Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Six Degrees of Chocolate Bacon

A few weeks ago, Computer Geek, Weston, and I traveled out of town to eat at Denny's. It's about thirty minutes away so we make the trip only once every year or two.

After our typical lunch of sandwiches and fries, I set my eye upon the dessert menu. Was I hungry? Is hunger ever a prerequisite for dessert?

My typical dessert choices fall in the ice cream/fudge/cheesecake realm. This day, for some crazy reason, I was ready for something new. Something like ice cream. And fudge. And caramel.

AND BACON!

What? Bacon is now a dessert item? I fell for it like a bungee jumper at the Victoria Falls Bridge.

Yes, that is BACON gracing the top of that ice cream. Caramel-drizzled bacon.
I'm getting weak just looking at it

If you've never tried bacon as a dessert item, I encourage you to be brave. The bite of salty bacon combined with the smooth sweetness of fudge brownie and ice cream is sure to make you scoff at Abercrombie and Fitch employees. Who needs to shop at the Mecca for the physically elite when you can partake of this divine creation? Think Peanut Buster Parfait. Think Mr. Goodbar. Think Salted Nut Roll.

I'm thinking. Thinking it just may be worth another thirty minute drive.





Monday, May 6, 2013

The Entertainment Value of Tape

The grandkids were over recently and I was running out of things for them to do. They preferred to play Mario Kart on the Wii (Avatar) and Dora on nickjr.com (Chunk,) but I know their mother and she would not be happy if I sent her boys back home as zombie mush heads.

Being the proud Pinterest addict that I am, surely I could come up with something to keep these young men detached from electronic devices. I thought of putting them to work but then they would never want to come over again. I could feed them yet another snack, since almost 47 minutes had elapsed since their last one. Finally, something I had re-pinned on Pinterest pinged in my brain. Tape!

We all know from our experiences with kids and birthday presents that the box holds just as much fascination as the gift. Well, I 'm here to tell ya that tape works just as well as a box.

I had Weston pull out his old Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars while I got busy with a roll of tape. The little guys kept asking, "Grandma, what are you doing?"

"You'll see," I said, sporting a crooked grin and a slanty eyebrow.

As I worked across the floor, they soon caught my vision.

My living room became a city and strips of tape became a parking lot.
Weston, AKA The Flash, realized I had my camera and didn't want anyone knowing he was playing with his cars. Ha ha ha!  Too late! I hope all your teen-age friends see this!

You could mark off rooms for Barbies if you're not into Hot Wheels, or you could make a giant tic-tac-toe, using humans as markers. Em once used some tape to make a hopscotch grid on her living room floor.

You know what was even more fun for the boys than playing with tape-outlined roads? Ripping it all up!


Wednesday, May 1, 2013

May Day, May Day!



May 1, 196x, Iowa.  I was a young girl, less than ten years old. After school I found a small parcel hanging on our front door knob with my name on it. Inside a folded-paper basket was some popcorn, a few pieces of penny candy, and a hand-picked violet.  My mother explained the concept of May Day to me and asked me if I knew who left it. I had no idea.

Good thing. She explained that if I had seen the person, I would be expected to run after him and kiss him. Yuk! I’m sure I wondered for days who could have left that May basket for me. Now, I’m sure it was probably my own mother.

When Em and Kay were small, they received their own May baskets. Frequently, we would arrive home from work and the babysitter’s to find small baskets made from paper cups and stuffed with popcorn and candy. Of course we never knew who left them; the act had been done hours before. We would drop my work bag and their back packs on the dining room table and get busy arranging our own May baskets and making clandestine deliveries.

April 30, 1998, Utah. I mentioned to someone that I needed to go buy some paper cups and candy so I could make May Day baskets. “What’s May Day?” I was incredulous that someone did not know about the holiday and was certain that his lack of knowledge was based on poor upbringing. I went to the store, expecting to see a section devoted to scores of different bulk Brach’s candy—the stuff of which all good May Day baskets were filled. Just like in Iowa.

Nope. “Do you have May Day candy?” I asked the clerk.
“Huh?”

[It was an eerie repeat of six weeks before when I had gone to three different local florists inquiring about their green carnations for St. Patrick’s Day. “You need WHAT?” they all said. Yeah, no one in Utah celebrated the wearing of the green either. Apparently Utahns were all Scandinavian and English. So yeah, no Irish stuff.]

May 1, 2013, Utah.  I long ago learned that “if it’s to be, it’s up to me.” I haven’t really ever stopped making May baskets, or having hope that I would find something on my door.  Today, it’s Weston and Computer Geek who are my accomplices. I’ll leave the recipients unnamed, in case they read this blog and are forewarned for next year.

Spiffy spring-themed cup. Check.
Caramel popcorn. Check.
Tootsie Roll Midgets. Oh yeah!
Cinnamon Bears. Naturally.
M&M's. Drool.
And something I never had as a child--flavored straws!

All the baskets ready for take-off.

Weston in stealth mode.

Retreat! Someone's on the porch!

Later today, there was a knock at our door!

The May Fairy left us warm pumpkin bread. It was divine.

Happy May Day to you and may it signal the end of snow!
(I won't hold my breath.)

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