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Every Jam Tells A Story
Sometimes when life get a bit crazy, I sit down and write about it. Then I put the "little stories" on my labels for all to read, much to my family's chagrin. It seems to take the edge off and puts a funny light on things. When nothing else works, a sense of humor often does the trick. All of my little stories are written in fun and not meant to offend. Any resemblance to your family is purely coincidental.
Green Toe Polish
If you ever wish to meet the Queen, as in Prince William's grandmother, just come to my house. Her twin sister is my mother. I swear. My mother has always reminded me of someone and the other day when she had me make her tea, open her package of cakes, and tidy up her crumbs (which were on her face, not the floor), it hit me. Good lord. She's right here. And if you ever take a trip with her, be prepared. She puts her little royal feet up on the dash, places her vintage sunglasses on, dons her hat and sticks Bob Wills in the tape deck. Did I mention her feet are bare? Oh, all & all I'm quite fond of my queen-like mother. It's just the green pearly toe polish that gets me.
Saga at the Bar-L in Wichita Falls
When I asked my husband if he would describe me as "rowdy" he just quietly said, "I'd say so, but raunchy might be a better term". There went his trip to Barcelona with me. Rowdy is just fine, raunchy is another matter altogether. Raunchy were the women who hung out at the Bar L or the Town Pump in Wichita Falls. The reason I know about it is because the Queen and Sister Queen (my aunt) used to take me there when they couldn't stand us kids hollerin' any longer. So they would drag me with them and they'd have a couple of very cold Red Draws. That's beer with tomato juice for you outsiders. With salt, of course. Gotta have salt.
Bloody Bold and Audacious
Bodacious-Blend of bold and audacious. 1845. In the beginning, I was naming my jams after my own personality traits and Joe suggested that "Bloody Bold and Audacious" might be a fitting term. I'm sure he's just trying to be clever, or something. I'm actually rather quiet and just a bit demure. I don't know where he comes up with these ideas, but please buy my jam so I can take Bold and Audacious lessons and perhaps go to Italy with my friend Ann. She had the nerve to call me the other day just as she was closing her suitcase to go to Barcelona. Know what I was doing? Chopping rhubarb. Such is life on the farm.
Saga at the Homeplate
When I learned recently that an old friend of mine from college did the
splits on top of a bar in Ft. Worth, Tx. without killing herself or anyone else, I decided to give Jesus a chance. She's 47, a mom, a respected member of a community far away, is a high-paid exec, and she still has it! She was doing this in the 70's. If she can do it, what can we all do? I SAY ANYTHING! If I try squatting down for any insane reason, I might as well stay there. I have to say I have a new-found respect for my friend. She also buys my jam by the case - the HOT CHILE BERRY, for a hot chile babe. Go BM. That's short for bar magnet, folks.
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