Wash 5 lbs. whole crabapples. Do not peel or core. Ha! As if you had time to peel 500 tiny crabapples. For that matter, you don’t have time to make this jelly in the first place, but you’d feel guilty letting all those apples rot on the ground.
Place apples in large pot; cover with water; turn heat to highest level. Check pot continually for boil at first, then get tired of waiting and go read your email. Return to find pot boiling over. Clean up mess.
Using potato masher, crush cooked apples in pot, leaving stains on your t-shirt. Place colander over a large bowl. Pour cooked fruit into colander, allowing best juice to escape around sides of bowl and down the drain.
Measure 8 cups of juice into large cookpot. Discover that bowl has only 6 cups of juice. Attempt to refigure standard proportion of Sure-Jell using calculator and directions at Martha Stewart website; decide it’s too complicated. Cross your fingers and stir entire box of Sure-Jell into juice in saucepot.
Add 1 teaspoon butter to reduce foaming. Stir constantly while bringing mixture to full boil on highest heat. Check clock, realizing this is taking the whole friggin’ morning.
Quickly stir in 6 cups of sugar. Return mixture to full rolling boil, stirring constantly and wiping sweat from brow. With metal tablespoon, attempt to skim off foam. Chase foam across surface for a while as it eludes spoon. Decide a little foam never hurt anybody.
Ladle mixture into glass jars and cover with lids. Store in refrigerator. Check batch later and discover mixture never jelled because you used inferior crabapples.
The National Association of Trial Lawyers has suggested a new legal plea: temporary stupidity.
“Temporary stupidity is easier to prove than temporary insanity,” a spokesperson said. “It wouldn’t require testimony by psychiatric experts. And jurors are more likely to be sympathetic – because, let’s face it, who among us hasn’t done something boneheaded once in a while?”
Legal experts speculate that celebrity doofuses such as Anthony Weiner and Ryan Braun could invoke the temporary stupidity defense, but only by establishing that “temporary” extends to periods of several years.
Tired of articles like “10 things to ask yourself before you die,” which simply rehash the old “stop and smell the roses” theme? Here’s a more practical list: eight things to ask yourself after you die.
I hope you weren't expecting anything profound.
If I ever need to plead insanity, this blog will provide valuable evidence.
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