This is a wild plum thicket. I have a love/hate relationship with them.
I love the fruit, but don't care for the wasps and thorns that these suckers have all over them.
But oh, baby. The jam that you can make from these is fantastically wonderful. Sheer bliss on toast.
I'm not kidding.
First you pick.
You pick. A LOT. OF PLUMS. A lot, a lot, a lot.
They look happy, don't they? It's because they know the PLUM JAM is coming!
But then we picked and picked and picked...
While my husband and father-in-law caught bass. He's a BIG 'un for our lil' pond.
There are a lot of steps to the process, which you can read about here, but in the end, after a lot of standing and stirring...
You get over a hundred and twenty jars of jam. And sore feet, and wasp stings, and thorn pricks, and strained muscles.
But it's ALL WORTH IT.
Because of this jam. It's THAT good.
I'll choose three random people (with one of those random generators to be fair) who comment of this entry, and I'll send you a jar, because I feel the need to spread the jam love.
Comment before Saturday morning at 10 am, central time.
I'll leave you with this.
and this. If I could get away with short shorts, hot pink knee socks and cowboy boots, I totally would. My niece Lillian is a fashion PLATE.