Here I Am, Canning

Katie’s asleep next to me, making cute little noises and mumbles. A little while ago she started humming. “Katie, are you awake?” I asked, and she just kept humming, with a couple snores interspersed. Then she rolled over, lifted her sleeping bag straight into the air, and announced something dramatic without ever opening her lips. I had to know, so I woke her up. She was dreaming about camping.

We’re doing a lot of nothing and being in one place, which is different but good for me. Usually when I’m in one place like this I’m fully immersed in other people’s lives and I don’t get to catch up with myself until I leave. This is different, though, because Katie is sleeping a lot and she also entertains herself. So I have a huge list of things to do and things to write while I am here, and not much of it is getting done, because…

I’m canning. I approach canning the way some people approach building a shed or converting their van. For one thing, there really is no point in cooking unless you make a whole bunch and can the left overs to heat up on your defroster and eat driving down the road. Without canned left overs, cooking is a wasted effort.

Sweet potatoes were on sale for less than forty cents a pound. I sliced them up with beets, boiled them up, and canned ten jars of them. Today I made a yummy stew with meat that was cheap at the grocery store, but it turned out to just be enough for seconds (and thirds) and not for canning. Tomorrow I’m going to the store for more food and jars, and I’m going to make my cabbage ginger garlic soup that’s so yummy and good for the immune system.

There’s a problem with all this canning though: I only have room in my van for twenty four jars. Maybe thirty if I push it.

If I had a house, I would can all the time and I’d open an internet business selling jars of soup. Then I’d lose my mind from being in one place canning all the time.