Canning

My aunt and I realized our fears of canning by trying canning (she in Oakland, I in Portland, but still together in our hearts and fears). We each canned roasted tomatoes. Who will get struck down by botulism first?? Only time will tell. I'm voting for me.
For real though- canning is not that hard and you get to feel like a pioneer or something for the day. I am anticipating a rush of joy in the middle of a deep wintery depression when we open these summery jewels. SUMMER FOOD! I also canned the rest of the peaches that I did not use for my blue ribbon pie, and I think those will be hard not to open later on today.

This week at work was long and grueling. Whips were cracked, tears were shed, the restaurant was packed. I think the wires in my brain crossed after talking to one to many tables. They might have said something like, "Can we have some bread?" and that was it. BREAD? NO! I mean... yes! NO. I mean... of course. Wait. What did you want again? NO!

Of course, I meant yes. But that was it. The waitress part of my brain died last night. I can no longer take requests or offer to fill water glasses. Isn't it sad that I lost such an important part of my brain function over such a fair request? One plate of bread and it's all over?

I can only roast tomatoes. To think I was imagining a long hike in central Oregon today! Not going to happen.

Tomatoes. That's it.