Sunday, January 06, 2008
A winter tradition, now. Go out to either the front yard or back yard and pick oranges. The backyard tree, which is actually on the neighbor's side but the branches droop onto my side, has sweeter oranges. The frontyard tree has more, many more, but they are usually smaller.
Front orange tree.
I pick a washpan full and run water over them, picking the occasional stem off. The 1950s or 1960s Sunbeam mixer with the juicer attachment is hauled out and I clean a year's worth of dust off. Assembly required. Oranges sliced in half and I discard the ones that look a little off- bruised or bug-eaten.
Washing.
The juicer makes a "rrrrrrr" sound as it rotates. When I push an orange half down onto it, it becomes "grrrr-grrrr" sound. Every so often I stop and wipe off the pulp that accumulates on the screen.
Before I start juicing.
A washpan makes a bit more than a half-gallon. I drank a glass while typing this. Better than last year's, from what I can remember.
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Front orange tree.
I pick a washpan full and run water over them, picking the occasional stem off. The 1950s or 1960s Sunbeam mixer with the juicer attachment is hauled out and I clean a year's worth of dust off. Assembly required. Oranges sliced in half and I discard the ones that look a little off- bruised or bug-eaten.
Washing.
The juicer makes a "rrrrrrr" sound as it rotates. When I push an orange half down onto it, it becomes "grrrr-grrrr" sound. Every so often I stop and wipe off the pulp that accumulates on the screen.
Before I start juicing.
A washpan makes a bit more than a half-gallon. I drank a glass while typing this. Better than last year's, from what I can remember.
