This is the jar which holds the pickles that I wanted to add to my sandwich on a cold and wintry day. The first day after winter break when all of our kids were back in school. The first day of quiet and peace and no whining and no arguing and no clomping around. The first day in which I could eat a meal uninterrupted. This is the jar of pickles which is still sealed.
That's right. I had struggled to open something else- I forget what now- and had mused about, "the joy of the Lord is my strength," and "if it was a life or death situation, you'd be able to get it open," when, lo and behold, I got it. I said my thanks and did my rejoicing. Then I realized that my sandwich still needed something and wished there were pickles in the fridge. There were no pickles in the fridge. There were, however, pickles in the pantry.
Boosted by my previous success, I tried and I pried and I found the grippy which usual doesn't let me down and I attempted to get a knife edge under the seal and... nothing.
Defeated. By a jar of pickles.
I hope this has no bearing on how the rest of 2018 will shake loose.
Seeing as the kids are all back home today after all of one day in school yesterday for a sub-zero temperature cancellation... I'm blaming the pickles.
*Thanks to Dada, who came home and opened my pickles and saved my bacon.*
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