I’m afraid I have addiction problems.
I know I have addiction problems.
Often associated with work, accomplishment, and success.
That high that I achieve when I just work a little bit harder.
When I do just a little bit more.
Over the past two years, I’ve made great strides in overcoming my workaholic tendencies.
I don’t let the tasks control me.
I don’t lose sight of my priorities.
I don’t over multitask.
I clean up in between projects.
I strive to start everyday as a new day.
But yet, I am still afraid.
It is autumn in North Dakota.
The instinct to squirrel food away for the winter is strong in this part of the world.
Harvesting, hunting, freezing, drying, canning, preserving.
If you took a look at my Facebook feed everyday, you’d be amazed to see what friends are preserving.
At times they look like super heroes.
At times I feel a bit like a super hero myself.
When I know that we have chicken stock, tomato juice, pickled beans, apple sauce, and even ketchup in the basement.
We have been busy filling the larder.
But along the way,
Amid the finished gleaming jars,
Among the produce waiting to be canned,
Somewhere between the pressure canner and the stove,
There is a bit of disappointment…
A bit of sadness…
A bit of feeling that comes when an recovering addict realizes they are living a “sober” life.
While we’ve been busy,
I haven’t caught the buzz.
The drive to make one more recipe,
The high that comes when you are so deep in the process that you forget about everything else.
The only thing that matters is the finished product.
Forget dinner, forget dishes.
This is awesome!
THAT- I haven’t felt that this year.
I’m about to tap into the goods in the freezer.
I’m about to embark on my favorite process of preserving.
Making jam and jellies.
I have a freezer full of fruits.
Hand picked luscious fruits.
Amazing goodness waiting to be unlocked.
And yet, I am afraid.
I’m afraid this is where I will “fall off” the road to recovery.
I’m afraid that after 7 jars of juneberry jam and 10 jars of blueberry jelly,
And 14 jars of blackberry jam,
And 21 jars of chokecherry jelly,
That I will not know how to say no.
I’ll dig into the Black Currants,
“Just a small batch.”
And the wild plums.
“I’ll have to prepare to more cases of jars…”
And more blueberries.
“We have so many! Let’s do pancake syrup.”
And more blackberries.
“Maybe I’ll make a pie for after dinner…
Wait, dinner? Did I eat lunch? What did the kids eat for lunch?
What day is it anyway?”
So wish me well,
As I venture into the basement.
As I open the freezer.
And I try to say,
“That’ll be enough for now.”