or if you're a Facebook friend, you can skip this post, since you've seen the photos I began posting yesterday afternoon.
If you don't, here's the final shot:
What began as 20 pounds of navel oranges is now this year's supply of marmalade, cooling in jars on the counter. I'll store them in the pantry tomorrow. (I went into a little more detail last year.)
Marmalade is a lot of trouble to make, and there are nearly as many calories in a tablespoonful (50) as there are in a whole orange (62). But nothing says summer and sun and warm and bright, to me anyway, like orange marmalade.
I don't remember ever eating it when I was growing up. I don't buy the commercially made stuff unless I'm really jonesing for it and am all out of my own home-canned sunshine in a jar. I'm not sure why I started making it from scratch, but I can tell you this: There's something about the entire process that just feeds my soul.
And my body, on whole-wheat toast with a pat of butter, thankyouverymuch.
I don't eat it every day, and sometimes a couple weeks will go by without even a taste. But when you want orange marmalade, well, nothing else will do.
Yesterday was another elliptical day, with no yoga or weights. Today is yoga and, hopefully, an afternoon walk, if the temperature rises as it's predicted to. Then we have another winter storm warning for tonight and tomorrow. OH WELL. It is winter, after all.
Two days of eating within my calorie limits. Two days of working out. One thing leads to another …