Jelly, jelly in my belly, belly

I just made some jelly. Some jelly that’s probably been sat in my fridge since January.

 

It is nowhere near as good as that.

I found my scissors and cut up the jelly bits, inhaling their delicious smell of pure orangeyness and chucked them in the salad/fruit bowl. What’s next?

Boiling water, okay, whatever amount was in the kettle went in and dissolved the little blocks to make a very warm orange soup.

Then I’m sure you add cold water or ice cubes to it. I have both, but went for some regular water, but not too much. I like a firm jelly.

Right now, it’s in the fridge, steaming up everything else in there, ready to be eaten by me in a few hours. I really want to eat it now. Knew I should have made a pre-jelly jelly, but then I’d need a pre-pre-jelly jelly.

I can smell it from here, even though the fridge door is closed. Let me have it!

I assume jelly is one of those things that’s impossible to balls up, but you never know, I once sliced my finger in half with a potato peeler. That’s a story for another day.

Oh, some whiskey and wine may have fallen in the mixture when I passed it by.