The fig tree

There is a fig tree in my backyard that my husband planted the year we bought the house, in 1979, from a cutting his mother gave him in a coffee can. It is taller than the roof now, and every July it drops more figs than two people and a whole flock of mockingbirds can eat.

So I make preserves. Four pounds of ripe figs, stems cut off, quartered. Two pounds of sugar. One lemon, sliced thin, seeds out. Let it all sit together overnight so the sugar pulls out the juice. In the morning, cook it low for about an hour and a half, stirring now and then, until it is thick and dark and a spoonful holds its shape on a cold saucer.

Ladle it into clean hot jars, leave a quarter inch at the top, and process them in a boiling water bath for ten minutes. If you have never canned before, read the next chapter first. I would rather you take your time than get it wrong.