I’ve never been to Seville, though I’ve wanted to ever since I first read about it, many years ago.
Maybe one day.
For now, the nearest I get is buying Seville oranges when they arrive in the shops in January. This year I thought I might not even manage that, because they’ve been hard to come by, but yesterday I was able to get a couple of kilos from Ocado. If I called myself any kind of housewife other than sketchy and recalcitrant, I’d already have made them into luscious, semi-bitter marmalade… but I don’t, so I haven’t.
Maybe one day.
What I did instead, because it was far more relaxingly mindful than juicing, chopping, and boiling two kilos of oranges, was to finish the Angela Harding jigsaw I posted a couple of days ago. If you’ve been worrying along with me about possible missing pieces, fret no more: all 1000 were there – though I found myself working faster and faster as I got close to the end, like the man painting the white lines in the middle of the road who’s scared of running out of paint, and when I put in the last piece it’s possible I may have given a little victory whoop.
I’d like to be able to bring you the look of exasperation that flashed across R’s face when he realised I’d been up on the dining table to photograph the finished puzzle, but at the time I was too busy looking winsome, while scuffing my toe like Topo Gigio, to think of grabbing a camera. Instead, my second photo is the one I took while standing on the table and leaning forwards, to get lens as near parallel as possible with the surface of the jigsaw.
R: L2, C4, D3.
