Saturday, September 9, 2017

It'll Just Have To Do


After approximately two and a half hours in the kitchen this morning saucing and canning the latest bag of feral apples A. picked for me, I now have 25 quarts of applesauce successfully canned.

I think I'm done with applesauce. I mean, I could make more, but I don't really want to.

Next I'll have to can the sauerkraut that's still sauering in the linen closet downstairs in the fancy handmade ceramic fermenting crock the MiL gave me for our anniversary:


I did not make those pickles in the background in the crock. They're refrigerator dills, not fermented pickles.


See the clever little split ceramic plate to hold down the cabbage and the well around the outside to make a water seal to keep out air? So fancy. And well-designed.

Yes, I am aware that canning sauerkraut destroys its probiotic superpowers. I just don't like the taste of uncooked sauerkraut. I'd rather get my probiotics from yogurt. Much tastier.

Then there are the many pounds of Seckel pears we brought back with us from our last trip to Blackrock that are still ripening. Those will probably be canned as pear sauce.

And maybe I'll actually get a chance to can some tomatoes, because our forecast this week is calling for several days at or above 70 degrees with lots of sun. It should get pretty toasty under A.'s woodchuck greenhouse to ripen the many, many green tomatoes that are sitting out there.

So, okay, I'm not really DONEdone with the food preservation for the season, but at least I'm done with the applesauce. That's something.

Thursday, September 7, 2017

Today's Theme Courtesy of The Eagles


With slightly altered lyrics . . .


Well, they're allllready gone . . .


And they're feeeeeling . . .


Strong.


I will siiiiing this victory song . . .


'Cause they're alllllready gone.

And a bonus of the now-separated Three Amigos:


Your day will come, Jack. 

Monday, September 4, 2017

The Thankless Child


From my beloved first-born's mouth today:

"Daddy does all the fun stuff with us. Like camping. All you do is sit in your chair and make dinner."

"Really." I said. "That's all I do?"

"Well, and maybe stuff like laundry. But not too much."

This, after a morning in which I cleaned the bathroom, swept and mopped the floors, cleaned out the kitchen garbage can, did two loads of laundry, harvested garden produce, and fed everyone. Plus gestated the next thankless child.

Sharper than a serpent's tooth, indeed.