We almost had a head start. By almost, I mean we did have a head start, until it turned into a false start. I’m not sure how many seasonal canning people are out there right now cursing the name of Great Value after the recent recall, but we are certainly one of them. As the old commercial used to go: box of peaches, $45; apple juice, $3.50; time and labor, $20-$40. 

Finding out your freshly canned peaches are full of arsenic from the apple juice company: Priceless.

So—not to beat a dead horse—but we had to throw away all the peaches that we canned using the apple juice, because they might kill us. 

In other news, we did take our remaining apple juice back to the store and get a refund for the juice, but that doesn’t help offset the time we lost and the peaches we threw away. It happens, and whether it’s a recall or our own canning mistake, I’m sure these peaches will not be the last food we will have to throw away. If they were, then we weren’t adventurous enough.

Snafus aside, we got more peaches before it was too late and set to work canning those with a tried and true apple juice that was just a bit more expensive, but less full of arsenic (as far as we know). Now back on track, we even set out to make a few byproducts since we couldn’t bring ourselves to waste any more food. My wife decided that she was going to use the peels to make peach syrup, which I could only foresee putting on pancakes, but which she explained would be good with her tea, ice cream, coffee and whatever else she desired to be blessed with the addition of the nectar of peaches. 

Canning season seems to have just begun, but already we feel behind after struggling to get the kids to bed by 9 p.m. and starting in on the onslaught of food prep until the wee hours of the morning. The sweet corn is canned and the peaches are still being packed as I write this. Yes, I’ll be going back to help the missus as soon as my report to you, good people, is complete. Even as we wage war with the peaches, our remaining nectarines sit idly by as the tomatoes cry for attention in the other room. 

I’m quite happy for revolving fruit seasons because even though the apples are being harvested now, I still have plenty of time to catch up before they demand their own hours in the kitchen. If you have a good cooler, as I do, you can make those apples wait quite a while if need be. 

Speaking of crying tomatoes, however, it just so happens that our jalapeños, which were planted late this year, just came into a flush of fruit. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough to sell in the farm store, but there are about as many as we need to get our own stock of salsa complete. 

I have to share my amusement as I write this, because my wife has begun talking to herself and the kitchen apparatus as she continues to prep and can. She has all the big pots out that will fit on the stove, and the juggling of tasks doesn’t overwhelm her, but the crazed momentum does contribute to her diminished sanity. Her father, on the other hand, just spoiled himself with a new fancy electric pressure canner, which is as simple as loading and walking away rather than labeling and tracking three egg timers in succession. 

Note to readers, if you plan to do this more than once, buy the fancy electric canner. You can thank me later.

The way out here, we can only try to do our best with what we have. Sometimes life takes our accomplishments and chews them up and spits them out. If you live on a farm, or live by the grace of one, there’s nothing you can do but dust yourself off and keep chugging along. In this case, there isn’t a lesson to be learned; it’s just a thing that can happen. Typically, it doesn’t. All the same, I believe we will be sticking with the Apple & Eve brand over Great Value for the foreseeable future.