As Daddies garden was harvested Mama canned veggies. When I was old enough I was recruited to help and learn. The hardest thing was the corn. We canned it on the Cob cut off the Cob, cream style and whole kernel. No freezer then.
Canning corn was an all day job sometimes stretching in to several days according to how much there is. I would trudge out to the garden behind Mama who was carrying a number 10 wash tub. Norman was helping as soon as he could reach up in those tall stalks and pull the ears. When the tub was full we carried it back to the house and put it under the shade of the walnut trees. I can remember my side of the tub would drag on the ground sometimes. My shorter arms pulled down on Mama I'm sure.
Next was shucking, washing, and put in pans to blanch. Lots of water was drawn from the well as we worked. Next pack it in jars and pack is the word. No air space or it would all rise to the top. A bit of water and a teaspoon of salt per quart was put in the jar with the corn then a table knife was pushed down around the edges to let the air out before the hot lids and rings were put on. A jar with air left in could burst in the canner.
Mama only had one old canner so the watch and wait started now. The pressure gage was set for 10# pressure and corn had to be processed for 90 minutes. It had to be watched closely and the burner adjusted so the pressure wouldn't rise to the red danger zone. Pressure cookers now are much easier and don't require as much watching but the old kind were dangerous in non-experienced hands. When the time was up the pressure had to be let off slowly before the lid was taken off and the jars removed. That process was repeated over and over in that hot kitchen. No AC then.
After all the corn was canned that Mama deemed enough there was lots still on the stalks. This was allowed to dry and then the next task started. I was in on that also. For that I worked with Daddy.
He had a big barrel of some kind and the corn was taken off the Cob and put in the barrel. This was a slow and difficult process which was hard on the hands. Daddy wore gloves but I never could work with gloves. The cob was picked up and rubbed back and forth in your hand until all the corn was removed and in the barrel. This corn was fed to chickens, hogs, and horses. It was crunchy and I was known to chew a few pieces myself.
Corn was corn and there wasn't but one kind planted. Daddy called it field corn and we ate the same kind the animals did. As far as I know there was no fancy corn then. If there was we didn't have it and what we had tasted fine to me.
By the end of the harvest Mama had the fruit closet on the back porch full of all kinds of veggies, fruit, and sometimes some pork from the hog. You can't tell me that the stuff you buy in the store is just as good. No it does not even compare. I canned food up until a few years ago and I gave it up for not being physically able. I miss the great times of canning beside Mama and planting with Daddy. I didn't mind the dirt under my fingernails or the sweat in the hot kitchen. I learned and did on my own later. Would I go back to those more simple times? In a heartbeat. Yes I enjoy all my modern conveniences like AC but I miss the past with all my family and those carefree summer days of my youth. Don't we all?
