Blackberry Jam

I love making jam! I think my favorite kind is blackberry jam. I love traipsing through the Kirkhaven woods looking for berry patches. I love filling my “repurposed” plastic ice-cream buckets with the juicy jewels I find. And I love the art and the craft of turning this summer bounty into rich, sweet, yummy jam. I don’t even mind the purple stains left on my hands (and sometimes my shirts) from the whole, earthy process.

I like bringing people with me sometimes when I go berry picking, but everyone isn’t always as keen on blackberry harvesting as I am. It is a hot, prickly, tedious job that puts you in close contact with bugs, thorns, ticks, and . . . occasionally . . . a blacksnake sunning himself in the meadow.

By the way . . . I always try to convince my companions that the blacksnake is a good thing. He eats the vermin that might otherwise overrun my farm. Kind of like our faithful Kirkhaven pest control. They don’t usually buy my reasoning, however.

As my bucket slowly fills . . . one-juicy-berry-at-a-time . . . . I have a luxurious amount of time to think, dream, pray, and hum myself through a peaceful Kirkhaven morning or early evening. I am treated to the joyous melodies of chirping songbirds if I go picking in the morning. Crickets, cicadas, and croaking frogs peacefully accompany my evening forays. Whatever the time of day, the predictably hot, humid Tennessee air usually makes the whole affair a complete energy sapper that climaxes with a fairly long . . . quite steep . . . walk back uphill to the house. However, orange-mint iced tea and a refreshing dip in the pool easily remedies any berry-picking fatigue.

For me, a gallon bucket heaping with these dark purple treasures is a treat well worth the effort. Blackberry jam for my breakfast toast. Blackberry syrup for my ice-cream or waffles. Blackberry cobbler for a summer evening dessert. Blackberry bread and blackberry muffins. Blackberries to enjoy and to share with those I love.

Actually, I am eating some toast slathered with blackberry jam as I write this blog.

Yuuummmm.

With peanutbutter. Double yum!

Here are pictures of my canning shelf in the kitchen after an afternoon of making jam. The hanging brown bags are for drying herbs from my garden. The blue pot has my small pruning shears and my herb scissors in it. A handful of crushed limestone in the bottom of the pot (harvested from our well-digging project) always reminds me of the Lord’s faithfulness . . . and keeps the cutting blades dry. The books contain my favorite recipes, canning instructions, and gardening tips. The basket beside the shelf holds my gardening gloves (I know I should use them, but I hardly do), my Lowe’s pocket apron (really handy), bug spray (keeps ticks away while in the woods), and my handy-dandy folding stool for weeding.

You should come join me some time. Picking blackberries and making jam are peaceful, rich, soul-satisfying kinds of endeavors. And you never know whom the Lord will bring to share the bounty of your harvest.

That is one of the sweetest things about my little East Tennessee farm. We never know who will come to share with us. We do, however, know that it will be very good.

Because the Lord is Good.
So very Good.

O taste and see that the LORD is good;
How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!
Psalms 34:8