The smell of love

I am always amazed at how strong your sense of smell can trigger memories.

I can still smell the little ice cream shack that was located in the middle of a two lane highway across from the first house I ever lived in... I haven't been in it in about 25 or more years. I'm not even sure it is still standing, but I can smell it's distinct cherry-ish, almond-ish sugar cones and that I always had Superman ice cream.

This weekend my mom and I ~with the help of two other little ones~ made strawberry preserves and the smell of three gallons of strawberries was overwhelming! They were so colorful and vibrant... really, what food says summer like strawberries?

Even more remarkable is the smell of the warm preserves. It is simply intoxicating. I am amazed that fruit with sugar and pectin can transform something already wonderful into a jar of sunshine that we can open on the dreariest of February mornings.

This is the jelly that I have eaten my entire life.

It was on the english muffin when I was a baby, drinking my coffee (that's a story for another time).
It was on the toast I would eat when I was sick.
It was on the peanut butter sandwiches I had for lunch.
It was mixed with butter, so I could dip my biscuits in it.
It was all of these things because my mom made it.

And now it's on Isaac and Meg's toast, peanut butter sandwiches and biscuits.

This is a tradition. One I have enjoyed my entire life and one I plan on continuing and hoping that my children will have as many wonderful and comforting memories as I do that include "Strawberry 'erves".
Thanks mom. For everything.