Sweet labor...bad timing

I know I come up with my share of wild ideas, but believe it or not, this time it wasn't me who said, "the sand plums are looking really good this year...we should make jelly."

But it was me who loaded up my kids & laughed with my friend as we braved barbed wire, mosquitoes, & thorns to harvest these sweet little plums.
I have no idea how many pounds of fruit we brought home, but when we were done (after a full days work), we had 44 pints & 24 jelly jars to show for our labor. We stood back & took a moment to appreciate how beautiful & plentiful it all looked. And as we finished the final batch, we anticipated relaxing on the couch for a while...

...until my dear husband walked through my front door with this...

Don't ask me how many pounds are there; I don't care. Don't tell me how wonderful apricot jam tastes; I don't care. Don't remind me that these sweet things are being saved from a certain fate as compost; I really don't care. And don't tell me I'm having a bad attitude, because...I don't care.

I think my husband sensed my distain...and my grouchiness. He enlisted the help of all the kids to pit them & get them ready for cooking.

And truth be told, because I care about my husband...I will help him make apricot jelly.