Our Story; with Brenda Varela

Oh it's a friendship alright, and then, it's far more than that. The word "friendship" is too small for what this relationship represents.

I'll have to go back to day one of 6th grade. Don't worry, I won't stay there long but as it was an important day for us, it requires inclusion.

I stood outside the school to meet up with friends before going in to greet our first day of middle school. In new school clothes, in the heat that is September in Florida, with the anticipation of finding out who will be in our classes, there we stood. We really thought we were something back then, didn't we?

A girl gets out of her mom's car and walks over to us, head sort of downward and appearing quite shy. She asked a question of me, one little question... and we have been friends ever since.

That shy girl was my friend Brenda. Brenda was new to our school and so didn't know a soul. I, on the other hand, had lived in this area since birth and knew all the locals. I took her in. We walked to the gym to get our schedules and somehow became fast friends that very first day. Middle school can be intimidating what with all those grown up 7th and 8th graders so we needed to stick together and that's exactly how it went.

Sixth grade girls are seriously lacking in confidence and this only bolstered the relationship. Even though I knew a lot of kids in school, I was friends with only a select few. Most seemed fake and honestly, I just really didn't like many of them. We didn't all come from the same side of the tracks and there were some who thought they were better than us simply because of where we lived.

That was okay, I didn't want to be friends with them anyway. I did, however, want to be friends with Brenda. She was nice, she was funny and she didn't care where I lived. She was incredibly shy! I'd never known anyone so shy. It was almost a challenge to get her to be friends with me but I wouldn't give up. I talked to her whenever I saw her and basically hounded her into talking to me.

Eventually we became inseparable, sixth grade girls will naturally do this.

We spent the night at each other's house whenever we were allowed. Mostly we stayed at my house. Brenda, while shy, seemed to prefer it. I'm sure it was because of our friendship and not because of my older, good-looking, football playing brother...

Brenda became less shy with me as days went by but that wasn't the same when she came to the house. She would put her hand up to her face as a way of hiding it and make a beeline for the bedroom so no one would see or acknowledge her being there. Well, it doesn't really work that way in my family. Everyone wants to say hi and ask how you're doing and especially see if you're hungry (God forbid).

I always thought it was so funny and my family just loved her to pieces! They hadn't met anyone this shy either.

I loved when we stayed at Brenda's house. Her mama made THE best spaghetti I ever ate. First of all, there was the spaghetti that had no sauce, just butter and garlic. What??? I had never heard of such a thing...it was so good! When she made sauce (gravy for the Italians), it didn't have meat in it or any sort of vegetables (peppers and onions?) but, looking back, I imagine it probably had garlic in it. Knowing Brenda, I'm sure it did. Pasta was always cooking on the stove.

Brenda's house was quieter than ours. I'm not sure why, there were four kids in her family too but that's how it was. We rarely saw her brother although he was friends with mine. We mostly sat at the dining room table talking along with Brenda's mom and older sister. Brenda's family talked about everything together. At my house. kids did their thing, adults did theirs.

Brenda and I grew up together. We shared feelings about everything from our families to school, to boys and everything in between. When we started driving, our range wasn't widespread like other kids. We would go to the Handy Way (convenience store) on the corner or maybe to a friend's house. At the Handy Way I was always the one to go in. Brenda stayed in the car. The shyness simply would not allow her to walk into that store.

Brenda's mom would take us to Dino's Pizza which was a huge treat for me. It may not sound like much to you but my parents simply couldn't afford to take us all out for pizza. There were more important things that the money had to go to. The pizza at Dino's probably wasn't all that good but back then, I was thrilled to be eating it.

Even though it was sometimes aggravating for Brenda to be hanging out with her mom, after all we were teenagers, it was fun for me to be around people other than family. Our family was always together, always. Looking back, I'm glad we were but as a teenager, I felt a whole lot different.

Not to share too much of Brenda's personal family life but her dad wasn't around much. This was a strange concept for me as my dad was always there. Somehow her mom found a way to be both mom and dad and while I'm sure she was challenged by it, she sure did a great job of it. Brenda and her siblings were loved and hugged (like it or not) by their mom like only a true Italian mom could do.

They shrugged it off a lot but she was persistent! She even hugged me! I was good with it.

So we grew up, finished school, met lots of other people who we considered friends and we sort of drifted apart for some time. Marriages, kids, different states, divorces, all these things happened to us both.

Then one day we found each other again. Turns out, our lives apart were very similar. Once again we found so much in common and our friendship flourished like never before. Perhaps age made us appreciate each other, perhaps experience, perhaps they go hand in hand?

One very significant thing happened though.

Brenda's shyness was gone. She became a strong lady. She became determined. She became her true self.  I guess I think I always knew she was in there but what a sweet transformation! Her life brought out the strength and what a strength it is!

She now gives speeches, does on-line videos, has two extremely successful businesses and remembers to always thank God for everything in her life.

Brenda is a true joy to be around and I am the one who feels blessed to have her in my life. In fact, I do believe my life wouldn't be the same without this best friend of mine, who I met on the first day of sixth grade. I love you Bren.

From the Quote Garden:

"There is one friend in the life of each of us who seems not a separate person, however dear and beloved, but an expansion, an interpretation, of one’s self, the very meaning of one’s soul." ~Edith Wharton

"Say what you want about aging, it’s still the only way to have old friends." ~Robert Brault, rbrault.blogspot.com

My Sister

They call us "Catholic Twins." We were born in the same year. We are eleven months apart. We are so opposite on most things and yet so similar on very important other things. Mostly, we have the sister bond. It is strong and it is voracious. It is like no other bond and only sisters can feel it.

She is blonde with the most beautiful curls you've ever seen. Me, I used to be brunette but now I'm gray and I have a slight wavy look to my hair. It used to be completely straight. Her eyes are brown and you can just sink right into them, they are a soft, deep brown. Mine tend to be hazel, like my dad's were.

She is the life of the party, though she won't stay long. She flits around like a butterfly, visiting with everyone, smiling, talking, laughing, flirting. She is fun and people want her to like them. They want her attention. I prefer to sit back and watch her work the room.

She can do things I will never understand how to do. She put together a plant shelf I ordered. I thought it would come assembled and when it showed up with a million pieces, she just sat down on the floor and put it together. Just like that. I'm not even sure she looked at the directions.

Every time the power would go out at the house, she would come over and reprogram the vcr (back then, you couldn't watch tv without that thing working). She brought the right medicine for my kids when they were sick and even dispensed it for me. She bought hair color for me before I even arrived in town. She knew if I did it myself, it would just be a big hot mess that she would have to fix.

I can't tell you how many times I heard, "just give it here and let me fix it." I love those words!

She cooked for me when I didn't know how to.

As children we didn't always get along...

There was the time she told me she didn't want to play 'school' with me any more. I was trying to be teacher and teach her how to read and write. We had a chalkboard, what else was I to do???

Then one year, when we received matching dolls for Christmas, she believing herself to be a 'hairdresser,' trimmed the locks from both our dolls. I think we had them for about three days when they got their first haircuts. Mom's make-up was next. This was done without my permission, hence 'we didn't always get along.' The year we got "Barbie Dolls," I hid mine.

At some point growing up, laundry became my job. There were six of us so there was plenty of laundry to be done. And, no, we didn't have a dryer so all that laundry went on the line out back. No big deal, I was used to it and I still hang out the clothes. However, my sneaky (oh, did I mention she can be sneaky?) sister decided to wear my fresh, clean clothes and then, without me knowing it, she would put them back where she found them after having worn them for a day.

Here I go to the closet thinking I have a clean outfit for the day only to find that it had been worn...Yes, I could tell!

Let's see...she threw a knife at me, she called me names, she yelled at me more than my parents did. She knew how to push my buttons, that's for sure.

She also defended me to no end. It didn't matter who you were, how big you were, how tough you thought you were, if you messed with me, you messed with my sister and she was vicious when it came to taking care of me. Nobody but nobody was allowed to ever say a bad word about me (not that there was anything bad to say...??? haha) without her coming down on them. It could be scary!

We grew up and grew closer and now we even resemble each other. Sometimes when I look in a mirror, I see her... and my heart swells like the Grinch's did. We can finish each others thoughts, we're there for each other when we need to vent and we're always on our side. No matter what.

We've been described as 'the mean one' and 'the nice one.' As for me, I think you get from us what you give. We are nice and we are kind. We were raised to be that way. If one of us has a mean streak, you won't hear me tell which of us it is...hey, I'm not stupid! hahaha!

As Days Go By, we can look each other in the eye and know exactly what the other is thinking. We love each other unconditionally and we love those who love us. We are sisters. 

Darcy and Denise

"Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer." ~Louise Glück

My Little Brother

When I was little, I loved playing with dolls. I kept them in very good condition with their hair always brushed and always they were dressed in dresses. I kept shoes on their feet, I cleaned them and I put them back in the boxes just like when they were new. I may have been a little obsessed even way back then.

I had just turned 4 years old a couple weeks before my little brother was born. I remember standing at the end of the hallway, outside my parent's bedroom, as my mom was preparing to go to the hospital. I knew only that when she came home, she was bringing a baby with her. I didn't know how she was going to get the baby or why she had to go to the hospital to do so or even what was this thing called a hospital. But a baby was coming to our house and I was excited. Pretty sure I told all the dolls. haha

It was a big deal when mom came home with that baby. Everyone fussed over him and wanted to hold him and feed him. I couldn't wait to get my hands on him and mom let me hold him as much as I wanted to. Which was always. They named him Douglas Lane and in my little 4 year old eyes, he was all mine.

For some amount of time, the dolls took second place. I still played with them but when the baby was awake, he was in my arms. I sat on the couch with him and just looked at him. I told him all the stories I knew from the 'Book House' books and even some I made up. When mom would gather us all up her bed to read to us, Dougy was next to me.

When the baby cried, I went running to be sure he was okay. I drove my mom nuts wanting to hold and feed him. She could barely take him to change his diaper, but she did. She drew the line there. Which, after the first few changes, I caught on to the benefits. This was in the pre-Pampers days.

He grew fast and before long I was allowed to take him outside to play in the back yard. We had a swing set with a slide and I would put him on that slide for hours on end. Of course, I never let him go down the slide without holding on to him but he laughed and enjoyed it nonetheless.

When I was old enough for school, I think I had separation anxiety. I wasn't in fear of being separated from my parents but rather from the baby. I didn't really trust anyone to take as good of care of him as I did and since I was only 5, my rational mind was somewhat underdeveloped. Apparently mom and dad managed because he was always healthy and well when I came home from school.

I couldn't tell you if Dave and Neccy were okay. At this point in my life, I had sort of been ignoring them, much like my dolls. I did try to make Neccy play school with me but for whatever reason, she simply refused. She would scribble on the chalkboard and just walk out of the bedroom, right in the middle of the lessons I was trying to teach her.

Kids will be kids and as we got older, we all got into our fair share of trouble. As mom and dad had four of us kids, they realized early on that they had to chose their battles wisely. They let us fight it out amongst ourselves for the most part.

When it came to Dougy being in trouble, I wasn't having it. No one was allowed to pick on him or fight with him or be mean to him in any way. I would even try to stop my parents from getting on to him. I was always there to intervene. I didn't care what it was, he didn't do it. Not in my eyes. Not on my watch. I may have been just a bit over-protective.

He grew up pretty much unscathed and I knew I had a part in it. He was then and is now a very funny and fun-loving person. He likes to laugh and make other people laugh. His heart is huge and he can't tell anyone 'no.' Even when he probably should. People are drawn to him as he is one of those who is always nice, always kind.

Though he doesn't remember much attention being paid to him by our parents, I remember very well how they loved him. In the evenings, you could always find him on my dad's lap, watching tv. This I allowed because the rest of us were sitting on the floor eating popcorn. I didn't let Dougy eat popcorn - he might have choked on it!

When my dad laughed at something on tv, Dougy would laugh too. Even though he was too young to know what he was laughing about. When he laughed we would all just look over there and laugh along with him to keep it going. Dad used to throw his stinky socks at my mom and that would really get Dougy laughing. I think dad did it just to hear the laughter from that little boy.

Mom called him Douglas all the time. Sometimes even Douglas Lane and he didn't even have to be in trouble. She used to let him stay up later than the rest of us. He was the youngest, he was the baby, he wasn't in school. He was also her last baby and she was spoiling him. You know, I was perfectly fine with that.

When she grocery shopped, she bought the cereal he liked, the jelly he liked and plenty of milk - which he liked. He got the new jeans instead of hand-me-downs. He got tennis shoes from the mall, not the K-mart Blue Light Special like the rest of us had gotten. She never checked his homework or even worried that it was done. I guess she got over that whole thing with the rest of us.

Dougy always rode up front with them. The rest of us were stuck in the backseat where the annoying never ended, compliments of our older brother.

I remember one Christmas in particular. Our grandparents were over and Aunt Karen and Uncle Dee were there. Everyone was dancing in the living room and Dougy literally danced his pants off. He was just a little guy and his diaper clearly wasn't snug. There's a picture of it somewhere. He's dancing with our grandfather, Pa, and his diaper is down around his ankles. No one seemed to be worried about it other than taking the picture.

Dougy got sick once when he was very little, so little he was still sleeping in his crib. Being young myself, my only thought was that he was going to die. I prayed for him to live and I cried and cried. I guess I cried myself to sleep because my mom found me asleep under his crib. I slept there for three nights. He lived. Pretty sure it was because of me.

Siblings are wonderful and next I'll blog about Neccy and Dave...maybe even throw in some cousins because they rock too!

Funny How Things Change

For so long I thought I was living the best life ever and I was, or so I thought...

I was no longer working and didn't need to. I was having a great time doing just what I wanted, when I wanted to. I created a beautiful flower garden that I tended daily. I put in an amazing vegetable garden that provided food for years. I learned how to cut the grass (even on the hillside - not like Florida!) and how to use a weed-eater (some call a string trimmer?) and how to ride a four-wheeler.

I canned vegetables all summer long and put them up for winter. I harvested deer and learned how to process the meat by myself. I'm proud of that. It wasn't easy nor was I quick at it but I got the job done and had that meat in the freezer for no more than the cost of a bullet.

I learned how to make laundry detergent, homemade soap and eventually learned how to use facebook, to a certain extent.

For six years this was my life.

Then one day, a little message appeared on facebook from my friend Nicole. It said simply, "I have a job for you. Come see me if you're interested."

I've been working at The Pinewood Store and Kitchen since February, 2016.
NOW I'm truly living the best life ever.

In addition to all my other interests, I have this wonderful place to be where the people are absolutely wonderful, the food is beyond delicious and the philosophy is everything I've believed in for a quite some time.

You probably got sick of reading about growing healthy food, eating healthy food, making your body well with good food and above all, getting rid of the junk in your body. No apologies folks, I still feel the same way and this restaurant is the epitome of my rant!

When taking the job, I thought to myself, 'what am I, crazy?' I've never been a server, I've never touched a cash register. I've never rolled silverware, I've never made coffee. I've never used an ipad or a touchscreen 'anything' and yet, here I was.

Those first few weeks were daunting. My feet hurt, they hurt bad. My old hips ached, literally! I doubted myself and I'm pretty sure the boss had her doubts as well. But I hung in there and she believed in me and together we found the hidden stash of possibilities that existed within.

These days I am a server and a pretty darned good one! I use the touchscreen order system and the touchscreen cash register. I roll silverware with the best of them and I even learned how to make coffee!

You know how I love things to be organized, well they just let me go for it here. The pantry, the walk-in cooler, every shelf I can get my hands on - gets organized. It's heaven.

I can't say enough good things about the people I work with. Mee is the fearless leader of the pack and she has motivational skills like no other! The cooks on the line bring to life the prettiest, healthiest, tastiest food I've ever seen or eaten. The servers run marathons taking orders, filling drinks, delivering food and teaching our customers about our food and our philosophy.

The people who perform the task of dish washing have the single hardest job in the restaurant. Rinsing, washing, sanitizing, re-stacking, repeat, repeat, repeat all morning, all afternoon, all evening. Amazing. Think about it, a pile of dirty dishes is actually a sign of success, wow!

There are many hats to be worn here and we get a chance to wear them all at some time or another. We all make pizzas, we all clean tables and sweep floors. We all work at the register and we all wash dishes. We work as a real team and we somehow have a great time doing it. I never have a day where I don't laugh whole heartedly!

One of the first things I heard someone say during my training was this, "if it needs filling, fill it. If you use the last one, stock more." In a restaurant, this couldn't be more true.

To say that our customers love us is an understatement. They come for the whole package. The healthy food, the atmosphere, the friendly staff and feeling that you're right at home here. We have our regulars who keep the wheels rolling and we have new customers who come from near and far.

Our customers are always fascinated with the interior design, they are eager to learn more about the food and when they leave us, they go with a full belly knowing they ate well and were nourished. Nourished not only by the food but by our endearing commitment to healthy eating and feeding the community.

The experience is like no other. Come see us, you'll agree!

"The food you eat can be either the safest and most powerful form of medicine or the slowest form of poison." ~Ann Wigmore

A Fascination...

Have you considered living "off the grid?"

Well I have. The more I read about it, the more I realize I'm clearly not prepared to do it but I'm certainly fascinated by the subject.  Some of the television programs we watch show people who are working towards a life off the grid. It's not just a matter of deciding to do it, there's a whole lot of work involved and even more planning. Whew!! I was tired after reading just a few stories of how people got started on their journey to live off the grid.

It seemed I needed to read more and more, to learn what their lives are like, to understand what it means and what it takes. I'll let you know up front, it won't be in the plans for my future. However, were I twenty years younger, I would definitely be having a go at it.

Aside from a stockpile of non-perishables, whether in a root cellar or basement, there are other things to consider; water, fuel, the means by which to keep meat frozen or cured, heat when the weather turns cold, and, of course, paper products and items for personal hygiene.

In one story the writer advises you to put items on your list when you're low on that item. Not when you are out. In his situation, he and his wife made trips to town only once every couple of months. They quickly learned that there were certain things they simply could not do without for weeks on end. In their case, coffee was high on the priority list. I don't drink coffee but I thought that was pretty funny!

There are a lot of things these 'off grid' people give up in order to live the life they want to live. They have electricity by means of solar power and batteries. They've learned that certain times of the day are less power-exhaustive so they use this time for internet use and television time. Typically they go on-line in the mornings for just a couple hours (both have home-based work) and in the evenings, if the power supply is high enough, they'll watch a couple of hours of television.

Everything revolves around their power supply. They never receive an electric bill. They do have a generator for 'just in case.' But as the story goes, they feel like using it is cheating. They don't use it unless they absolutely have to. They live in the mountains of Colorado. The power they do generate is primarily for the refrigerator and freezer.

They have a sizable garden, they have chickens for eggs, meat and fertilizer, they have goats for milk. They use the milk for making soaps and cheese and for their own consumption. They hunt deer and elk, they trap beavers and they set snares for smaller game like rabbits. They do some fishing. The meat is typically frozen - the freezers are solar powered!

Almost all vegetables are canned, saving room for meat in the freezer. Onions, potatoes, leeks, carrots and other root vegetables are stored in straw in the root cellar. They grown cabbages, beets and an assortment of greens. If they eat bread, it's typically made at home and with whole grains that they mill themselves. They grow and dry their own herbs and pickled vegetables are high on their list for daily consumption as anything with vinegar, keeps a gut healthy.

They are strong and healthy from daily exercise on their homestead. They cut down trees for wood fires in the winter, thereby saving that precious energy. They use wood for cooking during all seasons and have mastered several techniques in the way of cast iron cooking. Fascinating stuff!

Chopping wood, tilling their gardens, tending their grounds and upkeep on their homesteads are all in a day's work. Indeed, I thought I was busy! I do think I'll put wood chopping on my list of things to learn how to do.

Their breakfast is early as they're out by daylight tending to things. Lunch is their feast with meat, vegetables and cheeses. They eat fruit to curb their 'sweet' cravings. In summer, dinner is light, typically a salad from their garden with more pickled vegetables. Maybe some left-over chicken added, if there is any. They especially like chow-chow and pickled green tomatoes. During the winter months, soup is their mainstay for dinner. All kinds!

I'm not sure that it's a simpler way of life but surely it must be a healthier way. They don't go to jobs, they don't have traffic issues, there is no pollution. They take care of themselves and they protect their land and livestock from animal predators.  And, as I said before, they do not get an electric bill. Both an impressive and difficult way of life. Something to think about.

I've always felt I was born too late, probably decades, I would have been happy as a clam living the pioneer life. It's probably why the homesteader life is fascinating to me. How about you?

Keeping it Country

Well folks I'm closing in on six years here in Tennessee. I can't say I'm officially a country girl but it wouldn't be for lack of trying, learning and doing. I see life differently now and I'm happy to say that living out here in the country has taught me lessons I never thought I needed to know.

Fences have to be checked and mended regularly, trees will fall in the driveway when there is no hint of a breeze blowing, hunters will trespass and poach, wood needs stacked even if you don't feel like doing it, kindling needs gathered and sometimes, in the winter, you might not see another person outside your home for days on end.

When I first moved here, I wondered why people waved at me when they didn't know me at all. They can be sitting on a mower when I drive by and they always raise their hand. They might be checking the mail at the box and the hand is waved. They pass me on the road and sometimes they just lift their fingers from the steering wheel in a small sort of wave. It never fails to happen though and I've actually become a waver myself. I don't know the people I'm waving to and they don't know me but it's a 'country' thing to do and after you're here for a while, you just do it too.

If I tried that in Florida, I'd be in a perpetual state of waving!

I've gotten used to no traffic lights, very few stop signs, no lines on the roads and by all means, no street lights. At least not on these old back roads. Friends from Florida visited recently and the drive from the interstate to our home was a 'white-knuckle' experience and I completely understand. The main road they traveled on is said to be so curvy you can see your own taillights. I'm inclined to agree as it's dangerous even in the daytime. My friends came in after dark.

There is no Wal-Mart in this county and I'm perfectly fine with that. We buy our beef and pork from a local farmer. He's open from November-March and we're welcome to view the entire operation. In fact, when you drive up, the entire operation is right there; cows grazing in the pasture and pigs grunting as they happily wallow in the mud. They are slaughtered in the most humane way possible.

To some the word slaughter is too harsh but it's the reality. In fact, all the meat that everyone consumes must be slaughtered. At least these animals aren't being raised in feedlots and then herded into a commercial slaughter house where hundreds of animals are processed on a daily basis. Only a few at a time are processed and the butchers are experienced and mindful of keeping waste to a minimum.  

It seems healthier to me to buy direct from the farm and there's no doubt it tastes better. It actually has a lot of flavor! Though I still have to buy chicken from the local grocer, my hope is that it will be available on the farm someday too. I'm sure there are chicken farms around here somewhere, I just haven't found them yet!

My friend Brenda told me she didn't like venison, that it didn't sit well with her. I shared my thoughts with her; maybe it wasn't cooked right (which does take some learning and practice), or, perhaps her system was so used to the growth hormones and antibiotics in industrial meats that all-natural meat was being rejected. She found this thought interesting and something to consider.

I explained that in the same respect, my system rejected most restaurant food. It just depends on what you're used to and what you have eliminated from your food sources. Your body will let you know if it doesn't appreciate your 'food decisions.' Ha ha ha!

Speaking of my local grocery, it's very much small town shopping. The cashiers, all three of them, know me and greet me when I walk in the door. The produce is locally grown, the fruit is typically from Florida or California. They have country hams hanging in the meat department, they make their own sausage and cure their own bacon. They don't have a pharmacy or a bakery and they don't sell beer or wine. It's customary for the bag boys to help you to your car with your groceries and they take the buggy without asking, it's just their way.

Sure it may take me 25 minutes to get there but there's no traffic, no traffic lights and no crowds. I'm spoiled by always being able to park right up front by the door. Always. Try that in Florida, right?

I've learned the art of building a good fire - just getting it started was a challenge at first!
I've learned how to string barbed wire fencing and the importance of good gloves!
I've learned how to use the weed-eater and the importance of wearing long pants when doing so!
I've learned that drinking water all day is a good thing!
I've learned how to relax, that things will get done and that I can't do it all in one day... or one week sometimes!
I've learned that my family and friends are just a phone call or a facebook chat away and that's important as days go by.

Keeping it Country!

A Couple of Canning Short Stories

Canning my own hot pepper sauce - July 2015
For years "Trappey's Bull" has been our favorite bottled sauce. Should I find that I must once again purchase hot sauce from the store, "Trappey's Bull" will continue to be the choice. Long ago my friends, Steve and Sherry Daugherty, introduced me to it and I've never found one that tasted better.


We eat a lot of hot sauce so I decided to try my hand at it. A few ingredients from the garden and I was on my way!


Since I have been picking tomatoes every other day this summer, I decided to put them to use as hot sauce. The recipe I found called for eight cups of tomatoes. You would be surprised how many tomatoes it takes to make up eight cups! Trust me, it's more than you would guess. I guessed and I was wrong. lol


Fortunately, I had plenty of tomatoes with me so it didn't hold up the production of the sauce. I'll make note so I have enough for the next batch. In canning I find that note taking is essential. I always think I'll remember little things that happen or that "make" the recipe but that's not the case at all. Rather I always forget. My recipe books are full of notes for next time.


My friend, Claudia, and I love growing hot peppers. I'm not sure why when we can only tolerate just a little heat but we do love growing them. We grow jalapenos, habaneros, ghost peppers, cayenne peppers, hot banana peppers, etc. These are especially handy when you want to make your own hot sauce. It doesn't take much! I think my recipe called for a cup and a half. I used two cups, couldn't help it, they were too pretty not to use them.


You'll definitely want to use gloves for this process and you'll want to be careful not to nip the gloves while chopping the peppers, it's easy to do!


While the ingredients were cooking on the stove top, the whole place smelled like a wing house... mmm! After cooking down for about 45 minutes, the mixture goes into half pint jars and into the water bath canner. The recipe said it would make six half pints, I somehow ended up with fifteen half pints... don't ask me, I've no idea!


The batch does have to go in a blender to make it smooth. Well that turned out to be fun in itself! I put about three cups of sauce in the blender, turned it on and out of the top it splashed! All down the blender, all over the buttons, all over the counter and all over my hands. So much for wearing gloves to protect me from the hot peppers! lol!


After that, you guessed it, one cup of sauce at a time, holding the blender cap very tight! I made note in my book to help remember this next time...


I'm excited to try this sauce on some smoked chicken, ribs, and so many other things. I'll put it in chili, beans, tacos, etc. Anytime I can use it, I will!


I might even share it with those friends of mine who like a little heat when they eat. It's hot but not too hot. It's tasty without being wimpy. No one likes a wimpy hot sauce.


This recipe could certainly be made without canning it but I've no idea how long it would be safe in the refrigerator (if there's even any left to refrigerate). For me, canning is the way to ensure quality and safeness.


The making of it was a bit of a lengthy process but it's fun and it's so worth it to have all that hot sauce on the shelf. My tomatoes won't go to waste and Claudia and I have another reason to keep growing all those hot peppers!


Have you made your own hot pepper sauce? I'd love to hear your experience and I'd really love to see your recipe!


Canning Vegetable Soup - July 2015
So for my first attempt at canning this soup I got just a little over-anxious. I cut up my fresh vegetables, got them measured and in the pot. As directed they were to boil five minutes before ladling them into the jars.


The directions clearly said 'hot jars.' But in my haste, I let my jars cool down too  much and the bottom of the jar cracked as poured the first cup of soup into it.


What a shame to waste so much food but with the possibility of glass being in the mix, I had to let it go. Of course I quickly recovered because there were still three quarts waiting to be filled.


I ran the jars under very hot water then proceeded to fill them with soup and with no more breakage. Whew!


I ended up with three quarts and a pint to put on the shelf. I was sure hoping for more but I'll make a bigger batch next time, now that I know. Duly noted in the canning book!


This canner holds seven quarts and that would be much more worth it as they have to stay at ten pounds of pressure for an hour and fifteen minutes. For that kind of time, I'd like a bit more to show for it.


Ingredients: Tomatoes, carrots, green beans, corn, celery, onions, water (I used homemade vegetable broth), salt and pepper.


*I'm thinking about adding cabbage to the ingredients next time!