The Last Cabinet

I am nothing if not my mother's daughter when it comes to having a well-stocked pantry. Since I've worried for several weeks about the health crisis, I stocked up even more than normal, and that meant getting the desert ready for us to stay more longterm.
But where to put all the water, dried stuff, cans, and yes, tp? This is an old-fashioned farm house, with canning shelves in the basement, but at the moment there are also big black widows down there, so food needs to stay up top. I had to tackle the laundry room, and one big cabinet there that remained uncleaned, because Terry, the previous owner, had forgotten to empty it before she left. It was packed with stuff. 
So yesterday I pulled everything out. It was filled with stuff for canning, and hadn't been opened in many years. There were jars of brown liquid, with the label, "Cactus Sondra." Sondra was Terry's mother, so they are probably 50 years old. Pickled cactus? Ted wants to find Terry's grave and make an offering of them, but research came up a blank.
There were also treasures: old thermoses, cool ladles, stainers, and funnels. And an absolutely perfect cast iron casserole. I've priced these in antique stores and couldn't begin to afford one. Today we will fire up the newly coated earth oven, make some pizza, and try to cook a pork roast inside this beauty. 
​We will survive!