Summertime, and the livin' is friggin easy

We moved into this house last fall, so this is my first harvest of our new-to-us blueberry bushes. I picked three containers of this size full of blueberries today, leaving plenty of greenies behind for a second picking.

Hope you like blueberry pancakes. They're on the menu for the next, oh, year.

I've never been much of a fruit preserving type, even though I come from a long line of preserving pros. It just seems that it's such a lot of work, always on the hottest day of the year, for a couple of jars of sweet goo that my college nutrition professor told me had most of the nutritional bonuses cooked out of it. And, although home-cooked jam from Grandma disappears before it ever leaves its sticky mark in my fridge, I find the grocery-store kind quite handy and affordable.

Okay, if I really liked jam, I'm sure I would be in there with the heat and jars and the pectin and whatnot, but to tell you the truth, I'm not a fan. So there you are. It's a matter of pure selfishness that I don't make preserves for my family, because I simply don't care for them. Look at me! I found a new guilt today! What did you find?