Heaton Harvest Day

One of the things Adam and I looked forward to the most about having our own house one day, was that we'd be able to have our own garden. This year was our third year of trying out our green thumbs and it was the best year so far. My job was to tell Adam what plants I wanted in the garden and help with the actual planting. Adams job was, well, every thing else. He made the boxes for our "square foot garden" layout, watered, weeded, fertilized, picked most of the veggies etc. He did a great job. (The fact that the previous home owners had worked with the soil for 7 or 8 years before we moved in obviously helps. Most people have a difficult time trying to get anything to grow out here because the dirt is so bad.)
So the day before the first hard frost of the season, the kids and I spent the morning harvesting Adams hard work.





Then we had to wash every thing. I scrubbed the bath tub with bleach, filled it with water, threw the lot in, and Hailey and Maggie scrubbed vegetables for an hour.






Then we thought it would be fun to have a "harvest lunch". We had corn, squash, beets, carrots and cucumbers. It was fun to enjoy the "fruits of our labors" (excuse the pun) and Hailey said, "I'm proud of our garden". It was exciting to hear her take pride in our work.




The next day, while the temperature was dropping 35 degrees and the rain was coming down in sheets, I became a "real woman" for the first time. That's right, I canned my own vegetables, all by my self. The kids washed and chopped and stirred with me, and we produced these



fourteen beautiful pints of homemade salsa.

This may not be at all impressive to those of you who can food all the time or grew up canning. You'd have to know how I used to be to really appreciate what a step this was for me. My mother canned food and sewed and quilted and, bless her heart, tried to teach me to do those things as well, but I would not be taught. I was of the opinion that women who canned food, sewed clothes and drove mini vans (I have a mini van) were old fashioned and totally un-cool. Well, I've officially crossed the line into "un-cool", and.... I like it. I feel mature and more accomplished and as I'm approaching my 30th birthday, feel like I'm finally growing into myself. I find my self no longer trying to dress like a teenager or listen to "cool" music. I'd rather be a, woman (even if my bra size more closely resembles a pre-teen).

I guess this is what growing up feels like.