Who does this anymore–canning? I mean, really. Who?
I’m drawn to my garden like a kid to mud. It’s constant work, sometimes back-bending. Still, it’s pleasurable. I pamper the little seedlings through early spring. From humble, innocent beginnings, we bond, my plants and I–plants that have to be protected from frost, armies of caterpillars, slugs, and beetles throughout their growing months. I nurture my little buddies until I’m satisfied the only way they can go is up.
If you just got your nails done, you probably won’t be canning vegetables. You ought to see my fingers after pickling 22 pints of sweet beets. If you don’t get up at by six in the morning, you’re not going to spend much time in a garden. I think it’s in my DNA. And that’s why I can. Because I can!
What Other People Do 