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I think my neighbor tried to make a country woman out of cityperson me. When strawberries ripened in fields not far away she mentioned jam. But I'd learned of mosquitoes and being there at seven ``to get the best.'' Produce on the farmstands grew big and bright. Her tales were of family storaging before electric 'fridge/freezer but the summer grew wan with my excuses.

Finally she informed me that if I would just buy jar rings and tomatoes we'd can them in her kitchen.

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I dropped off a basket of the last of the season on my way home. Arrived next morning to sparkling jars slippery peeled tomatoes simmering kettle.

We chatted while her canner burbled on the stove. Soon red/yellow globes encased in glass were beautiful on my shelves.

With this small triumph behind her Lois packed up and moved to town.

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