Yesterday evening I spent some time in the room where I keep the canning. Until recently, this was known as the rec room. It still is, by those not in the know. For me, this room has been transformed from a room dedicated to toys and random assortments of stuff into a room of pride and beauty. This is where I go to stare at my canning.
I could say that I love canning, but I would not be telling the truth. I find canning to be an arduous process. It is sticky. It is wet. It is hot. No, I do not appreciate the process of canning. But oh, the joy that I get from looking at those beautiful jars full of beautiful fruit? That makes it all completely worthwhile.
In the winter, frozen and dried and canned fruits are our staples. We get a winter apple share from a farm, and those seasonal packages of imported oranges. We freeze blueberries, raspberries, strawberries and cherries. And this year, I finally started canning again in earnest. I canned peaches, cherries, and pears for our winter delight.
What was I doing down there last night? I was looking through our canning jars, searching for the perfect cans of fruit to give to my grandmother for Christmas. She is in her late eighties, and is my last surviving grandparent. She grew up on the Canadian prairies, in an era when everyone canned, and can she did. As a child, I remember going down to her basement, where she had not one little canning shelf, but three entire cabinets full of canning, all lovingly labeled with contents and dates.
My grandmother has stopped canning in the last few years. She’s getting too old, she says, and she doesn’t need the hassle. So this year, for the first time, I will not only give her jams and jellies for Christmas. I will also give her a big can of my homemade pears.
To me, looking at all of those jars is beautiful because the contents themselves are beautiful. It is also beautiful because it is the continuation of a family tradition. My mother canned. My grandmother canned. Now I can. And just last weekend, when I visited my grandmother, I mentioned to her that I so enjoyed going to my canning shelf and just looking. She understood. She said that although she disliked the process of canning, she loved looking at her shelves too.
Image credit: Dontbeblue