Now that my tiny garden is producing miniature 3 bite zucchini and earthy sun-warmed tomatoes that melt in one’s mouth, my kitchen is peppered with the crystal clear sound of pinging jars.
For me, summer means happy days of working in my sun-drenched kitchen persevering the seasonal cornucopia of fresh fruit and vegetables.
I taught myself to preserve summer’s bounty when my young sons discovered abundant orchards in our undeveloped suburb.
Those places are long gone.
But not gone are the memories of young children climbing tall tree limbs, stretching for those ‘humongous apples’; nor visions of their profusely scratched arms reaching past thorns for the biggest blackberries that are always ‘way back there’.
Over the years, our family’s craving for home canned tomato salsa, numerous fruits and delicious jams intensified. Store bought pales in comparison, often tinting the fresh produce taste with its slightly lingering metal after taste.
Home canning is indeed an effort, requiring frequent trips to nearby farms, and long hours of chopping, dicing, screwing and timing.
But, the ache of that labour will be long faded by that cold winter day when I choose one glass jar from rows of glistening filled jars.
When I inhale its opened contents, I am gifted the sublime pleasure of tasting summer days.
(Response to today’s WP Prompt: Handmade Tales: What things do you still prefer in their traditional, handmade version?
For me , the making and eating home preserves is one just homemade I prefer. Then, there is cakes and pies and soups. And clothing!)