Choking   Fruit of childhood and poverty: green and prickly, tasting of grass. Across the back fence the green sickness snaked, fecund and Catholic, providing bulk for feckless kids, plentiful greens and, graced with a brush of apple, a faux dessert. Mothers, after a day of coppers boiling and heavy wringers, cooling by the back fence, gathering green and tasteless fodder while hubby washed down his wages at the local. The vine easy to grow as children: in whatever hardy soil you planted the seed, the first shoots soon appeared, growing and clinging, attracting bees and the rapid proliferation of…