Last night I started a huge batch of apple butter. Mom used to make it for us and we loved it. I canned 8 pints today. Not a bad haul, but didn’t take pics of it. Can’t remember where I put my camera. It’s probably hiding in plain sight somewhere, as usual. Tonight I’ll start another batch of watermelon syrup.
There will be more burgoo for dinner tonight. I could live on that, but experience tells me to ration it. Sometimes experience sucks! I’ll have someone get more for me at the Mount St. Joseph picnic. Maybe 4 gallons this time. I want my freezer full. And my cousin Mark will snag a barbecue chicken for me at his family reunion later in August. The famous Leo Blandford barbecue recipe. That is definitely the best barbecue sauce known to man. I’m glad they are carrying on the legacy.
I had a visit from my son Don today. I told him I’m getting a new power chair in a few weeks. He asked what was wrong with the one I have. Told him it broke. He jumped up, pulled out his Swiss Army knife and went over to “fix” it. After working on it for about half an hour, he told me Mike can fix it. Mike can fix almost anything. But Mike had already looked at the chair. Couldn’t fix it. People who work on the chairs can’t fix it. Don still insists Mike can fix it.
I asked him exactly how Mike can fix the unfixable. That’s Mike, the fixer. Don told me Mike can load it up, take it out to his place, and weld it together. Said that way it won’t move around any more. Oooooooooo–kaaaaaaaay. That’ll work. A power chair, supposed to take me places, that won’t move any more. It almost makes some kinda sense in a strange sorta way.
Also discovered this is National Sister’s Day, so… Elaine. Now this is a Rocky Mountain bristle thistle that I have representing my sister Sylvia. Sylvie hates having her picture taken and I promised her I wouldn’t put it on my blog, so I decided on the bristle thistle. Don’t you just love that name? Bristle thistle, bristle thistle, bristle thistle. It’s one of those that is hard to say out loud three times in a row. Since Syl lives in Colorado, about seventeen miles below Elaine, this just seems like such great payback for not letting me use her photo. ‘Specially since she’s such a pretty lady.
Of course, I’m usually the one who does all the falling. Not sure I would want either of them to pick me up though. They would be laughing so hard they would drop me again. And again. Etc, etc, etc. Eventually that could hurt more than my pride.
I almost put this in for Syl, but decided it was a better way to close tonight’s post. I have a watermelon to wash and peel. Tonight I’ll start the watermelon syrup, tomorrow more watermelon pickles. I luv those little picklly morsels.