My mum posted an old video on Facebook a few night ago of me
and my sisters. My youngest sister still a baby, and the other shoving a bottle
in the camera sporting a new haircut I had given her because apparently she
couldn’t see through the curls, and me sitting grumpy faced doing god knows
what on the bed. I didn’t even know these videos existed anymore. But it
reminded me of when I use to sit outside, on the uneven concrete by the sliding
door of the ‘kids room’ (essentially a room we were allowed to mess up) and
make grapefruit juice from the old tree that Henry Hartnell planted when /or
before I was a baby. Now, making grapefruit juice consisted of some very difficult
steps, so I’ll walk you through.
Step 1: To Climb the tree.
This was probably the most fun step. The tree was kind of old, and the branches had plenty of bounce in them so when we got to the highest points with our plastic bag we started to worry a bit. (This tree had been through a lot. We use to hammer nails into it to make treehouses, and drag mums pillows and blankets outside to make beds in the tree. ) But yeah, we basically got a shitload of grapefruit.
Step 2: Cutting them up
Mum and Dad didn’t seem to care/ or notice that we we’re using all their good knives to cut grapefruit in half using concrete as a chopping board.
Step 3: Squeezing the juice out:
This step was probably the messiest, and stickiest. We didn't get much juice from the amount of grapefruit we picked, but we always managed to get at least a jug. When we were left with nothing but scraps the pigs would have a field day, followed by a long and smelly dose of diarrhea, which Dad would kill us for. (I think one year the pig we killed actually had a slight grapefruit taste)
Step 5: SUGAR
Yep, since we were kids, we liked things sweet so it was only natural that we add a little sugar…. But a little was never enough so we used ½ to a whole cup of sugar each time. Bad.... I know. When our panel of grapefruit juice testers we satisfied with the taste we would pour a glass and take it out to Dad who was usually building something in the shed, or sitting down having a beer, and his eyes would squint and his lip would curl as he pretended he liked it, and we ran off to get him more.
Step 1: To Climb the tree.
This was probably the most fun step. The tree was kind of old, and the branches had plenty of bounce in them so when we got to the highest points with our plastic bag we started to worry a bit. (This tree had been through a lot. We use to hammer nails into it to make treehouses, and drag mums pillows and blankets outside to make beds in the tree. ) But yeah, we basically got a shitload of grapefruit.
Step 2: Cutting them up
Mum and Dad didn’t seem to care/ or notice that we we’re using all their good knives to cut grapefruit in half using concrete as a chopping board.
Step 3: Squeezing the juice out:
This step was probably the messiest, and stickiest. We didn't get much juice from the amount of grapefruit we picked, but we always managed to get at least a jug. When we were left with nothing but scraps the pigs would have a field day, followed by a long and smelly dose of diarrhea, which Dad would kill us for. (I think one year the pig we killed actually had a slight grapefruit taste)
Step 5: SUGAR
Yep, since we were kids, we liked things sweet so it was only natural that we add a little sugar…. But a little was never enough so we used ½ to a whole cup of sugar each time. Bad.... I know. When our panel of grapefruit juice testers we satisfied with the taste we would pour a glass and take it out to Dad who was usually building something in the shed, or sitting down having a beer, and his eyes would squint and his lip would curl as he pretended he liked it, and we ran off to get him more.
