Amber Johnson is our 2024 Homesteader in Residence. Her writing is an invitation to embrace the simple but meaningful moments of homesteading life, and I always feel like I've just enjoyed a cup of tea with a kindred spirit after reading one of her posts.
Hope you enjoy this February installment from her as much as I do, and if you missed January, you can find that here. Cheers! ~ Anna
As a little girl I had a first hand glimpse at Homesteading in action. My babysitter, Nona, was an incredible woman that lived in an unsuspecting house on Main St in a small tourist town of North Conway, NH.
Behind her house, down a hidden hill, laid a magical, Secret Garden. There laid acres of golden corn, ripe red tomatoes, green beans, scarlet beets, orange carrots, and it was magical to go down and help gather all these hidden gems from the ground, to pluck a ripe tomatoe and pop it in our mouths as the juice and seeds squirt down our chins.
We would load up the back of the truck with buckets of vegetables, and she would drive it up the hill to the house. There we would wash the vegetables outside, and play in the puddles and dance in the rainbow laiden mist.
Nona baked her own bread religiously. Home made pizzas were a delight from all of us children. Her hands were always moving, creating, giving. We watched Nona slice, dice, chop and preserve all the vegetables into delicious meals, or preserved for another meal to come in the Winter months.
As time went by, our small family of three moved away to the city. Instead of the daily bread, Secret Gardens, and watching Nona work with her hands, I was now faced with the busy life of private school, boy bands and best friends spending days at the Mall. Instead of home made pizza, we had delivery pizza. In time I had forgotten about Nona and the magical kitchen. Life was fast paced, food was also fast. We were in the thick of the S.A.D (Standard American Diet) menu of fast meals. Life was busy.
Fast forward many years, and I'm a Mom now with beautiful babies of my own. One of my children developed an illness and couldn't keep food down for months. We visited doctor after doctor, which one Old Fashioned Doctor talked to me about diet and nutrition. We went to an Allergy Specialist and found my child was quite sensitive to a few foods. Corn being one of them. Soy, being another. As well as nuts and legumes.
All of a sudden I was faced with reading labels and making changes for my child's health and well being. I began to make my own jams, jellies, and pickles. Baking all our baked goods. Changing foods and seeking ways to create delicious and nutritional foods that my child could eat. It took some adjustments but we learned how to cook to their specific needs. I still had more to learn.
During this time of illness, I was pregnant with our 4th child. Soon came baby #5, and shortly thereafter came baby #6. We were living at Simpler Thyme Homestead as the babies came in quick succession. Between hauling water and boiling it to bathe babies, I felt so tired and taxed. I didn't seek to do as much canning or preserving outside of the seasonal jams and jellies. I knew I wanted to learn to pressure can, but I felt I needed to wait until I had more time and energy to devote to myself.
That desire laid dormant in my heart for 5 years. My husband bought me a pressure canner, and it sat in its box for years. I would rush past it in the pantry and mostly ignore it as I'd grab the ingredients I needed and hurried off, sometimes longingly glance at it, and promise myself "some day, just not today. "
A few months ago I decided I was going to learn how to pressure can. I watched YouTube videos and fought with the lid, and had some failures at first- from broken jars to lids come completely off in the process. But as I kept practicing I reminded myself the words I tell my growing babies, "Practice makes Progress." The joy I felt when my jars not only didn't break, but sealed was unmatched! I started buying all I could just to can it. Beans. Meat. I made raw packed stews.
A farm friend of mine invited me to glean from her beautiful tomatoe patch, and from there I dreamed of Spaghetti sauce. Pizza sauce. Salsa. I cooked and canned it all. I was having so much fun, and seeing my pantry fill up with beautiful Mason jars filled with a variety colors, just made my heart squeal with abundant joy.
Now, on a fast day, I can grab a jar off the shelf, and heat it up and serve my family a delicious stew, corned beef hash, vegetables, or Spaghetti with delicious sauce. When I bake I grab a jar of cherries to make a sauce for a chocolate cake, or peaches preserved in a vanilla bean syrup. Grab a jar of strawberry lemonade concentrate on a hot summers day. Pickles to go with a sandwich.
I know the ingredients, and I know the freshness of the foods. I can serve my family foods I know won't make them sick. I also know, like Nona, the hours and love poured into the making of these foods for my loved ones.
Maybe she knew she was planting seeds in our hearts, seeds that would lay dormant but would one day sprout to life in a new generation of Homesteaders. When I think of some of the most influential, inspirational people in my life that helped shape and mold me, I think of Nona. ♥️
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