So last night I made applesauce. I took a little less than 40 lbs of apples (because we had eaten some of the apples while they waited for me to sauce them), cored, peeled, cooked, mashed, and canned them, and it only took me 9 1/2 hours. Jeepers. Amongst the saucing I did cook dinner, eat, put my kids to bed, and entertain a friend for an hour, so I suppose the process could have been shorter. Oh, for the days when sisters and mothers and aunts and grandmas would convene together in a kitchen and SAUCE APPLES! Or make jam, or can tomatoes, or what have you. Canning alone is tough, especially when people also need to be fed and the canning must be orchestrated around daily life, and all the work must be done by one person. Sometimes living in our nuclear family pods really sucks.
The applesauce is delicious, though. I used my grandma Kadie's canner, which made me think of her and smile.
Then I went to bed and got up four hours later to go to work. Four hours used to be normal for me before work, back when I was fraught with anxiety surrounding work and couldn't sleep. This time it was just the apples that kept me up. [p.s. 40 lbs of apples and 9 hours of work=10 quart jars of applesauce. So much work. So little yeild!] I got to work by the grace of God and a mug of tea, since I kept trying to fall asleep at the wheel, lulled by car vibration and horrific radio music, which is always more horrific at 5 a.m., take my word for it. I've been listening to early early morning radio for YEARS. And it SUCKS.
Our first call is to the RCMP station, where a man has walked into the parking lot and up to a cop and asked, "What would I have to do to get you to shoot me?" Fortunately instead of telling him, the cop called us. We call this suicide by cop. Well, I guess not really because he didn't actually succeed, so this would maybe be attempted suicide by cop? But not really because what he actually wanted was help, which he got, and not death.
I've heard of suicide by ambulance before, also. It involves opening the door of a moving ambulance and exiting, and yes, it has been done before [not in front of me].
Sometimes life boggles my mind. On the one hand, there is applesauce. On the other, people are dying of heartache. And my cell phone died in the wash, and still seems important to me, despite all the heartache in the world. Isn't that weird?
I also wanted to mention that I am underimpressed with this season's rendition of So You Think You Can Dance Canada. Hootchie grinding on a stage to music is porn, not dance. Disappointing.
But Riley and I are still famous, so there's that.