The vacation plans are finalized and the deposit on the rental is due in six days. Roughly four months until my next vacation. I'm both exhilerated and nervous since, as I think I've made clear, my vacation track record is not exactly stellar. Still, I'm determined to prevent a self-fulfulling prophecy and will push all thoughts of ruined vacations out of my head starting...now. There, I feel much better. I have every confidence that our trip, along with nine friends and their assorted children, to Harbor Island, South Carolina will be great.


In other news, I finally made the pickled carrots the other day. This time I mixed it up a little (wild woman!) and made carrot coins instead of sticks. I figured that a different shape would be nice in a relish tray if so many of the other pickly things are sticks (you know, asparagus and green beans and stuff like that) . As my sister said, "oooh, very fancy!" At first, I was thinking that it was kind of a cop out, not to put all the carrots into sticks (five pounds' worth), but then she pointed out that in her house canning is a two-person job, with both she and her husband having their own special jobs. I can't be expected to do all the work, she pointed out, so resorting to the labor-saving food processor and making carrot coins isn't a cop out at all. Sometimes having sisters can be so great, like when they tell you your laziness is completely understandable and nothing to be ashamed of.


I'm still plotting my next canning episode. I'm thinking that I might try the Marinated Mushroom Melange from Edon Waycott's faboo Preserving the Taste. It's out of print now, but maybe you can pick up a copy at the soon to be late, lamented Half.com.


If you have been following the news from Iraq you can't help but be struck by the incredible footage of people trying to carry on life in their bombed out cities. I'm always astonished by the capacity for humans to get on with things and I'm particularly impressed by the news of mothers becoming absolute she-bears in order to protect and feed their children. I pray I never have to find out if I'm made of the same tough stuff as my Iraqi mothering colleagues. These women have my eternal respect. As I was making the carrot coins the other day, I reflected on those moms and my incredible abundance. Five pounds of carrots, a decent kitchen, and an hour of peace. On the back end, several quarts of canned carrots, to be put away until celebration or lack of money (or both) dictate that they should be opened. I can as a hobby and an indulgence, one that may or may not save money (depending upon one's real need for things like pumpkin butter and mango jam). Still, I'm aware that I'm feeding my family and doing one small thing to protect against harder times. Since the husband of one of my canning sisters just lost his job and now they're plotting to move 400 hundred miles from where they live now, this has been made even more clear to me on a small picture scale. Whether the trouble is 12,000 miles or just a couple states away, I'm beginning to feel that my impulse for food preservation is more like a deal with the universe. If I promise to keep the hot water bath boiling and the shelves stocked, will you promise to keep us safe?