Fall-------Pickle time

One of my fondest memories from childhood was coming home from school in early September, anf Mother would be making pickles.  This poem was published in the Bangor Daily News.


                                        After school in fall
                                          was usually a
                                            pickling fragrance time.
                                         Mother made relish
                                          and pickles, both
                                             sweet and sour.
                                          It was the combination
                                            of vinegar and spices
                                               creating the smell
                                          that ushered in the season.
                                             There were onions
                                                to be peeled,
                                           and the paperey skins
                                              of garlic to be removed.
                                                I'd help by slicing
                                            cucumbers, or squeezing
                                              small ones into jars
                                                 with a head of dill,
                                            and a bit of red pepper.
                                              After a mixture of hot
                                                 vinegar and salt was added,
                                            each jar was capped. 
                                                We then waited for the
                                                      tell--tale pop that
                                            sealed them before they
                                                  could be stored
                                                      for winter.