T.

R. and I are making pickles on Friday, something
I've always wanted to do but somehow in my canning
days never attempted. I tended to stay with the plums
and tomatoes and jam. My brother made dill pickles
many years ago when we all still lived with mom,
and I recall a crock in the darkness under the house,
a simmering secret. Think I'll forego the crock method
and go straight to the jar. And yes, we'll be hoarding
them all to ourselves. No apologies!

And the sun has returned today, after great drama
in the rain and wind department. It's still summer.
I am not putting away the sandals.