Hokey-smokes! It took three days to make seven and a half PINTS of apple butter....but, ohhhhhhhhh....is it ever good! I started out with nearly a bushel of apples on Sunday. On Monday, I had them mostly cut up. On Tuesday morning, I managed to get them cut up enough to fit them all in two big slow cookers. I thought they would cook up nice and thick but by evening, they were actually swelling up and I was afraid they would spill over. So, I took my immersion blender and puréed them. Now I was absolutely sure the apple butter would be nice and thick by yesterday morning. Nope...still soupy. I needed some way to cook them down.
It isn’t very often I get up before Mr. FixIt. He’s definitely an earlier riser than me, so yesterday was one of those rare mornings when the house is still and quiet as I walked into the kitchen. I made my morning coffee and popped a couple of my made-ahead waffles into the toaster. Soon, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon and coffee gently caressed the air and I nibbled on breakfast as I watched the autumn sun glisten on the lawn out the kitchen window.
This is only about a third of what I worked up yesterday.
I had five bags of apples and another dozen assorted loose apples in a basket and it was time to get started. I got a bit of a late start yesterday but I plugged right along for several hours...washing, peeling, coring, quartering, and slicing apples galore! I’d probably say, all told, I had almost a bushel of apples and I almost got them finished before I threw in the towel. I’ll get back to them this morning. They are resting in an acidulated bath overnight to keep them from turning brown.
We went to pick up that chair at the antique store yesterday. When I first set eyes on it, I thought “It looks so much smaller in person.” Then I sat in it. It was so uncomfortable. I have long legs and the seat didn’t come anywhere near the back of my knees. The cushion was stiff and the padding on the arms was back too far. I was so disappointed as I was sure I could never sit in that chair for hours and write. I told the clerk that I was so sorry...the chair just wasn’t going to meet my needs. He was very good about it and said not to worry one bit.
I think every woman should carve out a little space that is just hers. Guys get the “man cave” or their “workshop”. Women get the kitchen. That’s all well and good. I mean, I love being in the kitchen and creating wonderful foods for the people I love. But it’s not like that...or the products that come from it...are for me alone.
In times of great stress, gallows humor comes into play as a way to cope. When Hubby #2 was in medical school, the “jokes” and “funny” one-liners came rapid fire on the Friday nights when his fellow students came to our house. They would sit on the stoop and drink a beer and talk trash. They had to. If not, they never would have survived the brutality they were faced with on a daily basis. I remember listening with frank shock, wondering how on earth these men and women were ever going to become compassionate physicians.
Lord, have Mercy...these are hard times if we look at all we are shown. I’ve lost friends this year...some to death...some to politics. My list dwindles as people peel away from me for whatever reason. I had a friend ask the other night if we should unfriend till next year. I told her I am comfortable with civil discourse but if it made her more comfortable, she needed to do what was best for her. We decided to stay connected and work our way through the next few months. That being said, there are some friends I have had to put in “time out” by snoozing them for thirty days. When those thirty days are up, I can revisit and evaluate. I don’t unfriend people just because we have a difference of opinion. I DO unfriend people if they attack, are verbally abusive, or go beyond my personal boundaries of what I am willing to put up with.
Someone on my Twitter feed yesterday asked “What makes you happy?” Without hesitation, I responded with “Being in my kitchen!” As long as I can remember, the kitchen has held a special place in my heart. It’s where you pour secret ingredients like “Love” and “Hope” and “Prayers” into your family’s food. It’s where you create beautiful, wholesome meals from nothing but a handful of this and that. It’s where you work out the problems of the world over a cup of coffee with your bestie. It’s where you write out cards and bills and maybe...a letter!
I’ve had a lot of “new normals” in my life. Two divorces found me as a single parent each time, trying to figure out how I was going to make it on my own. 9/11 left us all trying to wrap our heads around this feeling of no longer being safe. Losing Mr. Virgo left me broken and lost, yet determined to find out who I was in this world. Then the pandemic hit and the state of emergency was called on March 13th and everything changed.
I had every intention of canning my pie pumpkins yesterday. I got up and made my coffee and toast, then turned on YouTube on the TV to search for videos about canning pumpkin. I came across a channel called the Homesteading Family. They have lots of how-to videos. As I watched, I learned some things I didn’t know about pumpkins.
