Just the kind of day we needed. Storms without lightning and plenty of sideways rain. It was actually cool. A good day to work in the kitchen. The picked huckleberries were turned into eight jars of Huckleberry Grand Marnier Preserves. Lisa said, if I count my fuel to the top of the mountain, minimum wage for the picking and the Grand Marnier, I’d have to charge $50 a jar just to break even. She is right, but when we crack a jar in December, when we are down to seven hours of light, and the summer sun mountain side comes rushing back, swatting mosquitoes, stepping over bear shit – the snow will be falling with no end in sight, but will be damned by the taste of the mountain jam, and it will all be worth it.