Crafty canning

The chill of autumn hung in the air as the trees outside shed their brilliant colors, leaving a carpet of red and gold on the ground. Inside Badger and Yote’s cozy homestead, the kitchen was warm and bustling. The two friends had spent the morning harvesting the last of the fall vegetables—pumpkins, squash, beets, and carrots—gathered from their small but bountiful garden. Now, with winter just around the corner, they were busy canning, preserving, and storing their hard-earned harvest to ensure they’d be well-stocked for the cold months ahead.

The kitchen smelled of earthy root vegetables and tangy vinegar as pots bubbled away on the old cast-iron stove. Shelves lined the walls, already filled with rows of glass jars containing summer’s pickled cucumbers, berry jams, and tomato sauces. The clink of jars and the snap of lids echoed through the room as Badger worked steadily, placing freshly filled jars into a steaming hot water bath to seal them tight.

Yote, perched on a sturdy wooden stool, was peeling carrots and humming a tune. “There’s nothing like getting ready for winter,” he said, tossing a carrot top into a basket. “All this hard work is going to pay off when the snow falls, and we’re sitting by the fire with a bowl of stew made from our own canned veggies.”

Badger nodded, carefully adjusting the lid on a jar of spiced pumpkin puree. “It’s true,” he replied, his voice filled with contentment. “And there’s something about canning that just feels like preserving a piece of the season, capturing the taste of fall in a jar.”

As they worked, Badger’s eyes fell on a small wooden box resting on the windowsill, half-buried under a few cloth napkins. It was an old puzzle box he had found in the attic a few years back, given to him by his grandfather. The box had carvings of autumn leaves and woodland animals, and on its lid was a riddle engraved in delicate script. He picked it up and showed it to Yote.

“Remember this?” Badger said, holding up the box. “The riddle my grandfather used to challenge us with every fall? Let’s see if we can solve it again.”

Yote wiped his paws on a rag, intrigued. “A riddle, you say? Now that’s the kind of break I can get behind.”

Badger read the inscription aloud, his voice mingling with the hiss of the boiling pots.

I can be cracked, made, told, and played.
I can bring joy, tears, or be delayed.
What am I?

Can you figure out what the riddle is describing? Think about things that can appear in different forms and have multiple meanings. It’s something that can be part of everyday life and can bring different reactions depending on how it’s used.

🧠 Riddles like this are more than just wordplay—they encourage us to see the multiple meanings that words can carry and challenge us to think creatively. Much like canning the fall harvest, solving a riddle is about capturing something special in a simple form. It’s a reminder that everyday moments can contain hidden depth, and even the most ordinary things can hold surprises when viewed from a different angle.

🚨 Hey Badger and Yote friends! Our community is growing, but we need your help to pick up the pace. We’re aiming for 1,000 subscribers, and there’s still a gap to close. Can you lend a hand by sharing with friends and family? Referral incentives are coming soon, and the sooner we reach our goal, the more fun we’ll all have together!

👉 Did you know? Our friends at The Sample will send you one article from a random blog or newsletter that matches up with your interests? Pretty cool right? When you get one you like, you can subscribe to the writer with just one click. Check it out here.