Not Living Up to Standards

Let's face it, adjusting to new ways of living can be interesting... frustrating... interesting... funny.  It can be funny when you don't take yourself too seriously.  I think that's the key, or at least one of the keys to staying sane in times of stress.  We have got to see the humor if it is there.

I've told you about Mr. and his garden.  He is serious about his garden.  He has a BIG garden and has high expectations of not only reaping what he sows, but also having something done with it... promptly.  Gardens don't just take care of themselves.  They need tending.  I'm pretty sure it was Adam, not Eve, who was told to tend that garden.   I'm just saying that off the top of my head.  I don't intend to look at the moment as would hate to be wrong on that.  It would mean I had to change my thinking.

As a new wife, I've been trying to do a little adapting.  I expect him to do some, so I probably need to consider that I might have to work on a few things about me.  One of those things has been trying to work up a little enthusiasm about the garden and the role I should play in that.  Mr. has understood that I don't do extreme heat well, so has graciously forgiven the fact that I'm not pulling the weeds or out in the heat picking the produce.  He does it.  He puts all of it in bags... dirt and all... and hauls it to my kitchen.

It is there that the going gets rough.  The produce arrives on my kitchen counter by the sackful.  I am then expected to swing into action and do whatever needs doing to preserve and use the labor of Mr.'s hands.  Anyone who has ever had a garden knows that everything comes in all at once.  When there are beans, there are BEANS!  Tomatoes... everywhere.  Don't misunderstand me, I'm not unappreciative of all the good things to eat.   I don't have an army to feed, but I'm supplied for it.

In my zeal for becoming the wonderful little wife who cared for the garden, I took that canning class.  I will even admit that I was thinking it might actually be fun to do a little canning.  I know that Mr. appreciated my efforts and saw my attending class as a positive thing.  (One point for me)

The beans came, but no pressure cooker appeared.  Mr. had told me in no uncertain terms that he had a pressure cooker.  Some foods must be canned with a pressure cooker...period.  You can't can beans without one.  So... I quietly mentioned the need for the pressure cooker.   Finally, Mr. produced the pressure cooker, minus the little round jiggly weight on the top that is necessary for the operation of the cooker.

I've mentioned this to Mr. several times.  He thinks he knows where it is, but so far no jiggly weight, and no canned anything.  To me, it is obvious.  The fault of not having a nice supply of freshly canned green beans to look forward to in the fall and winter falls squarely upon the shoulders of Mr.

I was amazed a couple of nights ago when we were in a discussion of all the things that had to be done.  Running a ranch is a full time thing, and gardening also seems to require lots of attention.  I casually mentioned that perhaps next year he might consider cutting down the size of the garden.  After all, one can only do SO much.  I was a little afraid that might not go over well.  I knew from previous conversations that Mr. had cut the size of his garden to about half what he usually does.  I wasn't sure how he would take this suggestion.

At this point, Mr. looked over the top of his reading glasses at me and plainly stated that I certainly hadn't made as much use of his garden as his previous wife.  Ah, there it is.  I'm not living up to standards.  I'm sure my eyebrows knitted together a bit as he continued to explain that while he appreciated my attending canning class, he hasn't seen anything canned.  It was then I smiled sweetly (with effort) and reminded him of that one key thing... you know what I'm talking about... that jiggly thing.  He wasn't going to put this all on me... nope...  I'm not taking an F in wifely garden duties yet.

The pressure cooker remains on a shelf without a jiggly weight.  That means I can't can... yet.  Mr. assures me that he is going to plant more beans to be ready to can in the fall.  What luck for me!!  I'll continue to go about my business quietly and try not to remind him too often about finding that jiggly weight.  We will see how things go.  If I can't live up to standards, I may have to work hard to change the standards.  Tah Dah