I’m drowning in cucumbers. I should have known better when I planted, but I never do.
When the seeds are going in the ground, it’s all hope and joy and rainbows. Then, as the seedlings emerge, I’m thrilled to welcome each and every one. “See: I am useful!” I think. “I could survive a zombie apocalypse. People would welcome me to their camp because I *can* grow things!”
But then I can’t stand the thought of murdering my babies. So I fail to thin.
And the next thing you know I’m drowning cucumbers because I have, um, 12 plants producing in what should be a space for 3.
So, what to do with 9 pounds of cucumber (today’s haul) sitting on the counter? Make pickles.
But, that’s too much produce staring at me to even think about quick pickles; there’d be room for nothing else in the refrigerator. So, it’s a day for full-on water-bath canning. (If you quick pickle, you can’t keep your goods in the pantry because they’ll spoil. But if you water-bath can, they are sealed and can be stored on the shelf for years. Trust me. My mom still sends me her circa-1988 jams.)