Goosed

I was grocery shopping last week and came across Gooseberry Jam on the PB&J aisle. I haven't seen gooseberry jam since I was a kid at my grandparents' house. Our grandma used to make the most outstanding jams and jellies, but gooseberry jam really stands out in my mind. I think because it was, quite possibly, the most repulsive looking food I ever let past my lips and then ended up LOVING! I always thought of frog eggs when I looked at gooseberry jam - like plump frog eggs suspended in a gel - but tasty! In a fit of nostalgia, I purchased...

And this morning, I used it to top a warm, fluffy, buttermilk pancake, just like we used to do at Grandma and Grandpa's house. I have to say that my first impression upon opening the jar was that it looked all wrong. Grandma's was more translucent with a slight light green tint, while this is sort of a brownish yellow. At least it's staying true to the "not appealing to look at" quality that Grandma's had. Hero's gooseberry jam is all mashed up and mixed together, while Grandma's retained more of the whole gooseberry goodness. And the taste of Hero's... well... not the same. I think Grandma's must have been a little sweeter. And tasted less bad. And without this strange aftertaste that seems to linger an hour after consumption. (I'll go brush my teeth soon, I promise). So this walk down food-memory lane was a bit of a disappointment, but makes me appreciate Grandma's culinary feat with that crazy little berry even more than before.

And in other Goose news... This weekend, hubby took our boy out for a bike ride this weekend while I took the girl out to choose goodie bags (and goodies!) for her upcoming bday party. (N. and I had quite a nice time out, btw). When we all returned home I noticed that A. had a big scrape on his elbow, so I asked him about.

Me: "A. where'd you get that big scrape on your elbow? Did it happen on your bikeride?"

A: (one hand on his hip, other hand flips out, palm up - those of you who know him in person know just how he talks with his hands!) "Well (pause) I'll tell you. It was a goose."

Me: (certain I'd heard incorrectly) "A goose?"

A: "Yes. A goose! I was standing with my elbow like this (hands on his hips), and the goose bit me!"

Me: "Wow! Really? Did you cry?"

A: "No. Well, yes. It surprised me!"

I always knew geese were no good. Dumb parks, overrun with waterfowl... sheesh. Some goose is gonna get it now. Nobody attacks my children and gets away with it. Dang. Looks like now the war is on with Spittle Bugs AND Geese. If Nature crosses me too many more times, I'll have to write it all down to keep track, LOL!