In the truest sense, freedom cannot be bestowed; It must be achieved.
-Franklin D. Roosevelt

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Chili Sauce!

Melanie and I were at my parent's house on Sunday for a family dinner. My dad sent me out to the garden to get some tomatoes for the salad and when I went out to pick them I was amazed at how many tomatoes were still in the garden so late in the season. I suddenly had an idea…chili sauce!

When I came home from my mission, I brought back a recipe for chili sauce that I thought was absolutely delicious. I knew that my grandma made a chili sauce but it didn’t compare with the treasure I found up in Canada. After I showed the recipe to Grandma she asked if I wanted to make it with her. I, of course, agreed and that fall we were up to our elbows in tomatoes. The chili sauce was so great that I don’t think Grandma ever went back to her own recipe and we had a tradition, every fall we made chili sauce together.

This year I decided I could take on the project without Grandma around to supervise me, at least physically here but I hoped I might still get some inspiration from her. I returned to my dad’s garden on Tuesday and picked every remaining tomato and brought them back for phase one of the recipe—skinnin’ ‘em and putting them to soak overnight in kind of a salt brine. I thought that job should only take an hour to do…well about two hours later I got them finished up, just in time to welcome Melanie home. As I heated the tomatoes in boiling water to loosen the skins, I had a flood of memories come pouring back into my mind. The first memory was kind of funny; it was of an area in my mission, Leamington, Ontario, home of H.J. Heinz Canada. There were tomato fields everywhere and the air smelled of warm tomatoes. Grandma standing at her kitchen sink doing the same job and talking about whatever came to mind. It was always easy to talk to Grandma, I could usually tell her whatever was on my mind and I didn’t feel like she judged me—sure she may not agree with whatever it was I said and have her own opinion, but she didn’t criticize me.



Day two of the chili sauce recipe called for chopping up the celery and peppers and cooking the sauce for two hours. Again, I allotted two-and-a-half hours for the project. Four hours later, I was placing the lids on the jars, burning my hands in the process and just hoping the lids would seal. It was around this time that Melanie again arrived at home and she asked me how the chili sauce tasted, I realized I never took the time to taste it before it went into the jars. Oh well, I guess I will have to taste it later.


Well all’s well that ends well. The jars all sealed and I even tasted some of the sauce on my eggs today - just like Grandma used to make! In the end, I think I did have help from Grandma all those years ago taking the time to teach me a little about canning, sharing her wisdom hoping it would do some good. I think it did. Thanks Grandma.


Friday, October 9, 2009

Where does the time go?

I had the day off today and was sitting down when I picked up Melanie's and my blog book that we made last year off of our 2008 blog postings. Looking through the book and reading about all the adventures Mel and I had last year made me feel a little nostalgic. I then turned to thinking about this year and what craziness we have had. It’s funny in a way, but I realized I haven’t made too many comments on our blog because I never really felt like I had anything worth saying. I was always waiting for something big to come along that I could then write about (apparently after three years of trying to have a baby and Melanie finally getting pregnant wasn’t big enough).



The truth is life is all about the small things…if we are just sitting around waiting for the big events of our life, we will look back with a lot of blank spots. If we are willing to “stop and smell the roses” so to speak, and savor the small things in life I think our lives will be fuller and more memorable.

Speaking of roses, this spring I went to my grandparent’s home to take a rosebush out of my grandma’s garden. Grandma always had such a beautiful yard, she spent a lot of time caring for the flowers and weeding in her yard. I wanted a rosebush to remember her by. I made my selection and brought home what I thought would be a nice memory of my grandma. I replanted the bush and devoted some time and fertilizer to the bush hoping it would bloom. Things got worse and it looked like the poor bush didn’t survive the transplant. I almost gave up and pulled the now brown bush out but my mom and Melanie suggested I be patient (which I have a hard time doing). Anyway, the bush is now thriving and I am glad that I have the souvenir of my grandma.



My point in all this rambling is that everyday something great happens in our lives. There are times when that great thing is really memorable like a child being born, or a new job; but for the most part they are just everyday miracles like waking up next to the one you love or seeing someone smile whom you helped. Or maybe it is just taking time to stop and smell the roses.