For as long as I can remember, my grandmother would brine cucumbers in this crock to make sweet pickles. If it had a lid, I don't remember. She would always just put a plate on top. And when it was time to can the pickles, I'd get a little jar of my own with a handwritten label: "Anna's Sweet Pickles." As a child, I translated the label as "hands off, Grandma made these just for me!" and I would hoard them in the fridge with a complete lack of concern or consideration for my family.
Now that the pickle pot lives at our house, it has not seen any pickle making. It has half-heartedly been holding magazines, as I really haven't been in a pickle state of mind. But then. The thought occurred to me ... potted plants. Now the pickle pot is at the front door brimming with a little garden and welcoming all who enter.
