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Dear Mara

I called Mina today. Actually, she called me yesterday and the day before, and I called her back today.

She was telling me about pilgrimage and how amazing it was. And she told me that you sent a jar of marmalade, hand made from the oranges of the Ridvan garden? Wow! I told Daddy and he can't wait to taste it. I sort of feel like it should be only opened for a really special occasion, like Ayyam'i-Ha, and shared, one bite at a time with everyone I love.

Now we get to the wierd spot of blogs. I want to say more, but I don't know who is reading this, or who might read this. So if there is anyone I don't want to read something, basically I shouldn't be saying it, right? So, what do I put into blogs? And where is Mark's blog? I haven't heard from him in too long. So I guess I will just write you an email. You, too, Nae, and Rae too, even though I know you won't be reading it for a few days.

Love to all of you (including you, Mensch. I just am not going to email you.) This has been a fabulous year for Cindy's black raspberries and she is sick of picking, so I have been reaping the bounty. Our red raspberries are just starting to ripen, but the golden ones won't really be ready to pick until next year. The bushes need to strengthen. Or at least that is what the garden book says.

Comments

So, err, where's the email...?

I think you should have dinner with the Malakootis & Twaddells or something like that and hear about their pilgrimage. They should have pictures for you, too. :-)

As for the orange marmalade, don't make it so precious that you never eat it. I may very well be able to get you more, but then, if it turns out you don't like it that could be rather disappointing, no?

Let me know!

Speaking of homemade preserves...how's that grape jam? WE wanted to make peach pie but in the week it took us to move in, all the peaches fell from the tree. Next year!

Too early for grape jam. September or so. Plenty of time to get it made before you get here. Bring and extra bag, but you know that.

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