1940 Canned Apple Butter: Family Root Cellar

I loved exploration as a child.  From opening the door and going down the stairs to get something from my Grandma's root cellar or exploring old homesteads while checking cows.  I credit my Mom with teaching us to appreciate those things that represented the people who had gone before us.

When I moved with my husband and boys to a house on the family ranch-I began exploring immediately.  This was the house my Aunt and Uncle lived in during my childhood.  My Grandparents had lived there and many other families dating back to 1900 when it was built.  

With two little boys in tow, I made my way to the root cellar and found a treasure cove.  Old text books belonging to the original family who had been a teacher, the original medicine cupboard, tools, trash and memorabilia.  

I felt like an archeologist sifting through layers of debris representing generations and culture.  And I was. 

I hauled truckloads of trash to the dump (some complaining about who would keep all this stuff) while at the same time celebrating the treasure with family and learning more about the people who built the house.

Finally, I made it to the ultimate prize...the shelves of canned goods that a wise woman had preserved for her family and leaving for posterity.  

Gingerly pulling the large blue mason jar from the shelf and wiping off years of dust and grime...I was amazed to find a jar of apple butter canned in 1940.  Varying dates of jars lined the shelves with pickles, jams, and vegetables.  

With the voice of my mother in my ear...I honored the hard work and preparation of this woman whom I didn't know.  Feeling a sense of awe as if entering a sacred place.  

A place where this woman poured her life's energy and love into.  Where she stood against the rages of the Great Depression or other challenges by keeping her family fed.

As I put in my garden that year...and the hail came and the grasshoppers attacked...I thought about the wisdom of the jar of apple butter in the cellar of my house.  That winter found bull-dozers bringing canned meat that my Mom had put away so that the blizzards of that winter didn't leave us without....

A stark reminder of individual and community responsibility and interdependence.  

A timely reminder to us who have become used to convenience and comfort and reliance on others that lesson passed on to us in old blue jars of apple butter.  

The skills of pioneering, homesteading and survival were those of vision, prudence and deep sense of responsibility to the family, home and community.  

I think it is time to revive this way of thinking in our world.