My mother often canned and froze food, and grape jelly was her specialty. She would process hundreds of little jars of jelly, often attaching little gingham covers that she cut with pinking shears. I still have some in the back of my pantry.
"It's a small community. We all stick together."
This time of year is simply the bees knees mainly because it's meant to be celebrated with comfort food, a new pair of boots and a cuddle buddy. The word "salad" may not scream cozy comfort food but that's because you haven't had a loaded fall harvest salad.
Though it may seem intimidating at first, canning excess garden produce is one of the simplest and easiest things to do -- and your future self will certainly appreciate being able to dig in to all those tasty garden goods long after the growing season is over.
We've all been through droughts and come out the other side, breathed a sigh of relief, and turned our hoses back on. This one has a new factor, an uncertainty over whether this is a California drought with a limited life, or climate change and a look at the new facts of life in California.
I inherited 10 fruit trees, one a 50 year-old Anjou Pear. A couple of apple of unknown variety, five citrus, a Loquat and a Black Fig. They all survived my learning curve, so I figured I had graduated to the level of planting my own varieties of fruit.
Nature gives us lessons all year long, through each season. It totally amazes me. So as you huddle around the bonfire, kick around the leaves, and enjoy the crisp fall air, reflect on the lessons from the harvest and embrace the necessary renewal of winter.
May this autumn usher in an entirely New Era for the whole of humankind, wherein each and every person might have enough to eat each day. May we harvest together the offerings of our mutual Mother Earth and feast together as a family in the spirit of cooperation, communion, and commemoration.
Bob said yes to joining the Katchkie Farm project without really understanding what lay ahead. And in the 7 years of his