Jamming
Last week Eris and Aaliyah hung this sign on their door.
I asked Leah what it meant and she started telling me what was written on the paper. Given that I know what it said, but didn't understand it's meaning, I stopped her and reiterated that I wanted to know what it meant. "Oh it means we're busy." That sign has been up ever since, and to me it's very zen. They are in progress; becoming the women they will grow up to Be. Figuring themselves out, learning who they are. They're lives are in progress.
Mike disagrees with this sentiment however.
It's the tail end of the strawberry season and we wanted to go strawberry picking before it ended. We loaded up the car and headed out last week.
We drove out to Jacquemin Farms near Plain City. They've got a small (not organic) farm that has you-pick strawberries and a small, terribly quaint store with baked goods, jams, honey, and already picked produce.
The strawberries were for the strawberry vanilla jam that has become tradition in our house. I started making it a couple of years ago, when on a lark I thought that putting vanilla in to my batch of jam might be tasty. I've never looked back. I haven't even bought store made jam or jelly since I started making my own. There's no need. With a little work, you can get homemade jam that's cheaper and far more delicious than anything you can buy.
I need to buy some more very soon to make a sugar free batch for Mike. We didn't realize it when we made the sugar free batch last year that it doesn't last as long as the regular jam. Instead of up to two years after being canned, this lasts only about six months. So I had to throw out four or five jars from last summer, which made us all sad. Mike promised to eat it faster this year so it doesn't go to waste.
I asked Leah what it meant and she started telling me what was written on the paper. Given that I know what it said, but didn't understand it's meaning, I stopped her and reiterated that I wanted to know what it meant. "Oh it means we're busy." That sign has been up ever since, and to me it's very zen. They are in progress; becoming the women they will grow up to Be. Figuring themselves out, learning who they are. They're lives are in progress.
Mike disagrees with this sentiment however.
It's the tail end of the strawberry season and we wanted to go strawberry picking before it ended. We loaded up the car and headed out last week.
We drove out to Jacquemin Farms near Plain City. They've got a small (not organic) farm that has you-pick strawberries and a small, terribly quaint store with baked goods, jams, honey, and already picked produce.
The strawberries were for the strawberry vanilla jam that has become tradition in our house. I started making it a couple of years ago, when on a lark I thought that putting vanilla in to my batch of jam might be tasty. I've never looked back. I haven't even bought store made jam or jelly since I started making my own. There's no need. With a little work, you can get homemade jam that's cheaper and far more delicious than anything you can buy.
I need to buy some more very soon to make a sugar free batch for Mike. We didn't realize it when we made the sugar free batch last year that it doesn't last as long as the regular jam. Instead of up to two years after being canned, this lasts only about six months. So I had to throw out four or five jars from last summer, which made us all sad. Mike promised to eat it faster this year so it doesn't go to waste.