Yesterday I canned 18 quarts of peaches. That's peeling and prepping over 100 peaches. As with most adventures in food preserving, I grossly underestimated the task at hand. The time, energy, waiting, cleaning...oh the cleaning! I'm sure the end will justify the means so I'm focusing on the promise of this summer's harvest in the winter months ahead.
Back in June we had some very hot days. Our lawn was looking lush, thick and bright green. I mow the lawns on a regular basis here at The Honey Hut and so as I looked ahead at the weather in June, I saw unseasonable and miserably hot weather ahead. I like a very short grass, easier to scoop the dog poop or find Goo's lost and precious cars in the blades. I cut the grass very short that day to prolong the next mowing. The next day was hot and no matter how much I had watered after mowing, the short (oh, very short) lawn shriveled back to a sad brown color. Tim was...perturbed. And he was gracious with me because he only mentioned it a couple times. But I know he has been annoyed because he admitted he hasn't enjoyed spending time in our garden this summer. So over the last week I've been on a mission to revived the lawn with what little free time I have. I found an aerator at the thrift store, an archaic tool of the 1960's. It was a few callouses and blisters, a full afternoon and $3.50 worth of torture. BUT tonight as I was watering I couldn't hold back a smile of pride: I am happy to say the lawn is looking great considering I mostly killed it only months ago.
So my brain is mostly mush. No really. It's an odd byproduct of this choice I've made to stay home and raise My Littles. Before I had kids I was a junior high teacher. My brain's capacity and retention were exercised on a daily basis. I had a thirst for information and facts. My day-to-day fed that curiosity. I feel now my brain is challenged in stamina and endurance, it is competing in an obstacle course in a dense fog. Yep. It's cool though, because even with all that mushiness? The best job I've ever had and will ever have is growing up with My Littles.
And on that note, it is killing me inside to see how big The Little Girls are getting. I looked at Savannah today as I walked her to her classroom and I felt a physical pain in my chest in response to
how grown up she seemed. I'm sick about it. Sick. So, so sick. Time is my enemy as far as The Littles are concerned. I really, really want them to stay little forever.