Preserving

{Image from We ♥ it.}

She unpacks the box from the attic
and carefully arranges each delicate memory
on the shelves of the hutch that belonged to her mother.
A jar of jam with a dusty label, written the summer before she died.
A tiny love note in dramatic and lacy script...Blackberry, 1972.

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On Friday, I found out I was one of ten lucky winners of the Design*Sponge give away of Ashley English's new books Canning and Preserving and Keeping Chickens. There were almost 600 entries! I felt a little like The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio relying on a poem, but hey...I wanted those books! My entry:

Canning: A Poem

I used to turn my nose up to the relish my mom canned.
But now that snotty attitude has been completely banned.

The smell of jellies, jams and chutneys, simmer in my dreams.
I want to be an urban goddess, a fruit preserving queen.

I have a little garden—herbs, tomatoes, and the like.
But with a book to help me, I’d be absolutely psyched.

Look out friends and family, so improved your meals will be,
From the fancy canned goodies from apron-wearing me.

That's what did it.

Today, I called my dad to wish him a happy birthday and he told me about my mom unpacking boxes over the weekend at the new house they are moving to. The story made me cry for a minute. My grandma died when I was five and my mom was 24. For about the millionth time in my life, I thanked God for my mom and dad.