I just yelled upstairs that aside from three slices of cucumber that I was in the process of eating that all of the cucumbers have been processed. The better-half wasn’t very enthusiastic. So I walked upstairs and said it again. He managed to give me an atta-girl. When he tastes my pickles, he’ll be more thrilled.
In an hour I will finish making refrigerator pickles with the cucumbers that are now soaking in salt and when I’m done with that, I’ll move the bread and butter pickles I just canned to the dining room to cool off.
Tomorrow, I’m going to process every last zucchini and squash that’s currently picked. I can’t promise that every last one will be eaten or frozen tomorrow because as soon as you stop looking at the plants they shoot out 75 squash, apiece.
The yukon gold potatoes we picked last week are not exactly beauty queens but they are tasty and those mothers are going to be blanched and frozen too. I will be exhausted but the kitchen counters, refrigerator crispers and garage floor will be ours again. At least until Monday.