While waiting for a Christmas concert to start in freezing Sausalito, I loitered in the SBC church basement of when a singer came in waving a fistful of pink flowers.
This late in the year, it’s rare to see pink, and I had her tell me precisely how to find her parking spot on Harrison street, up seven flights of stairs above the church.
At home, CC and I polished off a few of the fruit I’d found lying in the gutter …THEN we looked it up on the web.
In our research, CC and I turned up the amazing Jackie French, an Australian writer of 80 books, one of which I own (“Diary of a Wombat”, illustrated by Bruce___).
Turns out Ms. French keeps a gorgeous house, and has a garden that among many other things features precisely the unusual, droopy fruit with gorgeous pink-purple flower that Julie stole from a hedge last night.
In case the flower and fruit prove to be too excitingly delicious, the antidote is conveniently located in the vine’s three-lobed leaves…the web tells us that passiflorine is a glycoside proven for centuries to calm a body down…hence all the passionflower (leaf) tea on the healthfood store shelves..