It's one of the most beautiful times of the year in Michigan's Great Southwest. Because it's strawberry season. All the strawberries we are stuck buying at the store the other 11 months of the year pale in comparison to the berries grown right here. If you can't tell the difference by eating them, just look at them. And then compare them to the berries at the store. You'll notice the middle is more red than white. That's what happens when berries are picked ripe. It's fruit like this that keeps us here in Michigan.
But enough of my ranting. There is a reason I'm talking about strawberries. We went over to Grandma Westerhoven's this afternoon to turn strawberries into freezer jam. Augie helped mom with some of the stirring.
But mom did most of the hard work.
Aunt Marcie did the chopping.
While Augie kept time and colored.
The brain trust hard at work measuring ingredients.
I helped, too. I did some of the stirring while the jam set up.
And I helped Augie keep time.
Then it was mom's turn to fill the jars...
... with beautiful strawberry jam. That's all for now, until peach season anyway.
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