"Pop! Pop!"

That sound is coming, intermittently, from my kitchen. My sister came over today and in a few hours we produced strawberry, ollalieberry, and plum jams. Each one was, in its own way, an experiment, and we tried making the strawberry with honey, not sugar. It tastes better over yogurt than I expect it will on toast. It's a good thing she and I move well together, since at one point she was stirring lentil soup with her left hand, plum puree with her right, and I was filling and wiping jars from another pot of puree.

We tried to get pictures, really we did, but the back up camera is on the blink also. My real and much-liked camera should come home this week.

At church today, I noticed that the yellow plum tree is dropping gallons of plums. We may have to bike over there tomorrow and give it a little shake -- the woman who usually makes jam for church sales said the fruit was too high for her. I thought of my little climbers . . . not too high for them!

We didn't quite make the math work, but both of us figured that even with sugar and pectin and jars, free, probably-not-sprayed fruit was cheaper in the long run than buying it. And we do love to make jam. Throwbacks, both of us. Whoopie!