Mason Jars = My grandparents. And their basement and their gas stove down there at full blaze as they canned. Boiled jars. Canned. Boiled more jars. And canned more. Tomatoes, of course. Hot, spiced pickled mix of cauliflower... that I never acquired a taste for. They had a HUGE garden - so it was months of work down there. Fresh peaches and pears. Fresh peach and ,strawberry jelly. OMG I would kill for a big spoon on fresh bread right now. Of course, Gramma sealed with jelly with wax, and it was scary stuff to see her scoop off some mold, when not sealed right and enjoy the rest.
They had a cool, dark fruit cellar under the stairs, complete with a damp fabric curtain and dim light - it was a scary journey being asked to grab a jar of tomatoes or sauce. And even scarier when they passed away and the deepest contents were deemed more likely science experiments.
Unable to part with the jars and the memories, my cousins and I took them all. One of my cousins makes homemade salsa - I imagine he uses his the most. I've heard another cousin's hubby moan at the thought of moving her jars! I mean we aren't taking about one or two found at a flea market- I have at least 2-3 full totes of regular size, and probably 30-40 of the big ones boxed up. Sadly, most are in storage as this condo cottage doesn't allow space for them. It is ironic that they were packed up and sent to storage by my STBX (soon to be ex!) :) He had to move them again, lol!
I love to use them for storing buttons, beads, baubles. Kitchen staples... And this winter, we planted little bits of spring in them. The wire top ones with the glass lids are my personal favorites - and offer the perfect visual for the bulbs and their delicate roots entwined in the layers of gravel and soil. My grandparents also had a nursery and green houses. They would love that I've discovered a green thumb even in my little yardless home.