If You Want the Best Jam in the Land, You Gotta Make Your Own

"If you want the best jam in the land, you gotta make your own." This is the chorus to a song I first heard in my living room when our friend, Kylee, sang it to our kids as she played the guitar. Later I learned that Michelle Shocked sings it and if I can ever figure out how to add music to this blog of mine, I'll add the song to this post some day.

At the tail end of July, I got a call from my good friend Tiffany. Here's how the call went:

Tiffany (in her always enthusiastic tone): Angie! They have 25 lb. boxes of apricots at Farmer's Market for THREE dollars!!

Me (wondering why this is such exciting news): Sounds like a good deal for you...

Tiffany: NO! You don't understand! It's a GREAT deal! Go over and buy a box and we'll make jam!

Me: Tiff, I don't know how to make JAM!

Tiffany: That's okay! I'll show you. Go buy a box if you're in. (Click. She hangs up.)

The next thing I know, I'm forking out my 3 bucks for a very heavy box of apricots. I had committed myself to a day of jam making.

Early the next Friday morning, Tiffany shows up at my front door wearing the frilliest apron you've ever seen. It had ruffles like that of a can-can girl and this can-can girl had more canning supplies with her than she had ruffles in her apron. Our six kids got all kinds of busy playing and I put on my apron (not nearly as fancy as Tiffany's) so that Tiffany and I could get all kinds of busy with this project of ours:

First, we sterilized all our jars:


Then we made some tactical errors that cost us nothing but time until we consulted the directions in the boxes of pectin. Then, we got busy cooking down the apricots with pectin and more sugar than I feel comfortable admitting to in print:

We stirred and stirred the dreamy concoction until it was time to can it up with help from some of our six kids. Meagan was especially fond of jarring up the jam:

We experimented a bit trying reduce the rediculous amount of sugar and blending the mixture for a different texture. So, every batch of jam was a little different from the next. We joked that we should wait and label the jars after all was said and done. Some were best labeled "syrup", others "chutney", others "sauce" and still others the "jam" it was intended to be. Call it what you want, but we were pretty darn proud of all these jars:

This project, with the "help" of the six kids took all day long. And we never did get to the second box of apricots. That box would spend the day with Tiffany alone in her kitchen where she would try some new experiments like adding pineapple to the concoction, yum! As we spent the day together, we sustained ourselves on laughter and stories of our grandmothers who were champion canners.

Tiffany told me stories of her memories of canning with her mom and grandma and how they'd tap quickly on all the jars insuring that they were all safely sealed. I told Tiffany about how my grandma traveled with jars of pickles in her suitcase because she never wanted to disappoint my dad, her son-in-law, who anxiously awaited her signature pickles when she and my grandpa would come visit us.

We took another look at all our jars and decided we should be photographed with the result of a day's labor:

How could we have not gotten Tiffany's can-can apron in the picture?!

We really were quite proud. Then Tiffany brought us back down to earth when she said, "You know what, Angie, I was reading my grandma's journal once about how she made 4 bushels of fruit into jam. That's like 4 times what we just made and she did it all by 10 a.m., I'm sure of it! We're not really as cool as we think we are."

Still, we decided we were cool enough to enter our jam in the county fair. On Friday night, we went to the fair to take part in some good county fair fun and to view all the entries, and guess what??!

It turns out we made the best jam in the land.

Here are some other ribbon winners at the county fair:

Meagan's Sunflower Photograph-White Ribbon


James' Horse Painting-Red Ribbon


Charlie's finger painting - white ribbon

Out with the Old, In with the New

Out With the OLD...

In With The NEW...

It is time for new pair of shoes. Actually, it is way past time. I bought those old sneakers in 2005 to train for and do the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk to fight against breast cancer. The walk was 60 miles and the training was more than that, so right off the bat those shoes have some serious mileage on them. I paid a pretty penny for them and made some good memories in those shoes, so I held on to them much longer than I should have. So, I finally got some new shoes and am breaking them in with new memories. I did a short walk to a friend's house and back to get them in shape for the Climb to Conquer Cancer last weekend. Here they are on mile 6 of the 7-mile hike up the mountain road to our local ski resort.

Through the end of this month, you can learn more about this CLIMB and even contribute to the cause of eradicating cancer by clicking http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/CommunityFundraisingPages/CTCGreatWestDivision?px=5753050&pg=personal&fr_id=10197

You are my Sunshine

You are my Sunshine...my only Sunshine. You make me Happy when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how MUCH I LOVE you, please don't take my sunshine away.

These are my three little sunshines in the sunflowers that blanket our mountain city after a string of monsoon storms, of which we've been thrilled to have many this summer.

I love when I see the first of these sunflowers pop up....and then I get just giddy when they start blanketing the land. I've even seen them growing out of rocks!

After picking up the kids from school on Friday, we did our annual photo shoot in the flowers. As is often the case with these three, things got a little silly.....and then things got even more silly...

Meagan is much more fond of taking pictures than having pictures taken of her, so I handed her the camera. Here is a slice of life from her perspective. The next six shots are hers. She plans to enter one of them in teh county fair in a couple of weeks:

James
picking a boquet
for his Momma.

PRETTY, PRETTY FLOWERS...

Charlie loves them all.

It only seemed appropriate, to continue relishing in these last days of summer with...

ICE
CREAM

CONES!!

Ice Cream always punctuates the perfect summer day with a smile, especially with prices like these:

Four ice cream cones (of course I had to have one too) for 2$, you gotta love it!

Flying on the First Day of School

I'm a sucker for the first day of school--even now that I am no longer in school. I love brand new school supplies. I love the thrill of a new beginning. I love the formation of a new community. Now, I love watching my kids experience that too. Today marks the beginning of a new school year for the three you see here. Meagan is in third grade, James in first, and Charlie is in half-day preschool. Charlie took part in a home-based preschool two mornings per week last Spring, but today marks his first true school experience. Meagan and James are in the same class as it is a 1st-3rd combination class. They are excited to be together, and I love knowing that they will be together. Charlie is in the same class James was in for preschool and kindergarten, so Charlie feels very comfortable (maybe too comfortable) in that classroom.

The three of them were so excited this morning. I, on the other hand, had mixed emotions. We've had such a fanstastic summer and it seems wrong to call summer off before we even reach the mid-point of August. More than this, I'm coming into a new beginning of my own and as much as I love new beginnings, they are always a bit jarring--no matter how well you prepare. This will be the first time in almost nine years that I don't have at least one kiddo (if not two or three) as my constant side-kick. There will be many perks to this kid-free time as I'm convinced that one kid-free hour is equal to least two kid-full hours. Still, it's a crazy thing to watch your little birdies fly from the nest (even for just a couple hours each morning). As my tiniest bird excitedly threw his little back pack on top of those of his brother and sister in the trunk of the car, I found myself with a lump in my throat and my eyes a bit misty over the three of them fleeing the nest at all at once. But, alas, this is the whole point of parenting...to teach these little people to fly on their own...

And fly they will.

Salein' Solo

Summer is not complete until I've had a garage sale, which is just what I did yesterday. I get a real thrill from putting my stuff in the drive way, being a store owner for a day, watching stuff I no longer want drive away with happy customers while I slip the extra cash into my fancy garage sale belt.

The first summer I was married, I was so excited to share this thrill with the love of my life. After combining our house holds and getting ready to move half-way across the country, we had lots of lute to sell, my honey and I! The big day finally arrived. We got up early, swept the drive-way, put up signs, set up all our merchandise, and waited for the customers to arrive. And arrive they did! I started engaging our customers, answering questions about how certain things worked, bargaining deals, and making change. It got pretty busy but Jeff was no where to be seen. When there was a lull in the action I stepped into the house, to figure out what had happened to him. He was keeping himself busy with other projects inside. Dumbfounded, I said, "What are you doing? We have customers outside." Looking a little guilty, he said, "I know. I just can't stand out there with all my junk in front of people! Did you see the lady in the black shirt? I know her from work! Sorry, Angie, I just can't do it!" Shocked by this admission and stunned that my dream of us hosting yearly garage sales together would not be, I rejoined our "junk" out on the driveway. How could he not have told me about this "phobia" of his BEFORE we married?! But, I'm coping. Our friends, Darrell and Starr, joined the sale a few hours later that day. It turns out Starr has the same "phobia" as Jeff. So, when she hightailed it into the house to "help Jeff make lunch", Darrell and I put on a great sale!

Learning from that experience, I always try to invite a friend to co-host the garage sales with me. Yesterday, I ran my garage sale along side my neighbor, Karen. She's a great lady whose children are all grown. She and her husband retired to the house next door about 9 years ago and she was ready to clear their garage of various antiques and collectibles amongst other things.

So, this morning the alarm went off at the crack of dawn and Jeff (who typically enjoys sleeping in a bit on Saturdays) pulled himself out of bed, swept the driveway, helped me to display merchandise (including the beat-up couches mentioned in my previous post), posted signs, and gathered some change for me. But, as soon as that first customer headed up our driveway, he was GONE, swallowed back into hiding.

It was a busy morning. I glanced over to see if things were as busy over in Karen's drive-way. I couldn't help but take notice that her husband was out there with her, unashamed to "stand out there with all his junk in front of everyone." I sighed knowing that that would never be Jeff and me in our golden years. Oh well. I just need to be at peace knowing that I'll be living a life of salein' solo.

Olympic Fever

The Olympics start in just a few hours and we are very, very excited! Jeff will be the first to tell you that I'm no sports fan, but I LOVE the Olympics. I always have. I was only a year old during the '72 Olympics and I don't remember the '76 Olympics, but I do remember reading Nadia Comennici's biography as soon as I could read a whole book on my own and just being enthralled with her story. I also remember the pit in my stomach as I watched Jimmy Carter on the television in my living room when I was nine explaining why the USA would be boycotting the Olympics. I didn't understand what he was saying, but I remember how unfair I thought this was to the athletes who had trained so long and hard (and how unfari it was to me who had been waiting four years to see them compete). I lived overseas in '84 and didn't get to see much coverage of the Olympics, but who doesn't remember Mary Lou Retton's perfect vault. Jeff's work number ends -8410 and I always remember the phone number because in '84 Mary Lou Retton got a 10. Then, in '88 I remember being glued to the ice skating finals during a highschool party while everyone else was partying (and they weren't celebrating the Olympics). I spent much of my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary party in one of their rocking chairs pulled up real close to their television to watch the all-around gymnastics competion. In '92, the Olympics competed with my studies at the Uof A. I had a tiny little television in my dorm room which was better than what my friend's Brian and Deirdre had, no television. They would come up to my room and we'd all strain our eyes to watch it together. I'll always remember and still quote Brian who fell to his knees and yelled "We got the GOLD!!" when some poor skater fell in pursuit of her life's dream rendering Kristi Yamaguchi the winner of Olympic Gold. Since owning our home, we've had some Olympic parties complete pot luck dishes from around the world and even an Olympic Torch pinata one year (thanks, Diana!) The last Summer Olympics found me with a newborn baby. I was so excited that he was born just before the Olympics knowing that I'd have the Olympics to keep me entertained while I nursed him at all hours of the night. I'm telling you, the best time to have a new born is during an Olympic Year! I'm a sap I know, but I love seeing all the countries of the world come together sporting their flags and cultural customs all in the spirit of friendly competition. I'm also moved and inspired by the odds people overcome to reach their full potential. We thought about having another party this year, but Jeff was embarassed by the state of our beat up couches and I was afraid that people might try to socialize during such a party. I really don't want to miss a moment of these opening ceremonies. Still, we're having our own little party, just us, on our beat-up couches with home made pizza, salad, and NO socializing!

Thacher Sol

I've got a new baby nephew to love! My brother called today with the great news that their baby boy was born this afternoon and all are doing well-Mama, Papa, Thacher, and his two big sisters! It's always so exciting to welcome someone new to the family! I can hardly wait to welcome him in person. We don't have any photos yet, but Thacher's Mama is a photographer, so I'm sure they will be coming. But, here's a picture of Thacher within his Mama a couple of weeks ago when we were visiting them. Even then, we knew he'd be a cutie pie!

Lots to Learn

Note: I just figured out how to add more pictures in places where I want to add them (well, almost). So, if you are up for more photos of the 4-year-old fire fighter, revisit my previous post and note the pictures at the end of the post.

Future Fire Fighter Turns Four

Emergency! Emergency! We have a 4-year old in the house! For the last 6 months, Charlie has been saying, "When it's my bir-day, I'm gonna have a fire engine bir-day party!" Our little guy loves all moving vehicles, especially ones with loud horns and sirens. We live near a fire station, so we hear the sirens often. Charlie always runs to the window hoping to catch glimpse of the engine whirring up the road. So, we weren't surprised by his request to spend his birthday with a fire engine. I made a little visit to the fire station and let them know that my little guy would like nothing better than to come visit the fire station with his buddies. Without hesitation, the fire fighter said "Sure, we'd love to have them! I'll leave the guys a note." So, the big day arrived and we headed down to the fire station where we'd meet up with Charlie's party guests and the fire fighters, of course. Well, wouldn't you know it! Some guy in town went and fell off his ladder right as we were supposed to start the party and, you guessed it, the fire fighters had to go and be the heroes that they are. One of the fire fighters left at the station assured Charlie that barring any other emergency, we could come back in an hour or two to tour the station. So we made some emergency decisions of our own, and walked the kids to the near-by park for other party festivities. We returned to the station after celebrating with a fire engine cake, dalmatian (cookies and cream) ice cream, presents, and play time. The fire fighters were glad we returned and treated all the kids to a deluxe tour of the station and even the fire engines. It was a great time and such a fun way to celebrate our little fire fighter!