My kid home was off the black top road and down a lane about 100 yards. Along the north side of that lane were feed bunks for some massive corrals and the south side was a row of pear trees. This time of year the corrals were full of cattle and the scents of warm steers, hay, and silage were what I smelled walking the lane. The ditches and borrow pits along the county road will be drifted full of snow and the cold biting wind will whistle out of the west and down that lane. It was a great life but when the snow started to give way to mud, and the crocus started to push through the snow, the world changed. The big old smooth barked cherry was the first to bloom, and about a week lather the pears would blossom and fill the air with a heady, syrupy aroma that was most enjoyable. The apples came on about a week later. We’d pray for no frost and a bounty of fruit which mom would can in 2-quart jars to preserve them for later. I haven’t seen a two quart jar in years but they once were common when families did more home canning and had more children. But those pear blossoms! This soap takes me there. It takes me to the first days of spring when I’d head out to chore without a heavy coat. It’s sunshine on my shoulders. It’s earth awakening after the deep freeze.
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