Save your jars. I imagine this is a post that bears no repeating.
I’m not quite sure if it’s the poor girl raised by teenage parents inside me, or if it is something I watched my grandmother do diligently on our ranch, but I have a massive commitment to saving jars. To the point where it becomes a game to see what magical little superfood, herb, seaweed, legumes, ancient grains, remedies, rubber bands (another saving habit inherited from my grandmother), will find their perfectly sized cozy space to house them until they’ve eventually been used down to the very last small bit.
Upon finishing the last drop of honey, last scrape of coconut oil, last dollop of ghee—even the last finger scoop of shea butter—off the label will go, cleaned it will endure, and onto our shelf, specifically dedicated to empty jars, it will live until a bone broth, smoothie or fermented vegetables find their potent way into it. For this habit, I am remarkable grateful—to whomever may have instilled it in me.
From a design perspective, I couldn’t feel more inspired by the mismatched jar village that stands bold, re-loved, and ready to serve for years to come in my small little kitchen.
And sometimes, even sometimes, these well-kept jars find their way into the hands of someone I love where they will relocate, nourish another, and continue their cycle of reusable glory all over again.
Reuse. Recycle. Reduce—cringe, I said it.