View from my Pantry-- The Western Wall
Tonight I begged out of a sweet family trip to Milbank, SD to see Madagascar II. Instead I walked west into the sunset and gave thanks for the big sky- purple, pink, blue, with all sorts of swirls, rows, and wisps of clouds. The blazing sun sinking into the horizon like a Serengi sunset photo. The antidote for feeling worn out.
After putting in the chickens (surprisingly few eggs!) I came in to a glass of local sweet strawberry/grape wine (thank you Audrey!) and the urge to show you my pantry. What you see is garlic hanging from the rafters, canisters of black and white beans, and canned vegetables and apples.
I canned a modest amount of produce with a disproportionately large amount of time. Call it learning curve. Or perhaps just the amount of time needed to put up a bountiful summer's harvest. People used to spend hours each day tending, preparing, and eating food. Maybe I just experienced the reality of living closer to the land, where we count "food footsteps" rather than "food miles" (the distance one's food travels from where it is grown to where it is consumed).
This pantry is the concentration of a fruitful season of gardening and all its joys. I gained a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment with each sealed jar.
Now it is November and instead of adding more jars, they are coming down one-by-one. Where it once flowed, it now ebbs.