Canning is sexy

I have believed for a long time that I was born in the wrong era. My love for all things house-wifey and traditional methods of food prep and preservation really have me better suited for a much earlier era. I was standing at the stove making apple butter today lamenting the fact that so few people can these days... and that most people my age would find my love for this process laughable. sigh. I love canning. It's a beautiful thing. My favorite part is when everything is in the cans and you are just waiting for it to seal and you hear pop, pop, pop which means you did it right!
I like to imagine myself in an age where people (or young men?!) find traditional home cooked foods more appealing than a 2 minute fast food run to arby's. Or a time when an hour glass figure the the ability to cook well were highly sought after attributes in a woman my age.
I have always had this fantasy that one day I would be standing at my stove doing something crazy cool like making apple butter or a pie from scratch and my husband walks in looks at me and tells me his wife cooking for him is the sexiest thing he can possibly think of (and, since you insist on knowing, I am most definitely wearing a June Cleaver-ish dress, heels, and pearls in this fantasy) and then with me glowing in the adoration of the man I love we probably eat pie and spend the rest of our day watching TV or something (you don't really need details)... but the point of my story is, I have always had this dream that cooking was sexy... SIGH.
Occasionally while cooking I try to convince myself that this is actually the case...
Okay, well, I have heard about 6 of the 8 jars pop which means they are sealing now, and my blog break from apple butter is over--I need to go wash dishes. Ugh. Not so sexy.