My first-born son and I have had pleasant conversations about “enough” for quite a few months. But yesterday I shot all the verbal ammo a farm girl raised in the fifties could muster against the idea of home canning. I have distinct sensory memories of hot summer days in a kitchen made hotter by processing tomatoes: arms discolored to the elbows by the juice, little seeds and curls of vegetable skin stuck to flat and vertical surfaces, and the cloying smell of anything in too great of quantity.
He countered that he would only want to put up a dozen or so jars. That would be enough for his pantry. I was silenced.
Today I darned holes in wool sweaters, thrift shop finds for this son’s winter days. I learned to repair clothing as a child, more of frugal farm life. It gave me great pleasure to stitch the tiny holes up to make a slightly worn garment very serviceable. The stitches set my mind free to roam. I saw 12 jars in a pantry. Enough tomatoes. Enough stitches.
I try everyday to remind myself of enough. Enough packing, enough phone calls, enough pressure. And remind myself that it will all work out because it has already worked out.
Cazare Bucuresti Sector 3
Please let me know if you’re looking for a author for your
blog. You have some really good articles and I believe I would
be a good asset. If you ever want to take some of the load off, I’d love
to write some articles for your blog in exchange for a link back
to mine. Please send me an e-mail if interested.
Thanks!
Thank you for writing Cazare. I am enjoying doing all the writing at this time. Enjoy your writing.