Journal Entries
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Bon Journal
Pick your own berries
My neighbour invited me to pick raspberries, loganberries, and red currants
from her flourishing garden. The sun was still hot at 8 pm, and we picked
and talked until my bowl was full.
The summer I spent at Cornell University was the first time that I had
ever picked berries. I had picked enough strawberries to make eight big
jars of jam.
Tonight I tried to recall the recipe for making jam. Thanks for the
Internet, I just searched on google
for "raspberry jam" and out came several recipes. The volume
of berry equals the volume of sugar. Yet none of the recipes specified
the type of sugar. I quickly ran out of white sugar and had to move on
to light brown and finally dark brown sugar.
I vaguely remembered how to sterilise the glass jars. I boiled them
in a big pan of cold water. Then I took them out with the opening facing
down.
In between simmering slowly over low heat and running back to my computer
to get the rest of the two sentence recipe, I tried to multi-task by calling
my Colombian sculptress friend to arrange to see her. As the skies darkened,
I rushed out to release the clothes I had hung out to dry.
When the hot mixture failed to thicken even after the sugar had all
dissolved, I panicked. It tastes like jam. I just hope it feels like jam
when it cools down.
1 July 2001
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This time last year I was spending the entire day indoors composing
the piano solo piece Winter in
July. It was too cold for comfort. Then I went away almost the entire
month of July, to New York, DC, Houston.
English summers are too good to be missed.
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