The first time I remember canning I was 8. It was corn relish as we cleaned out the garden at the end of the season. From my mom I learned that canning is part religion, part superstition, part "because that's what Mammaw did," and all Don't blow yourself up!
Last year I started to journal my "accomplishments" in canning... and tonight took pause to reorganize my shelves check for spoiled jars and inventory.
We've eaten a lot of good shit in the past 7 months!
For my Birthday Homestead Engineer bought me a Presto canner JUST LIKE MY MOMS! And.. I've been learning the art, the voodoo, and the glorious hissssss all winter.
My ladies will be the 5th recorded generation to can in this family, and I now know why mom insisted we'd blow up of we stayed in the kitchen. The women needed space and it's hotter than HELL canning in late August!
But it's beautiful to see all those jars...
And I love nothing more than the dinner conversation "These tomatoes are from Andrew and the eggs are from your Ducks and our bread turned out Soooo good!"
It's almost time to plow the garden which means I'll probably have way more than these to snap in 2017. Cause even though we're all grown momma still plants "a few."
In love, light, and preservation
♡AVR
