Mom “taught” me the joys of pressure canning in 1992. She was eighty-three. After driving sixty miles, I arrived early at her house and was greeted with the smell of meat cooking, the sound of the pressure cooker “hissing away” and her voice, saying, “Della, it’s about time you got here, I already have one canner on the stove and another one almost ready. We wouldn’t be done until midnight if I waited to start until you arrived!”
I gave her a hug, smiled and said, “I got here as quickly as I could.”
Our canning continued throughout the day and into the evening, stopping only for lunch. We boned the turkey meat, washed and sterilized jars, filled jars, and screwed the lids on tight. The processing time for meat is 75 minutes per batch and the pressure gauge must be closely watched to keep it in the normal range. The pressure cooker held 18 pint jars and in one day we filled it 3 times. We admired the fruits of our labor as finally we rested, played cards and kept close watch on the last cooker of the day. By bedtime that night, 54 pint jars of turkey sat cooling on the counter.
It had always been easier for Mom to do the canning, rather than be the teacher, but now she let me do the heavy lifting and watched closely as I prepared meat to fill the jars. I can still hear her voice as she said, “Della, I think this jar needs more meat or are you sure we only have thirty more minutes before the pressure cooker is done?” I wrote down directions, step-by-step, so when the time came, I could do the job myself.
The year she turned ninety and I fifty-seven, she made the decision to send her beloved pressure cooker home with me. For the next five years, I took small jars of whatever I canned to her and she always admired them as she had her own. But I could see the longing in her eyes and hear it in her voice when she said, “I wish I could help with the canning.”
“Yes, Mom it was more fun when we could do it together.”
We had finally found a common ground and enjoyed our time together. I realized how glad I was that she made that last move. I still use that 80-year-old pressure cooker to preserve food for my family and teach my own children and husband the joys of preserving food. Dumpster diving isn’t allowed anymore, but my granddaughter is already a pro looking for bargains at thrift stores and her mother is teaching her the art of canning. to be continued Hugs To All...OWAV:)
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