And across the pond, for my friend Peg, plums are her pears and her metaphor for refugees. Worth a read.
Sometimes in life, you simply have to face the problem that is most pressing. My immediate attention needs to go to dealing with plums.
We have a plum tree in our backyard that has been plumless for probably five years and in memory, I can’t remember it ever producing more than a handful. But his year we got plums baby! They are small, blushy red almost bite-size if they didn’t have a pit and there are a lot of them. We’ve been picking them up by the quart size bucket as they ripen and fall, about four buckets so far.
The thing with plums is they tend to all ripen at once, so I have been frantically researching how to process them. Jam? Most recipes describe a long procedure of boiling and sterilizing with lots of jars and sugar. Maybe something easier like freezing them? But then what does one…
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