Pedicures vs. Spaghetti Sauce

Every once in a while, we take a weekend trip to visit my in-laws. Jared's side of the family.
They live on the side of a mountain in a house that Jared's dad built with his bare hands from the ground up.
The view is breathtaking. The air smells fresh and delicious.
When we visit, I take long walks through the woods and read books on the porch in the cool breeze.

But this particular weekend, as I was preparing for a lazy day of reading a book in the sunshine,
Jared appeared with a question.

Jared: Are you going to Grandma's with my mom and sister? They need your help making spaghetti sauce.
Me: Ummm... no. I'm staying here and reading a book. In the sunshine. All day long.
Jared: You should go. It'll be like a Girl's Day!
Me: Girl's Day is for getting pedicures.
Jared: Well, this is a Girl's Day in the country. And you're going.

So I went.

When we arrived, Grandma was already giving out precise spaghetti sauce-making instructions.

We had to use all of these...

...and chop up enough of these... fill all of these...

...with this...

...perfectly seasoned spaghetti sauce.

But was the end in sight? Oh no, we were not even close to being done.
As Grandma continued to instruct the kitchen staff...

...we sealed each and every jar...

...until Jared finally arrived to take me home, two hours past my bedtime.

"So how was Girl's Day?" he asked.
"I need to visit my sisters," I answered. "We are going to get pedicures."