Pluralcountable and uncountable; jams
jam (countable and uncountable; plural jams) A sweet mixture of fruit boiled with sugar and allowed to set, often spread on bread or toast or used in jam tarts. Blockage, congestion; as a traffic jam, paper jam. (popular music) An informal, impromptu performance or rehearsal. (basketball) A forceful dunk. A difficult situation.
For several years James and I have been talking about putting up some jam. And I mean years! Well, Friday was James' birthday and we spent an awesome weekend hanging out with friends and family. (Sorry, Emily and Dave, to have missed your party...we'll catch you on the next time 'round). Today James and I took Meadow and Jeremyah out to a local u-pick berry farm and loaded up!
Thirteen pounds of blueberries!
Nine pounds of strawberries (that's how much each of the kids weighed when they were born!)!
Then we went to the grocery store and picked up some essentials and some pectin and went home to embark on our first-ever jam making session.
First batch done!
No, we didn't add any mustard or anything but we did take a break to eat hamburgers.
James and the kids picking the stems and leaves out of the blueberries.
Meadow gets a turn stirring the berries as they cooked.
Jeremyah stirring the berries.
There I am ladling the hot jam into the jars.
The small batch in the back is strawberry jam, the small bach on the left is blueberry jam and the large batch on the right is raspberry jam.
James relaxes after a satisfying birthday weekend.
James' birthday pavlova.
My dad went on a roadtrip with some of his biker buddies a week and a half ago or so and got in a little scuffle with a deer. He was going about 60 miles per hour on his Harley when he hit it and went down. He flew off the bike and rolled and skidded down the road a ways and into a ditch. By some miracle he walked away with zero broken bones or internal injuries. However, he's going to have to grow a lot of skin back.
James and I stopped by to see daddy on our way out to James' folks' place and I took a few pictures of my papa.
Big tough guy, my dad. He's so burly at 63 that he can walk away from an accident like that and come home joking about it. No, he didn't keep the deer.
Note the lovely red circles on his knees. Protect those patellae!
I'm so thankful that he's OK. He said he wants to go on another ride when he gets his bike back from the shop. During that ride he's going to decide whether or not to give up riding. We all think he should keep doing it as long as he's not freaked out by it. It's his absolute favorite thing to do and it's not like he was drunk when he crashed or a feeble-minded old man. He's in great shape and has great reflexes. The doctor told him, after doing some x-rays, that he has the body of a 55 year-old and if his back muscles weren't so strong he likely would have broken his spine in two places where there was some twisting.
As long as you love it, Papito, keep riding. I love you.