Pass the jam, please. The homemade blueberry jam, that is. Yes, I've elevated myself to the likes of Martha Stewart here on Fire Island (well, if you can imagine Martha Stewart in a polka dot bikini, that is) -- picking bowls and bowls of blueberries from the wild bushes that grow in our yard and whipping up a batch of blueberry jam yesterday. This morning, I opened the container in anticipation. Toasted my bread. Spread it with butter. Spooned on the jam. And alas, it was yummy. Very yummy. Life slows down here so much that I have time to read recipes, think about what's for dinner, run to the corner market several times and try out all sorts of new delicacies.
* Photo courtesy of marthastewart.com
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