If I say the number on the scale is “just a number” when it goes up, why don’t I say the same when the number goes down?
Here I am again analyzing what I ate that would cause the scale to increase by .6, yes, half of a pound. It never ends.
Does it reside in my head past the weight check? Really, that’s all it is, it is a weight check.
No, I realize it doesn’t. There are so many factors that can cause it to shift. The delicious sourdough cinnamon raisin bread with butter I had after dinner last night comes to mind….
But I drink my coffee, fill my water bottle, and head out the door for my morning workout.
Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to childhood?
I grew up in a traditional household in the 60s and 70s. Sundays involved the 9:15 mass, picking up newspapers (New Haven Register, New York Daily News, Boston paper) with the possibility of a comic at Boylans, and a stop at my aunt’s house before we were home. Once home, we read the papers, and waited for Sunday Dinner which happened anywhere between Noon and 2 p.m. Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating, but some Sundays it felt like it was that late because everyone else was out playing while we were still waiting to eat!
Except for that rare Sunday when we got Kentucky Fried Chicken….
Kentucky Fried Chicken. There was a store across the street from our church that opened at noon. On those Sundays (usually during the summer), my mom would head back out to pick up a box or bucket. They would also get the cole slaw and mashed potatoes and gravy that went with it.
Oh that chicken! So crunchy and greasy. I probably ate it for the skin more for the chicken. You can have those big old chicken breasts at the bottom of the box or bucket! Give me a leg or thigh for that juicy dark meat. As a last resort, I’d eat the breast but I’d need a lot of cranberry sauce to wash it down.
My father would jokingly swear that the cole slaw tasted “just like ice cream” and I’m sure we choked it down. Not like now – I love cole slaw!
Stores still exist, but the one across from our church is long gone and it’s probably a good thing because, like anything else that tastes so delicious, that skin is not good for you!
The last time I had it was in 2022 when we were traveling in California to visit my father in law and we stopped to pick it up and bring it for a dinner with him. It was as good as I remembered it and I’m sure as I did every other time I ate it, I told my husband the stories of my families KFC Sunday dinners.
Here in Connecticut, it has rained at some point during 15 consecutive weekends. Maybe one day, maybe both days.
When we moved back here in 1995, me, the Connecticut native, told my husband, the California native to expect at least one day on a summer weekend to be rainy. I think I did pretty good with that assessment. Overall, this has been a Really Wet Year and it doesn’t look like much is changing.
Now that we are in “summer”, the humidity rises. And falls. And rises. I can handle it but my poor husband suffers from the Jekyll and Hyde atmospheric pressures. Vertigo, sinus conditions, headache – he’s had them all!
Do you have constantly changing weather where you live?
I know that ear worms are usually associated with songs but I have an ear worm of a poem running through my head:
Summer breezes softly blow Memories of long ago Happy places Smiling faces Loving you
It is from SO long ago, and from a random place that I’m not sure it’s exact so maybe I’ve made some parts my own over the years.
I started enjoying poems when I was in my early teens. In our local newspaper was a weekly section of reader submitted poems. Being a love obsessed teen, the poems of that type were right up my alley! I was also in the early stages of typing so I would sit on the floor of my room with my aunt’s portable typewriter and type out the poems I liked. It was a great way to practice, progressing from “hunt and peck” to “not hunting but still pecking” to straight up “no look typing”.
I kept them all in a small book of sayings (about love, of course) that I hung onto for years, moving it with me in my “box of treasures” where ever we lived. Unfortunately, in the course of “simplifying”, the box with this book and some other items got thrown out with the rest. I feel a little heartbroken about it and feel like it’s going to magically appear one day!
Are your ear worms mostly music or do you have a favorite poem that pops into your head too?
Worry and fear fly into the room and enter my brain at 4am. I should be enjoying the final hour and 15 minutes of a good night’s sleep but instead in find myself awake giving them the opening to appear.
Bills.business.life.health.travel.bills.job delays.bills. Over and over again.
I turn to my left side and recite the Lords Prayer. I try a little ‘God’s got me the palm of his hand‘. Nope.
I rotate like a pig on a spit to my right side. Happy memories? Upcoming adventures? Nope.
it’s 4:30. I realize the problem is, I’m THINKING. Everything involves my brain thinking. Turn it off.turn it off. It won’t shut off.
Then suddenly, I’m younger, alone and driving trying to get home. I don’t know where I am but (in the morning light), I think it’s in a town nearby. I’m driving up a hill, stop when I can’t go anymore and leave my car. Where do I go? Suddenly, I’m taking a yoga class. Then I’m at home with my husband and Vince Vaughn and his sister (?!) stop by to look at our house. She and I talk about needlepoint. I’m called away from yoga by my friend Sherri who died a few years ago to go see a young girl who was in the elementary school I worked at. When I go back, yoga is over so I pack up my belongings and suddenly I’m back at my car. People are picnicking in the area. I look over and my car door is open. Someone broke in but the people nearby say all they saw was people commenting about the car. I head over to look.
I hear a noise. It’s my alarm at 5:45am. I press the button on my phone to turn it off and lay there to calm the feeling in my body from the alarm.
New York, New York, what a wonderful town The Bronx is up and the Battery’s down! —from On Our Way with Gene Kelly
My first memory of visiting New York City is when I was maybe 7 or 8 years old. It was a Columbus Day trip with my mother, two sisters, aunt, and cousin and our destination was the Statue of Liberty.
We took the Metro North train out of New Haven and got on the subway heading to Battery Park. We were looking for the Bowling Green stop but how we missed it a few times! We probably headed into Brooklyn and then had to get back on in the direction we came from. We made it to the Statue and had a great time, and I got a pen in the gift shop with a floating statue.
The next time I traveled into the city it was with my sisters during Christmas time. Those trips bring back memories of Crabtree and Evelyn scents and Dansko clogs! We would visit Rockefeller Center to see the tree and shop.
Macy’sRockefeller TreeEmpire State Building
When I lived in California, I always raved about New York, and must have been incredibly obnoxious! San Francisco just didn’t compare.
After we moved back to Connecticut, my sisters and I would take our kids into the city to wander. We weren’t very comfortable on the subway – we didn’t want to get lost – so we dragged the kids all over the place on foot! One trip by the time we got the Met on 82nd Street, they were exhausted already! They were very happy when we were finally comfortable enough to take the subway.
My husband is now my favorite traveler to New York. We’ve gone for concerts and basketball games at Madison Square Garden, stayed a few days at a time to shop at Christmastime, and this year I’ve (dragged him along) taken him to a broadway play, with more to come.
Carnegie HallThe CloistersMSG
Today we headed in for a short trip to see the newly re-opened Frick Collection. We had an early lunch before our 12:30 check in. The museum isn’t very large so we saw all we needed to see in an hour. We were headed home on the 2:04pm train.
We’ll be back down there in early June with my husband’s aunt and uncle from California. Tickets have been purchased for a play (Six), tickets for the Vessel, and ideas ready for dinners. I can’t wait!
What’s your favorite place to visit and how often do you get there?
I always think I will be so productive because I get out of bed by 6am every morning. But that really has nothing to do with productivity because I’ve perfected the art of taking my time.
I feel the most productive when I make a list of what I want to do and what I have to do.
I find it amazing that I have so many “things” I want to do, yet I never work on them, because I don’t remember them in the moment. If I have a list, I can look and say “oh, I’ll do a little work on this”.
Tonight on Spring Baking Championship on HGTV, one of the challenges was for the bakers to elevate one of their favorite childhood desserts. That got me thinking about MY favorite childhood desserts.
My uncle on my mother’s side was a baker. I don’t know if he learned his trade in the army or by osmosis from my grandmother. He owned his own bakery for a few years and, after closing it, worked first at the local prep school, until finally settling in as the baker at Masonic Home and Hospital, a rehabilitation hospital and nursing home for people who were members of the Masonic Temple Association.
This man made the most INCREDIBLE baked goods. It’s amazing that he could make hundreds of desserts for the people at Masonic using these huge tubs for the dough and ovens to bake in and each one tasted as delicious as if it was one of only a dozen.
My favorites were his chocolate eclairs. They were all one piece filled with cream and delicious chocolate on top.
Chocolate Eclair (from the internet)
His cream puffs! Oh my word! Filled with delightful air pockets stuffed with cream.
Cream Puffs (internet photo)
He also made something called a Hermit Cookie. I found it quickly online. They were square bar cookies with ginger and molasses and raisins. One version I found is called New England Hermit Cookie Bar with the story that they date back to the Pilgrims and they were good for travel because they were dense and stayed moist for up to two weeks! Maybe his mother, my grandmother, brought the recipe with her when she immigrated from the Galician area of Poland in the early 1900s!
From thelemonbowl.com recipe
I do remember my uncle’s Hermit cookies being overall dark like the inside of this one.
In addition to his job and making desserts for family events, he made the wedding cakes for my mother, and for my cousin.
We did not have homemade desserts in our house. They were store bought cookies and pastries. My mother worked full time and she wasn’t really a baker, with the exception of the four layer chocolate cake with whipped cream filling and chocolate frosting we requested for our family birthday parties! She never said no! There would always be cake left over and we would eat that until there wasn’t a crumb left anywhere.
Thoughts From The Passenger Seat 