Earlier today, I made a batch of cherry-rhubarb-hibiscus jam. It's a recipe I made up last summer after creating my rhubarb-cherry-hibiscus crumble; the latter was so tasty, it seemed I simply had to try and turn it into a preserve so that its flavors could last throughout the year. It was a success, and I now have five new half-pints for my basement store. Today I used both Bing and Ranier cherries, both of which I find, when they're plump and fresh, heavenly. They're pretty, aren't they?

I then ordered new photos of the boys - on my to-do list for months!- so that I can update my frames. If you looked around our home, you'd think I had two toddlers on my hands. Though it sometimes feels that way, such is not the case. I was putzing around accomplishing other things when my dear pal, M, texted: "can I bring you some basil?"

"Um, yes!"

And by the way, I say ba-sil, not bay-sil. Both, FYI, are correct pronunciations, so even though T and Jack mock my preferred short 'ba', I'm going with it. #southern

A bouquet of fragrant, just-picked Genovese was soon mine, and after plucking the stems bare, I found I had three packed cups. Obviously, pesto. I added a half-cup of mint, about a quarter-cup of toasted pine nuts, the zest of a lemon, a half-cup of grated Parm, two cloves of garlic, salt and olive oil. Pesto is such a dynamite sauce. I too often forget about it, so standard and regular it often seems. But good pesto is an exquisite thing, and I'm thrilled to have this new batch.