In The Pickle Jar

Obviously I have a "thing" about forks and food. But this isn't just any food, this is the first jar of pickles we opened from this past season of pickling. It's been over a month. We had to know if we had wasted 35 1/2 hours of labor over a bunch of cucumbers. The verdict: (quiet please...) THEY ARE SO F$%$ING GOOD! That's right, they are good enough to swear about.

If we were to make any adjustment in next year's pickles, we might, maybe, possibly, add a little sugar to cut down on the tartness. We didn't use any because I HATE sweet pickles. They make me GAG. Lisa isn't too fond of them either. But while eating pickle aftter pickle, Lisa said for the fourth time "they're pretty tart..." and I had to agree. The taste is PERFECT. They're just a tiny bit more zingy than is maybe pleasing in a perfect pickle world. (While I heartily disapprove of agonizing over perfection, which is unattainable, I do enjoy attempting to achieve it in food.) (Huge emphasis on "attempt". Just for fun.)

Yesterday was wonderful. We opened these pickles after spending the day at Fir Point Farm (in Canby) enjoying the giant pumpkin festival with the kids. This trip was nothing like the trip to the Fruit Loop in the Hood River valley. I will post about a zillion pictures of it as soon as Lisa sends me her stellar pictures of a rotund pig named Myrtle whose gorgeousness my camera failed to capture. We came home, ate home-made pickles and drank beer. AND (yes, there's more!) Philip came with the news that we had our first TWO EGG DAY!!!!!! Does life get better than this? Don't tell me if it does, just let me be surprised.