pickles and more food

I am ridiculously proud of myself for making my very first dill pickles last night. Last summer, I made a batch of bread and butter pickles, which were fine, but it turns out that we don't really love them. Through the winter and spring, though, I noticed that there was almost always a jar of dill pickles in the fridge. I planted a few dill plants in the spring, with vague plans that I might maybe make some. A few months ago, I found a box of large Ball jars at Frenchy's. I took it as a sign, bought my other supplies, and and picked up seven pounds of pickling cukes at the Argyle market last night. In case you're not a pickler or jammer, these are way easier than jam (not that jam is all that difficult), but there is a fair bit of prep work, scrubbing the cucumbers and such. Along with all of the other sterilizing and processing business. Totally worth it, to me.


This morning, P and I went to a fantastic berry picking spot with some great friends (Hi, G's!) and had a wonderful time staining our hands and filling our - well, my - bucket. Mostly with wild blueberries. There is nothing like them. That spot is covered in blackberries, too, and we have plans to go back and stock up when they're ripe. I see jelly in my future. This time of year makes me a) very thankful that we live where we do and b) very regular.


Speaking of which, tonight, we had some really delicious corn on the cob. It was sweet and juicy, and the boys wolfed theirs down. Phillip looked especially like a cartoon character, going around and around the cob. And Thomas took his empty cob (which I had cut the kernels from - it's tricky when you only have six teeth) and used it to play peek-a-boo. So cute, they are. And if a certain one of them says 'No' to me once more today, I just might lose it. Sometimes I'm at a loss with him - he knows exactly what I just told him not to do, and he goes and does it. And he has a detailed explanation for why. Which I explain isn't the point. Something no other mother in history has ever dealt with, I'm sure. Yargh.

I have plans for a perfect evening once he stops coming down for a band-aid, water, more water, to tell me something, or to have a hangnail clipped. I'll be wrapping some soap, reading, having tea, and maybe an episode or two of Mad Men. The dresses! I love the dresses in that show.

Happy Friday! Have a lovely weekend.