Another Love

This evening, I’m writing between cooking.

I’ve got comforting but possibly too warming mac and cheese in the oven, at Alex’s special request. It’s great when favourites are also that easy. He’s great on that count – would be perfectly happy to eat one of three or four favourites over and over, punctuated by the occasional plain pasta dinner. It’s been two years since he proposed to me, on a moonlit starry walk around the V&A Waterfront in Cape Town. I had forgotten, but facebook reminded me. Glad to have such a solid, dependable human in my life; the comfort food of my heart.

On the stove, I have a delicious pot of marmalade-to-be bubbling away. The Barnard/Breetzke recipe – I called my gran last night to ask about her move to her new flat, and to get her marmalade secret. The Kempston Cottage marmalade is the best in the world, and the mulberry jam, and the apricot jam. Delicious, smeared on toast after an early swim with a strong cup of tea to wash it down. I doubt my efforts will be as good, but I can start practicing. She’s been in limbo in Cape Town for most of the pandemic; fetched to be in Cape Town by my aunt and uncle, brought down to live with them and then my great aunt, until the right time to move into her new flat. I’m so looking forward to seeing her installed, making excellent light (her famous fruitcakes) or jam, or Kenton biscuits.

As I write this, I’m sitting in a sunbeam on the couch – it’s hot, but the light is a glorious golden yellow. Pretty much the colour of my lemon-orange marmalade mix. I am turning into human marmalade 🙂 There’s cloud rolling in, pressing down on the Quays. We’re waiting for the release from the rain, waiting in that weird heavy pressure that sits on the world when you’re waiting for a thunderstorm. It’s hot. The air is thick. It’s making me cranky. Looking forward to the rain. But I must remember to unplug my work computer before bed just in case.

Lightning blog 51.

Writing song:

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