A Devoted Repurposer

I actually bought 12 canning jars this year and then found out that most of my family has canning jars. My mom in her basement, my aunt in her barn, and my uncle in his barn. So each trip to Prospect I get a few more.

 I took a walk down memory lane last Friday. I haven't been in my grandfather's (now uncle's) barn for years.  But it is a place of fond memories.  I share many of the stories from the farm with my boys. The story of Chocolate the cow (who I bottle fed), grandpa feeding the cats after dinner, playing in the empty chicken coop, riding on the manure spreader (only one time after extracting manure from my long locks), driving the truck in the pasture when our legs were two short and one sister operated the steering wheel while the other sister measured the gas and break (I will share this after they are 17 years old!), and the smell of the barn when there were cows, hay, and grain. There are many more stories and some of them came rushing back as we walked around the farm yard so different from my childhood, but still rich with memories.
 I guess it has been about 15 years or more since there were cows in the barn. My uncle said he moved the canning jars out about 10 years ago. But as I raked through buckets of canning jars among old straw and barn dust it seemed like yesterday that I was there. I remember taking my grandfather's soft hand and walking across the drive to the barn.  We would walk into the old milking area and fill a bucket with the feed from a big trough.  The smell of the grain is permanently present in my memories.  He then carried it into the larger part of the barn and fed the cows grain before climbing into the hay mow and tossing down a few bails.
So here I found myself, in a sea of dirty canning jars, in a space filled with memories. What does a sentimental repurposer do? Set limits, evaluate how much space you really have in the car, imagine the look on your father and husband's face when they see them, form a plan to clean them before the previous mentioned ever sees them, and last choose the most likely subjects to become clean and therefore enjoyed.

My early afternoon was filled with memories.  My late afternoon filled with scrubbing, Clorox, carrying buckets of hot water from my father's basement, and a few impatient family members wondering if I would be finished by dinner...

The jars after they were removed from the Barn at my Uncle's.

The jars on their trip to my house. The lidded jars were cleaned on a previous trip.

In my sink.

Ready to be my new granola or oat container.

These are the "new jars"  I have used for dry goods. They will become canning jars again.  My vintage jars will be used for these.

Oh, but it was well worth it!  They came clean and will be used for many more years.

I went on this canning jar expedition with the intent to have enough canning jars to donate applesauce in some.  I will use the jars that have been well stored in my pantry, my mother's basement, or by my Aunt for this purpose.  I will keep the ones I worked so hard to scour clean.  When I use them I will think of my grandparents, my uncle, and the farm of my childhood.