Salsa

My husband loves salsa.  And I love my husband.  So last night we salsa'd.

Rather, we crushed 20 tonne of tomatoes, 3000 peppers, and enough onions to make Chuck Norris cry.  Then we added a truck load of garlic and other spices, boiled it for an hour and a half, and put it in jars.  Salsa.

By 'we' I mean that we, the both of us, actually did it together.  Something that you learn very quickly with a baby is that parenthood is a juggling act.  It requires one free hand for baby at all times - I'm actually  typing this blog with only one hand (please excuse the typos).  So last night as baby seemed to be exhibiting signs of teething (ack! at two months?!  I'm not ready for this), we were tag-teaming the rocking of child and salsa-ifying of tomatoes.

The results of our labours? A sleeping baby and 9 pint sized jars of salsa.

It seems that we should have also tag-teamed the putting on of lids.  I, for whatever reason, neglected to tighten the rings on the jars and they didn't seal.  Lame.  So this morning I got to re-boil, sterilize, jar, and clean everything all over again.  Woo!  ... the things you do for love.