Maybe the last time.

It's getting towards evening and I'm getting tired of the sight of marmalade. Maybe this is the last year. The gin bottle has been put away and I've turned off Adele - all I'm good for is collapsing in-front of the TV. I still have 7 pounds of oranges left. Maybe I could stick them with cloves and make them into pomanders but the number of friends who want to hang an orange in their wardrobe is probably not that many.  The painter friend who has come to depend on my marmalade for his breakfast everyday has said in the past that my marmalade making is better than my painting. I hope he's joking otherwise he doesn't to get any more.