No More Jumping
While capturing my image for the past week’s assignment of decisive moment, I discovered—-wait for it…………………..
Elderberries! And at the end of the field! and not inside anyone’s fence!
Elderberry Jelly was a staple of my childhood. My mother made pint jars of it having given up on the cute little jars with the paraffin wax topping given five boys with enormous appetites. She also discovered elderberry syrup, having mistaken something while making jelly. This made for an excellent sop for home-made bread or biscuits-=-a daily offering at each and every meal.
One of my brothers was accused of having a bit of bread with his jelly–he heaped the jelly so high.
While we had elderberries on the farm, we also lived on a gravel road and so those elderberries were coated with dust–my mother preferred the ones from my grandmother’s house in town. Grandma would pick them into paper bags and call my mother to come get them.
Elderberry jelly making was a hot process in July—we picked the berries off the stems, boiled them with some apples slices, then strained that huge pot–and then made the jelly.
So when my good friend pointed out the elderberries hanging over my neighbor’s fence, I decided to see if I could make some jelly. I picked all that I could reach–even jumping up to get some. I noticed jars of the jelly for sale at the local grocery store for a lot of money! Who knew that common jelly of my childhood was a specialty item here?
I made about four jelly jars of jelly from that foray—-and offered a jar to the neighbor—but now I have trimmed that elderberry bush back from the fence—I would have to sneak into their yard—but NOW—I can walk over to that field with bags in hand and collect the florets.
I may even try some elderberry blossom wine.
Sylvia Weir Art 