I seethed and I fumed, and last night I gave up and went to Frog Pond.
Not for cherries. For peaches.
I'm ravenous as a heroin junkie, craving my canning fix. Like those nut cases you see storming the sales at Walmart the day after Thanksgiving, I wasn't satisfied until I'd loaded my cart with five quarts of gorgeous, sunset-colored peaches.
I had this recipe, and I had a plan.
Twenty minutes later, part of me was soothed and centered as I ladled amber-colored salsa into jars. Twenty one minutes later, I almost fell on the floor at my first sultry and piquant taste of peach salsa. Good lord, it's delicious.