Still Preserving

Today was one of those awful, awful days where crap just kept happening and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Actually, that's not entirely true-I dealt with things after the fact. I couldn't prevent them happening. The dog is sick (he's very, very old), we nearly forgot to pay our health insurance (frenzied drive to central post office on Saturday afternoon to overnight the payment) and on and on. There's still broken glass and boards and nails and assorted debris everywhere I look. The house is cleaned up, but we held off on cleaning the carpet until after the windows are replaced. I keep finding pieces of plaster and the tiny foam balls from the popcorn ceiling everywhere-there is some wedged into the keyboard as I type. I spend most of my time in the two rooms spared from the tornado-the kitchen and Danny's room.

So yesterday, when the 100 mph winds were tearing through here, I stood my ground in the kitchen and kept canning figuring if there isn't actual rotation spotted, I can't be bothered with it. This is probably stupid, but I'm going through severe weather burn-out. Sure, if the weather radio alarm said to take cover, I'd do it-but I refuse to go into a panic. OK, maybe I'll panic a little, but I'm not going to let it interrupt my life-particularly my canning. If I can just keep stuffing things in jars, everything will eventually go back to normal. If that doesn't work, at least we'll have blueberries in December.

Today, I made a batch of cherry preserves and apricot jam. I don't think there is a better smell on earth than apricots and sugar bubbling away atop the stove. I'll post photos tomorrow after the jars cool and I can wipe them clean. The colours are really striking. Until I made my own, I had no idea how bright strawberry jam could be. Likewise, I always thought apricots had a sort of dark, dull colour-until I saw my bright orange jam shimmering in the late afternoon light.

Given what's been happening here lately, this has been a great form of stress relief. There's something almost meditative about preparing the jars and lids, setting out materials, and preparing fruit. The time it takes to peel 8 lbs. of apricots is time spent watching the paring knife move across the fruit-instead of time wondering how long it will take to race to the central post office to send in a late bill. The time it takes to pit six pounds of cherries is time that isn't spent wondering how much longer our elderly poodle will be with us. For that couple hours all that matters is making sure I remember to get out the air bubbles and wipe the rims of the jars clean before sealing them. It is mechanical, automatic, assembly-line type work that a robot could do just as well, but a robot couldn't appreciate the beauty of 8 lbs. of perfect apricots.

If I can just keep preserving things, maybe I won't have to think too much.