I just got back from Epic Lady Vacation in Puerto Rico. We stayed on the beach in San Juan for the first few days, because, as Naomi said, “we’re not here to prove how bohemian we are.” Instead, I said, we went to prove that we have nice shoulders, that we love swimming in the ocean, and that we tan up nicely. In July, lying on the beach at Fort Tilden or Jacob Riis, I pointed out how good we are at enjoying the sun and ocean and declared that we should plan to do this when it’s cold in New York. So we planned for Puerto Rico in January, and then all of a sudden exams were over and we were taking off our flip flops and beach dresses and plunging into the Atlantic.
The thing about vacation — at least for me — is that time spent not doing certain things reminds me that I love them. And vacation is not really a time for making. I knit a little bit of sock when we were hanging out in our little traveller’s apartment one night, and I made us a salad when we realized that beer wasn’t really dinner, but vacation is not time for cooking or crafting. So it was nice to come home and trudge through the snow to the coop to buy oranges and meyer lemons and grapefruit for Three Citrus Marmalade . I zested, cut away the pith, supreme the segments, and boiled it all up with sugar. It took longer than I expected for the pot to hit 220 degrees, and even so I’m not sure that it really set, but I have 6 beautiful translucent jars of sweet and tart citrus deliciousness.