It's a rainy day at the farmette. A bit steamy, too. We got more than a quarter inch of rain in the past 24 hours. It's like we're making up for the drought of June and July.
Right now, we're experiencing a tsunami of tomatoes. We planted 16 Roma plants and four regular plants. What the fruit lacks in size, it makes up for in volume. While I moan (a bit) about all the work of canning at this time of year, I'll love it when we open up that pint of preserved summer in the middle of the winter.
Yesterday was salsa day. My friend Jane and I did down peach chutney when she was here. I've done pickled beans and beets. We've had many, many tomato sauce days, and I'm lining up on a chili sauce day soon.
Canning is a satisfying pursuit. We certainly don't do it to save money or time. But it is kind of nice to go 'shopping' in the pantry when we want to make up a spaghetti dinner.
My late mother would be astonished. Especially given the number of times I complained bitterly about having to peel tons of peaches, pit endless quarts of cherries and cut mountains of cucumbers when I was a kid.
Thanks to her, I already had a pretty full bank of experience to re-start the whole country living process, which we did six years ago.
I think we underestimate the lessons learned from the older generations. As we grow into the people we once thought were 'old fogies', we get a better appreciation of all the skills and values they were trying to impart to us. But I digress.
After running around with household chores, finishing up the potato harvest and canning the salsa yesterday, today I think I'll settle in for a nice, relaxing Sunday with a visit to Mma Ramotswe and the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency. Until next week.