Happy Birth Day to the Big Girl!

Soon after birth - August 31, 2004

Five years ago today the big girl was born. We're so very happy she's with us!

Her birthday is always a birth day for me. It's a long story - perhaps too long for a blog post - but I'll recount her birth story here (edited to remove names).

"I’ve been trying to write the big girl's birth story for months now. Heck, the girl is nearly a year old. What keeps hanging me up is where to start the story – what is the beginning? At first I thought the beginning would be the start of labor, but then I realized that’s not when her birth began. Next I thought perhaps her story should begin in December 2003 when I learned that she had come to me and I was pregnant. Then I realized that even that point wasn’t truly the beginning.

The beginning starts in late August of 1991 soon after her brother was born. The boy and I had a pretty traumatic start to his life. His pregnancy went post-term and the obstetric team I was seeing insisted at 42 weeks that we had to undergo a chemical induction. I was very opposed but didn’t believe I had any other options. The doctors threatened to no longer provide medical care to me if I didn’t agree. So we checked into the hospital immediately – they wouldn’t even let me drive back home to get clothing or snacks for the boy's dad.

The boy and I tolerated seven hours of intravenous pitocin before the labor and delivery nurse on staff insisted I needed an epidural or “…you won’t have the energy to push your baby out!” I immediately broke into tears but consented to an epidural. At that point I had been having contractions for seven hours and my cervix was dilated to seven centimeters. After the epidural was started no more dilation occurred. The boy was born via a cesarean section approximately seven hours after the epidural was administered.

While I was still on the operating table the obstetrician told me that I could have my next baby vaginally.

Twelve years later I learned that my next baby had arrived. It was December 2003 and I thought I had the flu. I was tired and nauseous and felt achy all over. I spent a week doing not much more than napping and reading. I finally realized that my period was about a week late and decided, almost on a whim, to try a home pregnancy test. It was positive! I didn’t believe it, of course, and tried another. I called a friend and she told me not to bother getting another box of test strips; I was pregnant.

The hubster and I had been trying to conceive for three years and had really begun to believe that we wouldn’t have a child. I was in shock and ecstatically happy at the same time. I wondered if I could shift gears and parent a newborn again. After all, my only child was nearly a teenager!

That same morning I called my local obstetrician’s office and scheduled an appointment for a date that would be nine weeks into the pregnancy. I asked the receptionist if I could come in earlier and she said no. I wondered what sort of care that was. After all, how did I know what to eat, how would I get prenatal vitamins (when I was pregnant with my son they were still a prescription only item), how would I know what dangers to avoid during the pregnancy?

Well, it turned out I had some light spotting at around seven weeks and I went in then. The nurse practitioner examined me and did a sonogram. We got to see our beautiful big girl when she was just a tiny little being with her yolk sack still attached! At that time we didn’t know her gender just that she was a miracle and still healthy.

It was at that very same appointment that the nurse practitioner told me that I would have to have a c-section again. I calmly explained to her that the obstetrician who delivered my son had used a low transverse incision and sutured with two layers of stitches. He assured me that I’d be able to deliver vaginally with the next child. She explained that our local hospital couldn’t permit vaginal deliveries after cesarean sections any longer. I thought for certain she was wrong; after all, the big binder that the hospital gave to expectant parents had a section in it about VBACs.

It was after that appointment that I began to research the state of birth in our country. I was appalled to see that the c-section rate had climbed to as high as 28% in some areas. I learned that most rural hospitals no longer permitted VBAC deliveries.

I scheduled an appointment to see one of the obstetricians in the practice to discuss my VBAC. I still believed I could have one. During that appointment I learned that the information I had received was indeed accurate. That current ACOG guidelines required that obstetricians only perform VBAC deliveries in hospitals with 24-hour anesthesiologist and obstetrician coverage and our local hospital did not meet the necessary standards. I asked for a referral to an obstetrician who had hospital privileges at a hospital that did meet the necessary standards.

About a month later I met with a perinatal specialist who practiced at a large metropolitan hospital in the nearest city. It was about an hour’s drive from my home, but I was determined to give birth vaginally. After all, my child deserved a chance to enter this life naturally.

This doctor asked a lot of questions about my first pregnancy and delivery. He had some concerns about my ability to deliver a child vaginally because my son had weighed nine pounds twelve ounces at birth and the obstetrician had recorded cephlo-pelvic disproportion as the reason for the c-section.

The perinatal specialist decided to evaluate my pelvis himself and did an internal exam to measure my pelvis. He looked very confused afterward and he told my husband and I that I had a roomy pelvis adequate to deliver a normal sized baby.

We learned, though, that this doctor would only permit a trial of labor (that phrase alone made my blood boil) under rigid restrictions. I would have to have an epidural or a hep-lock for an epidural, I could not go post-term, I would have to have continuous internal fetal monitoring, and I would have to have an IV. I realized right then that I would never have a vaginal birth under those conditions. The anger and resentment alone would prevent me from giving birth if all the chemicals didn’t.

It took me some time after that visit to the perinatal specialist to realize that I did indeed have another option. I could give birth at home without a doctor! I could find a midwife and have a natural birth in my own home. There would be no ACOG telling me what to do and no attorney deciding what was acceptable risk. My husband and I would determine what was acceptable and what was not!

I did some research online and found a midwife who served my geographic area. I immediately called her and explained my circumstances. We talked for some time and scheduled an appointment for my husband and me to meet with her.

As soon as I discussed that phone call with my husband we both knew we had found our midwife! The face-to-face visit confirmed it, but the midwife was exactly what we had been searching for. Here was a birth professional who didn’t feel the need to have a laundry list of medical interventions to prepare for the possibility that my body would fail. She was there to support me and help our baby enter this world the way she was designed to enter.

We loved our prenatal visits with the midwife despite the forty-five minute drive to her office. Actually in retrospect I think the long drive was one thing we really enjoyed. It gave the hubster and me a chance to talk about our baby and the upcoming birth without interruption. It was our “date” for baby talk.

At the appointments the midwife had me check my urine and weight myself and then we’d talk for a bit. If I had any questions or concerns I’d usually bring them up at this point in the visit. Then she’d check my blood pressure and check my legs for swelling and then came the fun part – listening to our baby’s heartbeat. It was great that the midwife checked the baby’s position as well. I didn’t realize just how much CPMs (certified professional midwives) know about babies and positioning that doctors don’t seem to know.

The midwife suggested a diet high in protein and low in simple carbohydrates for me. I ate lots of healthy unprocessed foods and exercised twice daily by taking a one mile walk with the family dog (and the hubster in the evenings). I continued to take a prenatal vitamin and also added in a vegan iron supplement to boost my blood iron levels. I had a very healthy and happy pregnancy! Despite the fact that I started the pregnancy as an obese out-of-shape woman of 36 years of age I had no complications.

We expected our daughter to make her grand entrance sometime around August 21st based upon the sonogram done at seven weeks. But, due to some excess emotional/psychological baggage I was carrying around with me, she didn’t arrive until August 31st. Those ten days were a bit frightening because we knew there would come a time when the midwife wouldn’t be comfortable continuing to plan for a homebirth. She was fabulous in not giving me a concrete cut-off date, but I knew we couldn’t let things go on indefinitely either.

During those days after the expected due date I used nettle and red raspberry leaves in a tea. I also continued to exercise regularly and the hubster and I used nearly every natural form of inducement known. Still, our daughter wasn’t making an appearance.

I went to see the chiropractor and had some pelvic adjustments. They certainly made a difference and I felt better, but still no baby.

I finally had a discussion with the midwife at a prenatal appointment. The hubster suggested that I was holding in a lot of anger related to the boys's surgical birth. The midwife and I talked and she agreed that might be the case. She gave me a homeopathic remedy to try. I spent another week crying and working through some of the grief I still had connected to my son’s birth.

Finally, early on the morning of August 31st I woke up with contractions at around 3a.m. It wasn’t anything new, necessarily, since I had been having contractions for nearly a month already. But I sensed these might be different. It was the first time I had early morning contractions. I used the toilet and went back to bed. I didn’t bother to wake my husband up because I still wasn’t sure this was the “real thing” yet.

At 5a.m. the contractions woke me up and I began to time them. They were consistently about five minutes apart (some four and some six, but averaged out to five). We called the midwife at around 6a.m. and let her know I was finally having contractions with some regularity. At least they had been regular for an hour. She told us to keep an eye on things and call her back when I needed or wanted her there.

I hopped into the shower and knew that our baby was coming! The contractions continued on that way for the next couple of hours. I think it was around 7a.m. that the hubster called the midwife and let her know it’d be okay to come over. The midwife arrived around 8a.m. and I was just finishing up paying our bills online (I wanted every detail wrapped up before the baby came). The midwife joked and said it couldn’t be too far into the labor if I was still working at the computer.

It was soon after that that the boy woke up. We explained that I was in labor and that we thought his sister would be born today. We asked him again if he wanted to stay for her birth. He was thirteen years old then and very uninterested in hanging out while I was in labor and had no interest in viewing the birth. We called a family friend to pick him up and he went to stay at their house for the day. He left us with instructions to call him home, though, as soon as she was born!


In early labor - August 31, 2004

The midwife's assistant, arrived at around 10a.m. My contractions were still very easy to work through and I walked around our living room, dining room, and into the kitchen. They were coming about every three minutes or so by this time. As soon as the midwife arrived the intensity of the contractions increased. Suddenly I couldn’t talk through them any longer and I was “checking out” a bit. It was as if I was hearing people through a fog during the contractions. During one contraction in the kitchen the midwife's assistant suggested we might want to move upstairs now – unless we wanted our baby born in the kitchen.

It was around this time that I entered active labor. Soon after I walked upstairs the contractions became very intense and the next six or so hours are a bit of a blur to me. I remember focusing intently on moving my baby down and just working through the contractions. The contractions were coming about a minute apart and were very strong. I remember vomiting a lot and not wanting the hubster to touch me any more (I get very hyper sensitive during this stage of labor).

At about 2p.m. I hit a point where I was so exhausted I didn't know if I could go on, but the midwife suggested that I try to move around more and she fed me some honey. I walked back and forth between the bathroom, my bedroom and the baby's room and did get another burst of energy.

Some time around 3:30p.m. or so the midwife offered to check my cervix. This was the only time a cervical check was suggested and I wanted one done. If I hadn’t made significant progress we were going to consider using the birth tub or some other methods to try and give me some rest. I was very tired and agreed to a cervical check. She told me she thought I was dilated to around 7/8cm and 90% effaced – farther than I had dilated during my son’s labor. That information gave me a bit of renewed energy and helped me move on to Stage II.

I continued to have hard and difficult contractions for a while and then around 5:15p.m. or so the midwife suggested a homeopathic remedy. She thought I might be fearful. I admit I was. I knew I had been in transition for a while now and worried that we might have to transfer. I didn’t know how long I’d have the energy to keep up with the contractions. As soon as I took the remedy I felt a strong urge to bear down and push.

My daughter was on her way! I continued to have very strong contractions and was now standing in my bedroom. I wanted the hubster again. During contractions I would hold onto my husband and began to push. This continued for about an hour when my midwife asked if I wanted the birthing stool brought in.

The midwife's assistant coached me and let me know that it was in our baby’s best interests if I could get three productive pushes during every contraction. The midwife and her assistant continued to monitor the baby’s heart rate using a fetoscope.

I pushed for a while standing up and the midwife asked me if I wanted the birth stool (I had let her know during a prenatal visit that I thought I’d want to birth in a squatting position). The midwife's assistant went to get it from the van. After the stool arrived I changed positions and sat in the birthing stool.

During the very first contraction in the birthing stool my water broke and squirted all over the hubster! At 6:30pm Stage II officially began. After that the contractions seemed to get even stronger and I felt more of an urge to push. These contractions where I was able to push felt so much easier than the earlier contractions because they felt productive.

The midwife allowed me to continue to labor in the birthing stool for a while, but noticed during one monitoring that the baby's heart tones were weakening during contractions. She decided to have me use the oxygen mask during contractions. That immediately gave me a burst of more energy and brought the baby's heart rate back up to about 120 during contractions.

At some point (and I don't recall exactly when) the midwives decided we weren't making adequate progress pushing in that position and they suggested we move to the McRobert's position. The midwife explained that this position might allow us to maximize the pelvis space available. This position involves the mother lying on her back with legs supported by labor assistants and pushed up and open (imagine a crab on its back). We began with the midwife holding the fabric and the hubster and the midwife's assistant helping to support my legs. Eventually we moved to having the hubster hold the fabric because my pushes were more constructive when he was there.

I continued to use the oxygen and the midwife and her assistant continued to monitor both me and the baby.

Finally, after what seemed like only minutes but had really been hours, my daughter began to emerge. I remember hearing the hubster say he could see her head. Then I heard the midwife commenting that her hand was with her head – no wonder it took so long to push her through! Then out slipped the big girl's head, arms and torso. But her hips and legs remained inside for another contraction. There was my daughter with her eyes wide open caught between her old world (my uterus) and her new world. With the next push she had fully arrived. The big girl entered this world at 8:13pm after seventeen hours of labor.

The midwives immediately placed her on me and we spent about an hour or so snuggling while I delivered the placenta and we waited for her umbilical cord to finish pulsing before it was cut.

We immediately had the hubster call the boy to come home and meet his sister. He was home within ten minutes and bounding up the stairs. He came into the bedroom to meet his sister and called down to our friend and his daughter to come and meet her as well. Our friend decided that this was a family affair and let us know he’d come back in a few days.

I was exhausted, exhilarated, and hungry! The hubster went downstairs to cook me some eggs and toast. While I ate the new daddy held his daughter and began the bonding process.

Looking back on the day it was hard work (that's why it's called labor) and not without significant discomfort, but it was the most exhilarating and empowering experience of my life. I didn't realize until it was over how much of my son’s birth experience had been missed.

What I find most interesting is that the boy who was adamant that he not be there during the labor and delivery is now a homebirth advocate and believes that “every baby should be born at home.” It makes a mother proud!"


Right after birth - August 31, 2004

That's the story I wrote on August 18, 2005 - just shy of a year after the big girl's birth.

It took me nearly a year to write. I now know I delayed writing it because I didn't know how to make the birth sound positive and I didn't want another traumatic birth story. So I ignored the reality of the birth and wrote a sanitized version. After all, the baby wasn't cut out of me and I didn't have an a mandatory epidural or episiotomy.

My view of the birth is very different now.

I was dehydrated during the birth and ended up having horrific lactic accidosis. During labor I had horrible pain in my legs that felt like cramps, but was due to the dehydration and lack of food. The extreme diet that the midwife had put me on actually contributed to the labor issues. The midwife was also fearful that my pelvis was inadequate and didn't trust that I could birth the baby and that's why I ended up being on my back on a bed with two people holding my legs apart rather than walking around and squatting to birth the big girl (which is the position I ended up using for the baby girl). When I told the midwife I wanted to birth upright she insisted that I wasn't strong enough to birth that way. Well...I probably wasn't since she had been starving me and at that point I was severely dehydrated.

The big girl ended up being our smallest child and has severe allergies. I partially attribute the allergies to the high protein diet the midwife insisted upon during the big girl's pregnancy. You see, I was fat and the midwife has a real hatred and disgust of fat people. She was so afraid I would develop gestational diabetes despite all clinical evidence that my blood sugar levels were lower than normal that she would only take me on as a client if I followed her diet.

I loved being home to birth, but hated having the midwives there. They didn't listen to me and didn't trust at all what I was telling them. Instead, they were convinced that they knew what was happening in my body better than I did.

While I was able to birth in my home and the big girl wasn't cut out of my body - she wasn't entirely permitted to birth naturally either. It took us both several months to recover from the experience and I'm still healing. For readers who are dealing with recovery from birth trauma a great online resource can be found at Mothering.

It was the baby girl's unassisted homebirth that really showed me what birth was designed to be like! But that's a story for another day.

Today is the day we celebrate the big girl and all of the joy she's added to our lives. :)



September 1, 2004


Our big girl - September 28, 2004

Searching the tree....

the family tree, that is.

Today I began working on family genealogy and found it to be rather more challenging than I had expected.

These days we're all tracked via social security numbers; vital records such as birth certificates, marriage certificates, and death certificates. But those ancestors who are farther back in the family tree might have never had a social security number. And vital records are local or state records that may be hard to access - especially when you aren't sure where the ancestor was born.

And then there is the spelling. Just how was that surname spelled? What if your family didn't keep records, or isn't willing to share the records? What if your family is estranged or doesn't communicate with certain members? It all becomes complicated fairly quickly.

I'm making some progress, but it will take more digging than I had thought.

Bread and Butter Pickles - Canning Tutorial

Yesterday I finally got around to canning up some pickles. The cucumbers were very late this season (as were most of the veggies) and we only planted two cucumber plants thinking we'd just eat them raw. It was a good year, though, and we couldn't keep up with them so I decided to try using Grandma M's recipe for bread and butter pickles.

Last year she sent me pages from an advertising cookbook that appears to date back to the late 1940s or early 1950s.

This is the recipe:

Bread and Butter Pickles

6 quarts medium cucumbers, sliced
1/2 doz. onions
1 cup salt
1 red pepper
2 green peppers

Cover with cold water, let stand 2 hours. Rinse. Boil together 1 1/2 quarts vinegar, 6 cups sugar, 1/4 cup mustard seed, 3 teaspoons turmeric, 2 teaspoons celery seed. Pour over pickles while hot and seal.

Pretty different from canning recipes of today, eh? :)

I'll walk you through what I did and how I adapted the recipe for modern canning standards.

First I did slice up a bunch of cukes, onions, and three peppers. I used our mandolin to slice them, but a knife would work just as well. I didn't have a lot of time and wanted to get them sliced up quickly! I wish I could tell you exactly how many but I didn't keep count. If you've read any of my previous canning tutorials I tend to just work with the produce I have harvested and then keep on canning.





After I sliced the veggies I put them in a large stockpot and added the salt and cold water to cover them. They kept floating up on me so I put a heavy plate on top to keep them under water. I let them soak.



After dinner I went ahead and filled up my All American canner with 8 wide mouthed pint jars and hot water. I turned on the burner and brought them up to a boil.



While the jars were heating up I went ahead and mixed up the liquid. I doubled the recipe because I had a lot of cukes to work with. I put in a large pot 3 quarts of white vinegar, 12 cups of sugar, 1/2 cup mustard seed, 6 tsp. turmeric, and 4 tsp. celery seed. I turned on the burner and let that come to a boil.



I got out a small saucepan and put in 8 jar lids and turned the burner on low to warm them up.





Then I rinsed the cukes, onions, and peppers and put them in clean bowls.

I set out the rest of my equipment - jar lifter tongs, magnetic lid lifter, canning funnel, and 8 wide mouthed rings.



When the jars had boiled for five minutes and the liquid had boiled and was at a simmer I began to take out jars to fill.

I filled each jar with the cucumber mixture to about 1" shy of the top of the jar. Then I filled the jar with liquid to about 1/2" of the top of the jar. You have to be patient with these because it takes a bit of time for the liquid to fill the jar in between the veggies. Then I put a lid on and screwed down a ring. Repeated until all 8 jars were full.



Then I put the lid back on the canner and turned the heat back up to high. When the water began to boil I set a timer for 10 minutes. When the jars had boiled for 10 minutes I turned off the heat and took the lid off the canner. I let the jars sit in the water for another 5 minutes.

Then I lifted the jars out using my tongs and set them on the countertop on top of a piece of repurposed cardboard. They began to ping almost immediately letting me know the jars were sealing.



This morning I removed the rings, labeled the jars and the hubster carried them downstairs to our food storage shelves.

I have another batch planned for later on after the baby girl wakes up from her nap. :)

A very busy day filled with walks to the grocery store, and play


and more play,


and canning bread and butter pickles using Grandma M's recipe.
More on this tomorrow!

Happy birthday to you! (warning - sappy mama post)

It's the boy's birthday today. He is now 18 years old - an adult in our society. Yet he's not. He's still my little boy.

I look at him and remember the chubby little baby, the smiling toddler, the curious preschooler, and the funny little boy. I remember the awkward teenage years and the wisdom and humour he brings to my existence.














As with all of my children he's taught me so very much. He reminds me to see the wider perspective. His empathy reminds me to consider the feelings of others and to consider the "whys" of peoples' actions and to have compassion. He has a knack for seeing the side of an argument I'd prefer to ignore.

We're so very different, he and I, and yet he's one of my closest friends. We have almost nothing in common. He leans toward the conservative and I toward the liberal. He supports bans on gay marriage and I support equality for all. I detest RPGs and video games. I have no patience for the manga and games he likes. I can't even begin to understand teen culture of today and we struggle some days to find enough common ground to have a conversation.

And yet, he'll patiently listen to my discussions about the latest sewing project or the new canning recipe I want to try. And I try so hard to understand why the latest game is holding his attention and listen patiently to his explanation of the strategy that gets him to the next level.

I love him. It's that simple.

I'm so blessed that he came to us and give thanks for his energy and presence.

How does your garden grow?

I thought today I'd give you an updated view of the garden. These photos were taken yesterday when the girls and I were playing in the back yard:

Here you can see the cucumber plants on the left and the cantaloupe plants on the right. You'll also see some of the strawberry plants.


These are pepper plants, a tomato plant in the container, and some basil off to the right.


Pepper plants and a lone chewed upon brussels sprout plant in the center. Tomato to the left and more peppers to the right.


Apple tree in center. Behind it is the rhubarb on the left and raspberries on the right. Off to the left is a container squash and on the right is a container tomato. In the far back left is one of the rainbarrels.


Basil (cut once for drying and this is the second growth)

A view of the beds along the western edge of our yard. You see two acorn squash mounds, a long row of tomatoes on the left, carrots and broccoli in center, and a view of the cukes to the right.


A closer look at the carrots and the broccoli behind them. We seem to always struggle with carrots. That is one crop I'm trying hard to master.


Volunteer potatoes in one of our compost bins. I'm curious to see what the yield will end up being!


A view of the Harrelson apple tree. Raspberries in the back left along with the other rain barrel (and watering cans, hose, chairs, etc)


Here's a view of most of the back yard. You see the strawberry bed with the cukes and cantaloupe on the end, the now empty green bean beds, the container plantings, the raspberries, the apple trees, etc.


And here are the acorn squash that were lucky enough to get planted in the raised beds.


We began these garden beds about 5 years now in the Spring I was pregnant with the big girl. Each year the hubster has built another bed or two and we've continued to add perenial plantings like the rhubarb, raspberies, apple trees, and strawberries a little at a time.

The beds are a simple construction of 1" x 6" untreated lumber (pine) in 8' or 4' lengths, depending upon the bed. Some of the beds the hubster built this year are made of 2" x 6" he salvaged when he rebuilt our front porch last year. It was built in the 1920s so we're pretty confident the lumber is untreated as well.

Our dream is to some day own a small farm, but until that dream is realized we plan to keep on practicing and growing here on our small city lot.

picked a peck of pickled peppers...

Okay, so I didn't pick them pickled and it probably wasn't near a peck, but I did can them up and create pickled peppers. I took the chili peppers and banana peppers we harvested from the garden and transformed them into 10 pints of pickled peppers this morning.

In case you want to know to do it yourself, just follow along.

First I washed and cut the peppers. I like mine cut into about 1/4" wide rings. This recipe called for 11 cups of cut peppers, but I never measure the produce - just work with whatever I have on hand. I know, for instance, that my big pink bowl filled to heaping will usually yield me 7 quarts or 14 pints.



Because the boy is still off on vacation this was actually a two day process for me. I washed and cut the peppers last night and then did the canning this morning. I also put my pint jars into the canner and filled it with water last night.

Then first thing this morning, while I was getting the girls their breakfast, I turned the burner on and heated up the canner. I boiled the jars for 5 minutes. This helps kill any lingering bacteria that might be in the jars and is recommended any time you're canning using the water bath method.



While that was boiling I made up the brine. This recipe actually makes 5 pints so I doubled it. I put in 12 cups of white vinegar, 4 cups of water, and 6 crushed cloves of garlic. Brought that to a boil and then turned it down to a simmer.



Next I got out my favorite small saucepan and put 10 lids in it and set that on low heat to warm the lids.



After that I got out my jar rings (10 of them), magnetic lid lifter, canning funnel, and jar tongs. I set them on my work surface - portable dishwasher that I wheel up to the stove. I set down the big bowl of sliced peppers on it as well.



After we finished breakfast the jars were ready.

I took a jar out of the canner (using my jar tongs), emptied the water into the sink, and put the canning funnel in the jar. When I work with peppers I either use gloves or use a spoon to avoid touching the peppers. Today I used a spoon. I spooned peppers into the jar and shook the jar a bit to settle them down. Then I filled the jar up with brine to about 1/2" from the top of the jar. I took a lid out of the warm water using my lid lifter and put the lid on the jar. Screwed down a ring and the jar was ready to go back into the water bath canner.





Once again, I used my All American pressure canner as a water bath canner.

I continued filling the pint jars with peppers and brine until all 10 were filled.



Then I covered the canner with the lid and made sure the heat was on high.

Once the water was boiling again I set the timer for 10 minutes. They processed at a boil for 10 minutes. Then I took the lid off of the canner and turned the heat off. I left them in the canner with the lid off for another 5 minutes.

Then I lifted them out of the canner using my tongs and set them on the counter on top of a repurposed piece of cardboard I keep around for just this purpose. It's actually the top off of a cardboard pizza box, for those who might be interested. ;)

I waited for the pings to let me know that the lids were sealing.



Then the girls and I went outside to play in the back yard. I harvested some tomatoes, cucumbers, and broccoli. The girls played on the slide, see-saw, and in the sandbox.















After we were done and back in the house I removed the rings from the cooled jars and checked the seals. I wiped the jars down and labeled them with the month and year and "pickled peppers" in case I might forget what they are.

These peppers were, for the most part, picked from plants we started ourselves from seed. I believe I paid $1.12 for the seed and didn't even use it all. We grew the plants under fluorescent shop lights in our basement until it was warm enough to plant them in our garden.

From that seed we now have 10 pints of nearly organic pickled peppers (the Heinz vinegar wasn't organic). Compare that to 10 jars at around $4.00/jar and that's quite the savings!