My humans don't do marmalade for wimps. The latest batch is concocted of sour oranges and bergamots - which has produced something they describe as 'scary'.
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| Bergamots look like big orange(ish) lemons, and smell like Earl Grey tea |
F said 'let it mature for a while'. That seems to be her answer to any pickle or preserve with a challenging acid content. Apparently it mellows.
That was yesterday. Today I notice they are slathering it onto their toast. Maturity clearly didn't take long.
I don't think they need this marmalade; they just seem to be short of 'constructive' things to do. - or the materials to do it with. The basket of knitted things is now bigger than the box the balls of wool came out of. We have run out of scavenged materials for building permanent cat motels (well more permanent than cardboard boxes). The garden has been gardened. The beach has been litter picked. The lockdown has tightened....
Sour oranges are free.
The balcony railings could be rust treated and painted, but at the moment Hughie (that's F Dad's name for the weather god, possibly also spelt Huwie) is loading the wind with salt and chucking it at us daily. Not ideal painting weather.
It would be good weather for testing those kites, but shops selling stuff like 'kite spars' (whether fancy carbon fibre or plain old wooden dowels) are all closed at least until the end of the month. F is eyeing the fabric appointed for the mega large one without even having tested the prototype...
Does this look like a shower curtain to you?
Mr B has been commissioned to make a net-making shuttle....
I have no idea🙄
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