We have two Heirloom Pear Trees planted on our Farm, New O’Hana Farm, TN. The story goes, and told by my mom…someone from another country made their home here in Tennessee. Before they left, they made sure to save their Pear Seeds. They could replant them, having not only Fresh Pears, but, a reminder of a part of their life back home.
The Pears are ripe and hitting the ground with force. Do not stand under them! Yesterday, the weather was cooler, so I headed out with a bucket of water, a knife, and a cutting board. Gloves on, I picked Pears from the ground. I wore the gloves because Red Wasps love them. Using the knife, I took off the bruised parts.
My mom looked all through her Recipes. Unable to find the one she made when I was a little girl, she found this one: http://thespruceeats.com/countryside-pear-jam-recipe It was wonderful, and filled our home with a Holiday Scent!
This one in the photo below is not the Recipe she was hoping to find as it does not call for Heirloom Pears, and adds in pineapple and cherries. The search is still on. But, a trip to the store will be a definite to purchase Pectin because it will be required to make her recipe!
Her old Recipe Books are so delicate. The pages feel like they could crumble at any moment. I have seen people on tv pick up an old book, gently cradling the spine, almost fearful to turn the pages. That’s how I felt this morning when I retrieved Tried Recipes for the Bride. The book belonged to her mother and was published in 1923-1924. I know if my mom loves a dessert or meal, she writes it out and tucks it in one of her special books. The first book I chose, I found these folded pages-Paradise Jam. The hunt is on for her other Pear Recipe. A large stack of old books sit on the kitchen counter for her to look through.
Those old trees out on our farm have plenty of Pears, and my mouth is watering for Pear Muffins, Pies, Cakes, and Sauce! Must go and look through these recipe books. Farm Life is Amazing! Happy Autumn :)Jen
P.S. We served the Pear Jam warm, in one of my Great Grandma’s dishes, with mom’s Homemade Bread, and Ritz Crackers. Our daughters have put in their request for their own “Pear Jam, Please”, to take home!
To read a book and feel like you are right there is an amazing feeling!
Books with such detail of scenery, colors of the sky, food being prepared, nature, restaurants, cathedrals really help to make me feel as if I walked there myself. In the home, along the creek, through the woods….
My regular Autumn or Fall reads are still in the mixture. But, this year, my sister-in-law an I started a book club together. We can read at our own pace, and talk in between the pages to find out how far we are in the story. We discuss if we are enjoying the author’s writing style, and how we are pulled in to the characters lives. This encourages us to read and read and read!
We have read:
The holidays and the change of season make me want to find us a few great Christmas books to read! Suggestions are Welcome :)Jen Have a beautiful day!
“Have regular hours for work and play;make each day both useful and pleasant, and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well. Then youth will be delightful, old age will bring few regrets, and life will become a beautiful success.” By Louisa May Alcott.
“I like good strong words that mean something…” By Louisa May Alcott.
A LONG FATAL LOVE CHASE & THE LITTLE WOMEN LETTERS
These two books have been seen sitting on my desk, beside my bed, and on several tables in our family room. I have picked them up several times, to set them back down. I whisper lies that I promise to read them later!
Great Reasons Why Not To Read:
“He Who Believes Is Strong; He Who Doubts Is Weak. Strong Convictions Precede Great Actions.” By Louisa May Alcott
Everything Can Be Done:
I look forward to the hard work & fun time with family on the farm because I know we are very blessed. I look forward to carving out time through the day and night to write and read. I look forward to the future whatever it may bring. :)Jen
Tomato Kale Soup to warm the body and soul.
In your Small Skillet, on medium heat, melt your Butter in the Olive Oil. Add the diced or chunked Garlic. As the Garlic softens, and it smells so good, you can add your Kidney & Liver. Top with the Ground Peppercorn. Cook until the meat is tender and done.
*Large Soup Pot*
Bake Biscuits or Eat with Crackers. We enjoyed our Tomato Kale Soup with Cornbread!
We should write, you said, of beauty and nature. What we see when we step outside so we will know each other’s surroundings. The mountain is to the east with almost as tall hills connected to the left and right. On perfect mornings the sun peeks over the mountain and shines brilliantly. The smoky fog retreats to the broad creek that tapers and lies at their feet. A great white beast with large cat ears and a long fluffy tail walks among the trees by the creek and in to the field. If a neighbor see’s it, they say nothing to me. I see birds swooping through the air. The sun blazing behind dark clouds. Trees bare in the winter. Exposed is all their strength. Tall grass turned in to burrows for the large country rabbit to sleep.
Lone, old, coyote, dejected and down, retracing his weary steps. Deer on that path are aware. Raccoons ever present, eating persimmons high in the sky. Invisible is the wind, moving dead leaves in a rhythmic pattern.
Bees move about in a daze, as winter receives several strange warm days. Lightning streaks the night in all its brilliant work. Days and a night the rain will pour. After the storm, the groundhog comes out from below, stands on his hind legs and smells the air. A slight sound and he quickly retreats.
The soil sits waiting to be dug up or to proudly display its sleeping bulbs. Brown leaves not mulched, lay scattered about. Dark days make me want to weep. But, that is when I listen for the birds to sing, as I walk to the mailbox anticipating your letter.
Her left hand lifts
the white dandelion
to her mouth.
She blows air slowly from her lips.
her whisper floats down
with soft feathered seeds.
Momma’s in the shower, so I’m going to lay on her bed. 💤 Snoring and my tongue out!
I love to read books that describe where people live that is not like my surroundings. The landscape, and weather. What did they do for a living and if they walked there? Where did they eat? What did they wear?
A different time period is intriguing. We have so many niceties, new technology that they did not even know could be possible. But we still work, eat, socialize, raise a family, have friends, have hobbies, and get around that we read about them doing. We may have faster ways of getting something sent to someone, like an email, and a text, but we can still sit down and write a letter.
In the book, Becoming Mrs. Lewis by Patti Callahan, Joy Davidman and C. S. Lewis began a sweet bond from letter writing. They had never met before the letters began, and they still developed a special friendship and love. Her letters began when Joy and her husband, Bill, had spiritual questions. They began to write to C. S. Lewis, later known to Joy, as Jack.
In between the letters back and forth to Jack, Joy struggles to heal her marriage to an alcoholic, and philanderer, and to stay healthy. She works hard at raising their two boys, tries to picture them holding on to their farm they had always wanted. She is physically exhausted and not a well woman when she makes a decision to travel alone to England to not only heal, but find inspiration for her writings.
Once in England, I enjoyed the chapters on places she visited. Her first time to finally meet her dear friend, Jack, (C. S. Lewis)
The London public library, and it’s description, made me try to picture sitting inside reading a book. The London Zoo, which makes me think of a story she told at the beginning of the book of Joy and her brother.
Chapels. Cathedrals. Where bombs had struck during WWII. Oxford and Magdalen College. Taverns. The Eagle and Child for a drink with Jack and his brother, Warnie.
Blackwell’s Bookshop to think and write. I felt like I was with her and I began to understand and appreciate her beautiful sonnets. They were now full of hope and love. Jack and Warnie’s home, The Kilns. In my mind, I was picturing C. S. Lewis getting his inspiration for The Chronicles of Narnia. The little one’s that really did stay at his home, exploring the house, grounds, gardens, and pond.
The end of the book has not been read. I just can’t do it. I have already put my request in for more time on my loan from the library. One week, and I am nearing that mark, but I might just return the book. I might just picture Jack, Joy, and the boys, happy, playing outdoors and sitting in their home writing more stories for us to enjoy.