Making Pickles and Life Decisions

It’s supposed to be spring, but the weather didn’t get the memo. I had been looking forward to making pickles for my canning and preservation class, imagining open windows, sunshine, and the smell of vinegar filling a warm kitchen. Instead, I was bundled in layers, fighting off what I’m pretty sure is either the flu or Covid. Whatever it is, it’s persistent.

To top it off, our long weekend was hijacked by house problems — specifically, a leaky porch roof that made everything else feel harder. We had planned to do some gardening, but between the unexpected repairs, the cold, and being sick, not much went smoothly. My husband and I were both exhausted, frustrated, and pretty over it.

We started reflecting on how much has changed over the last couple of years: serious illness in the family, a cross-country move, building a new house, and most recently my pending layoff. Some of it was exciting, some of it draining, and all of it left us feeling like we’ve been running on empty for a while.

I told him I needed to get clear on what’s next, especially with my job search. It’s not just about getting hired — it’s about finding something that fits into the life we’re living now. So we talked through what that looks like. After going back and forth, we landed on a plan: I’ll be focusing on remote or hybrid roles, ideally within a specific radius of Toronto. With our dog needing care during the day and his job being fully on-site, that decision helps set some realistic boundaries around what I apply for. It feels good to have that figured out — fewer applications and interviews that end in an impasse, and hopefully less burnout, if I focus my energies.

Now, back to the pickles — because when everything else feels messy, sometimes food gives you a little bit of order.

This week’s class assignment was bread and butter pickles, which I’d never made before. The process was straightforward: a quick grocery run for a few ingredients, and I used small Persian cucumbers. I loved watching them change color as they cooked — that signature pickle green. I followed a tested recipe (I recommend the Bernardin website (https://www.bernardin.ca) if you're trying it yourself — safe sources matter with canning) and used the boiling water bath method, adjusting for our 1,000 ft elevation by adding five minutes to the processing time. This time, I avoided my earlier mistake of boiling the jar lids, which ruined the seals on my last batch of jam. We’ve been eating a lot of jam since then — toast, muffins, you name it — because it's not shelf-stable. But hey, it tastes good.

This batch of pickles sealed up perfectly. That satisfying pop as the jars cooled was like a little reward. My husband and I are planning burgers next weekend so we can officially taste test them. Honestly, cooking has always helped me get through stressful times. It gives me something to focus on, a rhythm to follow, and a sense of accomplishment when everything else feels stuck.

What really pulled me out of the spiral this weekend, though, was a visit from my parents. Even at almost 40, I still needed them. They dropped by at just the right moment — when we were feeling sick, overwhelmed, and stuck with this leaking roof. They helped us brainstorm some fixes and invited us to dinner.

That night, we sat at their table and ate fresh chicken and salad — comforting, simple food. I started feeling better almost immediately. It reminded me how much we lean on the people we love, even when we’re well into adulthood. Sometimes all you need is a warm plate of food and the reminder that you’re not doing this alone.

Photo: Bread and butter pickles (before and after). Taken by me.