Grape Jam

I texted Belladonna and told her that I had a surprise for her.

I asked her if she trusted me.  She said "Yes."

I directed her to close her eyes and to open her mouth.

She danced around some but then finally, reluctantly did it.

I put a spoonful of newly made, Concord grape jam in her mouth.

Her face fell.  "Oh, dad.  I am so disappointed. I thought you were going to give me the keys to a new car."

Then my face fell.

"Gotcha!"  She knew I did not have that kind of money and the house reeked of Concord grapes.

My daughter is a wise-elbow.

Cleaned berries in apple cider.

After cooking

Run through a sieve, add pectin and sugar.  We got eleven pints.

 I have been trying to kill this Concord grape vine for about a decade.  It is in a row with French-American hybrid wine grapes.  It squats like a washerwoman among runway models amidst the Lucy Kuhlman, Marechel Foch, and Castel vines.

And then I learned that Belladonna adores Concord grape jelly.  Now I may have to start taking care of this vine.

At least Bella is set for the next year for grape jam.