24 September 2013

Apple Butter

I check accomplishments off my list, one by one, as I earn them throughout the day.
  • Wake up
  • Healthy breakfast √ 
  • Don't stab an asshole in the face 

Still early. Don't want to jump the gun on checking off that last one.
Sometimes we have to ask ourselves whether or not we have an angry reason why. We do, you guys. Totally do. Turns out that 90% of the time MY "angry reason why" is what I like to call "other people." Not you. You're obviously cool. I can tell by the way you're reading the hilarious posts on joleendoreen.com. You know what's what.

We were where?
That's right, at why.
And determined it was actually who.
So there's that.

And now here we are.
Back at Why.

It's apple butter season, that's why.
Turning ten pounds of yard work into jars of the sweetest sauce that toast has ever known is enough to make this country girl restore her trust in man. Kissed with the slightest hint of sassafras and cooked to perfection, apple butter breaks down barriers of dissatisfaction in my brain. While the pot of ripe fruit sits and simmers my senses undergo an assault of false content. Happiness swirls around in notes of cinnamon and nutmeg. As a Joleen Doreen, I have no choice but to succomb to the euphoria that erupts from every tiny bubble of the lightly boiling mixture.
The fog of elation is thick during canning season. I try to shake off the jubilation, but it clings like the scent of cooking apples. I could run from it all, but godamit if I don't get blinded by the brilliance of the falling leaves the moment I step out the door.
Optimism is upon me, bearing down with the force of October.

I'll probably die before I figure out how to live.

Like the apples in the pot, I've been reduced to mush. The success of creating a glorious batch of apple butter has clouded my perception of reality. I actually, for a brief moment there, believed things to be right'n good. Through the haze of hopefulness I missed the telltale signs of a bad apple. And it was bitter.
So fucking bitter.
All it takes is one nasty taste to throw you off altogether. Then you're left with a love of nothing you want to swallow, and a whole mouthful of it.

Some things turn out to be so distasteful you want to cut the sorry sum'bitch who is givin' it to you. But alas, it happens, developing a liking for something poison. The lesson here is ya'll need to take a good look at what you're puttin' in your mouth.
And never trust management.

Apple Butter turned out great though.