This weekend we harvested the bounty of tomatoes our garden had put forth and started the canning process.  There is nothing like a beautiful, crisp day and the bounty of the garden to speak fall.  As in most parts of the Midwest, our gardens weren’t as plentiful as in past years, though we still managed to get more than a dozen jars from our small garden that my husband tends.   (We are already planning more plants for next year.)

Canned tomatoes remind me of my Grandmother.  She had the greenest thumb and could grow anything that required dirt, air, and sunlight.  She had the most beautiful flowers and perennials, but her vegetable garden was her glory.  (She was also a phenomenal cook, using everything from her garden, but more on that another time.)  We used to go into her garden as kids and just wander to see what was coming up next.  Eating fresh peas out of the pods while standing in the garden was one of our favorites.  My sister and I couldn’t wait until our birthdays when we would get a jar of our favorite all our own.  My sister’s was canned beets, mine was canned tomatoes.  I loved eating those delicious and sweet tomatoes like fruit sauce, a bowl-ful with a sprinkling of sugar on top.  Oh, I can taste it now…. of course the secret ingredient was what made it so special.  (Grama-Love)  Grandma isn’t here anymore, but every single time I see a jar of homemade canned tomatoes, I think of her and smile.  Here’s to you Grandma….