Pickles Are Better Than Zoloft

Last week I was in Montana visiting my son’s family where I helped put food up for the winter. Being out of the loop is better than Zoloft. My psychologist husband says it’s because these activities (like my passion for gardening) are low conflict. Whatever…

During the most stressful days of The Santa Diaries production I resorted to some three year old Zoloft I found in my medicine cabinet. Laura began adopting kittens from the animal shelter. Making pickles is healthier.

My son and his wife have an enormous garden. I canned and blanched and froze for six days: pressure canned beef broth, made quarts and quarts of freezer slaw, dill pickles, peach freezer jam and bowl after bowl of cucumber/onions in vinegar for my son. I only checked email a couple of times, and was generally out of touch. I loved it!

pickles and dill

The size of the bowl in this photo is deceptive. Here’s some context.

Mala's-big-bowl-for-web

One of the highlights of the week was a neighborhood Pie Social. Hot dogs and hamburgers on sale for a dollar or two. The pie, donated by neighborhood ladies, was free with a donation jar resting on the table. At least fifteen different kinds of pies, including two Shoo Fly pies I baked with my granddaughter.

I threw gluten, dairy and carbs to the wind and had a piece of cherry pie before my hotdog and a sliver of ShoeFly after. Laura says her friend, Dot, calls a small piece a slither. Every baker reading this knows you have to make sure your donated pie is worthy to be on the table. Mine was. Post hotdog I had a piece of raspberry chocolate pie. This event alone was worth flying to Montana. Who needs Zoloft!

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