Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had a habit of getting whims and quickly losing interest in them. Working much like a fast-moving disease, I’d tell my mother, “Mom, I’ve got the whims today!” and she would smile at me while quietly counting how many minutes it would take for me to discard whatever project I lugged out and splayed across the living room floor.
I’ve finished very few things in my life- screenplays, college, a beer, The Big Lebowski– but when I do, boy, is it a time for celebration!
Last weekend I started and finished making pickled peppers- and managed to not kill anyone in the process. Yet. At least I don’t think?
In terms of level of difficulty making pickled peppers is not hard- you buy the ingredients, you boil them, you pour them over peppers, you seal the jar- but the process can be long and boring for a young gal who is easily distracted by rays of light and cat noises off in the distance, so this accomplishment was a mighty, mighty achievement.