A couple of people have compared me to Jessica Day from "The New Girl" and I usually blow it off as she's a great Every Girl who epitomizes how many of us feel from day to day.
But tonight, I'm excitedly sitting in my dining room listening to the lids on my cans pop.
AKA, I'm having a JAM-boree.
Hot JAM, it's warm in here.
I'm canning.
Jam.
I've done some simple canning before. I think only ever tomatoes. And those are exciting enough!
But now the bar has been raised.
There has been pectin and sugar and "setting" to worry about.
But a mere two hours later (the kitchen is even CLEAN; I know, shut up), 4 out of 9 half-pint jars of strawberry jam agree that I didn't totally blow it.
The day started out innocently enough, when the crew and I picked roughly 20 pounds of berries. And if you thought the 7 of us could destroy a "party size" bag of M&Ms, you should have seen us plow through this sign of summer.
[Note: we are in the middle of Strawberry Week where we are reading awesome books such as The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear aaaaand creepy ones like The Grey Lady and the Strawberry Snatcher, eating lots of strawberries, and Wimbledon.]
Anyhow, I felt I had to start putting my excellent jar collection (thanks, C&J!) to use and I figured I could sneak 5 pounds of strawberries away from the fam if I threw on some Pinky & The Brain cartoons after they were all tuckered out from swimming (thanks, B&K!).
I read three different sets of directions about 50 times each: the recipe that came with the Sure-Jell pectin, the Ball canning website strawberry jam recipe, and The Pioneer Woman's pictorial version.
I followed directions.
I rejoiced when I saw my jam had set in the pot while I was taking the jars out of the water. Because if I've learned anything from British television, it's that a runny jam is not going to cut it.
And...
PING
Now 6 out 9 jars agree that I'm not a moron.