Mexican Plum Jam

The shelves were filled with a spectacular array of preserves and pickles as richly colored as jewels. She brushed a finger over the middle row, where bottled fruits were stored, giving a proprietorial glance to jars labeled quince, morello cherry, damson, peach, greengage, grape, and finally plum. ― Janet Gleeson, The Thief Taker Breakfast this morning. Yum. You will have to trust me. It's harvest time. The brittle remains of the corn and grain float up and ride the wind - and sometimes dust devils - all the way to my house. I'm far from the fields, but can tell by the heat and husks in the yard that I'd best hurry if I want to can anything before the market (or a friend's fig or plum tree) is bare. RE sent me a message. The Mexican plums were ready if I still wanted to try and make jam. "Oh, and I potted up some of that grass you were interested in. It's a clumping grass and shouldn't spread," said he. I headed south for a short d...