With a combination of jam and sauce for meats, in a quantity of 30 pints, 2010 apricots are out of my life. Well, excepting for the part where they're perched atop the cabinet in the bathroom. I know, I know, cool, dark place is better. Give me a few days to enjoy no mountain of orange orbs in my kitchen, and I'll try to hatch a better plan. And, too, there are those final dozen jars of sauce which were processing when I realized I'd completely forgotten the garlic. Label: APRICOT SAUCE - Wouldn't it be awful if fruit trees bore several times a year? Thinking about putting up a harvest is quaint and so Little House. The actual act is a whole other story. I'd never have made it on the pioneer prairie. And I hope we can eat tomatoes fresh and in a measure equal to their ripening, at least until Tuesday! Prepare for my next whine. ºÜº
Mopping steamed brows.
| Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. Psalm 30:4 |
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