This has been a banner summer for jam.
It’s true.
This year we ran out of freezer jam in like February,
Which is not good.
I have children who have become jam snobs.
They refuse to eat anything but homemade jam.

So this year, when my Mom was out visiting,
We made a trip to a local farm.
We picked strawberries.
Buckets of strawberries.

And at the end of the day, we had batches and batches of strawberry freezer jam.
The kids had PB&Js just because they could.

Then we went to visit my husband’s parents last month.
And decided it would be fun to visit a berry farm.
We picked boysenberries.
There were 8 of us picking.
We had picked 20 pounds of berries within about 15 minutes.
What else could we do with all those berries
But make jam?

And then this last week,
Some friends dropped by with a bucket full of wild blackberries.

They grow all around here.
I took the two youngest kids out to the path by the river
And we picked even more.

Lots and lots of wild blackberries.
And I couldn’t let those beautiful berries go to waste.
So I made more jam.

There’s something satisfying about seeing all those jars of lusciousness sitting on your counter.
It feels like an accomplishment.
Must have been how women felt back in the day,
After putting up all their summer vegetables.

And now all of a sudden,
I feel like I should watch a rerun of Little House on the Prairie.
Or the Waltons.

It’s possible I might even start wearing a bonnet.
And making my kids call me Ma.

This cookie quite possibly changed my life.
I am not kidding you.

My sister Sue made them for me last fall for the first time.
And they are delicious.
Let me tell you, when you have to eat gluten-free,
You do not turn your nose up at a delicious wheat-free cookie.

Not only that.
This is a cookie that doesn’t take any crazy ingredients.
Like sorghum flour.
Or potato starch.
Or xanthan gum.
Seriously, people.
No one should have to bake with xanthan gum.
I don’t know why,
But it just seems wrong.

These cookies are made with ingredients you have in your kitchen.
Right now.
And they are so good you are going to want to make them every night.
Not that you should.
Or that I have.
Let’s move on.

So as a shout-out to all my celiac peeps
(My children are cringing right now, because I just typed the word “peeps”)
(And that kind of makes me want to type it over and over)
Sorry. I digress.
To all of you who are gluten-free or gluten intolerant,
You’re going to want to kiss me when you taste these.
Or at least slap me a high five.

So here’s the recipe:

Gluten-free Peanut Butter Cookies
2 C creamy peanut butter
1 C white sugar
1 C brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt

Roll into balls, place on cookie sheet and criss-cross with a fork.
Bake at 350 for 9 to 10 minutes.
And that’s it.

If you feel like it, you can even add 1/2 bag or so of chocolate chips.
Yumm.
Your family will be happy with you.
There may be even be some singing and dancing.
Oh wait, maybe that’s just my family.
We do love our cookies.

If you’re really fancy, you could even make a sandwich cookie.
With peanut butter filling.
Think Nutter Buttters.
Or Girl Scout Do-si-dos.

Oh my.
These are a little bit naughty.

Well, that’s my gift to you this weekend.
If you make these, I will promise you one of two things.
You will either be singing my praises.
Or cursing me, because you are in a peanut butter cookie coma.
I should know.
I’ve experienced both.

Happy baking!

We love our coffee in the Northwest.
Like really love it.
I think it has to do with lots of cold and rainy mornings.
But it doesn’t have to be cold and rainy.
We enjoy it any time.
All the time.

When we moved here 16 years ago,
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
There were drive-through coffee carts everywhere.
And cars were lined up.
I’d never seen such a thing before.

Now, myself, I don’t care for the coffee.
I’m a tea kind of gal myself.
But, raising 4 children as native Oregonians,
I am raising coffee-lovers.

My 20 year old is a die-hard Starbucks fan, of course.
My 16 year old started out with the coffee-ish blended drinks a few years back.
Then she graduated to lattes.
Last year, she started making her own coffee before school each day.
Both of these girls did a little happy dance last week.
Because pumpkin spice lattes are back, apparently.

My younger children are strictly hot cocoa drinkers.
Only occasionally stealing a sip from their older siblings.
Until this week.

Sam came home from school announcing that he had made a discovery.
One of his middle school teachers (he’s in 7th grade)
Uses the powdered hot cocoa mix that we do
And substitutes coffee for the hot water.
He thought it sounded like a good idea.

That afternoon he got his older sister to show him how to use the coffee maker.

Then he was like a gourmet chef,
Mixing just the right amount of cocoa to coffee ratio,
Adding some milk for the creamy factor.
He was cracking me up.

This morning he had the whole thing going on.
Cocoa, coffee, milk….
Poured over ice in a travel cup on the way to school!
He has the makings of a barrista at age 12.

I know I should be warning him that it’s going to stunt his growth.
Or at the very least, warning his teachers that he’s in a caffeine-induced state.
But I can’t help being a little bit proud.
I have done my job as an Oregon mom.
The coffee love has been passed on.

I am moving out of my house in two days.
Two.
I know.
It’s crazy.
My life is in boxes right now.
The only thing I am able to locate with any certainty is my children.
And if they stay still too long,
I’m not promising I won’t bubble wrap them too.

But this afternoon we took a break.
From the packing.
And the taping.
And the labeling.
We took a break to make some jam.

Because the strawberry season in Oregon is short, but oh so sweet.

Because we are out of the freezer jam from last year.

Because, apparently, making homemade jam for several consecutive years turns your family into jam snobs.
My children now refuse to eat store-bought jam.

Because homemade things are lovely.

Because jam makes us happy.
The end.

I’ve had two cups of Earl Grey tea this morning.
In honor of all things British.
And Royal.
Actually, that’s not true.
I drink Earl Grey every morning.
But it seemed like I should do it in honor of William and Kate this morning for some reason.
Why not?
It’s the least I could do
since I didn’t stay up to watch the festivities.

My two older girls decided they were going to stay up to watch it live.
It could have been because of my urging.
And tales of staying up all night watching Charles and Diana’s nuptials back in the day.
I made it seem kind of exciting.
If I do say so myself.

When I came into the living room this morning, they were like two lumps.
One on the couch.
One on the floor.
Dead asleep.
I kinda wish I had taken a picture.
But then they probably would have killed me.
And that’s a bad way to start the weekend.
I’m not sure they made it to the actual ceremony.
But they tried.
And that’s what counts, right?

So speaking of tea.

I found this print on Pinterest yesterday.
You can go to the artist’s blog here.
I loved it so much that I had to buy it.
Maybe you need one too!

Once upon a time it was Easter Sunday.
A family got up earlier than normal to see the sunrise.
There were Easter dresses, colorful baskets, and lots of chocolate.
Great church services.
Then came Easter lunch with the family.

They needed a special dessert….
for a special day.

So the Mom decided to try out Pioneer Woman’s
Tres Leches Cake.
Oh my.

Now her family is in love with her.
No kidding.
Look at those happy faces.

You may need to make some so that your family will fall in love with you too!
You can find the recipe here.
And you can thank me later.
The end.

P.S.  Don’t forget… tomorrow (Apr. 26) is the last day to place orders for Mother’s Day!

At our house, birthdays are kind of a big deal.
We celebrate them all day long.
I’m not exactly sure how this started, but now it’s tradition.
It begins with breakfast.
A special breakfast.
Whatever the birthday boy or girl desires.
And there are presents.

Come to think of it, I believe this tradition started when our kids were small.
They weren’t into waiting for their presents until dinnertime,
so presents at breakfast just seemed right.
We’re not much into delayed gratification in our family.
(note the fact that we open Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve….just saying)

So today is a birthday at our house.
My husband is the birthday boy.
And it doesn’t matter what age you are.
You get a special breakfast.

He is actually off to a conference today that’s out of town,
so we all got up a little early to celebrate his day.

There was a big plate of fresh strawberries.
That was our nod to something healthy on the breakfast table.

And some lovely warm cinnamon rolls.
This is the real reason that I could even attempt to pry the children out of bed early this morning.
Come to think of it, it might be the reason I was able to hop out of bed this morning.
So we’re up.
We’ve had our first celebratory meal of the day.
The kids are off to school all hopped up on sugar.
(sorry, teachers!)
And now it’s time to plan the rest of the day’s fun.

I love making homemade gifts for Christmas.
It just seems like the right thing to do.
I never seem to have enough time, though.
Every year I have such high hopes that I’ll start early.
Like in July.
Then when August rolls around, I think,
“I should get some stuff done NOW, because once school starts, it’s going to be so busy.”
But in August there’s too much vacationing, and swimming, and such.
So then September comes, and with the buying of the school supplies,
And getting ready for new classes and teachers,
No preparation for the holidays gets done.
And this is how it goes.

So I get to December.
And I start thinking about all the people that mean so much to me.
And I realize I can’t buy gifts for all of them.
But I want them to know how special they are to me.
So a homemade gift would be just the thing.
Because I can put a little of myself into it.
And let the recipient know I really care about them.

But it’s December, people.
And everyone knows how crazy things get in December.
Who in their right mind would start a bunch of homemade projects at this late date?
Ummm….that would be me.

This is how it goes down.
I get an idea.
Then I say to my husband,
“I think I’d really like to make such and such for all these people for Christmas!”
I say it real cheery-like and hopeful…like I can get it all done.
He looks at me with a worried expression and says “Really?”
He’s such a good husband, because I know what he’s thinking is,
“You are crazy, woman.
Don’t you remember last year (or the year before)
when you tried to make a thousand homemade gifts
And it all ended up in unfinished projects
And much weeping and gnashing of teeth?”
That would be me (weeping) and him (gnashing of teeth).
But he doesn’t say all that.
He just says “Really?”

So this year I tried to explain it to him.
My craziness.
Why I like to make homemade things.
How it’s a tradition that’s been passed down.
My Mom always did homemade things.
It’s a value that I hold.
It means a lot to me to be able to do something for my friends.
He looked at me all understanding and said “Okay!”
I’m not really sure he said it like that, with an exclamation point,
But that’s how I heard it, I think.

So I need to set this up by telling you that the neat idea I found this year
was on the Martha Stewart website.
That should have scared me off.
Because Martha I am not.
But did it?
No! It just energized me more!
(Can you sense my enthusiasm?)

Secondly, this project included using a candy thermometer.
Candy making is a tricky proposition.
Seriously, someone should have said,
“Erica, back away from the thermometer.”
Because a project like that is just asking for trouble.
If you know what I mean.

But I already had it in my mind what I was going to do.
And plus, Martha had such cute ideas for packaging.
I was hooked.

To be completely honest, I have to say that Martha’s recipe turned out terrible.
I made a whole batch.
Lots of butter, sugar, and pecans were tossed
when the whole thing turned into a gritty mess.
But I was not going to back down.
So I found a new recipe and soldiered on.

And what do you know.
We had success.
Just look at those lovely little candies.

And all lined up in their little box.
Adorable.

I told you the packaging was cute.

So…mission accomplished.
First batch of homemade gifts done.
No weeping.
No gnashing of teeth.
You realize this only fuels my fire.
And I am thinking of what I should make next.
I haven’t told Van yet.
I don’t want to scare him.

There is something very lovely about walking into a Starbucks and getting an Earl Grey tea.
And when that tea comes in a Christmas cup, it’s even better. 

And, when you get to drink that tea in the Christmas cup…

…with your SISTERS….
That’s pretty much as good as it gets!

So my parents were here last weekend
and we picked apples at a great orchard out in the country.
I had been planning this family outing for awhile
and I had some specific ideas about what we would do.

We would pick apples.
Check.
We would drink freshly pressed apple cider.
Check. 
We would eat homemade cobbler (they give it away at this farm).
Check.
And we would make some applesauce.

I remember my Mom making applesauce when I was growing up in Illinois.
So it’s a little bit nostalgic for me.
Plus, it tastes really good.

The downside of making applesauce?
Cutting all those apples.
But I had an idea.
I mentioned that I’d been thinking about an old fashioned style apple peeler/corer.
So my Dad tracked one down.
My Dad’s good at that kind of shopping.
You have a goal.
You hunt it down.
You buy it.
Score.

So we had our apples (a box of beautiful Gravensteins)
We had our apple peeler.
We were ready to go.

Sam became the master apple peeler. 
It was right up his alley.
All speed and finesse.

This is my mom, the master applesauce maker.

It’s kind of amazing how quickly just apples and water turn into applesauce.

And why is it so satisfying it is to see jars of something you canned yourself?
I’m not sure, but I know that it is.

Make Applesauce.
Check.