A trip to Seville and subsequent marmalade

We went on a trip to Seville;

 David was visiting a house that had been rebuilt in an old district. The city was full of trees, hung with bitter Seville oranges: like a fairytale to my eyes. 

Many had dropped to the ground, splitting and releasing their juice. In winter the grass is brilliant early-spring green: and the buildings graygold stone, altogether an effect of grayscale photos with photoshopped plantings. I started collecting oranges and eventually hauled about 10 kilos back to Madrid, where I made marmalade.                  

 First I had to find jars that would suit: these things are interesting little projects in a place that is still unfamiliar around the edges. Washing, endless slivering of all those rinds into translucent 
shreds, long cooking
with unseemly 
amounts of sugar, and
finally jarred. I made
labels and had a trove of 
jewel like jars of 
marmalade from 
oranges gleaned from
 the parks of Seville.