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What do you do when the lawn–such as it is–is continually littered with apples of various sizes, shapes, and colors? After picking them up repeatedly only to have them reappear more numerous than before, it was time to marshal the troops for the purpose of rediscovering the apple press. Ours was recently uncovered as part of a barn repair and reorganization project. My youngest son John along with his friends have been investing time and energy collecting, grinding, and pressing what seems like bushels of apples. A slow trickle quickly changes to a steady stream of juice as the containers fill with sweet, delicious, amber liquid that is full of summertime.
Many years have passed since it was last used, but it still works well and with the bumper crop of apples the juice has been making its way into my kitchen, which began the project of canning. I am in awe of my mom and the enormous amount of late summer and early fall labor she put into preserving food for the winter. With the arrival of first frost looming before her, she labored to store as much as possible always mindful not to waste anything. I have canned little compared to her and I am tired. I can only imagine how exhausted she was at summer’s end. As I reflect on how my mom would toil in preparation for winter, I am thankful for the bounty and the opportunity to preserve a bit of summer in the form of golden juice that will be enjoyed throughout the cloudy, grey, wet days of winter.
