Frosh Week

My city is bustling with activity. This is the glorious time of year when all the students return to stake their claim. Underdressed girls and man children infiltrate every last corner of what is fun in the city.

In my defense, I believe I am suffering from PTSD from recently dating one of these folks (see goal 8 in a recent post).

Instead of fighting it I retreated to the safety of a friends house where we spent hours over boiling brine and a mountain of vegetables requiring preparation.

He did the math, long story short a lot of time was put in per jar. I don't care for the equation. I just know that it was a worthy labour of love.