Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries...

What does that actually mean?  That Life is tart and juicy?  Shiny and bright, though with long stems attached?  Gloriously red and mouthwatering on the outside, sometimes rotten and sour inside?  All of the above?**

The store where I usually shop was having a special Sunday sale on fresh fruits and veg.  Most everything was local, or within the boundaries of Oregon and Washington.  The Pacific NW has an abundance of produce during this time of year--blueberries, apples, apricots, cherries, peaches; plus lots of vegetables from farms in the Valley.  I wanted the blueberries for my smoothies and the cherries because I've got an urge to make some cherry jam.

I found a recipe for cherry/blueberry jam which sounded just perfect, and as the day started cool and overcast (handsprings and shouts of joy at my house), I thought it would be a great way to spend my afternoon.

Too bad, after walking the dogs and shopping, that I got all the way up the mountain and realized I forgot the pectin stuff that sets the jam.   Ah well.  Assuming I don't eat all the cherries--they are absolutely delicious--I have decided to postpone the jam-making until tomorrow because I don't want to go back to the store just for a tiny little box of pectin.

I also bought a rotisserie chicken that I stuck in the oven to crisp up a bit--I like my chicken cooked a bit more than they do it at the store.  It had been cooking for about 20 minutes when Jan (BFF) called for our regular Sunday phone call.  We got into this long, convoluted conversation and it wasn't until I caught this slightly burned smell that I remembered the chicken--more than an hour later.

To say it was done would be an epic understatement.  I may have discovered a new snack food:  chicken jerky.  Crunchy outside, stringy and hard to chew inside, with the unique taste and texture of chicken-flavored shoe leather.  Maybe I could market this as an MRE for hikers and mountain climbers.  I would take a picture and show it, but it's just too humiliating.  

Still, no matter what, I'm not throwing it away.  I will just have to chew on this dessicated old boot until it's gone, or give it to the dogs.  Or make soup.  Or I figure out how to package it for long-haul hikers.  It's probably better preserved than an Egyptian mummy at this point.

If Life really is just a bowl of cherries, I might as well go grab a handful right now since I've totally ruined my plans for dinner...



**Curious about this whole life, bowl, cherry thing, I looked it up.  Turns out, George Gershwin wrote the song. Judy Garland was the singer.   It's long.  The last two lines of the chorus are: Life is just a bowl of cherries, so live and laugh at it all... 
(Still doesn't make sense, but I like the live and laugh part.)