9 Pounds of Pickles

"In 2017 My True Love Gave To Me...
9 Pounds of Pickles"
(8 fruit trees planted, 7 successful craft shows, 6 animal rescues, 5 rolling acres, 4 happy farmers, 3 playful kitties, 2 gay roosters, and a home of our very own)"

It's party day!  We've been doing this twice a year since we moved to Wisconsin 5 years ago.  This first year was really important for us to reconnect with friends and family in the area and to introduce ourselves to the new neighborhood.  Since then, it's been more about just getting together to eat, drink and be merry!  A couple of years ago shopping got involved, but mostly it's always been about the camaraderie.  We have friends of all walks of life, ages, and lifestyles.  Our parties bring together the college kids from Stout who are a part of the my local fraternity, our children's friends and their families, our rural neighbors (old and new!), our loyal customers, co-workers, and, of course, my favorite great aunt and uncle who are in their 80's!  And what's a party without PICKLES?!?

An abundance of vegetables means trying to find ways to preserve them to last until the next harvest.  I am not a huge fan of anything canned unless it's pickled, and Chris is a damn good "pickler"!  He makes dill and bread and butter pickles, pickled beans, onions, and peppers, and one year I tried pickling beets myself but wasn't very successful.  Either they weren't very good, or I just don't like pickled beets, but I've never tried them before or since, so I have nothing to compare them to.  I think 9 pounds of pickles is an understatement, because we were harvesting cucumbers well into the end of September-early October.  By that time we were also canning tomato sauce, salsa, and applesauce.  Our house has a large root cellar that is getting great use with all the canned goods, as well of buckets of buried carrots, beets, and leeks.  Chris has a some definite "survivalist" tendencies...he wants to be prepared in cases of the grid going down, mass terrorist strikes, and the potential zombie apocalypse.  I like to tease him about it at times, as I'm much more of a "fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants" type pf gal, but I guess he'll get the last laugh when we're hiding in the basement eating pickles while the rest of the world riots.