Nectarine Jam Day

This weeks prompt: Who taught you to work? What would you want your children and grandchildren to learn from their example?

My mother, Roberta Larsen Cordon, taught me to work. Oh boy, oh boy did she teach me to work! Assisted by my father, of course.

Here are a few of the lessons I learned from my mother that serve me today:

1) Set a routine and clear expectations. And start the day by making your bed.
Mom expected all of us kids to do our part in the home. In the mornings we were to make our bed, pick up our rooms, and do one additional chore before school. After school we each had an assignment to help with the daily family meal -- Four kids, four discreet tasks. Set the table or empty the dishwasher before dinner; clear the table or fill the dishwasher after dinner. These chores rotated weekly and were defined on a color-coded chart taped to our refrigerator. Shelly was red, Scot was green, Derek was yellow and I was blue. Before I learned to read Mom would draw pictures on my chore chart.

When I was very young -- and very short-- I set the table each evening. Mom organized the kitchen cabinets so the dishes were down low where a Kindergartner could reach them. She made a diagram of a place-setting to help me. She was always and forever a teacher. I would carry the picture around the kitchen table with me as I placed each plate, cup, fork and knife.

On Saturdays Mom would write out a personalized chore list for each of us. We weren't allowed to play with friends or do fun stuff until we'd finished. One chore she seemed to give me a lot was pick up the garbage in front of our house.

Once when I was 8 years old I was writing a story at school when I got a call to come to the office. "Your mother needs you to go home." We lived across from the school, so I skipped on home. Mom was waiting for me, a stern look on her face. She told me I had left the house that morning without making my bed or emptying the dishwasher. In fact, I had done this on several mornings recently. Not acceptable. Mom told me I could go back to school when my chores were finished. I did them! After that, I was more regular about morning chores.

2) Use your whole team 

There were special days unique to the Cordon household, in which Mom would corral us kids to work together. Walnut Day. Nectarine Jam Day. Fruitcake Day.

In the late fall our walnut tree would drop its fruit. Seems like the ground was always wet, fresh from rain, when we'd put on our jackets and go out to pick up the nuts. The nuts required husking. Sometimes the husks were green and easy to peel, but often they were dried and shriveled on the outside and filled with black slime. The black goo could stain your hands for weeks and I didn't care for it, but Mom made us all help. After rinsing the nuts we'd place them on wire screens to dry. A few weeks later, Mom would sit us around the table to crack the walnuts and pick out the meat. We always had delicious walnuts for baking treats to give to people.The walnuts were resource Mom used to reach out to others.

3) Do your work even when you don't want to. You will enjoy the fruits of your labor.

Nectarine Jam Day happened in the summer when the tree in our front yard would start dropping nectarines. Mom would wake us all up early and set us around the kitchen table to peel, pit and slice the nectarines. (Many years later Shelly and I learned that you don't have to peel nectarines for jam. But Mom was ignorant to that).
Mom would scald the fruit by immersing it hot water for a few minutes. Then she'd pour out the water and give us the nectarines to peel. Once we had prepared the fruit she would take it from there. She rushed about the kitchen on overdrive, mixing and canning the jam, her face sweaty, her hair messy, cursing under her breath occasionally. Unfortunately, she moved so frantically that she'd inevitably burn herself with the hot water or hot jam.

On one Nectarine Jam Day none of the jars sealed. I watched her test every lid, and as each one came loose she'd jerk her head and mutter "damn" over and over again.

Years later on another Nectarine Jam Day, Shelly would overhear Mom say, "I hate to can." This was a revelation. Well, why did she put all of us through it, if she hated it? Several reasons come to mind. First, it was what she knew as a farm girl from Idaho. Put up your produce. Second, she did didn't like waste, and the fruit would rot if not processed. Third, she wanted to teach her children the values of hard work and self-reliance. Fourth, she could look beyond her present discomfort to the future -- jam-filled pantries, ready to eat or be given away. Fifth, she was wanted to be obedient to the counsel of LDS prophets who preached about growing and storing your own food.

4) Your work blesses others. Oh, and don't sleep in when there's work to do

Fruitcake Day would typically begin around 6:30am on the first or second day of Christmas break. We kids would be awakened by a shout down the hall. "I NEED SOME HELP!" Eventually we'd all drowsily shuffle into the kitchen. She'd make us a breakfast of eggs fried in bacon grease. Then mom would get out the containers of candied cherries and some of the walnuts we hadn't been able to crack in the fall. The red and green candied cherries all had to be cut in half for the fruitcake, and the nuts had to be chopped itsy bitsy. Cups and cups of this stuff. Like two thousand cups of nuts, it seemed it. Mom and Shelly would mix up the batter, pour it in the loaf pans and bake.

Every time I hear jokes about nobody liking Christmas fruitcake, I get quiet. You didn't dare dislike Mom's fruitcake.

Making Christmas treats was one of the ways my mother kept Christ in her Christmas. The fruitcakes were for friends and neighbors. She had a big list. For a few years I served as fruitcake messenger to all of the neighbors.

But much of Mom's planned fruitcake deliveries could not be accomplished on foot. There was our cleaning lady Vera, our gardener Mr. Kamioka, some single sisters from church who Mom regularly checked in on, and some larger families. Some of these people were close friends, but others she didn't know well; she just wanted to include them. She avoided bringing the treats to church to pass out, instead preferring doorstep delivery. Most often the recipients would invite us inside to visit, so the fruitcake delivery took several hours.

Mom's tenacity about Christmas treats highlights one of Mom's signature virtues: She noticed individuals, perhaps those who might feel left out or forgotten. She put a lot of energy into it. That's why she was admired by so many people.


Coming up in Part 2: What I learned from my father and others about working.