I peeled my last peach this morning. I dehydrated and froze the dregs of the 90 pounds that we picked last week while Mister Baby discovered the thrill of water play.
My neighbor, who turned eighty this summer, spent several early mornings sharing her wisdom and several well-worn Ball jars. Sometimes as a mama, you feel like you do the same mundane tasks every day. In a weird way, canning and processing 90 pounds of peaches provided an opportunity to do something completely new. It's not because canned peaches from the store are terribly expensive. I want them to remember pulling food from our garden. Picking fruit with him strapped to my back, and keeping leaves out of his mouth. Eating peaches from the tree.
I want them to know that food doesn't just magically appear in the produce aisle. I remember the kitchen full of steam while my mom canned fruit in the summers. I remember the neon green relishes she would make. Claire begged and begged to come along to Lola's for canning. Soon enough, she'll get to help. I can't wait.
6 comments:
BEAUTIFUL!
~Mom~
90lbs... now that is impressive!
What a sweet lady! The ones you picked....were they the ones that come off the seed easy? :)
They were red havens. Supposedly they come off easy. Did you get out there, Karen?
When we start canning applesauce next month it will be for the same reasons you articulated: not because store applesauce is expensive, but because I want them to remember our trees, the apples, and all of it.
I have no doubt your peaches taste better than what you buy on the produce aisle! I haven't forgotten about sending you something. It's in the works;) Miss you, friend!
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