On this unseasonably cold early morning, I took my bucket down to the basement and returned with several pounds of softening apples. It seemed like just the thing to warm the house up before the children crawled out of their snug beds. Within the hour, I had my large pot boiling down the apples and ran through the fruit grinder to remove the peels and core pieces. With a little cinnamon, cloves, and sugar, the house began to smell heavenly.
Then a little help arrived on the scene. Stirring the pot is my least favorite task, but to little ones who can sit on counters, it seems like fun.
Not wanting to loose an opportunity to teach my children the valuable skill of multi-tasking, I gave him his spelling list to review. Maybe there is hope in my ability to show the children my secret for accomplishing so much in short time frames. (Yes, I am talking of cold and he is wearing short sleeve PJ's and no socks. I wish I still had their metabolism! I am wearing a thick sweater and wool socks!)
Anton likes to help me can, especially if it is something like a fruit butter. He likes to see the mixture thicken and feel the greater resistance as he stirs. His tactile learning is something I can easily relate too. But after another hour or two, it was time to process the jars. The jars were a gift from one of my new neighbors. She was cleaning out the old barn, the one her and her husband inherited from his grandparents, and came across these wonderfully cute old jars. With some scrubbing and sterilizing, they were perfect containers to use as Christmas gifts.
Now the house has "that smell" not totally achieved by candles or air fresheners. Canning is not just about creating aromas but a journey into past and present. While securing the bounty of the harvest into these jars, I am reminded of how lucky I am. I could go to the store all year and pick up some jam without the trouble I go through today. However I would loose this opportunity to reconnect with previous generations who worked harder than I to achieve this same small jar of goodness. Karl's father says, "Canning warms the soul." Since he is not a particularly religious man, I take this to mean his renewed connection to the past; the good feelings you receive knowing your time and efforts are not only healthier but taste far superior than store bought. Maybe it is the satisfied feeling of seeing the jars all lined up, knowing you have done your part to prepare for the barren winter, or the knowledge that in your hands is a little treasure that only you (and fellow canners) can comprehend.
