Who wants to guess how many bags of peaches are in my dad’s freezer?
The answer is:
Too fucking many
This is gonna make … a lot of jam …….
So, I managed to fit all but one big bowl of peaches into the two stock pots …
An hour and a half later, here they are simmering away …
How long is it gonna take to reduce them to jam, you ask?? Fuck if I know at this size lmao
In case you were wondering, it is, in fact, longer than 5 hours, as I am still stirring this jam over the oven :) :) :)
Oh and also there was another large bowl of peaches in the other fridge that I did not see until later, so I did not in fact fit ALL the peaches into the stock pots
On a brighter note, the whole house smells like a Victorian Christmas dinner
Hello again friends, it is currently REAL JAMMING TIME and I have been in stirring hell for seven hours
Went through two whole containers of pectin and a bunch of cornstarch already and things are looking just PEACHY
So, uh, the first stock pot alone yielded 272 ounces, so I … may have accidentally made about 68 8oz jars of jam …… and I only had 36 jars …
Guess I’m going back to the store tomorrow … and going to have to join the local farmers market to sell them …
Anyway, TEN CONTINUOUS HOURS OF WORK LATER, here I am at around 3am sealing my first batch of jars … (entire other stock pot of jam lurks ominously in the background)
God, it’s like when you overestimate how much pasta you’re gonna end up with, only 300% worse
So I woke up today after sleeping like a log to fibd my dad had already gone back to the store (which is like 30 min away) and gotten me more jars because he saw that I needed them
As you can see one of those pachages is the wrong size jar (4oz) so we’ll see if I can fit all the jam into these suckers (plus the two 8oz ones I had leftover)
My dad also put all the jars of jam in the fridge, although since they were all properly sealed (aw yeah) was totally unnecessary lol
He said he accidentally dropped one on the way to the fridge but I checked and it amazingly A) didn’t break, and B) remained properly sealed, so hats off to Ball corp, and also me I guess
Update: WE BE JAMMIN’
Spices I used for this recipe:
-Cinnamon
-Nutmeg
-Ginger
-Allspice
-Vanilla Extract
The combination worked out very well!
Gotta can the rest of it after I eat tho :P
So, I FINALLY managed to can all the jam, except for like … 6 oz of it, so I made shortbread cookies to use that with ;)
Altogether I did end up with 72 jars of jam, 12 of which are the 4oz size though. What the fuck am I gonna do with all this jam, jesus christ
Anyway, thanks for coming to my jam-filled TED talk guys, take care
send me some jam op
This is my bfs grandparents with pecans. They have two full deep freezers filled with pecans
Look at this, and remember it next time someone says that the gay community survived the AIDS epidemic.
We didn’t survive, we started over. We lost all but an entire generation.
This is what “we survived Reagan, you’ll survive Trump” looks like. No, we didn’t.
[[Image description: a screen shot of a tweet from @ hanifleylabi, which reads (quote): The men in white are the surviving members of the original San Fransisco Gay Men’s choir. The rest represent those lost to AIDS. (unquote)
Below that is a photo of the choir on stage, taken from a balcony. Seven men are in white, facing forward. One hundred and thirty-two men are dressed in black, and are standing with their backs to the camera. Description ends]
Reblogging for World AIDS Day
Remember, that this, too, is why Pride Month was started.
ok so the other day i was at sears. I was in the baby section. Im standing there looking at clothes and a lady who works there comes up and is like “oh are you expecting?” And i was like “uhhhh” and because im a dumbass i was like “no i already delivered.” And she was like “How long ago?” And i was just like “two weeks.” And she said “wow! You look great! When i had my first son, i looked like a mess for six months. Is it a boy or a girl?” And i was just awkwardly like “a girl….” And she asked her name and i said Chernobyl and she was like “oh what a cute name! It sounds really familiar.” And i honestly just stood there going through all that and pretending i had a human baby two weeks ago named Chernobyl because i didnt wanna tell this poor lady i was buying baby clothes for my fucking baby opossum
every time i see this text post i forget the ending and every single time it decimates me
1. Become aware of how and when you tearing yourself down.
2. Now that you can catch yourself doing it. Offer counters to the negative self talk. A really useful thing I read was to talk to yourself almost the way you would child. Gentle and patient. Even when they fuck up.
3. Take time to celebrate your small accomplishments. You’ve been attacking yourself for every little mistake. Apply that same fervor to the positive things in your life. Did the dishes even though you didn’t want to? Fuck yeah! Got up and took shower? YES!!! You are taking positive steps to feeling better. Celebrate it.
4. Make lists of things you’re good at/ like about yourself. The first time I did this the only two things in my list we’re that I liked my hair and I had good friends. It was start.
5. Don’t beat yourself up if you screw up steps 1-4. It’s counter productive. When I catch myself calling my self stupid for some mistake or other my response now is,“We don’t talk to ourselves like that anymore. What’s something constructive that could actually help solve the problem.”
Most of the time that seems to work. Not always. But more and more Everytime.
This is literally the most heart warming story I have read on Twitter so far.
I think this is exactly what friends should do, and I feel everyone deserves people like this.
So I was listening to this TED talk (It’s pretty good, check it out) and the presenter,
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and she mentioned that the Palestinian poet
Mourid Barghouti
had said the best way to disposes a people is to tell their story, and to start with “secondly.”
She goes on to explain how this has often happens. We tell the story of the failure of African states, not their creation by colonial powers. We tell the story of poor violent minorities, but not how they got there.
This of course totally changes the story. And I realized the same thing happens to disabled people.
We’re told we’re not able to care for ourselves, that were a drain on society. But we’re not told the start of that story. About the total lack of acceptance, about the treatments that were more likely to cause PTSD than help, about being constantly told we’re causing all this pain in ourselves and the people around us just not trying hard enough, about being screamed at when we do things a little differently because that’s how we need to do them, about how those benefits are just enough to scrape by (or less) in most places, and you have to endure being treated like a criminal to get them, and a million other instances of bullshit that hit a person like thrown bricks.
The other thing is they also leave out the third part of the story. The part where half the people at MIT are dyslexic. The part where the tech industry, you know, the thing that literally all of modern civilization relies on, is absolutely rife with autistic people. There are even tech companies hiring exclusively autistic people.
So fuck the mainstream narrative. Don’t believe that about yourself. Because it’s such bullshit. As I’ve been stimming more and more there have been many moments of mild epiphany. O, I’m afraid of trying because I was (indirectly) told when I was young that my only value was in my intellectual successes. O, I never thought I was good enough because that’s what I was told (directly), and that would fuck a person up. O, I should have just done things the way I knew would work instead of destroying myself trying to do the normal thing. Never have I thought “O yeah, I am a piece of shit” or “I guess I should hate myself over that.”
