top of page
Search

Why August Makes Me Want to Put Everything in a Mason Jar 🌿

  • 3 days ago
  • 9 min read

Every year, somewhere around the beginning of August, something happens to me.


I start looking at ordinary household objects and thinking, You know what would make that better? A mason jar.


The sunflowers? Mason jar.


The iced tea? Mason jar.


The handful of blackberries that are definitely not enough to make a pie but feel far too precious to simply eat over the sink? Mason jar.


Buttons. Herbs. Leftover salad dressing. Wildflowers. Paintbrushes. Homemade jam. Lemon slices. Tiny tomatoes.


At some point, I am fairly certain I would put the television remote in a mason jar if I could find one tall enough.


There is just something about August that brings out this strange little instinct to gather, preserve, arrange, and tuck things away.


Maybe it is because August feels like summer’s pantry.


Everything is full.


The gardens are full. The farm stands are full. The trees are heavy and green. Tomatoes are piling up on kitchen counters. Peaches smell wonderful before you even get them out of the paper bag.


Herbs have completely forgotten the boundaries you gave them in May and are now attempting a small-scale takeover of the backyard.


Even the evenings feel full—full of cicadas, thunderstorms, golden light, and that unmistakable feeling that summer is beginning to lean ever so slightly toward fall.


And apparently my response to all of this abundance is:

Find a jar.

August Is the Month of “We Should Save Some of This”

June feels like summer is just getting started.


July is all bare feet, watermelon, fireworks, swimming pools, and forgetting what day of the week it is.


But August?


August feels different.


August makes you realize that summer will not last forever.


Not in a sad way. More in a maybe we should make one more pitcher of lemonade and sit outside tonight kind of way.


The tomatoes will eventually stop coming.


The basil will not always be trying to grow through the kitchen window.


There will come a day when peaches do not perfume the entire produce section.


The fireflies will disappear.


The sun will start setting earlier.


And suddenly you want to save things.


Not just food, either.


You want to save the feeling of it.


The blackberry-stained fingers.


The flowers from the roadside stand.


The sound of rain on a hot afternoon.


The smell of tomato vines on your hands.


The ridiculous zucchini someone happily handed you because their garden produced approximately 47 of them overnight.


August gives us that little nudge to enjoy what is plentiful while it is here.


And for some reason, nothing says I am lovingly attempting to hold onto summer quite like a row of glass jars on a kitchen counter.

The Mason Jar Has Somehow Become the Little Black Dress of Farmhouse Living

Is there anything a mason jar cannot do?

  • It is a drinking glass.

  • A vase.

  • A pantry container.

  • A pencil cup.

  • A leftover holder.

  • A candle holder.

  • A place for homemade dressing.

  • A container for dried herbs.

  • A gift jar.

  • A button jar.

  • A memory jar.

  • A centerpiece.

  • A vessel for iced coffee.

  • A tiny terrarium if you are ambitious.


And occasionally—just to keep everyone on their toes—we even use them for canning.


Part of their charm is that they are so wonderfully uncomplicated.


Glass. Lid. Done.


No complicated organizing system. No batteries. No app. No instruction manual.


You do not have to download anything.


You do not have to remember a password.


A mason jar has never once sent anyone a software update.


That alone may explain my loyalty.


There is also something beautifully old-fashioned about them. A shelf of glass jars filled with beans, dried herbs, pasta, buttons, or preserves feels connected to generations of homes where useful things were kept, reused, mended, preserved, and appreciated.


Not because anyone was trying to create an aesthetic.


They were simply using what they had.


And somehow, that practicality became beautiful.

August Flowers Belong in Jars

I will stand firmly behind this opinion.


August flowers do not need elaborate arrangements.


They are already doing plenty.


Sunflowers.


Zinnias.


Black-eyed Susans.


Cosmos.


Dahlias.


Wild Queen Anne’s lace.


A sprig of something pretty you cannot identify but responsibly gathered from your own yard.


Drop them into a mason jar with a little water and suddenly the kitchen looks like someone in a linen apron lives there and bakes bread every morning.


Even if the reality is that you reheated coffee twice and there is currently a grocery receipt stuck to your foot.


That is the beauty of a little jar of flowers.


It asks almost nothing from you but somehow makes the room feel happier.


Put one beside the kitchen sink.


One on the porch table.


One in the bathroom.


One beside your bed.


You do not need an enormous bouquet. Sometimes three cheerful stems are enough to make an ordinary corner feel cared for.


And that really is the kind of decorating I love most.


Simple.


Useful.


A little imperfect.


Picked from somewhere nearby.

Then There Is the Food...

August practically begs us to do something with produce.


You go to the farmers market for tomatoes and somehow return with cucumbers, peaches, peppers, corn, berries, three jars of local honey, a loaf of bread, and a watermelon you have absolutely no refrigerator space for.


Worth it.


This is the season of refrigerator pickles, homemade sauces, berry compotes, jams, infused waters, fresh salsas, dressings, and tiny kitchen experiments involving whatever happens to be abundant.


Even if you do not consider yourself a serious canner or food preserver, you can still enjoy that wonderfully satisfying feeling of putting seasonal food into jars.


Make a quick refrigerator jam.


Mix up a batch of overnight oats.


Layer yogurt with peaches and granola.


Make refrigerator pickles.


Shake together a simple vinaigrette.


Store chopped herbs.


Fill a jar with berries for tomorrow’s breakfast.


Make lemonade and add peach slices.


Suddenly your refrigerator looks like a tiny country kitchen storefront, and I am not saying that fixes everything in life, but it certainly does not hurt.


A Quick Little Canning Note

If you decide to venture beyond refrigerator recipes and actually preserve food for shelf storage, this is one area where old-fashioned charm should meet modern food-safety knowledge.


Use a current, research-tested canning recipe from a reliable source such as the USDA, the National Center for Home Food Preservation, or a university extension program rather than improvising processing methods or ingredient proportions. The National Center for Home Food


Preservation specifically recommends tested recipes because seemingly small recipe changes can affect whether a canned food is safe for shelf storage.


Cute jars are wonderful.


Botulism is not cottagecore.


We have standards.

The Refrigerator Pickle Era Is Especially Strong in August

There is a particular kind of optimism involved in growing cucumbers.


In May you think:

I hope we get enough for a salad.


In August:

Please. Somebody take these cucumbers.


This is where refrigerator pickles earn their place as one of summer's greatest small pleasures.


They are crunchy.


They are easy.


They make sandwiches more exciting.


And they give you somewhere to put the cucumbers that are multiplying on your counter while you sleep.


The same goes for quick-pickled onions, carrots, radishes, and other refrigerator-friendly vegetables.


There is something very satisfying about opening the refrigerator and seeing colorful jars lined up inside.


It feels resourceful.


It feels wholesome.


It feels suspiciously like you have your life together.


We do not need to examine that illusion too closely.

Mason Jar Drinks Simply Taste Better

I cannot provide scientific evidence for this.


I am choosing to believe it anyway.


Iced tea in an ordinary glass?


Fine.


Iced tea in a mason jar with lemon slices, lots of ice, and maybe a sprig of mint?

Summer experience.


The same applies to lemonade.


Iced coffee.


Fruit-infused water.


Sun tea.


Sparkling water with berries.


Peach tea.


Anything containing cucumber slices.


Pour it into a jar, walk outside, and suddenly you are not simply hydrating.

You are having a moment.


Bonus points if there is a porch involved.


Extra bonus points if you can hear cicadas.


Maximum points if the jar starts sweating little drops of condensation while you sit somewhere shady doing absolutely nothing productive.


That is August self-care.

Jars Are Also Excellent for Tiny Things That Need a Home

August often brings this strange urge to organize things before fall arrives.


Not full January-style organization where we pull everything out of a closet and briefly destroy the entire house.


I mean gentle organization.


One drawer.


One shelf.


One little corner.


And this is where jars become dangerously useful.


Try them for:

  • Buttons

  • Clothespins

  • Paintbrushes

  • Pens and pencils

  • Garden twine

  • Seed packets

  • Loose tea

  • Dried herbs

  • Cookie cutters

  • Sewing supplies

  • Tiny craft supplies

  • Matches

  • Bath salts

  • Cotton rounds

  • Spare change


There is something satisfying about being able to see what you have.


And unlike buying 37 matching plastic bins because the internet convinced you your pantry needs a branding strategy, using jars you already own can be delightfully simple.


A mismatched collection is even prettier sometimes.


Clear glass.


Old blue jars.


Different sizes.


Old lids.


A little handwritten label.


Nothing perfectly matching.


Everything useful.


That feels much more like home to me.

Make an August Memory Jar

This may be my favorite mason jar idea of all, because it preserves something much sweeter than tomatoes.


Keep an empty jar somewhere your family will see it.


Beside it, place a stack of little slips of paper.


Throughout August, write down tiny things you want to remember.


Nothing important enough for a scrapbook is required.


Actually, the smaller the better.


Things like:

We ate watermelon on the porch.

Saw three deer on the country road.

The first sunflower finally opened.

Kids caught fireflies after dinner.

Had peach cobbler while it was still warm.

Thunderstorm at 4:15.

The dog stole a hamburger bun.

Everyone stayed outside until dark.


At the end of the month, read them together.


Or tuck the jar away until winter.


Imagine opening it in January when the sky is gray and the garden is sleeping.


Suddenly August comes spilling back out.


That may be the best kind of preserving there is.

Put Summer Gifts in Jars, Too

Mason jars also make wonderfully easy little gifts.


Not formal gifts.


The best kind.


The I had extra and thought of you kind.


Fill one with homemade granola.


Fresh flowers.


Cookies.


Garden herbs.


A refrigerator treat.


Tea bags and dried lemon slices.


A little baking mix.


Even a handful of pretty pens for someone who loves stationery.


Tie on a piece of twine or ribbon and add a handwritten tag.


Done.


There is something lovely about giving food or flowers from your own kitchen or garden without turning it into a production.


No fancy packaging required.


No perfect bow.


Just:

Here. I made too much jam and I like you.


Possibly the purest form of friendship.

August Is Really About Abundance

Maybe that is why mason jars feel so right this time of year.


August is abundant.


Sometimes almost comically so.


The garden suddenly gives you more tomatoes than any reasonable household could consume.


The roadside stands are overflowing.


Flowers spill over fences.


Herbs grow wild.


Sunsets stretch across the sky.


Summer seems to be giving us everything it has before the season begins to change.


And our instinct is to gather some of it.


Save it.


Share it.


Bring it inside.


Put flowers on the table.


Make something from the garden.


Carry peaches to a neighbor.


Freeze the berries.


Write down the memory.


Fill the jar.


Maybe preserving is not only about preparing for winter.


Maybe it is also a way of saying:


This was good. I noticed. I want to remember.

A Sweet Little August Mason Jar List

If August has you feeling similarly jar-obsessed, here are a few simple ideas to try:

  • Pick garden flowers and make tiny arrangements

  • Make refrigerator pickles

  • Mix homemade salad dressing

  • Fill jars with iced tea or lemonade

  • Store fresh herbs

  • Make a small batch of jam

  • Layer overnight oats for breakfast

  • Organize buttons, craft supplies, or pens

  • Start an August memory jar

  • Fill jars with pantry staples

  • Give a neighbor flowers from the garden

  • Make peach or berry parfaits

  • Collect seeds for next year's garden

  • Use a jar for paintbrushes or garden twine

  • Make a simple homemade gift

  • Save little notes from your favorite summer days


Do one.


Do six.


Do absolutely none and simply put daisies in a jelly jar.


This is not a mason jar achievement program.

Save a Little Bit of Summer

August always feels like standing in the doorway between two seasons.


Summer is still here—hot, green, buzzing, blooming—but somewhere underneath it, you can feel the faintest whisper of fall.


Maybe that is why this month makes me want to gather things.


The tomatoes.


The herbs.


The flowers.


The berries.


The recipes.


The little memories.


The ordinary sweetness of a season that will soon begin slipping away.


We cannot actually put August in a mason jar.


Believe me, I would if I could.


But we can save a few tomatoes.


We can dry some herbs.


We can put wildflowers on the kitchen table.


We can write down the funny thing someone said after dinner.


We can share a jar of something homemade with someone we love.


And we can notice all this abundance while it is still right here in front of us.


Because sometimes simple living is not about doing less just for the sake of doing less.


It is about paying enough attention to know what is worth keeping.


And in August?


Apparently, I would like to keep everything.


Preferably in a mason jar. 🌿

 
 
 

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page