I have no business writing this post, but here I am, rebelling all the same. I am about to embark on a five day camping trip.
Yes.
Be envious.
No.
I am not ready. Hence the irresponsible blogging.
Next year, if I mention buying tons of fruit to can anywhere near or around Labor Day Weekend, you have permission to smack me upside the head.
A good, firm, smack.
We bought 60 pounds of peaches and 30 pounds of pears on Saturday. The pears were ready, but the peaches were not ripe. I checked them yesterday and they were ripe. Like about to summon fruit flies, ripe. I finished school around 1pm and decided to tackle the peaches. Even though I should have been getting ready for camping. Perhaps I am in denial about having to go camping and think that maybe, just maybe, if I don’t get those brownies baked, I will simply have to send my regrets and stay behind.
So. Yesterday, I start to can the peaches and hear a loud pop. As luck would have it, my entire cook top is broken and there is smoke coming out of it.
Even my kitchen thinks I am canning too much.
I call my beloved. I feel confident that he will make it all better. He is afterall, an electrician. Plus he’s cute. He feels the stove is, and I quote, “A gone-er” and when he comes home he will set up the camping stove on the deck so I can finish my canning.
He arrived around 9:15 and I finished up one batch of peaches while he got the trailer all ready. We fell into bed at 11:30 and while he was setting his alarm for 3:30 IN THE AM, I casually said,
“I think our lives need to calm down.”
And he said, “Yup.”
But who has time to come up with a new life plan when there are ripe peaches summoning fruit flies on one’s counter? So, I woke up at 6 to finish the canning and basically, I never want to see a peach as long as life endures.
I am ready to list all my canning jars, pressure canner, water bath canner, and all my garden produce on Craigslist. This would basically shun the Maliblahblah name, but can somebody tell me WHY I am canning the life out of everything?
I want to go to Paris.
I don’t want to can food anymore. I want to go to Paris and sip coffee. That’s all. Is that too much to ask?
Maybe with all the money I save on canned peaches this year, I could pay for a trip to Paris with my husband. Paris looks exactly like they place he would like to visit. I’m sure he would fit in well.
Alright. I have nothing to say. But you already gathered that. I’m just tired and cranky and now I need to buy a new cook top.
What are your plans for the weekend?
Please share. Or not.
The choice is yours.
You are not going to believe this, but my hubby and I are leaving for Paris on Tuesday. Sorry. Holla!!!!! 🙂
I bet your peaches and pears are going to be delicious, and than you can pat yourself on the back for doing it! 🙂
Oh, and your husband would be in Paris, with his carhartts, right? lol 😉
Surely the Maliblahblahs will rise up and call you blessed after this crazy season of canning.
My husband announced he has to work all weekend, so I don’t know what I will be doing. But it won’t be canning or camping. Probably consuming copious amounts of HGTV and wrangling kids.
My plans for the weekend?
Um…thinking about canning peaches…’cause they are ripe, and I got out of canning them last year, and my family really likes them…but I HATE canning peaches!!
I’m with you on the first plane to Paris!!
This weekend is the big sale on snow clothes, so other than shopping for winter…there isn’t much going on here.i agree with slowing down. I had to learn the hard way to take a break. Take one while you still can and enjoy life. Life is to precious otherwise.
I envy you your peaches; but not the defunct cook top, nor the camping trip. Um, to paraphrase a quote; “Faint not in well-doing, for by and by thou shalt be blessed and reap.” heh heh heh Hopefully you won’t reap any fruit.
I know that the peaches will be fabulous in the bleak midwinter! And you are young! Surely you don’t need more than 3 hours sleep a night!! Seriously. I’m impressed.
Well I am thinking about finishing a Halloween mini album…but maybe will just finish my book and watch all the episodes of The Mentalist I’ve got recorded. I wont do all three this weekend because, well as a person who has no job and no kids at home, you have stretch out your projects so you dont run out of stuff to do lol.
i think you should ban debra from your blog! =o)
I just learned today that this is Labor Day Weekend. What business does Labor Day have coming in the middle of summer, that what I’d like to know? Have you read David Lebovitz’s The Sweet Life in Paris?
Oh dear! I’m not envious about the camping, I think I would just about tolerate “glamping” (glamourous camping). And as for the cooktop….? I feel your pain. This weekend’s a quiet one, first day of Spring tomorrow and the weather is getting nicer, so I can imagine some time in the garden and encouraging the kids outside for some fresh air. Happy camping!
Wait, the peaches have to ripen before canning? Aren’t they ready to can straight from the store? Doesn’t canning “cook” the peaches so that they ripen right in the jars? No? Maybe fruit ripens at different times to make it easier to schedule the canning…
This explains a friend’s experience years ago: She spent all day canning peaches. The next day her husband opened a jar and put some on his cereal. He said they were rather sour. I said to her, didn’t you taste the peaches as you were canning them? No, I was too busy canning, she said.
That’s one of the first things I do with food – taste it! I want to be certain the end result will be worth my effort.
You get a new cook top!!
Happy Camping Days!
Goodness, who is going to feed your zoo while you’re gone? 😉
I expect David will spend his precious camping time running back and forth daily to feed said livestock….hence less
camping time for him……….
Teller …..do you hear that………..YOU should go home to feed said animals and while you are
there have a nap, paint your toenails, read all that stuff you don’t get to do while home with everyone else.
Teller…….are you listening????
I’ve done the whole rural-living-canning-everything-in-sight life. Didn’t care for it much. What am I doing this weekend? Cleaning carpets. So much more fun than going camping, dontcha think?
You deserve a trip to Paris but let me suggest going to Italy instead- people are friendly in Italy 🙂
For my weekend I will be traveling to Tallahassee to watch my beloved Seminoles whip some boo-tay and then scalloping on the coast. Good times!
Everything will work out in the end. You have a good man for a husband, wonderful children and a good outlook on life. It may not be perfect all the time, but life is a success if the good times outweigh the bad. Have fun camping this weekend 🙂
My house is a shambles. Major cleaning must be done STAT. I was feeling bad about that until I read that you have to go camping. Now I feel cheerful about house work. Thanks Taylor!
Whoa! Who are these people reading your blog who live on the other side of the earth and don’t know what labor day is? Impressive! It’s Brian’s bday this weekend so I will probably kill myself to spoil him. Because he’s worth it. But I’d rather sleep and be lazy. 😉 Too bad having two little kids and an infant doesn’t let me! Have fun roughing it!
Here are the things I would like to be doing:
Scrapbooking.
Being alone.
Eating S’mores.
Celebrating my 35th birthday.
Not thinking of my little girl going to Kindergarten.
here are the things I WILL be doing:
Eating Sm’ores.
Celebraint my 35th birthday.
Totally thinking of my little girls going ot Kindergarten
Not scrapbooking.
Being surrounded by my needy children whom i birthed and longed for long ago!
Oh Taylor. I long for you to be able to go to Paris, too. I seriously hope that works out for you one day. Paris, France would be my first choice, but there are 23 Parises in the U.S. if you can’t make it out of the country. Paris, Texas is close to where I live, and I will personally buy your coffee if you ever get there. 😉
I hope you get a sweet new stovetop. May the Lord bless you for all you do for your family!!
Holla Christina, looks like a COW! and LJW – sometimes ya gots to make yore own ‘Paris.’