Looking in the fridge last night there was a punnet full of the remains of the strawberries picked on Sunday, a pot of double cream seven days pasts its use by date and two egg whites.

There would have been a temptation to leave it all for another day but I knew that if I did that it would probably all go to waste.

So I spent tem minutes whisking up the egg whites to soft peak stage, mixing in the only white sugar we had in the house before spreading it all on a mixing tray and putting it in a low oven for an hour and then leaving it to sit there overnight.

It was still a bit sticky when I came to cream it up this evening but that didn’t matter by the time I came to mixing it up with the strawberries and double cream.

It went down well with the children.

There has been a box of mangos on the side in the kitchen for the last week and a half. Somehow we have just not got round to eating them. I took a peek at them last night. They were still smelling good but the skins were starting to wrinkle and they needed eating up.

We also had the leftover chicken from last night to finish. Left to myself I would have turned them into a version of coronation chicken but I knew that would not go down well with the kids. So I decided to make of thick quick quick chutney with mangos and the adults could eat that and the kids could eat up the chicken with their tomato ketchup and roasted potatoes.

Having sliced the mangos I added half a finely chopped red onion, some garlic, red chilli, the juice from a lime, salt, pepper and olive oil and a good handful of chopped coriander. It needed some spice so I ground up some coriander seeds and mixed  those in as well.

It was almost too good to go with the chicken.

Having finished the meal I went down to the basement and found that I am starting to build up another good collection of mango boxes. There must be something I can do with them all?

It has been hot all day and there is no better listening on a day like this than to listen to Josh Rouse. So I have been trying to get through all his albums and here at about 9.00pm I am about half way through. I would have got through them all but was caught short over 1972 and had to listen to it twice and then ended up listening to Subtitulo three times.

He is almost a guilty pleasure.

When I saw him play at Leaf a few weeks ago I was almost put off by the cat who has the cream grin he would give off every so often. But then if I was him I would probably be giving off the very same grin.

With the the sun high in the sky I took youngest daughter to Clairmont Farm to pick strawberries. It was just about to get busy. I should have brought my camera to try and capture the field of bent bodies and the swallows in the air overhead.

It took us both 30 minutes to pick a punnet full. They were not too ripe and had a slight sourness to them still that would be well cut through by a dash of pepper.

Before we ate the strawberries we had another barbeque. This evening it was a chicken, spatchcocked and marinaded in garlic, paprika, lemon juice and olive oil.

It took longer to cook than I was expecting but when we got there was very good.

It had been warm all day and over lunch the sun had come out over the Cottage and we ate outside – although all-around there were clouds – we seemed exempt and the air over the Cottage stayed a clear blue. Late in the afternoon moving towards evening a pale low cloud came over but when you looked directly up there was still a hint of blue sky.

There were three boats fishing for mackerel off Owen Island on the incoming tide and a shallow golden mist had fallen over the Mizen. Having fallen it seemed to rise again. It was gold as the sun caught it adding other colours and depth so that behind Carberry Island it became impossible to tell what was cloud and what was the faint glimmer of the Mizen Head. After a few minutes it cleared so that the Mizen and its mountains rose above the line of mist floating over the water inbetween.

I could see them standing in the boats as they came in, and that suggested activity in turn suggested that in the twenty or so minutes whilst the light and cloud had played over the bay mackerel had been caught.

I started the writing of this sat in the garden watching out over Dunmanus Bay towards the Northside of the Mizen, Canty’s Cove and the peak of Knocknamadree. There were three pied wagtails making short runs across their corner of the lawn. Behind me the great fuschia hedge that runs the whole length of the eastern boundary of the garden was in full bloom with its dancing red flowers. If the wind was still there was a hum of bees from the hedge but even the slightest touch of a breeze would rustle the New Zealand flax in the corner drowning out other sounds and for most of the time the sound was of the paper rub and rustle of dry leaves scratching away in the backround.

The view is important because coming up from Durrus it is what we see. Durrus is situated at the bottom of the bay and is from where the road follows the coast until it passes Ahakista and then beyond to the head of the peninsula. As you drive the view opens up and the whole space of it expands, the bay widening until the Atlantic can be seen and the view from the garden takes shape.