A Canning Girl at Heart
I used to think of canning jars
As a chore my mother did.
The time and toil, heat and sweat,
Looked irksome to a kid.
It seemed to me old fashioned,
Preserving all day through.
Couldn't we run to Albertson's
And buy a can or two?
The table has turned, to my chagrin,
On this sweet, vintage art.
With bottles, syrups, lids, and rings,
I wonder where to start.
Is this really me? I ask.
Have I succombed at last?
What is this pull to be like Mom,
And others from my past?
If I were trying to save time,
This road, I wouldn't choose.
It's like a kitchen marathon--
To sprint would mean I'd lose.
There's depth to this, I couldn't see;
My youthful eyes were blind.
It's wisdom, laughs, togetherness,
And total peace of mind.
But, if we're speaking honestly,
I've something to impart:
I still don't feel like I've become
A canning girl at heart.
Admittedly, there is something extremely satisfying about seeing all those bottles lined up perfectly..."pretty little maids all in a row." However, this food preservation stuff is more my husband's urging. He gets us going. I think it's nostalgic for him...memories with his own mother. I can totally appreciate that. I'm hoping that one day I will come to love the process. Right now, I'm loving the result. It gets sweeter every year--I hope it continues. I love the idea of it all...like I said, it's a sweet, vintage art. It is to me--it looks so cute and happy and wholesome and old fashioned--it really is nostalgic. I don't want to let all those things get lost in the fast-paced present. It's one of those "connecting with your people" moments. So, don't be fooled when you see those bottles on my shelf. I'm more a "letter of the law" canner, rather than a "spirit of the law" gal. Baby steps, right?