January day .

I am writing this in the car as we wind our way through country lanes on route to Bury St Edmunds . It is a pleasant occupation especially as its a cold , rainy landscape . Being warm and dry counts for something at this time of the year.

The idea is to go to the market . It is a particularly good one for local produce and what is not local is very good quality . Now we are staying put it feels right to continue with the annual rhythm of cooking good seasonal food and squirreling some things away . So its time to make some marmalade . This year I have a mind to make it with  blood oranges.  Yes , I know that some people / shops have taken to calling them something else . I'm assuming this is for the pedantic or the over sensitive . I am not susceptible to this sort of twaddle.

Oh , there's a scarecrow in a boiler suit . Several rooks practice vertical takeoffs  and ignore him . Sorry , got distracted .

So blood orange marmalade . It should be ruby hued with just enough peel in it for tang . Right for a thick slice of soda bread hacked off the side of a homemade loaf , well toasted and treated to an unjustifiable amount of butter . It's good , as well , to give out the odd jar to cheer somebody up in this bleak weather .

Four fat geese on a green field looking like washing blown from a line . Concentrate  Angela .

More geese marching round a pen this time . I think geese like rain . I know that deer do . The saxophonist is driving cautiously along this stretch of road, as we often see them hereabouts . They will surely be running today . Rain seems to compel them nearer the roads - don't know why .

Sugar. I must buy extra sugar too . Sometimes I use brown to subtly alter the taste or the colour . White feels right here though . It will keep clarity on the jewel like colour of the blood oranges . It will also bind it to this ride reminding me of how white the rain filled sky was as we dodged the deer on the way to the market.