I enjoy working in our garden, picking the vegetables every
evening and hoeing between the rows on a weekly basis.
As the garden ages and the summer progresses,
different vegetables come into their peak.
Since it is later in the summer, right now tomatoes bountifully fill my
basket in the evenings.
Once inside my
kitchen, tomatoes cover the counters; their luscious red color begging to be
eaten and enjoyed.
Even with all the
tomato eating and sharing, tomatoes still linger on the counter.
Preserving them to be used at a later time
seems smart.
Okra and snap beans in the garden
The Pikc Your Own
website claims that canning tomatoes is an experience
that your family will always remember doing together.
Since I am all about our family having such memorable
experiences, I decided that canning our garden-grown tomatoes would be a great
way to spend my afternoon off from work with the kids.
With them busy helping me in the kitchen,
they would surely not be bored or want to sit in front of the television
watching one of our only five channels (yes, only five – we do not have cable,
dish, or any other subsidizing form of television viewing.).
Benjamin filled the largest pot we own with water and began
boiling it to sterilize the canning jars.
(The large pot was given to Ben and me as a wedding gift from Amie and
Shaun Harris. Although we cooked
lobsters in it a couple of times over the years, it serves more often as the
official canning pot.) Georgia-Lee and I
worked to get two more pots of water boiling – one to sterilize lids and rims
and the other in which to dip the tomatoes to help remove the skins. In addition to the tomatoes and a few other
garden vegetables stealing counter space, we added a huge bowl of ice cold
water to place the tomatoes after their dip in the hot water, a bowl for tomatoes
ready to be peeled, another for peeled tomatoes, and a final container for all
of the peelings and cores so composting later.
Lots of hot boiling water on the stove, very little counter space, and
two kids, aged 12 and under, in the kitchen – whew! At least it gave us something to do together
in the heat of the afternoon!
Temperatures as of late have been reaching upper 90s and even into the
low 100s!
With all of the turmoil in the kitchen, we failed to
recognize the thunderstorm that had been brewing outside. In no time at all, hail and rain pelted from
the sky as thunder clapped and lightning sparked all around our house. The electricity flickered on and off several
times and finally decided to stay off just as we began packing tomatoes into
the jars. The kids filled the remaining
empty counter space with a couple of wax candles and small battery operated
votives my mother recently gave us. The
kitchen looked like a small Catholic shrine!
Canning by candlelight
With tension running a little high, Benjamin stepped outside
onto the front porch to call our dog Max.
Max HATES storms; he cowers at the first clap of thunder. The kids worried about him. In spite of them calling Max (and me yelling
for them to get inside before they were struck by lighting), Max did not return
home. Benjamin called me from the
kitchen to the front porch, saying he thought something might be burning across
the street at our neighbors’ house.
Their driveway dips downward, preventing a full view of their house from
our porch; however, sure enough, something was burning at their place. With the lightning popping all around us, we
feared it struck something in their yard and started the blaze. Earlier in the kitchen I recalled saying to
the kids, “I bet something got hit by lightning; look out the window to see if
it hit one of our trees.” Although I
said it, I did not know at the time that the words would ring true.
After a series of panicked phone calls to 911, the couple
who lives across the street (who happened to be out of town), and to Ben, we raced over
to the home to find the worst possible scenario. Blazes leapt from the windows, licking up the
home faster than we could imagine. As
the rain soaked our tomato covered clothing, the beautiful home burned. Volunteer firemen arrived quickly, suiting up
and uncoiling hoses in quick fashion.
Decked out in firemen garb, they entered the home, blasting water at the
growing fire. We backed away from the
scene as Georgia-Lee cried and begged not to watch. Neighbors gathered, wanting to help but
finding nothing could be done. We
retreated to our porch, watching the scene unfold from a safer distance.
In spite of the rain pouring down, the fire continued to burn.
Power was restored a couple of hours later. We processed our jars of tomatoes (lots of
effort for four measly jars). The
dedicated team of volunteers continued to fight the fire, ensuring the flames
did not go further from the home into the surrounding woods. The sweet couple across the street had not
yet returned home. Just before dark,
they arrived, having driven 200 miles from an anniversary get-away.
Georgia-Lee declared at the end of our day that the canning
website was correct – we would always remember canning tomatoes together as a
family, but unfortunately we would also remember it as the fateful day our
neighbors lost their home. For the rest of the evening, Ben murmured statements like "There's nothing permanent in this old world," as he shook his head, thinking what a loss, what a shame. We all were reminded that although we may try to can tomatoes, preserving the goodness of summer for a future time, we must remember to "Store up our treasures in Heaven," as the Bible says in Matthew 6:20. I know these words, and others from the Bible, will be a source of comfort for our neighbors, who as Christian people, lean on God during both the bad and good times.
