Can you can? (Vegans be warned…)

This is not one of those “true stories that might actually have happened.”

It’s a “true story that actually did happen.” And it happened just this way…

In the winter of 1990, as I was about to graduate from Columbia Theological Seminary, I attended a meeting for students who would be open to serving churches in the rural southern US. Among the folks hosting the meeting were several pastors and their wives from the Presbytery of Middle Tennessee.

I had done my internship, happily, in Middle Tennessee and was curious to see what they’d have to say.

After much chatter about the benefits of smaller congregations, especially for new grads, and some arias to the benefits of no traffic, there was time to mingle and ask — or answer — specific questions.

Let me say, first, that they neglected to factor mules into the “no traffic” stories.

Let me also say that there weren’t a lot of women near-clergy in the group.

One pastor’s wife asked me if I could can.

Puzzled, I responded with a reasonably safe, “Pardon?”

She responded with a lengthy tale which included the curious fact that, for the first three years her husband served a small Middle Tennessee church, his “raise” consisted of an elder with a tractor plowing up an extra acre of garden for them.

Hence, “Can you can?”

Well, I couldn’t back then. And I still don’t.

I do freeze!

Tonight was a good example.

After a long day painting prayer dot canvases, the obligatory bathroom cleaning, and some more prep for the upcoming Open House and Artist Market at Vista Yoga, I spent two hours with an old friend who’s working through some healing in paint.

Then, it was time to feed the studio angels.

Among other things, the 4-footed crudo selection for today included shrimp heads.

Wild-caught, US, well-frozen shrimp heads.

It works like this…

Bill and I are having roasted shrimp for dinner tonight, along with brown rice and very gently wilted black kale tossed in onions and garlic oil.

The dogs happily ate the aforementioned heads.

I froze the shells for broth, either for us or for the dogs.

That’s a whole lot of good eating from a little bit of shrimp.

It’s a good investment of our grocery dollars.

It’s healthy, for all of us. (No onions and garlic for the dogs!)

It’s delicious.

It’s an expression of honor and gratitude for the shrimp.

And it gives me lots to share.

I still don’t can. Though I did help bale hay when I lived in Middle Tennessee.

I also believe that the world works better for all of us when we feed as many beings as possible with any given bowl of food, whatever we choose to eat.

In the cold and dark of this night, so close to the longest night of the year, that seems like a good thing to remember.

For now, dots. Peace. Love. Joy.