Canning Season

We've been blessed this fall in two ways: first, with beautiful sunny days that barely touch 75 degrees in the early afternoon for the last two weeks, and secondly, with two trees brimming with Elberta peaches. Standing over the sink yesterday as I gently pulled the skins off of one immersed in an icy bath, I thought about how many years I have been "putting up peaches" (as they say here in Utah). My sisters will attest to the indelible memory we have of standing in the kitchen, the oscillating fan moving the unusually warm air for Rexburg, and each of us "manning" a station of the production line that my Mom had so skillfully contrived for us. She instructed us at every turn, including the careful placement of the rosy halves into the jar so the end result would be pleasing to the eye. My husband and I canned peaches at Wymount Terrace our first year of marriage--I was so eager to carry on this tradition. I know there were years after that when I had a baby in a  backpack or holding onto my legs as I finished filling the final quart jar to complete a batch. Is it worth it you ask? Who knows. This year, the satisfaction of preserving the fruit grown and picked from our very own trees is rewarding. The sweet smell of the syrup and steam from the canner will always remind me of Mom's home canning crusade.