I don't know where this is coming from, but I think I like it.
I planted a jalapeno plant, that turned into a bush in the garden. I have already frozen 32 jalapenos for chili later in the year, so I should have plenty of peppers to make it through football season. I still have dozens of peppers on the plant, and me being the way that I am, can't stand to see them possibly go to waste. So, what to do?
Ask at work - any ideas for jalapenos?
Sure - jalapeno jam, the kind you eat with cream cheese and crackers.
Okay, I'll give it a whirl.
I made some today. It was actually easy, although I thought I might die while seeding and veining the peppers. ** HELPFUL HINT: Don't stand over the garbage disposal while you're rinsing all the seeds and shrapnel down the drain. ** I ended up with six and a half pints of jam. I'll be taking some of it to my in-laws tomorrow for Labor Day, and we'll see how it turns out before I take it to work.
Never did I think I'd be making jalapeno jam, much less doing half the other stuff that I'm doing. My mom wasn't into "stuff" like this, and I think she may have canned when she was younger, but I don't remember her doing it when I was young. I don't remember either of my grandmas, and later the other two additional grandmas, doing it. My husbands mother used to, and her mother in law still does - we love Gigi's jam!
I wish I could come up with something philisophical and enlightening about making jam, but all I know is I like taking something that I grew, adding a few things to it, and turning it into something for someone else. I'm proud of what I'm learning and making. I'm proud of myself.
Hmm ... outside of my kids, I don't know when the last time was I said that I was proud of myself, and really meant it. I talk to my kids about it all the time, being proud about what you've done or created, but I've never put it back on myself until now.
I know that Pride is one of the Seven Deadly Sins, but I'm not feeling so deadly right now, just pretty darn good about myself.
And I like that feeling.
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