April 11, 2006


my family has one long-standing, rather charming, loosely-held yearly tradition. very specific category, no? ever year or so, we will all drive down to a little farming town along the central coast and pick berries at a farm that seems to do amazingly good business making tourists pick their own produce. we gather a couple of flats of ollaliberries, or my favorite, blackberries. mm-mm-mmm. i always get very competitive and brag to my father about my greater speed and bucket full of riper fruits. look, it's a wholesome family activity and it's very difficult to sex up that subject any.

anyway, the result of all this farm family fun is jars and jars of momma's lovely homemade jams. and they're not restricted to berry types - she will buy plums and strawberries and peaches and reduce them all into tasty poultices to be spread on toast. i don't eat jams very often, as i infrequently consume toast at home, but i'm an absolute fiend for mother's brilliant concoctions. this first came about when i was quite young and mother got her hands on some plums. oh my god, the plums. she made a delictible plum jam that rocked my tiny, prepubescent world. since then, i'll go through phases in which all i can think about is mother's jam. this will include nights when i'll go to bed with a jar of jam, a box of saltines, and, of course, a knife and i'll kick my legs and giggle.

while home for spring break, my mother raved to me the virtues of jam mixed in with plain yogurt. i tried it. it was tasty. i stole the largest jar of strawberry jam off the counter and shoved it in my carryon. i had plans of yogurt and jam and ice cream and jam and spoonfuls of jam shoved into my mouth and savored. well, long story short, the lam broke somehow on the plane, but i could not bring myself to toss it. such good jam. so, i shoved the jar in the fridge, and waited for my will to break. it did. i bought some plain yogurt and emptied all the jam into a bowl. first couple of times i had jam with things, there were no glass shards in - lucky me. and such tasty jam, i still could not bring myself to dispose of it. i knew it was only a matter of time before my love of jam would cause me bodily harm. so tonight, when i made myself a big bowl of jam and yogurt, i was not surprised when i fished the shard out of my mouth. i was a bit shocked that i hadn't cut myself. good luck. i did the best thing possible under the circumstances of addiction - i asked for help. i admitted i didn't have the power to help myself and i put the situation into somebody else's hands. i asked kat to save me from myself - from my love of jam. she emptied the jar into the disposal, and i was freed of my dangerous addiction. sure, i did get my mother to send me another jar of her pectin love, but this one does not have glass inside, so it's okay.

in light of this, i'm amazed i haven't died from some crazy obsession of another. massive tongue lacerations, perhaps. god, mmm, i just had some jam and yet i crave more. more tasssssty jam.


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