Stewed

We're leaving this afternoon. I've been cleaning and packing and organizing and listing and cleaning and washing and folding and cleaning and washing for more than a week to get ready. We're all so excited. (Also thankful for sweet friends and neighbors that are willing to keep an eye on our house and animals while we're away. :)

I got up early this morning to complete all the little things that need to get done before we can leave our house for a week. One of those things is to can the tomatoes sitting in my fridge and garden. I've slaved over these babies all. summer. long. And if I don't get them put up before we leave, what's ripe now will be spoiled by the time we get back. I've worked too hard for that to happen. So regardless of other things that need to get done, I'm just going to have to slow down and spend some time in the kitchen this morning, canning and then cleaning up tomato seeds. :)

So as soon as it was light outside I grabbed Lilie and Violet (the two who like to be awake before the sun comes fully up) and headed out with a bucket to the garden to gather up all my little ripe gems. They're so beautiful and cold and it's lovely to walk through my garden and see the fruits of my labors.

In we came to wash, blanch, peel, cut. Into the jars. Red and lovely - with spatterings of yellow from the random yellow tomato plant that somehow showed up in my garden. Beautiful.

Into the canner, just waiting on the last jar.

Then.

A faint, brief cracking sound. {{Dread}}

I gently pick up the jar that I thought the sound came from, inspecting it for cracks. Nope. Looks lovely and sound.

Hmp. Whatever.

Pick up the other jar, just to give it a look-over for good measure.



Then the bottom of that jar breaks off and spills an entire quart of my hard earned tomatoes and precious pre-vacation time into a simmer pot of water.

@#$@!  #@#$#%!

{{{sigh}}}


{{{sigh, again}}}



Tomorrow I'm gonna be sitting on the beach. Watching the Pacific waves crash against the white sandy beaches of San Diego. Tomorrow I'll be at the beach. Tomorrow I'll be at the beach . . .