A lady who is probably my best friend in the whole world (if you rate friends by what they'd be willing to do for you) called and asked if I'd like some tomatoes to can.
"I've already done a hundred-twenty quarts," Carol said, "and I think that's enough."
I should hope so, since it's just her and her son, Doug, living there.
I used to have enormous gardens, and I'd can huge quantities of vegetables and fruit. When the kids grew up and left, it didn't seem worth all the heat and trouble for just me and Cliff. Also, I have a problem with a tomato fungus, a blight, that seems to destroy the plants soon after they start producing. But back in the old days, I sent tomatoes home with Carol by the bucket. We worked together then, and she'd stay up till midnight canning.
Since Cliff's heart surgery, I buy salt-free canned tomatoes. I pay a premium for unsalted canned goods, and I figured I'd better take advantage of Carol's offer.
Cliff's favorite food in the universe is spaghetti, and as I was skinning the tomatoes to can, I decided to use a quart of them to make some spaghetti sauce from scratch. He's out mowing weeds in the pasture, so it'll be a surprise to him when he comes in to eat.