Friday, July 23, 2010

Simple Thing

We've all heard it said that it's the simple things in life that really count. But only if we take the time so appreciate them.


Mom called this week while I was looking at recipes to make some freezer jam and she said, "No, don't do that! It's time you inherited my canner and made some real jam!"

That immediately reminded me of the narrow pantry of my childhood, filled with Ball jars that sparkled with shimmery peaches, homemade applesauce, and spicy grape jelly. Mom learned to can from her mom who had the very best pantry, which was perfect for one chair that held a little girl and all her imagination. I used to sit in there when I just wanted to smell the canned goodness, make up songs or plays, or listen to Bobby McFerrin on my walkman.


Grandpa had a cherry tree over his workshop out back, and us cousins would climb up and pick cherries all day while the adults would cheer us on, pointing out the biggest clumps. Mom and Grandma canned those too.


One summer, Mom and I picked peas from Grandma's garden. Now, I hated peas, I still do. I think it's because mom served them, from a frozen bag, almost every night. But there's something about sweet fresh peas from the garden, warm in the morning sun, like candy in your mouth, that can turn a girl to a pea-lover in no time.

I don't have a garden yet, nor a cherry tree (my lemon tree looks promising, though), but as far as appreciating the simple things, the sparkling golden sun from our sky light on my very own hardwood floors really just sent me over the edge today, so I thought I'd share.

That's my simple thing. What's yours?

4 comments:

Jen Jacobs said...

My basil plants.

Scarlett said...

The simple things in life that make me smile are watching my husband play with my daughter and seeing her laugh. That brings me such joy.

alady'slife said...

Love the hardwood floors, the sunshine and the cherries. Mountains and waves of them :)

Rita said...

What a lovely post! My simple thing is going home after a long day and knowing that I have coffee in the pantry, or wine in the fridge and a porch to sit on and watch the world go by.