The last couple of weeks have been grueling. The stretch between February Break and April Break is a long one, you see. It's not really that long in "normal time." But it is very long in "Kid Time." There's a great deal to get done and little in the way of diversions. By the time Spring Break arrives, it's a tough to determine who is more ready for it, the kids or the teachers.
I've gotten in the habit of waking up around 4:30 in the morning so I can get in a little extra worry-time before heading off for my commute. I'd rather hoped that this annoying quirk would end once school was over for a week, but I was being optimistic. In spite of not having a single middle school student waiting to ruin my life, I was still up before the sun this morning. It took me several minutes to realize I had nothing to worry about and that all the little dears were at home worrying other people today.
However, there was no going back to sleep once the brain was in gear so I got up. It wasn't such a big deal, really. I did have a few things to do today and the extra hours wouldn't hurt. I puttered about the manse, had that extra cup of coffee, and was right on time for my morning appointment with The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach. I thought about knitting. I also thought about spinning.
Then I decided to make barbecue sauce.
Actually, this wasn't such an odd impulse. I was planning to get to it at some point this weekend. I've been experimenting with my recipe and pretty much have it right where I want it. I thought it would be nice to have some sauce on hand for the vacation week should the urge to grill come over me. I even thought it might be a good idea to make a "little" extra...
I overshot the mark on that one. No one should have this much barbecue sauce. No one. Unless a cow walks in the door right now demanding to be basted and slow roasted, I cannot envision needing this much sauce.
So I decided to can some of it. I'm pretty sure I've canned before. I must have. I have canning supplies and a working knowledge of the process. I know I haven't done it since I have lived here in the manse, but I have canned. I'm certain of this.
What I may have canned, I don't recall. But that is not important. I have canned. I distinctly remember thinking, "I really shouldn't use my good canning pot as a dye pot because I won't be able to can anymore." There. I told you I'd canned. I just needed to find another pot and I'd be all set.
Other than a rather alarming fountain coming from the over-filled water bath, I was able to do a small batch process without too much difficulty. I even found that weird little magnetic thing to pull the jar lids out of the boiling water, although I don't know how I located it. I don't even remember buying it. Frankly, I'm shocked that it went as well as it did. Usually, I manage to forget what I know about stuff just in time to realize that I shouldn't have started in the first place. At that point, it is usually too late.
But there is sauce so apparently, I can can.
That seemed like a good place to stop for the day. Once you've successfully managed to do something you don't remember doing but know you did and which could go horribly wrong if you remember the doing incorrectly, it is generally in your best interest to not tempt fate any further. I spent the rest of the day lazing in front of the TV and periodically going into the kitchen to push on the tops of the jars to make sure they were really sealed. (they are, but you never know...) I didn't so much move otherwise. When you've had a good day by noon, you need to be satisfied with that.
Now I just need to overcome this bizarre urge to make pickles because I honestly don't think I remember ever doing that...