this weekend was my last and final fling with the giant boxes of bright red tomatoes.
around 3 o clock on friday afternoon, we were home, armed with around 75 pounds of bright red spotless tomatoes.
i started roasting, canning, freezing, and repeating.
by 7 o clock, the idea of eating tomato sauce from a bpa containing can that i could buy from the grocery store in the middle of december was looking pretty enticing and i was a little more than over these tomatoes.
i was cheering to the fact that i would not be elbow deep in tomato juice again for at least another 10 months.
i started to get in that deep dark place. why were we dealing with these blasted tomatoes when we should be out enjoying a beautiful brisk friday night?
i began lamenting in my head how its friggin september. and you know what you do in friggin september? you make apple butter. applesauce. start building fires. making chili. repeat. and i was dealing with tomatoes.
so, i took a break. and made a pizza.
while the tomatoes were simmering on the stove and in the oven, we went outside and sat with the pizza.
i am pretty sure it was only 68 degrees out or something amazing like that.
it made me think about eliot coleman's mantra in this land is in your hands, during times of car trouble, compost issues, weather problems, etc.
as told by his daughter:
"how many son of gun's are this lucky."
(there are actually i think some choice words in that statement)
here i was, eating a delicious pizza. on a blanket. in 70 degree weather. and i am lucky enough to have 75 pounds of tomatoes in the kitchen to can, freeze, roast, and dry for the winter.
so while i chugged on with an often hungry and eventually tired and fussy baby, 2 hungry dogs, 2 cats that want to go outside and come back in two seconds later- i could only think of the future when all of our kids will be grown and away, these animals will be long since gone, and it's just Cody and I in the kitchen. while i know that we will be old and happy and in love, i can only imagine that i will wish that i could see and feel this very moment for just a few minutes longer before it vanishes back into the memories of the past. the moment of your tiny first born desperately trying to crawl on the kitchen floor just to reach the very end of a dog tail. the two sweet cats that have various personalized theme songs and lounge about in front of any door you are trying to walk through. the two dogs that have seen it all so far: love, marriage, tears, happiness, heartbreak, apartments, houses, and many mountain trails.
so with a giant to do list that has to be completed pronto, knitting that needs to be finished before the weekend, and a laundry pile that might actually over take me at some point, i am currently feeling like a lucky son of a gun.
linking with amanda.