Yesterday I pulled out a fresh jar of strawberry jam from the freezer.
I loved it.
I loved the fact that I could go to the freezer and refresh my little stock of strawberry jam.
There’s something about tasting the fruits of your labor (maybe pun intended).
It reminds me of pretty much every summer I had growing up on the farm. Canning. The smell of pickle brine at 10:00 at night. Slicing corn off the cob. Picking raspberries. Seeing my grandpa eat bread, milk and raspberries for dessert. Making a plethora of jams. Snapping beans on the front porch. It goes on and on…every single summer.
How lovely it was to know that if you needed a tomato for dinner and didn’t have one in the house that you could run to the garden instead of the store.
My favorite summer meal was fresh red potatoes, cucumbers in vinegar, and silver queen corn on the cob. It doesn’t get any better than that. I can still to this day picture sitting in the dining room with the lovely chandelier hanging over our heads and the big brass mirror on the wall and enjoying such a meal on many occasions.
I think canning isn’t the way of life anymore. I kind of miss that. I miss having access to a big garden full of fresh food. Not that we couldn’t do one in our backyard…and we have, but it just isn’t the same.
So for now, I’ll savor the fruits of my little labor with my little jars of strawberry freezer jam. My first ‘canning’ that I’ve done in my 26+ years of marriage.
Who knows, maybe next year I’ll tackle something else.