Happiness is a jar of jam

Jam

My cousin Ellen texted me this photo earlier, with the simple message: “Thinking of you today. Raspberry jam. :)”

I couldn’t help but smile. I love homemade jam, and hers especially is a sweet combination of berries, sugar and happiness.

I grew up with jam as a breakfast table staple. My mother made freezer jam every summer as soon as Michigan strawberries debuted. She always used the tried-and-true Sure-Jell recipe, which usually gave us enough jars to keep us through to the next June. (Occasionally, the fail-proof recipe did indeed fail, leaving us with a stockpile of thin strawberry ice cream topping. Still a win, in my book.)

Of course, now I’d like to get my hands on some of Ellen’s raspberry jam. Considering she lives five hours away, that probably won’t happen anytime soon. Perhaps it’s time to dust off my own canning jars …

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