Yet again, our international fan base saves the day. Yesterday’s entry detailed the mediocracy of the jam selection in Casa Pepina. Within hours Pepino S., the author of these words, received a can of homemade strawberry preserves. The jar was sent from as far away as across the street, Rue Relish. La Criada, our nieghbor and Pepinita’s daycare provider (she provides care during the day), read my plea and promptly sent her daughter, Zanahoria, to our stoop with a jar of the sticky condiment. I am forever in their debt. My hat is off to them, as I bare my bald pate to the sun that kisses the dimpled fruit called fresa. Now that’s jam.