Smug and sticky .

Today is the coldest day of the year so far . ( Around here at least .)

Last weekend I finally came upon a stall piled high with blood oranges and fat lemons too .
What better to do then than stay in the warm and make marmalade . I switched on the radio , put an apron on and set too . I'd forgotten how labour intensive it is .Especially paring off the peel and leaving the pith , them slicing the peel into thin , thin , tiny batons .

The whole house is now scented with oranges and my hands sting from the citrusy juices . I am sitting , in solitary splendour , at the table with hot coffee and a cigarette writing this as the marmalade boils .

Cooking is continuity isn't it . Good ingredients , enough skill and there you have it . Simple but perfect in a homemade sort of way . A form of alchemy .

Two people can walk into a kitchen .
 One can have bread and water . The other a pot of tea and some hot buttered toast .
We can always choose which person we want to be .

I'm glad I made marmalade today .