Things that lurk

Freesias

Kowhai

Cherry blossom

Although the weather is still a bit wintry, it feels as if spring is lurking. Blossoms and other spring flowers are out.

And we have (what I assume is) an escaped pet rabbit lurking in our street. He is so cute. Every now and then you see him hopping across the road or grazing in a neighbour's garden. Someone must've taken pity on him as I got a "rabbit found" notice complete with photo in my mail box. But he remains unclaimed. Or, at least, uncaptured. I think, in spite of any danger from cars or dogs, he's having the time of his life.

I'm afraid this photo is not of The Actual Rabbit.
But he looks a lot like this. Whenever I see him I never have my camera.

And I'm delighted to report that several of my slugs are now clinging to good fridges since a few blog lurkers made themselves know. It feels good to share my stuff. Thanks!

A little bit of goddess

A friend gave me a jar of her homemade marmalade recently and it was The-best-marmalade-I-have-ever-eaten. As you can't have too much of a good thing (and I have loads of grapefruit kindly given to me by a neighbour from his tree) I decided to make some of my own using her recipe. Turns out she uses Nigella Lawson's Pink Grapefruit Marmalade recipe from Nigella's book How to be a domestic goddess but replaces pink grapefruit with the regular yellow kind.

My marmalade turned out well and tastes good but its not in The-best-marmalade-I-have-ever-eaten category. Possibly, here's why... I made the toast from bread I'd hastily bought from a local deli. It hadn't been labeled in any way but it looked nice and I thought it was a sour dough. I made toast and coffee, ate and drank then back for seconds. As I cut the second slice of bread cloves of garlic fell out of the loaf onto the chopping board. I'd eaten my marmalade on garlic bread! It reminded me of this :

I eat my peas with honey
I've done it all my life
It makes the peas taste funny
But it keeps them on my knife.

There's a hole in my life ...

the size of a Nissa Figaro. Yes, after two years of deliberation, I've sold my car. As soon as it went up on the auction website a little anxious flutter started inside me. When the "For sale" sign was taped to its cute rear window I asked myself "What have I done?" But it was too late for regrets as we'd already bought its replacement - something zippy yet fuel efficient for the daily commute.
But I was a bit surprised, embarrassed even, by the depth of my attachment to my Figaro. I loved that car! So this has been a week of emotional weirdness.