My mother and I used to get up at the crack of dawn on Labor day weekend, and go to the farmer's market for a bushel of local tomatoes, which we would can over the weekend. I remember by the end of the 3 days hating all things tomato. The smell that permeated everything. The seeds that stuck to everything. I'd lose my enthusiasm for canning about half way through. There would be a lot of laughing, and inevitably be an argument, usually stemming from my lost enthusiasm for the project, which was often my idea!

It was always worth the effort! We'd have tomato sauce all winter. She used it in lots of recipes-- pasta, pizza, stuffed cabbage and peppers, in soups. We never got tired of the finished product. There's nothing more beautiful than a Ball jar of tomatoes.

I don't dare attempt to do it myself. She was the key to getting it done. I miss her and her cooking. She also gardened, so there were lots of good things to eat. She could make a half sour pickle, too!