Last year, I did no preserving, being too preoccupied and, frankly, bummed out by the need to bury Edmund’s ashes. Consequently, I ran out of proper chutney in March and Seville orange marmalade in April.

Zero Seville oranges made it to Perth County in 2022 (there weren’t any in 2021, either), but all the ingredients of proper chutney are simultaneously available here in abundance for about two weeks in September. This year, by George, I’m staying home until I have at least two batches boiled, bottled, and stashed in the basement.

Then — and only then — I can pack up and head for Ottawa and the 50th anniversary of my graduation from high school, coincidentally also the school’s centennial. I dimly remember dropping in on the 20th, where I saw all the cool kids who never acknowledged my existence when we were all in our teens but nevertheless seemed glad to see me. I expect another 25 years of aging will have mellowed us all into even nicer people.