Owowcow

Decadent Toffee – Day 949

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The Toffee About Which This Is Written – Photo: L. Weikel

Decadent Toffee

Sometimes we need a little help from our friends to get a job accomplished. And my job tonight is to follow through on my nightly devotion and fulfill my Act of Power on behalf of my son Karl. Surely you might think if all I have to do is write something – anything! – each night, then meeting my obligation should be easy. But trust me, that’s an illusion. And that is where the help of my friends, and in this case, decadent toffee, comes in.

There’s no minimum number of words required or specific topics that demand coverage. So what’s the big deal, you might ask? Staying awake. Thinking of something to write about within the vast ocean of life. (It’s harder than you might think.)

Searching For Indulgence

I try not to indulge in my vices too often but sometimes it’s unavoidable. Hmm. Re-reading that sentence, I’m compelled to clarify: The truth is, I try not to write about indulging my vices too often!

If I do a keyword search of my blogs, though, I discover that I’ve mentioned chocolate something like 27 times and Owowcow ice cream at least five times. I have a sneaking suspicion that I must’ve screwed up on that in some way. It seems beyond comprehension that I only mentioned Owowcow 5 times in over 900 posts. Even if I’ve tried to curb my tendency to write about my indulgences – that seems rather unbelievable.

Makes me think I should search the more generic term: ice cream.

Never Mind

Yeah…never mind. I just did said search and, not surprisingly, 33 posts were referenced. But I’m claiming skepticism on this. For instance, I re-read one of the posts that came up under the search term ‘ice cream’ (a post entitled “Double Icing”) and for the life of me, I don’t see that I mentioned ice cream once in that post.

Perhaps I’m distracted by all the talk of cake and icing in that post. After all, the whole point to this post this evening is the fact that I’m so tired that the only way I’m keeping my eyes open at this point is by savoring a few gooey, finger-licking pieces of utterly sinful toffee my kids left on my kitchen table the last time they visited.

Oh. My. Goodness.

Success! Sort Of?

It’s time for bed. I’ve mostly only succeeded in doing a bit of re-con on the posts I’ve written that might qualify me for an Oral Fixation Award.

I do want to give a shout out to Sage and Sarah, though. The toffee got me to the other side tonight. It’s delicious, it’s sinful, the caffeine in the chocolate and the sugar throughout were beyond yummy and helped keep me focused. Sort of.

Note: I did not finish the box. The decadent toffee depicted in the photo above may be somewhat diminished – but self-control was exercised in the writing of this post.

(T-162)

Pollen Fog – Day 557

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Goldfinches? Or are they chickadees covered in pollen? – Photo: L. Weikel

Pollen Fog

Oh my. The trees are in full bloom here and the chartreuse layer of tree sperm covering absolutely everything outside, especially the glass top tables on my porch, is putting me in a pollen fog.

And the weirdest thing is, I’m (luckily and gratefully) not experiencing too terrible of allergy symptoms. That’s to say, my sinuses are ok so far, my nose is only running a little, and my throat doesn’t hurt.

But I have to say, my appetite is insatiable, and it’s making me nuts. Eat nuts, that is. I really don’t think it’s simply the stress of the pandemic, either. I’ve blamed that for a variety of oral fixations, including an uncontrollable tendency to eat more peanuts in a sitting than I cram into the ‘peanut coil’ I use to dispense legumes to my feathered friends.

Indeed, I was really controlling myself and my peanut fixation after I ate too many and lamented about it in a post. I was doing really well until, well, just tonight. <<sigh>>

Sad Start to Second Half

I don’t know what came over me. I was sitting here with the tv turned off, the sound of the whole house fan thrumming the air and drawing in some major cool breezes that just taunt me into wanting to crawl under the covers and go to bed.

Instead, I was sitting here trying to think of something new or different that I could write about, even though I could feel myself succumbing to the land of heavy eyelids. So what did I do? I caved. I mowed through a bunch of peanuts. I finished up a half pint of Owowcow Cashew Carmel ice cream. I even broke into a Salted Almond chocolate bar for good measure.

Goddess help me.

New Moon

It’s as if I made it halfway through my 1111 Devotion and I’m suddenly dropping the ball and coming up dry again.

Tomorrow is a new moon. As I’ve encouraged a million times over, it’s yet another opportunity to start fresh, plant new seeds, take up a new charge within our lives.

I’m going to once again step away from the peanuts and get myself up to bed. I have lots of things I actually would love to write and chat with all of you about.

Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day. I hope it is for all of us. No matter how super fantastic a day you may have had today, I hope tomorrow is even better.

Plant those seeds. Be careful out there. Don’t risk being a silent spreader: wear a mask. Maybe it’ll even help with the pollen!

(T-554)

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday – Day 494

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Anonymous Representative of Coronavirus Birthday Celebrants Everywhere

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday. Well, there’s a mouthful for you. What a day.

I gave birth to a certain someone 32 years ago today. Alas, the 19thof March was not the spring equinox that year, which definitely would’ve made the day even more sacred than it already his arrival certainly made it for me. But on the upside, there wasn’t a pandemic stampeding across the globe, with nary a facemask or bottle of hand sanitizer in sight.

Festivity Buzzkill

I have to say, this social distancing, and in some cases social isolation, is a festivity buzzkill. All in service to the preservation of mankind, though, which I totally support and appreciate.

However – and Karl will back me up on this I’m sure – we need to implement new rules with respect to pandemic birthdays. Why? Because when we’re forced to forego actually being together and celebrating as a family, somebody always ends up a LOSER.

Since we live fairly close to each other, we’ve frequently had the chance to celebrate birthdays with the “CVEB-Boy” as the years have gone by. All – every single one –has involved a sharing of cake (unless one or the other of us was out of town or otherwise indisposed).

All have involved birthday cake, most often of the Aunt Carol’s Cake variety.

This time, though, because of our adherence to the CDC and Commonwealth of Pennsylvania’s Guidance on maintaining social distancing, we found ourselves in a particularly difficult spot.

The Police song “Don’t Stand So Close to Me” kept repeating in a never-ending loop in my head, while my tastebuds yearned to be rewarded for my efforts not only in birthing a 9 lb. 4 oz. baby 32 years ago but also in baking a chocolate cake in the midst of a pandemic.

I risked my life buying butter and powdered sugar for that icing.

Proof of Love

You’ve heard the expression, “proof of life,” in kidnap situations? Well, I feel like I delivered proof of love instead.

This is what I delivered to the doorstep of my middle son this afternoon. In the midst of a pandemic.

Coronavirus Birthday Treats – Photo: L. Weikel

So, you tell me. (And yes, that’s three flavors of Owowcow ice cream, too). Even in the midst of a pandemic, when the meme above is (sadly but hilariously) representative of all  those celebrating birthdays around the world in these troubled times, I think we can all agree on one thing: this guy (my guy) scored. Big time.

Especially since he didn’t have to share any of it with us!

I hope you had a great birthday, Middle Son. Your personal anniversary, on the equinox no less, is especially precious this year. I hope we’ll be able to share the treats next year. In person.

(T-617)

Perfection – Day Ninety Five

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Perfection

In spite of the fact that we’ve technically moved on from the ‘I’m a Fridgit’ debacle of 41 years ago, its legacy lives on. As I tried to convey yesterday, regardless of the fact that we’ve experienced a handful that were relatively OK, both Karl and I maintain a leery, if healthy, stance toward Valentine’s Day.

A good motto: Don’t take anything for granted, and keep expectations really low.

To that end, Karl made a play today on his quirky first gift of years gone by. (I suspect being outed in yesterday’s post may have had an impact; although I’m not sure.)

Staying In and Keeping it Simple

We’d already decided we were going to stay in for the evening (going out to dinner being an unappealing option for a plethora of reasons). So to spice things up, and in spite of our surprisingly consistent vegetarian dietary choices, I picked up two pieces of gorgeous fresh tuna from our favorite fishmonger, Buckingham Valley Seafood.

Luckily for me, Karl only the day before yesterday expressed an interest in reading a book I’d read back in my train days, Dreaming the Eagle, by Manda Scott. It was the first in what was supposed to be a trilogy, but apparently became a quartet (the Boudica: Dreaming series). I remember being captivated by it and eagerly looking forward to the next in the series. But then, before I became aware of the Dreaming the Bull being written, I stopped commuting and my book consumption, regrettably, plummeted drastically. (Let’s face it: I just plum forgot.)

In looking up Dreaming the Eagle, I saw that I wouldn’t be able to get it delivered in time for today’s festivities, so I checked to see if it was in our library, and it was! So I put it on hold last night and picked it up this afternoon. SCORE! And just like with the Foundation trilogy I gave to Karl so many years ago, we’ll both benefit. I’ll read this book (again) after he finishes it – and then maybe we’ll savor the rest in the series together, too.

Another Risky Gift

Perhaps reading my mind, or maybe inspired by my blog post last night resurrecting our Fridgit  fiasco, Karl came home from a business trip this evening and, upon entering the house, was obviously holding something behind his back. He laughed and said he’d taken another risk…

Revealing a brown paper bag with “Owowcow” printed on it (woohoo!), he carefully took out a pint, covered the writing on the top, and started to explain. Before he got a word out, I blurted, “They have a new flavor! I read about it on Facebook. Oooh! I hope you got it!” (Note: I’d not been back to Owowcow since my indulgence back in December, which you might recall…)

He laughed, but didn’t yet reveal. “I saw there was a flavor I’d never heard of before, and I asked to try it,” he said, squinching up his face in obvious distaste. “Ick. I didn’t like it,” he laughed. “It wasn’t sweet enough.”

My eyes lit up. This sounded promising.

“So I figured, Lis’ll probably love it. So I got it.” And with that, he brandished the pint with a flourish.

YES. He’d bought his Little Fridgit a pint of ice cream:

Perfection. Right down to the name! (And as you can see, I couldn’t eat a bite.)

(T-1016)

Ice Cream Confession – Day Twenty (T-1091)

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Ice Cream Confession

Oh my Goddess, I should never have eaten that ice cream. I made the mistake last night of rewarding myself for – I don’t even know what, getting through the week? – by swinging past Owowcow and buying two pints of ice cream. All natural, organic-where-possible, locally-sourced ingredients in this hand-crafted ice cream, folks. It is good stuff.

I haven’t had any for quite a while (at least several weeks). But after my session with my client yesterday, I was seized with the brilliant idea that I should pop in to see if they had any unique flavors on offer – perhaps with a holiday theme.

As I drove up Route 412, at first I thought they might be closed. But as I approached the traffic light which marks its place on the map, I was beckoned by the soft amber light cascading out of the store’s picture windows. It felt like an oasis in the dark of the gloomy, starless night.

I took pity on the high schoolers tending ice cream bar last night; clearly they needed someone from the community to stop and make their employment worthwhile. I was their only customer; it was my responsibility to make a purchase. A pint of candy cane chocolate chip and another of espresso came home with me. The former flavor definitely unique to the holiday; the latter not. But I can’t remember the last time I had coffee ice cream, much less espresso. It called to me.

Funny, though – once I got home and made dinner, I didn’t bring it out. I didn’t even mention it to Karl, nor did I think about it for myself. I almost forgot about it.

But tonight? Well, that was a different story. Karl fell asleep on the couch fairly early and I was left to my own devices. I could hear the rain pouring down outside, the night once again cold and opaque.

I thought about my pick for the day (you knew that was coming, right?), and had to chuckle. Hardly any introspective spin to this tale. Nope. I’d chosen Rabbit reversed/Bat.

Hmm. Rabbit. Fear. Right side up, it’s a frustrating and not entirely unfamiliar story of being rejected. And then cursed. Not pretty. When it’s reversed, though, I like to focus on this recommendation:

“Take a hint from Rabbit. Burrow into a safe space to nurture yourself and release your fears until it is time again to move into the pasture, clear of prowlers who wasn’t a piece of your juicy energy.”

I didn’t feel like I was in danger, but I did feel like curling up into a soft, warm burrow and nurturing myself with ice cream. And Bat underneath? Well, I do feel as though I am dying to an old way of life and birthing something new. Not sure what yet, but it can be scary.

And now my tummy hurts. And it’s approaching midnight. And I realize all I’ve done is lament my indulgence – and justified it by my card pick this morning. Ugh. Gross.

But it was tasty. And that evil Owowcow deliciousness…the creamy delicacy melts ever so slowly and you just have to keep smoothing it off with your spoon, you know? Until all of a sudden you realize you’ve evened it out almost to the bottom of the container.