No chutney this year; I still have most of last year’s batch. I don’t have a church bazaar to support (yet), and these days my various relatives don’t go through it at speed. Several jars of marmalade and chutney are packed in a wine box stashed in Brother Andrew’s basement.

The hardwood stairs guy starts work tomorrow, which means the last of the awful broadloom will be gone by Wednesday. It looks worse every day, so I can hardly wait.