This is not a Betty Crocker-endorsed operation

The only simple explanation I can find for my recent 24-hour flurry of homemaking activity is that the high fever I had a month ago must've caused an important part of my brain to melt, and I was having some kind of delayed seizure-like spastic fit of Betty Crocker-y.

Why else, after half of a lifetime of avoiding this particular domestic pastime, would I suddenly construct my own homemade chokecherry syrup using only my own bare hands and a few rudimentary kitchen tools.

It's not normal.

Normally, I would pick the chokecherries then give them away to someone who would make use of them in a...