This last weekend, I was lucky enough to spend some time with friends I've known for about 20 years. Something happened that gave me insight into why I love the friends I have.
I've recently gotten a bee in my bonnet that I'd like to start canning some stuff. Now, I'm not a gardener. In truth, I've got a black thumb. So what would I be canning? Why, stuff OTHER people grow, of course. I also know I'm going THIS weekend to Covert, MI, where there are blueberries as big as my thumbnail. This screams jam to me. I've never made jam in my life. Those who know me, however, know I can be, shall, we say "determined" once I get said bee within bonnet vicinity.
So Saturday I mentioned I had a GREAT idea to start canning. One of these people I've known for 20 years simply said, "I think we'll need to buy a bushel of tomatoes." There was no "are you sure?" or "really?" or any commentary that suggested two (or more, depending on who I can rope into this) people who've never canned in their lives might not be stunningly fabulous at the endeavor.
Yep, my besties, they don't ask questions. They don't even just let me be crazy on my own. They jump in with both feet, right by my side. It means the world to me, since I don't have sisters. So to all my besties, thanks for buying tomatoes with me.
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