There is nothing in the world as wonderful as the smell of cherries as they become jam. Mother called last night to tell me she had a gallon of sour cherries from her tree. I was in a foul mood and really didn't want to deal with them, but after all, she had picked them so I felt I should use them.
So off I went this morning very early to get them and get back home before midmorning. The cherries sat on the kitchen counter all morning and afternoon as it was so hot I couldn't think of standing at the stove and working on them. However, after a sharp storm, complete with power failure, I decided to make my jam.
I set up the pitter and got to work. There is no finer kitchen tool than a cherry pitter. I swear, if I knew who invented it, I would get in my car, drive to their house, and kiss them full on the mouth. In no time, I had the four cups of chopped cherries and four and a half cups of sugar ready.
As the cherries began to boil, I dumped the sugar in. Heaven. Pure heaven. Within ten minutes, three and one-half pints of cherry jam was cooling; sourdough bread was in the toaster; and my mouth was watering. In 20 minutes, it was all over but the dishes.