The Joys of Canning, by St. Funogas
It was one of those intolerably hot and muggy days of August. My sister in the Redoubt called to say they could see the smoke from the big fires in California and the Northwest and how hot the weather had gotten even near the Tetons. She said in no uncertain terms, “Only a fool would be trying to get any work done today instead of lounging in a hammock with some lemonade!” And there I was slaving over a hot stove canning three-bean salad before the beans got overripe, the steam making the muggy day even muggier. And yet, I …