Confessions of a First-time Jam Maker

I have never had aspirations to become a jam-maker, or canner, and I have no pantry. I only made wine out of necessity, and it was never very good.  However, we have a wild grape vine growing 120 feet along the edge of our property. It is very old and, being a male, bears no grapes. Or so I thought. Wild grape is either male or female. The male produces small clusters of flowers that resemble small bunches of grapes, but they never turn into fruit. It grows quickly and needs lots of pruning because it threatens to take over the back yard.
I was doing some weeding beneath its leafy bulk when I came upon what looked like a small cluster of seed pods growing along the vine.

After some internet searching I found out that it was neither a seed pod, nor part of the grape vine. It is a gall, which the plant produces to surround insect larva. Sure enough, I opened one to find a squirming worm-like creature inside. These larva will eat themselves out, and hatch much like aliens from the inside of a living host.  No one knows why the plant provides this case, but somehow it protects both the insect and the plant.
With this knowledge I was suddenly struck by the idea of an insect invasion and rushed out to check the vine for more gall.  Instead I found grapes, bunches of grapes hidden inside the dense leafy growth. Some part of this vine must be female! What a discovery! I wondered how many years these grapes had been hanging there unnoticed. No longer. I would put them to good use.
My first thought was to make wine. But I quickly ruled this out because I have some experience with other wild grape wines.  They are not very palatable, and the wine-maker I talked to told of taking weeks gathering the small grapes to make any amount of wine.

So that is where I got the idea to make wild grape jam. I was determined, if not very experienced. I looked up recipes and found that I probably should use pectin. Pectin was quite easy to find, right next to the jam jars and pickling spice. 
It took me all morning to pick the grapes. They are small and hanging deep inside a mesh of tangles vines.  No bird would ever find the bunches. When I had a large bowl full I went about washing and separating the grapes from the stems. This took me another couple of hours. I threw away the wizen raisin like ones, and those that looked too green. Now I had considerably less in the bowl, and plenty of dark blue stains on my fingers.
It was necessary to boil the lot to make grape juice. At this point I realized I was probably going about this the wrong way. 

I really didn't know what I was doing, and was treating it more like doing an experiment in the lab, than cooking. I should have asked a jam-maker for help, or at least for some advice. But I prefer to experiment alone, because if the result is a disaster, I simply throw it all away and no one else is the wiser. 
The accounts that I read on-line varied greatly as to reducing the grapes to juice. I boiled the fruit until it resembled seeds sitting in a pulpy mess. And since I didn't have cheese cloth I resorted to pushing the whole mass through a colander.  I ended up with about 2 cups of juice in a bowl and another cup all over the counter.  Wild grape really stains, by the way. And I was ready to make a very small batch of jam (or jelly in the US).

After adding sugar and pectin, and a little water to augment the amount, I left the jam boiling on the stove.  Perhaps unwisely, I wandered outside to check my cucumbers. My flower garden is in full bloom with lilies and phlox and daisies.  I lingered, appreciating beauty which I had no part in making.  I returned to the kitchen to find grape jam everywhere.  It pooled on the stovetop, ran down the cabinets and splattered the floor. I spent the next hour cleaning up. Who knew jam making was so messy. And produced so little, only two jars to show for all my hard work.  I fully understand why jam-making is a thing of the past. Who has the time?
To my surprise, the jam had a strong tangy flavor

and jelly-like consistency.  I had done it! I had made edible jam! My sons are not too sure. They think I am trying to poison them with wild berries.
With this minor success under my belt I decided to try again.  What else did I have in my garden that needed using? My son begged me not to make zucchini jam, so that left rhubarb. I also had some cheap past-their-best strawberries going moldy in the fridge. I followed a recipe I found on line, and avoided the mistakes I made the first time. I pulled up armfuls of rhubarb and then went back to pull up more. I added no water or pectin this time, just lemon juice and sugar. And I supervised the boiling process much more closely.
As before I produced a sticky jam with a beautiful color and sharp taste... and less that the two jarfuls that I had hoped for. It should take no time to eat through.  I won't need a pantry or more jars after all. I confess that I made jam just to see if I could; but mainly, I made jam in order not to let my newly discovered wild grape be forgotten or ignored on the vine.
**Now if anyone has any great ideas of what to do with all my zucchini...