Talk about bring back memories. Growing up in a small town, each year my mom would grab every pot and bowl we had and we would head off to pick Black Berries. After everything was full and we were cut up pretty good with purple hands, she would spend the next week making Jam. The house use to be filled with that beautiful smell. Then to top it off, she would make bread.
She always made an extra loaf just for me. I loved to cut the end off and eat it out from the inside. Then eat the crust.
When I smell good jam or homemade bread, it always takes me back to those times.
Man that was living.
She always made an extra loaf just for me. I loved to cut the end off and eat it out from the inside. Then eat the crust.
When I smell good jam or homemade bread, it always takes me back to those times.
Man that was living.














