
You cook. You clean. You fold laundry and pull weeds. You put the same plates in the dishwasher day after day.
And do you get satisfaction from all this?
I don't.
But I know a little secret. One of the easiest ways for a domestic engineer to acquire the satisfaction that so alludes us is to can.
Jams and Jellies are the easiest.

Yesterday I finally got around to making my pomegranate jelly from the fruit that I juiced and froze last fall.
It had been nagging at me. Every time I open the freezer there it was peeking out underneath the frozen chicken breasts. It would say to me, "Helloooo? Are you going to do anything with me or what?"
And folks, I don't need that monkey on my back. I've already got two, as in kid monkeys, not addictions. Although I have my fair share of those too. Nothing serious. Don't send the cops.
I tell ya, there is soooo much satisfaction in looking at those deep crimson jars sitting on my counter like precious gems. And they are precious. I get a ton a mileage out of divvying this jelly out to friends who crave it's sweet tartness on their morning toast. You know who you are, you jelly fiends, you!

The jelly is done. I don't have to do it again tomorrow.
The next crop of pomegranates will be ready to pick in October, but I'm pretending that's a long way off.

And do you get satisfaction from all this?
I don't.
But I know a little secret. One of the easiest ways for a domestic engineer to acquire the satisfaction that so alludes us is to can.
Jams and Jellies are the easiest.

Yesterday I finally got around to making my pomegranate jelly from the fruit that I juiced and froze last fall.
It had been nagging at me. Every time I open the freezer there it was peeking out underneath the frozen chicken breasts. It would say to me, "Helloooo? Are you going to do anything with me or what?"
And folks, I don't need that monkey on my back. I've already got two, as in kid monkeys, not addictions. Although I have my fair share of those too. Nothing serious. Don't send the cops.
I tell ya, there is soooo much satisfaction in looking at those deep crimson jars sitting on my counter like precious gems. And they are precious. I get a ton a mileage out of divvying this jelly out to friends who crave it's sweet tartness on their morning toast. You know who you are, you jelly fiends, you!

Oh, and I couldn't help myself, I had to carve a stamp for the tops of the jars. I make this jelly every year, and every year I write on the top "Pomegranate Jelly". Blah. How boring. A stamp is much better, don't you think?
The jelly is done. I don't have to do it again tomorrow.The next crop of pomegranates will be ready to pick in October, but I'm pretending that's a long way off.









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