I grew up in the heart of wheat country–south central Kansas. Harvest is not an uncommon thing for me to witness. I remember growing up, there would be days we’d have to close up the house on nice days because there was a field just south of us, and the farmer was harvesting (or tilling sometimes) and it would stir up dust. My mom is an asthmatic with allergies, so the dust being blown in always caused problems–even with the house closed up.
Still, I love watching the big machines doing their jobs, row upon row being eaten up by that whirling harvester, soon to be turned into flour… or whatever else wheat is used for. Corn, milo, soybeans, and countless other grains grew in my area of the world. I even occasionally saw a cotton field!
Now, when I think of harvest time, I think of not just the big fields with family or commercial farmers in big rigs, but I also think of the small harvest–the one in a backyard. I’m hardly a green-thumb–TMOTH swears I have the ability to kill nearly every plant. He’s almost right.
My mom grew tomatoes almost every year for several years. In the height of summer, there would be several weeks go by where she’d can a few days a week. Spaghetti sauce was a big one. While my family isn’t Italian, we ate a lot of spaghetti. There’s nothing better than homemade spaghetti sauce–with homegrown tomatoes!
I hope one day I can outgrow my black-thumb tendencies. I’d love to learn how to can for myself, and to teach my daughter when she’s older. I’ve gotten a lot of encouragement from several friends, I just need to bite the bullet, get the equipment… and actually grow something worth canning! Then maybe next time, I can have a happy harvest, too.
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Until next time,