I was lucky enough to spend summers in Ontario, Canada for most of my childhood, with my beloved Grandma Edna. Grandma was a master of canning, preserving, and pickling everything that grew in her garden plot outside of town. She would send me home every August with assorted jams, jellies, and other treats tucked safely into my luggage for the flight home. Until the arrival when everyone's luggage came down the chute covered in bright purple stains and stinking of vinegar. Then MY bag came down, and was the obvious culprit! A jar (or two) of pickled beets had broken, and leaked everywhere.
I didn't understand why my father grabbed me and walked away, without claiming my bag.
(We went back much later to fetch it, once the angry mob had dispersed.) Grandma thought it was hilarious, but never packed beets in my luggage again.
Nonetheless, the beets were delicious!
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Yours in Health,