Every summer, after spending time at Grandma's, Erik and Nate would come home and rave about her peaches and eating an entire bottle in one sitting.
I grew up on bottled peaches and pears, and I guess I just remember the hours spent canning, in a hot kitchen, and didn't really have that desire to continue in my mother's legacy . . . until this year.
I decided if my kids love Grandma's peaches that much then maybe I should indulge them and can a few bottles for them.
I bought a bushel of peaches, ate a few raw ones, and made my annual peach pie. With the help of my brother-in-law, Jacob, I now have 11 quarts of peaches sitting on my counter. And you know what? The process wasn't anything like I remember growing up. I actually enjoyed myself and plan on doing more.
But what I enjoyed the most was the smell of sweetness that permeated the air when the peaches were processing in the canner. It brought back a flood of memories from my childhood. I had forgotten that smell until last night, and I'm hoping I've captured a little of it in each bottle.
