Sometimes Self-Reliance Looks Like a Kitchen Full of Tomatoes

Yesterday was supposed to be a blog-writing day.

Instead, I went out to the garden to pick tomatoes.

And then I came back inside with 9.6 pounds of them.

That was the most I've ever picked at one time, and there were still plenty of green tomatoes left on the plants.

So the blog post didn't get written.

The tomatoes won.

And honestly, I'm okay with that.

Because sometimes self-reliance doesn't look like sitting down with a notebook and learning a new skill.

Sometimes it looks like standing in the kitchen with tomatoes covering the counter, jars waiting to be filled, and realizing that all those hours spent planting, watering, weeding, and waiting have finally turned into something you can put away for later.

I spent the day canning those tomatoes so we can enjoy them long after the garden is finished for the year.

There's something very satisfying about it.

You're taking something you grew yourself and preserving it for a time when you won't have it fresh outside your door anymore.

It's the same reason I enjoy making herbal preparations.

Whether I'm drying an herb, making an infused oil, melting down beeswax, or putting up tomatoes from the garden, I'm learning how to take what I have and make it useful.

None of these things are particularly complicated.

But they are skills.

And the more of those skills we learn, the more capable we become.

I think that's one of the things I enjoy most about this slower way of living.

It isn't about doing everything yourself.

It's about learning what you can do—and actually doing it.

So yesterday's blog post became a day of picking tomatoes, canning, cleaning up the kitchen, and feeling pretty good about a pantry that is a little fuller than it was the day before.

And today, I'm back to the blog.

Sometimes that's just how life goes.

And that's okay, too.