Jam, strawberry jam.

In the Balkans April is too early for strawberries. Yet there they were in the super market, at the next door grocery, at the market. Imported from Turkey. Obviously industrial by size and shape but with their vibrant red colour they broke the monotony of orange and yellow of the citrus fruits and the revered bananas.
Head said: 'They positively resemble GMO'.
Heart said:' But they smell of strawberries, not all of them are the same size and shape. Oh...how I crave them...'
Head was too busy elsewhere and I gave in to temptation. I bought a can.
I ate a few and the rest were happily stored in the fridge.
Few days later when turbulence gave way to calmness I found my strawberries in the fridge on the verge of going off. Inspired by other recent events I decided to preserve them. I didn't know that making jam was so easy. The recipes I consulted asked for a one to one ratio of strawberries and sugar, but an expert jam maker advised on using one to half (one strawberries  half sugar) and so I cooked the jam, removed the foam, let it sit and packed it in a small jar. Who would say it was that simple...