Long Lost Kin

 A man pulled up to the farm today.  I decided to walk out to meet him on the screened in porch to avoid startling the baby with our loud knocker or having to hear the door bell that was installed yesterday (after sitting in the box for six months we finally attached it to the wire sticking out of the wall for eight years–who needs a doorbell in the country with a bloodhound and german shepherd heralding visitors as they turn down our quarter-mile long drive? it sounds so dinky I would rather not hear it)  back to the man, He was mapping route for the fiber optic cable coming to our “middle of somewhere” farm!  OH how uploading photos in seconds rather than hours will make me smile!  Dwayne was his name and he hailed from Missouri where his wife was busy picking buckets of organic green beans which she sells to restaurants in St. Joseph.  While he explained the watering system he built for this garden and how they were having a bumper crop of many tasty treats I realized he was family.  I did not do bloodwork-no come on it is my little girl who wants to be a doctor so she can take blood from kids and send it home with them not me!  But this man is my family–I told him so–he looks like my uncle V.  Dwayne agreed we are probably family–you see my Grandpa and Grandma come from homesteading families that homesteaded near his family ground.  Who needs genealogies to look into the eyes of a stranger and know you are kin–so I gave him a jar of my sandhill plum jelly.  don’t I sound quaint.  I ‘fessed up that I canned it last year when the plums were good because you never know when you will have a good crop and there is none this year sue to the drought–that drought more on surviving that later.  I was afraid that he could look into my eyes and see that I am not a country girl so I qualified my canning by telling him I was walked through the process by dear Neenee a good friend from church.  I didn’t want him to waste it.  He told me about his wife’s peach butter and I started to salivate–he must have noticed because he offered to have her write it down for me–but I am talking to the man who is going to bring me super speed internet and my brain proves smart again–I give him my email! So dear sweet wife of Dwayne I am awaiting that recipe but secretly hoping you email me a jar because I really do not can!  (hey I just thought of this–I can not!!haha.  Get it Can Not.  I should never say you can’t can but I can say you Can not!) it is past my bed time.   Good night sister.  Let me add my unedited proof that I can can.  Just not while I do the can can–those photos may follow someday. Plum: something excellent esp: something desirable given in return for a favor I gave the man my plum jelly in return for being family and reestablishing my hope that superspeed internet is on its way!  Little Jack Horner sat in a corner eating his Christmas Pie.  He stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum and said ___ _ ___ ___ __ _!  I will send a jar of my sand hill plum jelly to the first one to answer this–if you are brave enough to try it.