Family Canning…

A few months ago, my mom came up with this great idea that we go canning at the Family Cannery together. Basically, you work for 2 ½ hours at some station in the cannery, helping to can a variety of things like chicken chunks, hamburger, shredded beef chunks, pork chunks, jams, beef stew, etc, and then you can buy a few cases of the products at a good price. They are good products and good to have on hand in case you never go shopping for real food (like me). None of my other sisters would do this with her.

I used to go canning in Seattle (dry foods like flour and sugar), and had fun doing it then, so I thought, why not…good bonding time with my mom, I can stock up on a few items that would be good to have around, and it’s sometimes fun to do work that you would not normally have a chance to do. Every time we’d gone together so far, we were put in the packaging station, where we run the machines that label the finished product, package them in boxes, and label the boxes. It was always fun, easy-going, I could even wear my cell phone and text while I was working…and we had time to rest in between batches…until yesterday.

Yesterday, everything was different. I had a bad feeling getting ready to go, and felt like I should wear my older clothes so I wouldn’t care if I got something on them. But I wore my new tennis shoes, since I’d thrown away my old ones. It had been stormy earlier in the day, and the skies had cleared up, so now it’s cold…about 20 degrees F or so. I met her down there, and arrived just a little late. The orientation was a little different than in times past, and included how to pack the chicken into cans, how not to get burned on the hot machinery, and how not to get your fingers cut off in the machinery. The last thing she said was that our shoes wouldn’t get too messy unless they got the sprayers out (big hoses that clean off the machines at the end of the day). I figured that would put us in the actual canning areas and not in packaging…oh well…I guess I couldn’t get lucky with the easier (and cleaner) jobs too many times in a row. We got all ready and walked in, and everyone else got chosen for other jobs. My mom and I were the last 2 to get chosen, and they took me over to the machinery they were finished with and had me climb up and taught me how to use the sprayers…I could tell it might get a little messy so I immediately went out and traded my shoes for boots. I was up for this…

Yeah…

So I’m spraying chicken parts off of the machinery while trying not to get any spray on the people who are still actively canning chicken parts about 10 feet away. Then one of the older men who works there on a regular basis starts spraying from the bottom towards me! I quickly learned to keep my mouth shut, and was thankful for the little bitty plastic apron they provided, because I figured it would at least help a little. A short while later, I find myself spraying out the bins they had used to hold the chicken, and I realize that I’m SOAKED from my mid-thigh to my knees. I realized I was soaked because I was standing by the big garage door which kept opening to the outside (which was freezing!). The gusts of wind that came in not only made me cold, but also were effective at blowing the tiny bit of apron that had once been useful, out of place…so now I’m wet all down my legs. Then I feel the water dripping down the inside of the boots to my feet. Nice.

I looked across the room at my mom who’d been assigned a nice job washing dishes at the sink. I giggled as I thought to myself, “I’m out…no more of this for me…I’m buying my chicken from Costco from now on! I’m all about supporting people in third-world countries who are trying to work to feed their families doing crap like this…”

When I finished with the bins, they gave me a big broom and I got to sweep up the chicken parts that I’d just sprayed off of everything. Every time I thought I was finished and had stopped working for a moment, they would find another interesting job for me. I finally looked around and found a woman who knew the secret – I swear she swept the same pile of chicken back and forth for 20 minutes in an effort to look busy!

At the end, when I told my mom that I’m buying my chicken from Costco from now on, she just laughed…hard! She thought I was kidding…