The prairie woman is not dead yet

Earlier this week, I sent my husband and kids over to my fruit-laden friend Emily's house to pick the unwanted pears from her backyard trees. The pears are quite small this year--the largest among them were baseball-sized--and hard as rocks.

I spent a good part of the day alternating between peeling, coring and chopping pears until I had knocked out the first 35 lbs. Let's just say that it's a good thing my manicure is not a primary concern in my life. Shortly before dinner time, the last of the 16 pints of canned diced pears were coming out of their bath of boiling water.

After getting the kids fed, bathed, wrangled, storied and shoved towards bed, I started tidying up around here and a second wave of insanity struck. Two pounds of grapes, some supplementary grape juice, sugar and pectin have been transformed into the grapiest grape jelly I've ever tasted.

Prairie Woman liveth!

1 comment:

Aunt Rhody said...

Sounds Grape! You accomplished a 'pair' of 'fruitful' tasks.