Karen Needs a Bath
My daughter dug up a six by twelve foot section of the yard and made a raised garden five years ago. We brought a truckload of dirt to fill the raised bed. We have enjoyed the fruits of her labors over the past few years. This past spring, she wanted more and cleared another equal section to the previous. Then tilled in compost and fill dirt to bring the garden to level with the rest of the yard. She planted tomatoes, jalapenos, and several other vegetables in the upper garden. In the lower one, she wanted some squash and melons.
The garden produced a healthy number of tomatoes and peppers, but their appearance lacked desirability and therefore not really sellable. What do you do when your garden gives you ugly tomatoes, we made salsa. The first batch came out three weeks ago with a little bite to it. For the second batch, we kicked it up with some hotter peppers and even better taste. The third batch made this past Wednesday scored a heat level between the first and the second.
However, this time my wife used a strainer instead of a bowl to hold the peeled tomatoes allowing the clear liquid juice to leak all over the counter. As she deseeded the red orbs, they added to the mess and eventually overflowed the counter.
As the juice dripped from the counter, our four-legged Karen licked up the juices falling from two sides of the counter. What Ginger didn’t count on was the juice to continue to drip as she lapped up the scrumptious people food. By the time we finished dicing the five pounds, her head, ears, and snout shined with sweet clear juice from the butchered tomatoes.
As the diced tomatoes, jalapenos, onion, cilantro, garlic, and other flavors stewed in the pot, Ginger’s head became crusted by the now-drying juices caking her face. Mom laughed at her appearance as I smiled for our Karen really didn’t care.
The salsa simmered for a half hour before ready for canning. The jars settled into the boiling water for five minutes and then on the counter for filling. The boss filled them, and I corrected the level with a teaspoon. She left me to cap, close, and the canned food aligned in the boiling water for twenty minutes.
“Time for a bath,” caused our resident Karen to act surprised and she sought out a hiding spot. Mom being the ultimate manager of the house, pulled out the Kryptonite for Ginger’s Karen antics. With one genuine dog cookie, our resident Karen becomes a fun-loving dog who loves bath time.
Ginger entered the kitchen soaking wet before the salsa crossed over to the counter to cool. She pranced like a queen until she remembered the licking was not complete and started on the legs of the counter. “I already wiped them down!” smarmily out of my mouth. The Karen returned with a disgruntled stare.
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