In a Jam

My neighbor brought over a 5 gallon bucket of plums on Friday. He has a tree and harvest came earlier than I remembered it being. Last year I made 26 jars of plum jam and it was, according to all who tasted, very good. I always feel good about doing these old country type things because it reassures me that if the next depression were to hit small town, TX I could still feed my family thanks to good soil, decent rain and a knowledge of canning. When he lugged over that huge bucket of plums I was glad most of them were still green, because my mom and Bruce were here, so I wanted to be free of activity that would keep me from spending my time with them.

Those little plums sat until Monday, when some piece of me, (who obviously forgot I have 2 children now), thought I could get them boiled, at least! Well, since it now takes me nearly 2 hours to get out the door with these two, we were on the run until 5pm, when I had to take Gracie to swim lessons. By the time we got home, Allan was here to take care of the kids, but it was dinner time for BOTH girls and since Daddy was born without mammary glands, that requires me to sit and be still for fairly long amounts of time. Since Vi likes to eat, belch and cry from about 8pm-10pm, I got nothing done with the fruit.

So last night when I got home from swimming lessons I noticed the very sweet smell emanating from my laundry room. You got it--the plums are no longer green, they are RIPE and starting to burst. I announced to Allan that I HAD to get the jam done TONIGHT and passed off both the kids. That lasted through about 2 boilings, (read: not even half the bucket), and I only managed to get half of the boiled ones peeled and pitted before he was about to rip his hair out, because :let's face it: Daddy just can't soothe the baby in the evening the way Mommy can. Poor guy! It has nothing to do with his fathering skills--he's a fabulous dad and we all adore him. But he's not a dairy cow, and as far as Violet is concerned, she who makes milk makes smiles and nothing less will do!

So I hurried and cleaned my mess as best I could, (I would have immediately dropped the whole project but A) I feel obligated to Leon, who picked all those plums in the hopes of some wonderful spiked jam and B) it looked like I had murdered someone very sloppily at my kitchen sink and I am terrified of creepy-crawlies, so it had to be taken care of. I have a pan of plum pulp and a pan of boiled plums in my fridge waiting for me when Allan comes home tonight. Maybe I can actually get the one pan peeled and pitted. There will probably not be anymore than 6 jars this year. :(

So--someone please remind me that the picture above is my lot in life for the next several months and to not plan anything fun or productive until that time. Also pray that I can be content in that, because this will not last very long and someday I'll wish I could still sniff her sweet baby scent and rub her tiny baby feet--but she'll be big and too busy to let me rub her or sniff her.

Hope everyone is well! We love and miss you--go ahead and post a comment!! It helps to know someone reads my ravings ;)

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