Monday, August 10, 2020

Plum Jelly...why not. I like plums, but I also like the process.

We had a few leftover Plums last week, as well as a few that we culled when packing. I didn't live through the depression, but I do have a slight disdain for letting good food go bad. I think I got that from my Granny Carlton. She was always canning and freezing something all throughout the summer. As a kid, on hot summer days when I had had my fill of working at the farm, I would spend the afternoon with Granny. She was a retired teacher, so it just came naturally for her to always be teaching me stuff. She taught me about the changing of the seasons by singling out one tree and pointing it out every time we would go by. She knew just when to take me to the same spot every year to harvest wild asparagus. She taught me to count by sitting on the porch with me and counting cars as they drove by. She read to me...a lot. She was a masterful quilter and taught me how to sew. And when I was old enough to help in the kitchen she taught me how to make Blackberry Jelly, my favorite. It saddened me when her arthritis got so bad that she couldn't do so many of these things that brought her joy. It broke my heart and filled my heart that day she called me down there and gave me her jelly making equipment. It isn't elaborate equipment, just simple and hardworking, a lot like she was. So now, whenever the opportunity arises, I make jelly, blackberry or otherwise. Obviously I enjoy the Jelly, and I really enjoy the process, but mostly I like showing reverence to her for teaching me so much. Whenever I pull out that old jelly press with its stained wooden pestle, I feel like she's right there with me. I like that.