Lady Marmalade

Dreadful, toothache-filled night.  Not great timing, especially since my dentist doesn't work on Wednesday and I'm leaving for my lovely weekend on Friday...

Anyway, a day of work.  Then gardening when blocked on work.  Then work when driven out of my garden by the irritation of a neighbour using an astonishingly smelly chain saw to cut down all the lovely trees.  Where is the nightingale going to sit now to serenade us all night?

And he felled one of the trees on top of the wooden thing I built around the olive tree.  I was not in a confrontational mood so didn't go out, but will have to check tomorrow for damage.

In other news, I froze the Seville oranges I bought on Saturday, finally accepting the inevitable fact that marmalade was never likely to be squeezed in this week.  The woman I bought them from is my preferred local honey supplier (which we feed CarbBoy with to keep his allergies under some kind of control) who is not often at the Saturday market.  From the second I opened my mouth, she had me pegged as a likely marmalade-maker and pulled out some secret oranges that her son brings her (he's working down that way I think).  Well, I had to buy some really.  Lots of chat about marmalade: how I make it, where it's from, etc.  I told her and her husband the apocryphal tale about the wife in Dundee getting a load of oranges from a storm-stranded boat. Not sure I really knew all the right vocab to give the tale it's full strength, but we muddled through.

Tonight I made a spreadsheeet for fabric measurements for the crazy diy thing.  I think I may just about be out of my depth...