Fifteen years ago, as I was finishing up high school (and now you all know how old I am), I never would have believed in 2010 I'd be standing barefoot in my kitchen in front of a hot stove, 7 months pregnant with my fourth child, stirring jam made from strawberries my husband had picked in our own garden. In Kansas.
But I wouldn't have it any other way. (Well, maybe it would be better if someone else did the actual stirring for the one minute of boiling jam bubbling all over.)
