Pickling Time

Pickling Time momma stood up and stretched arms wide enough to take us all in, more. she had that look the fall look, there every year since I can remember. well girls, pickling time, it is tradition in mama’s kitchen to pickle most everything she can get her hands on if there is no recipe she invents one. like the time she tried pickling orange rinds didn’t work next year she candied them worked out just fine. let me see, there were; relishes for hamburgers and such ketchup, piccalilly, sweet mixed pickles tomato chilli sauce with peaches and pears baby corn cobs, of course her dills best at the county fair last year. this years new attempt pickled watermelon rind soon the back of the house floated on an air of spices and vinegars as we sat on the porch peeling, chopping and dicing. momma always says if you want it in the winter we have to do the work now we talked softly, memories of other years who was here who had gone, occasionally a burst of laughter when a story which always began,’ with do you remember when,’ was retold . the late summer sun warns us as much as our hearts love each other. I guess you could say pickles kept us together through all those years wars, recessions, depression we stood tall and firm just like mommas dills.