So Long, and Thanks For All The Jam February 15 2019, 3 Comments

Is a poorly-executed Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference the appropriate title for a goodbye note? Maybe not? Or maybe it's perfect. Really, who has the time to think about it.

If you're still reading, thank you. Thank you, because you're probably one of the wonderful, sweet, kind, jam-loving, generous people who has supported Plum Tree Jam and me (hi, it's Miranda) since 2014. 

It's Been a Wild Ride. 

We've won Good Food Awards, been featured in lovely publications like Saveur, Food & Wine, The Wall Street Journal, Imbibe Magazine and more. What. The. Heck. The idea that all of those people thought that our jams were (literally) worth writing home about still really makes me dizzy with pride and gratefulness. 

A deeper love for our Portland-area farmers markets, as you know, is maybe my biggest takeaway from all of this. I hope it's yours, too.

Oh hang on. I am getting ahead of myself here. Let me cut to the chase. (Are you still reading? Really? Woah. Thank you!)

This is Me, Saying That Plum Tree Jam is Ending. 

And it's OK. I'm not sad about it anymore. I was really sad about it last year—before I knew for sure that it was ending—because I couldn't seem to give Plum Tree enough time, and things started to slip through my fingers. It was frustrating, painful and sad.

I had a baby (as you probably know) and a whole lot changed. The meaning of time changed. At least, it did for me. Time became unbelievably finite—more precious than ever. Simply, there was never enough of it to be found or bought. And Plum Tree suffered. Sweet wholesale clients waited days for responses when it used to be hours. Newsletters became few and far between. What used to be my Beyoncé-level hustle became my scattered, unfocused, desperate scramble. 

I was trying to hold an ocean of water in a fine-mesh sieve. It didn't work. I'm not sure if these numbers—the "buying good, responsibly farmed fruit and using it to make pectin-free jam by hand" numbers—work, period. But what I do know is that when my life changed and I could no longer give 12 hours a day, seven days a week with almost no pay, Plum Tree stopped working. 

My Mom and my husband deserve particular thanks—and they just might be the only two people who read this in its entirety anyway. Hi, guys. Sorry I let you down. I know you'll say that I didn't let you down, because you're great like that, but I feel a little bit like I did. And I'm sorry this didn't work out. Thank you for being there for everything. Their support has been unwavering, loving, and (most of all!!) financial in nature.  My whole family, really. My step-mom was a devoted jam purchaser and she and my Dad carried it to Japan regularly—telling me how loved it was and encouraging me at every step. 

I'll miss you guys. But I'll be out here, and I like the thought that you're all still out there, too. I'll still be making jam in the summers for myself and for friends & family, and I'll be writing stuff about food and drink (like I used to). You can follow along if you'd like to.

If we ever run into each other, and you're out of jam, I will gladly give you a jar. 

Keep it up, jam-lovers. And thank you. 

Miranda & the Plum Tree Jam family