I know I haven’t been posting much. Honestly there isn’t much to say. I’ve working my regular schedule (Tues, Thurs, Sat, 7a-9p, 7a-10p, 7a-9p respectively) which leaves me pretty exhausted. I find my days off are spent in front of the tube watching Netflix videos.
Working these long hours has really pounded home the message I need to get my body in a better shape than pear. I am so stiff when I get home and the next morning. There’s lots of down time in my job where we sit around on really uncomfortable/broken chairs so my body is screaming out for loving attention. Wolf and I talked about it and I’ll be joining the gym next week when my first full paycheck comes in. He joined a couple weeks ago but hasn’t gone. He’s like me in that he needs a workout buddy or he won’t bother. At least we have that sameness.
The job is going fine. There isn’t much to report and even if there was I’m following Noelle’s lead and maintaining a “no work on blog” rule. I will tell one one little thing about this 90-something lady I met last week.
I asked her what she did for work and she said she stayed at home. Her husband, she said, had a dairy farm up in Maine. I thought to myself then you were a farmer but I didn’t say it. I told her I would like to have a farm one day and she said it was a lot of work to which I replied “I’m not afraid of that!” I then told her I was learning to knit and can and she said “Oh, I used to can. Every year I put up at least 1500 jars.” I was shocked. 1500 jars! Holy crap I can’t get a hundred, or fifty for that matter, and she put up 1500! All I can imagine is she canned from morning till night all summer long. I didn’t get to ask her because our ride came to an end. This conversation took place in the mile from the rehab to the doctors office.
I wondered how big her garden was if she canned 1500 jars a year. She mentioned tomatoes and beans so I imagine she had a lot of those growing. But what else? And how much space did she have for her garden? I was so in awe of her. I wanted to crawl onto her frail lap, curl into a ball and ask her to tell me canning stories.