Knucklehead Knovice

It's no secret I've never canned anything before in my life. My friends and family have long known I was muchly afeared I'd poison someone, so everything got frozen. This year's fruit crop left me no choice in the matter, so I pulled up my courage and bought jars and a canner. *theme from Jaws plays in background*

When I made and canned the peach preserves/butter, after the fact, I wrote to a local gal and asked her which directions I'd read had been correct, because I'd water bathed the first 6 jars, and while they were bathing, I'd found online the opinion that hot preserves would seal themselves and needn't be further processed. I left the second 6 jars on the counter, rightly sealed, then read later in the day that they should be processed, so I refilled the canner and gave them a good boil, being all freaked out over making people sick in the first place. I reckoned I better check with someone who really knew what she was doing, and her opinion was that counter-sealing was fine. I was glad they all got boiled to death anyway.

Enter my nekked, canned pears, when I'm beginning to feel like QueenCanner. I should have known something was awry, when twice the recommended measure of syrup was needed to fill the quart jars, but noooo; I just gave a little growl and made some more syrup. Ding-dong. When they say "pack," they mean pack.


Aren't I cute? ºÜº All you veterans can enjoy a laugh with me, QueenCannerNot. Zoomer or Mrs. Piecrust, you might let me know if this floating pear situation is going to cause anything other than my red face. Like those pears all pokin' up out of the jug o' syrup and into the airspace -- are they going to be a problem?



The LORD hath done great things for us; whereof we are glad. ~Psalm 126:3