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I am UmberDove.

And by that, I mean an artist.  One who hears stories in the wind, who paints because it is what her soul tells her to do, who smiths because the muse moves through her fingertips, who loves nothing more than the promise of an unexplored trail, the sound of the ocean in her ears, and scent of a serious cup of coffee.


What's Black and Red and Spread All Over?


THIS JAM, that's what is!
(seriously, LOOK at that color! swoonterific!)
This weekend I truly broke in my new gas range with a batch of the season's first jams: Strawberry-Blackberry to be exact.

The strawberries hail from my favorite vendors at the farmer's market: A young couple, 35 at the most, the very definition of earth sprites.  She has long ringlets of strawberry-blond hair and a smile like Mother Nature herself.  Last year as spring progressed into autumn, she would weigh out my potatoes and lettuces with a gentle hand on her growing belly.  This year she has a beautiful blonde boy permanently strapped to her chest but she mans the scale as deftly as ever.  Her partner looks a bit like Moses, long curls and a bushy beard with a constant wide grin.  We chat about the brussel sprouts and his uncle's plum orchard (last year I made the most heart-stoppingly delicious jam from those plums, this year the crop was too small to bring to market and I almost cried).  They gush over squash blossoms and always throw an extra head of garlic in the bag with a wink.  Their berries are the sweetest at the market, and I'm constantly suckered into giving them all my cash for whatever they may have harvested that morning.

The blackberries hail from the southern fence-line of my property, starting approximately 12 feet from the laundry room door.  Between the songbirds, the pup, and myself, we're working hard on snapping up every plump black globe but the bushes just keep coming.  Prolific!  I think I'll need to make up a cobbler this week, "need" being the key term.  I've always had a love affair with blackberries, stemming from hot summer nights kayaking down rivers, filling milk jugs with the fruit that overhangs the water's edge.  I imagined myself a doe, plucking berries delicately with my teeth while teetering on skinny legs. 
The very definition of wild-crafted
All of this to say,
I made TWO jars for you!

Organic Strawberries.
Wildcrafted Blackberries.
Organic Unbleached Sugar.
And a little bit of magic earth fairy dust thrown in for good measure.

All you need do is leave me a comment below and cross your fingers tight!  I'll draw two names from the proverbial hat sometimes on Wednesday August 10th and ship-shape the lucky winners their jam!  Buy some bread, bake some scones or just get your spoons at the ready.

And Good LUCK to you!