The Jars : "Ester"
Well, in an effort to blog more regularly I thought I would begin with introducing each of our jars. Knowing what to blog about is difficult, especially when you have a small economy tied to it. In society it seems to be about generating sales, but what if it were different? I am not sure what that means, "different", but I can imagine it would be sweeter and more genuine. Each jar represents a history. They were named after people in our lives that are close or people that lived a beautiful life before us.
"Ester"; our best seller and our first...
Who is Ester?
Ester was my great grandmother on my paternal side. My father always
would tell us stories about her; "when we were little, we thought she
was as mean as a rattle snake!" She really wasn't, she had a blunt
elegance about her, and wanted things to be done right, and with
justice. The reason we chose to name this jar after her is because it's
our best selling. It stands out, just as Ester always did.
 |
| Ester - 1920s |
My fondest memory, a little dark, but here it goes...
I
was living in Los Angeles, my dad in Dallas - we connected in
Brownsville, TX in the late summer to visit family. Already emotional at
16 years, and not seeing my dad in almost one year, this trip was an
emotional adventure.
My grandfather, Charlie, had been ill
for a long time and I knew it would probably be the last time I would
see him. From the airport we began in the hospital to see my grandmother
"Dolores"; she was holding her St. Anthony photo in one hand, Grandpa's
in the other, and praying desperately. Her cheeks were stained and her
eyes weary and exhausted.
The very next morning my dad
received a call from my grandma saying that he needed to hurry, "Charlie
isn't going to make it". I dressed quickly and fearfully; I kept
thinking "what does it mean to die" - I had never experienced death. In
the teal Geo Metro that we borrowed from my uncle we moved in silence. I
could see my dad, sorrow on his face, losing his step-dad, an
overwhelming reality.
On our way a phone call came, and I
could catch the high-pitched raspy voice: "Reeeechard, donde esta la
barbacoa?" That was Ester, my dad's grandmother. Ester was concerned; it
was Sunday, the only day you can get fresh "Barbacoa". At this point,
for ninety years, it was customary that you ate this for breakfast. The
catch, it is only available before noon. Putting in the metro, we found
the nearest "taqueria" and made sure carry on Ester's tradition, we bought the Barbacoa, even on the
gloomiest of days.
My husband and I have decided to name our first born girl "Ester".
It's
a beautiful name, a name full of classic, timeless beauty. The ancient Biblical
story of Hadassah, or Esther, is one of quiet strength and commitment. One day our Ester will become part of this tradition.
Many of our "Ester" jars are sold in stores:
"Ester" is a 16 ounce "Kerr" jar with a stainless steel "skinny" style pump.
We sell this jar individually or in a pair; skinny lid
attachments are available to be placed on your own mason jars.
(Especially for those of you that have a collection of beautiful vintage jars).
