Sweet Relish

Once upon a time, I was overrun with cucumbers.  I had made enough dill pickles to last nine years, and I go into paroxysms at the thought of wasting food, so I had to decide what to do with these remaining bushels of cukes.  I've never even liked relish, but when I Googled "too many cucumbers" or something like that I found buttloads of recipes for relish.  So.
I like trying new recipes.  No, that's not really true.  I like the thought of trying new recipes.  I'd really just rather pile all my people in the living room and watch a Jeremy Renner movie with them and eat Reese's and then have Cheetos for dessert.  But that wouldn't solve my cucumber dilemma, and I finally settled on a recipe simple enough even I could manage it.
All I needed to start with was six cups of diced peeled cucumber, three cups of diced green and red bell pepper, and three cups of diced onion.  All that dicing only cost me like thirteen hours, ninety-eight muscle spasms, and half a bottle of ibuprofen.  The saving grace was that after chopping all these veggies, the recipe said to mix them in a big glass baking dish with a quarter of a cup of pickling salt, cover them with a towel, and let them sit for two hours.  I used those two hours for physical therapy and ice packs on my shoulder and knife-wielding arm.
At the end of two hours, the veggies were to be rinsed with cold water and drained.  While the veggies drained, I boiled three cups of sugar, two cups of apple cider vinegar, two and a half teaspoons each of celery seed and mustard seed, and a half teaspoon of turmeric, then added the drained veggies and let it all cook till it was nice and thick.  The recipe didn't warn me that the sugary-vinegar smell in the house could almost asphyxiate a person.  Note to self: Don't lean over the pan while you stir this stuff.
When the relish was finally the right thickness, I poured it into hot sterilized canning jars, squeezed their hot lids on, and water-bathed the jars for ten minutes.  I tried not to cry that after all that work, there were only three pint jars of relish.
But, oh, it was worth it.  I found out I liked relish after all.
Later I tried to cheat by using a food processor or blender or other kitchen witchery to chop the vegetables, but those produce a mix that's half too chunky and half too liquified.  Now I mainly use teenagers and that works pretty well.
It's cucumber season again, and when said teenagers are otherwise occupied, I'm on my own with the knife and the cutting board.  Sweet mother of relish, my shoulder hurts.