It's a long story but Mr. Moon came home from Georgia with five gallons of okra.
A tractor was involved in the story but not in the sense of using the tractor for cultivating the okra but in the sense of someone helping him to repair the tractor, and well, uh, shit.
The deal is, I have five gallons of okra.
This is a lot of okra.
And I guess that today I am going to pickle some of it. Not all of it. I would pickling okra well into the night if I were to do that, plus some of it's really too big to pickle.
But this means that I have to round up the canning kettle, the jar lifter, the jars, lids, spices, and vinegar. I'm going to have to go to the store. I'm going to have to wash and sterilize jars, wash the okra, pack the okra, peel garlic, wash peppers, and etc.
I've never pickled okra before but I've sure made pickles before. It's not hard. It's just a process.
I better get started. It's going to be a long, steamy day and I will tell you that when Mr. Moon presented me with all of this okra, I saw that long day coming, and my inner-Mormon housewife sighed with resignation.
Put your orders in now. I have a feeling we're going to have okra to spare.