Jam

Have you ever made Jam? Have you ever eaten homemade Jam? Where I live Berry season is starting early this year, which means it will end early too. My family loves Jam, but they are not fond of the jam from the local Supermarket.

This is my fault, and my curse. A few years ago, in an effort to decrease the number of chemicals going into my children’s tiny little bodies, I decided to make my own jam. The kids loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and I was shocked to find out how many jams use red dye to make their jams look redder (?). Yes, because strawberries are such a wonderful…blue color by nature??

Being a wonderful parent and living in a produce rich area, I headed out on a mission to learn JAM MAKING! Yes, I meant to put it all in caps. I read all the online information, dug out old cookbooks, and preceded down the path to infamy. It really was infamy. The first couple batches were inedible. My dog who loves sweets actually put her nose in the air and walked off.

At this point I called my mom; she was a professional jam maker when I was growing up. Now if I had known I was going to be making jam when I was older, I may have actually paid attention when she was doing it. But I was too cool; I was only going to get the good stuff from the store.  She talked me through my mistakes, and off I went again. Now, I can can, or is it I can can jam, lol. The problem with jam making is my children now expect it. From the ones who have moved out, to the ones who are at home, the only store bought jam/jelly they will eat is grape, and they are more than willing to share my jam with their friends, their friend’s friends.

Last year, I missed the strawberries, and I have not heard the end of it. This year I am on top of it.  I am planning my attack. I have started gathering my jars, my rings, and my water bath. And I went out and bought some berries. I was actually excited, right up until I came home with my new lids, and found the berries gone.

My children looked at me in shock and awe as I raced through the house swearing to kill the one who had eaten my berries. No one who lives in my house would cop to it. The red stains around their mouths were anything but berries. They all promised, and took vows to help me catch this horrible person who was eating their berries.  Later this week, I will return to the little stand out along the road, in the middle of the nowhere, and I shall not leave my kitchen until the jam is done.

If you don’t hear from me for a year, please check the jam jars...