In The Bitter Sweet Steam

 I love making marmalade so I'm not sure why it takes me most of the day to make a batch of  ten jars. Maybe because -

I have to keep stopping to defrost my fingers in hot water...

or

my arm runs out of strength to push the gloopy innards of the Seville oranges, pith and pips and all, through the fine mesh sieve....

or

my wrist aches from slicing up the soft empty shells of the oranges into long shards

or

I stop to drape the wet washing over the rails and the radiators.....

or

 I stop to make Date Flapjacks and Almond Macaroon Biscuits with  my husband....

or

I stop to chop up a selection of salads and make a smoked mackerel pate and toast some flatbreads in a dry frying pan for our self assembly wraps for lunch....

or

I stop to sit with my husband at the computer to make a money transfer to pay our accountant's invoice for last year's tax return

or

because I can't decide if the marmalade has reached setting point and I hover over the steaming cauldron dipping in a teaspoon and dropping the boiling amber liquid onto a cold saucer - waiting for the tell tale crinkle surface.... which finally comes much later than usual.

Or maybe it's because all the while I'm immersed in the whole marmalade process I'm also distracted ....pulled back into other winters - remembering all those members of my family who passed away during my marmalade making days, often with snow on the ground....my mother's sister, her husband and their son.....my father.....last month my 101 year old aunty..... and yesterday my dear uncle.

Holding them in my heart, honouring them..... in the bitter sweet steam scenting my kitchen.