Dill Pickles: When Love Wins:
It started two summers ago when I decided to really start a substantial garden. One year I came home from living abroad and I didn’t know how to deal with my culture shock of coming home to what was up until then the only culture I had ever known. So I retreated to starting a garden. Then after a couple of years I began to actually grow things other than weeds and grass. It was a miracle. This particular year I planted a whole bunch of cucumber plants and before I knew it I had more cucumbers than I knew what to do with. I couldn’t eat them or even give them away fast enough. So once I was throughly overwhelmed with them I decided the only way I could not let the precious bounty of my garden go to waste was to pickle them. I checked out some different recipes and decided to go with a basic dill pickle. It seemed easy enough and pickles are supposed to be one of the “easier” things to can (outside of tomatoes which you just really can’t go wrong there). I say “easier” because really no canning endeavor is easy. It takes time. It takes attention and above all it takes patience. So I harvested the cucumbers, cut them into spears, put the pickling spices together, washed the jars and lids, boiled the water, put it all together and into the water it went. I watched and waited in anticipation thinking about how great these pickles were going to be. Thinking that they were going to be extra great because, well, I made them. Things always taste better when you make them I think. So a couple of days later when my family was over I popped open a jar hoping to share with everyone in all of the planting, watering, and care that went into creating these little guys. My brother took the first one and as he bit into it his face began to twist and contort. Mush. They were complete mush. They tasted great. They smelled great. But they were mush.
I left the other jars in the basement next to all of the other cans of tomato sauce and soup. Part of me hoped that it was just a one jar coincidence while the other part of me knew better. The jars remained there until just last week. I just couldn’t bring myself to throw them all away. All of my hard work, down the drain. Quite literally too as they went down the garbage disposal one by one. It just hit me one day that I didn’t want to see these failures staring me in the face every time I went to the shelf to get something else. It’s a common thing really, to remember the bad and failed attempts rather than the triumphant ones. Sometimes the circumstances are just beyond our control though. And sometimes there just comes a time when you have to open up the jars, one by one, and throw it away. (Or throw it in the compost!)
When Love Wins:
I have a friend that says this all the time. Love Wins. Apparently there is a book out there by the same name that I haven’t read. Charlie Sheen has also coined the new “that’s what she said joke” or the “fail” punch line with “Winning”. So love and winning are kind of all over the place right now. Much like this post…uh…I mean…what?
Anyway my only point about this is…this…
“If you want to be the one to be loved, you got to be the one giving it up”