Hi. It's me. Pamela, remember? I write here sometimes, except for when I don't, which has totally been the case lately.
Here's what I've been doing: CANNING. Like a crazy person. What have I been canning? I'll tell you.
Cherries. 25 quarts of pie filling, 10 pints of jam, and tons of boozy cherry molasses and rum-soaked cherries.
Blueberries. 11 pints of jam, 3 quarts of vinegar.
Rhubarb. 16.5 quarts of pie filling, 20 pints sauce (rhubarb + sugar = sauce)
Zucchini. 26 pints relish, 8 quarts sweet pickles.
Dill Pickles. 20 quarts, 7 pints.
Peaches. 21 quarts canned in light syrup, 7 pints chutney, 7 pints jam, 14 quarts pie filling, 7 pints peach syrup.
Tomatoes. 52 + quarts canned, 33 quarts sauce.
Onions. 6 quarts pickled.
Dilly Beans. 10 quarts.
Beets. 10 pints pickled.
Salsa. 58 pints.
Roasted Red Peppers. 10.5 pints pickled, 6.5 pints spread.
Beer Mustard. 4 pints.
Cranberry Mustard. 4 pints.
Grapes. 17 pints jam, 9 quarts + 1 pint pie filling, 10 quarts juice.
Apple Butter. 10 pints.
Applesauce. 37 quarts.
Hot peppers. 10 quarts, 17 pints.
Honeyed Yellow Tomato Butter. 6 pints.
So yeah. Why have I not been blogging? Because I am the little ant who wants to sit around eating chips and salsa and toast with grape jam and things with tomatoes in them until I have gained ninetyeleven bazillion pounds. All winter long.
Remind me to tell you the story about The Mister's Totally Awesome Salsa Experience.
The short people are sometimes quite helpful with all the canning. Just yesterday, Wee Man and HB very nearly cut their fingers off whilst cutting up apples for the applesauce. HB's take? Mama, I think chores are making my finger feel better. And also, Actually, Mama, I think grinding applesauce is very relaxing.
I love it when they earn their keep.
We started schooling, too, which is a whole 'nother post for a whole 'nother day. But so far, nobody has died, so I'm calling it a win.
What else... let me think... Elliott had another staph infection, which is really puzzling because I launder his diapers regularly in the prescribed manner, and he ought not to be growing staph THERE. He's fine, by the way, and we didn't have to do any of this like the last time he had a staph infection.
And apparently Glee started up again last night. But I missed it because I assumed it was for people who have put their children to bed, so when I turned the telly on at nine, what I got was a show about a crazy family who produced a very nearly grown adult who did not know a baby needs a car seat. It was wrong on SO. MANY. LEVELS.
Also wrong? The "lady" who pulled up next to me at the gas station with her 4 year-old-looking child in the back seat with no booster, and the shoulder strap slicing into his tender throat. Not actually slicing, just POISED TO SLICE. Stupid woman.
So there you go. A little Dayton Time update. I'm going to go eat ice cream out of the box and watch some (now) old Glee. How's about you tell me what's going on with you?