Don't Judge a Book, Fruit or People By Their Covers . . . . You Might Miss Out!

I'm sure that I seem to obsessed with food lately, and perhaps I am, but I have been blessed with the ability and opportunity to plan and prepare for my family in many ways these days. I had been purchasing different food stuffs that could be stored, long term, for hard times, even when the economy seemed to be tanking. I decided that it was time to focus on getting our finances in order, and though that feeling has not diminished, I have also felt like I needed to find a balance with that and the food preparation. So, I continue to fill all the empty jars that have been stored, empty, in the attic for many years.

Last time I had these urges, I was grateful for my upbringing to listen to that small voice whispering in my ear and heart. We ended up using the storage to stretch our income when my husband was transferred by his employer!

Right now, he is working week to week not sure what the next one will bring. But that is not what I wanted to share, after all that dialogue! (I just nicked my left hand in two places and need to let the "New Skin" dry with a good coat to protect them while finishing up the chicken I am canning.)

The Point of All This Verbosity:

The other night I was sorting the Mt. Rainier cherries from the Bountiful Baskets . I was removing the ones that weren't perfect and bottling the ones that had no blemishes on them. I had eaten "only" a couple of bags of cherries by that time, so of course I was munching away at the same time. I found that some of the ones that weren't so pretty were the sweetest. They would often burst with sweet, juicy flavor in my mouth.

Next, I pulled out the plums that had lots of funny leathery places on their skins. When I peeled those very unpretty parts from the fruit, there was sweet, juicy fruit in the loveliest deepshade of "plum" . . . go figure. It really was a pretty color, though.

I got to wondering what caused some of these blemishes on fruit. the cherries had been bumped, pushed, and squeezed, from what I could tell. A few had been left too long, without the cold storage condition that would have slowed down the deterioration. Using my limited experience in growing produce, I would guess that the plums might have been damaged with wind causing them to rub on the tree bark or branches or maybe some of the skin cells died in very hot conditions. In spite of these "hard " experiences, they have remained valuable. They could still "contribute" to others. They could still nourish and sweeten the life of the recipient.

How often do we look around us and think, "Eww!" I know I sure have. I remember how hard my first room mate & I laughed at the first impressions ofeach other. I thought she was a terrific snob and so many guys were friends with me, casual,that she was sure that I wasn't a "nice" girl. As we got to know each other that summer, working at a resort in Wyoming, we discovered a great friend in each other! We still stay in touch occasionally and catch up on each other's families and lives. What if we had not opened our minds? How much our lives would have been missing . . .

The same with when I met my good husband. I was not impressed, in fact, he looked so pleased when he found out that my brother was a policeman. that it scared me. What if I had followed my first impulse and avoided him at the firesides? Talk about a loss, he wouldn't be who he is now and neither would I. As I was processing the fruit, I had lots of time to ponder many memories. I have a new appreciation for the opportunities I have enjoyed in my life to meet many and varied people. To learn many lessons from working, serving, and playing beside them, in many circumstances. I am thankful for the richness of my life, for the richness of my children's lives by having these same kind of experiences.

If you don't know me personally, I can be a little rough around the edges. I get fed up and can be pretty "honest" in my opinions. I try to not be too blunt or rude, but sometimes I guess it does come out like that. To those who have been patient and accepting, I thank you. You have been a blessing in my life. I appreciate you. To those who weren't, oh well, life will go on and gee, you've missed out . . . did I mention that I am very humble? Sorry, I am also very naughty sometimes . . . .

Have a good evening and thanks for letting me ramble on while the chicken is pressuring for 90 minutes. My foot is swollen from being on it too much today, I am exhausted from only sleeping for about three hours last night and Jon is about to fall asleep sitting in front of the news. It is time to call it quits, right after I turn off the burner!!

"AFTER THOUGHTS" or perhaps I should say, "AFTERMATH":

I had two chicken thighs that just would not fit into the pressure canner. So I thought, I'll just BBQ them with the bones and scraps that I trimmed off of the breasts . . . . then the scramble started to get the canner up to the correct pressure, clean the kitchen, answer one phone call after another, and just too many other things. All of a sudden I remembered and ran out to this . . . .

Once again, our old family sayings are confirmed:

• If it aint smoking, it aint done . . . or
• Where there's smoke, there's home cooking . . . or
• Where there is smoke, there is mom !