Daddy had a hankering for strawberries and Momma had a bunch from her late-crop strawberry patch. She converted the surplus into jam. Fresh, homegrown strawberry jam.
I happened to be over there doing some piddling task and Momma asked me if I'd like to take home a pint. Would I? Why of course!
So, for breakfast, I'm having biscuits and strawberry jam. In all of heaven, there is surely not this much flavor.
Note to my sisters: Nyah-nyah-nyah. I got mine.