I was in the middle of working when my 10-year-old walked up to me and said, “Grandpa and I just made pickles.” Before I could digest that thought, he moved on to his next adventure, and I kept working.
It wasn’t until later that day that I decided to investigate. I found a jar of cucumbers in the process of being pickled in the back room. There they were, floating in a brine, alongside some dill and garlic, and I hadn’t even seen them being picked from the vine.
But, according my boy, that’s exactly what he and Grandpa did earlier in the day. They carefully choose their cucumbers, snipped them off the vine, then quietly tiptoed off to start the pickling process. No one else in the house knew of their adventure, and I’m pretty sure that’s the way they planned it.







