The butcher’s kids go hungry and the cobbler’s kids go shoeless. I used to hear this phrase often, but perhaps less so lately.

The idea behind it is that the thing we might do as a trade or profession is often so consuming we lack the time to provide that service for our own family. Fortunately, I haven’t had the problem of feeding my kids and I thank God for that. However, the underlying thought is that people in service to others put their own on the back burner.

After a summer of selling our fruits and vegetables, I’m relieved to have a modicum of time back in my pocket to take care of some things we’ve been needing to attend to. The chores have been piling up since before the summer season began, and I’d be surprised if we ever fully caught up with the laundry since the last time it snowed.

In any case, it isn’t just the chores that get our attention now, but also the enriching tasks that come with the season. For the last month or so we sold bushels and bushels of canning tomatoes to our customers with the underlying fear we would either run out of tomatoes for ourselves or not have the time to use them even if we did save a few. Fortunately, we were able to save the very last bushel or so of tomatoes before they ran out and were able to have a healthy last wave of peppers to contribute to our canning festivities.

As for time—well, let’s just say that doesn’t grow on tomato vines.

After a week and a half of our tomatoes sitting on the counters, which had been thoroughly cleaned twice during this period, we finally found a Sunday afternoon to get our canned stuff started.

The tomato portions were of course the most important for freshness. You can freeze whole tomatoes to can at a later time, but it does lessen the flavor. And when your wife has a palate that can discern the past week’s diet of the cow’s milk she drinks from the farm, there’s not a lot I can slip by her. Flavor is king.

On the docket for our precious few tomatoes was priority number one: salsa. Everyone says they make the best salsa, just like everyone says they make the best scrambled eggs. Well, for all you folks out there, I’ve eaten a lion’s share of both and I know two things. First, my wife really does make the best salsa, and second, I make the best scrambled eggs. I welcome challengers, because does anyone really lose in a taste test?

In any event, we cleaned the kitchen for the third and final time before breaking out the tomato mill and big canning pots. I was excited to have my wife use the fancy new pressure canner I got her last year for Christmas, but it turns out she didn’t feel it was necessary for the salsa so I would have to wait for another occasion.

With our four-year-old paying close attention and absorbing everything that was going on, we set to work building the salsa in yet another pot.

For those of you skeptical of the attention span of our four-year-old, I can’t lie to you. He was in fact flopping all over the floor and absconding with various necessary tools that had been laid out in our attempt to be organized.

The way out here, when life gives you tomatoes, you make a circus and pray you end up with something edible at the end. Somehow I feel like my son’s attention will be more disciplined when it comes time to eat the salsa. And for the record, it turned out just as good as ever.