House full of sickies
Name something that’s easy to catch, hard to get rid of, and often shared; You guessed it, the flu, or any kind of sickness for that matter. Everyone knows how brutally any virus spreads amongst a school full of children. Children that seldom wash hands and often put them places they ought not be. Well in a large family, a virus spreads much the same way. Only one of us has to catch it and then we can share it with everyone in the house. We are givers, that’s what we do. It’s funny how it spreads in our house. Usually one person gets it and is miserable for days, then just when they get better one or two people get it, and as they are getting better the rest of us get it. I call it sickness by thirds. I can’t recall a time when we all got sick at exactly the same time, unless you count the bad Chinese food.
Of course the reason I am blogging about this now is that we are currently fighting this battle, and this is a pretty good one; 3-4 days of high fevers, hacking, coughing, vomitting and crying. The crying is me because I keep getting my sleep interrupted by sick pitiful children begging mom for help. So far, every time we have been capabable of battling through the other side, stronger for it. I believe this time will be no different, although the rest of the family will have to contend with a grouchy bear of a dad if I don’t get some sleep one of these nights.
two sickies doing what sickies do
I find it pretty amazing that no matter when you share the story of your families sickness, it is almost always met with the ” I heard that is going around” comment. The odd thing is I heard that even with the bad chinese food. None-the-less, I have heard that this is going around right now.
The chink in our armor is Tra. You see any one of us can get sick and things just move along quite peachy. But when mom is sick, that’s when the whole system starts to fall apart. Mom’s are nurturing, loving, caring, healing, loving, nurturing, you get the point. Dads; “suck it up and walk it off. Have you sat on the pot yet? Gargle some salt water and it will be all better. Try to throw up quieter, I can’t hear the TV, and it will help you fell better too.” Not a lot of sympathy or nurturing, but lots of loving, tough loving. The irony is if dads get sick we need the most of mom’s qualities than any other member of the household. For some reason the sickness always hits the dads the hardest and makes us the sickest. I’m sure it has something to do with body weight, the heavier the victim the more intense the Illness. It makes us almost immobile, and causes whining sounds emit from our vocal cords. We are nearly paralyzed with pain, needing to be waited on hand an foot. Our every need tended to by the most nurturing, loving person in the house. However, I have noticed she must be taking notes on my style, because the last time my medicine was a dose of ” get up and take a shower,you’ll feel better, and you smell”. Nurturing and tough love at its best.
A couch full of sickies, note sickie medicine.
When moms get sick the whole system collapses. Personally I have been getting better, keeping the kids quiet, the house clean ( at least to my standards), and tending to my wife’s every need as long as it doesn’t involve a lot of work, or is needed during my favorite show. Finally, I make sure and leave a few things so she won’t feel left out, you know things like some dirty laundry and dishes. I can tell she appreciates it because as soon as she emerges from her den of sickness, she immediately gives me some of that tough love which just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. Or is that a fever coming on?
Primero semester de espanol Love Song (cancion de amor)
In honor of upcoming transfer of latitudes, and the fact that my two high schoolers are in Spanish II Or Espanol dos, as we prefer to call it, I present you the First Semester of Spanish Love Song.
I took three years of Spanish in High School / College so I can understand the language decently. However recalling it is quit another challenge. One technique that helped me was the songs.
In High School I absolutely abhorred the songs. I hated singing them, I hated learning them, but most of all I hated performing them. Yes we performed the songs. Every year at Christmas time our teacher, Ms. Heitkamp, would give us a list of songs to learn. We would then practice the songs for weeks culminating with our grand tour. The tour consisted of the Social Studies, Algebra, and History classes all in one morning. It was exhausting, even for a performer of my caliber. Further, performing so close to the audience adds another uncomfortable dimension to the show. I like distance between me and my fans, we were right on top of them and I could see my fellow basketball team mates snickers, my fellow “cool crowd” pimple faced buddies pointing, and everyone else holding it in the best we can as the chorus of “Rudolph el Benedito” rang throughout the halls. It was quite terrifying, and I am sure it was quite hideous to observe and hear. I am just ever so thankful phone cameras and YouTube had not yet been invented. However, as horrifying as it was, I can still recall most of the lyrics when needed. So if I ever meet someone with a bright nose and I need them to help me through a snowstorm on my sleigh, I can whip out “Jefe, con nariz de luz, quieres guirre me autobus?”
So in honor of all that and without further adieu, I give you an oldie but a goodie, the first semester of Spanish Love Song. Enjoy, sing along and you too will soon be speaking enough spanish to get you through Los Angeles.
I remember when:
Scrolling through my iphone I am often amazed at the luxuries of life that seemed to slowly develop into a “necessary” part of my life. I often snicker to myself when I think back to the way things were, and I roll my eyes when I recall how it was for my mom & dad or my grandparents, or so they tell me. I used sit in fascination listening to them tell me of the old days and how hard it was. Yet, as they spoke you could see their lips curl up in near formation of a smile, and their eyes glisten as they half preach half story-tell from their memory.
I find it easy to recall the good times and to glamorize the bad times. It will always be better for our generation,and that goes for every generation. And I imagine as I sit in my anti-gravity rocking chair with a warm blanket hung around my shoulders, slippers donned upon my feet and a grandchild or two sitting on my lap, I too will tell stories of the good and bad times; the times before 4G and wireless internet, the times prior to electric cars and wrist top computers, and as the kids look into my face holding their 3D holographic i-air, smelling the ultra organic coffee tablet upon my breath, they will see a smile creep up and my eyes glisten as I recall the glorious bad times and the wonderful good times, longing to go back. Until then, and in honor of the New Year, I thought I would share some of the things I remember, in hopes that it would jog your memory and cause you to smile just a touch, and that you too would share with all of us some of yours.
I remember when:
All phones had cords.
Green color is a bonus.
Dialing a phone actually meant you had to turn a dial with your finger, and if you had a party line you had to wait for your neighbor to hang up. If you wanted to make a collect call, you had to call the operator and tell her, yes it was always a her, what you wanted to do.
Velcro first appeared on shoes, my blue Roos.
I saw my first VCR, it was the size of a small Volkswagen. I remember the first movie I watched on the VCR, it was not age appropriate.
You had to crush the keys on a typewriter to make it work, and there was no backspace, and if you pressed more than one key; traffic jam! ( Thanks to Emily & Phil and their sign in at their wedding for this one, classic!)
Movie theaters used to be huge and used to show double features, and you didn’t have to get a 90 days same as cash loan to get some snacks. I remember watching Godzilla at a double feature and being in awe of such an awesome creature.
Cartoons weren’t on 24/7 on 13 different channels. If you wanted to watch cartoons you got up early on Saturday, turned on the TV, watched the snow on tv and waited for the national anthem while eating copious amounts of cereal. Even then they were only on for 3-4 hours, most of which was Bugs Bunny, and often cut short if that stupid Wide World of Sports came on.
errr, what's up doc?
We got so excited for Christmas, Halloween, and Easter, not for the celebration but because we got “bonus” cartoons like Charlie Brown, or Riki Tiki Tavi.
We used to spend hours looking through the Sears or JC Penney catalog circling our wants and desires for birthdays and Christmas. We had to do this in June so that they would arrive by Christmas.
They always come back in style, that's why I still have ll my stuff
When we went to McDonalds we actually had to tell them that we wanted a Big Mac, Large Fries and a medium 7-UP. You did not order by number because that had not been invented yet. The only numbers were on your bill, and it was less than $5.
I saw my first remote control, it was for a VCR and it was connected with a long cord, which seems to be a good way to keep from losing the remote.
classic remote, again along the lines of having to crush the buttons to make it work. We were stronger and skinnier then because of all this extra calorie burning.
I saw my first cell phone, it was connected to a car battery ( at least it looked like one) and a guy brought it into a restaurant I was working at and he actually got a call. Thing is, he was yelling so loud into the phone he didn’t even need the phone, I am sure the guy would’ve heard him just fine without it.
The only way you got bottled water was to use one of your used Coke bottles and fill it up with tap water.
I saw my first TV show, it was Captain Kangaroo in black and white on a 10 inch TV, with a UHF and VHF dial. Unfortunately I haven’t turned the TV off since then!
The Captain! That moose is Legal!
I played my first video game, it was pong on that same TV. I was amazed, and we played for hours; after all it seemed to take hours to set up. In my memory, I was quite dominant.
Perhaps hockey, table tennis, soccer, lacrosse, and water polo were all inspired by Pong.
Atari was all the rage. I used to get blisters and have black smudge from the rubber control on my hands from Space Invaders and Drag Racing all night long.
I had my first experience with the internet; A geek friend of mine, I think his name was William Gates, made me watch during my lunch hour while we waited for something to arrive over the internet to him. I didn’t know what that meant, or where it was coming from, but I clearly remember what it was. A sandwich, bag of Cheetos, Coke and Thirty minutes later the magic file arrived. He opened it, clicked on it and then I heard Homer Simpson say “Doh” I was amazed, as he clicked it over and over, and obviously I never forgot it.
I got my first computer, it was an Apple II C with a 7 inch green screen monitor. I needed a 5.7 inch floppy to disk to boot the computer, and other than play Space Invaders or Conan the Barbarian, I don’t know what else I did with it. I had a dot matrix printer with the tear away paper with holes on the edge as my printer. I still love the sound of the dot matrix.
My Apple II C, space age technology at the time
I bought my first cd player. I was the only one of my friends that had one and I could only afford one CD, ZZ Top. I remember being fascinated at how fast it spun.
I first heard music through a Walkman. I was amazed at the sound and kept telling Jack, my friend who had told me to listen to his Walkman, to listen at how amazing it sounded. He kept saying, ” I know , I know its mine”.
When I saw my first collection of Laser Discs a neighbor had. I thought he was on the cutting edge, I just didn’t know it was on the edge of extinction.
I had my first piece of Bublicious, I thought it was bubble delicious, soft and huge, for about 72 seconds until it became a rock.
Finally, I remember when my iphone only had one camera lens and no flash, those were hard times.
There’s just a taste and I know there are tons more out there, and they are all different depending on your generation. So share some with us in the comments section so we can all enjoy and recall the good old days when the teenage kids were punks and things were much tougher, and we can small just a little with you.
A Christmas to remember
Over the last few years we have molded our own Christmas tradition, friends over the night before Christmas, Church on Christmas Eve, a light dinner, the kids open presents from each other and from their grandparents, sleep in until 9 or 10 ( yep, it’s true our kids are NOT early risers) have some cinnamon rolls or dad makes eggs, read the Bible, take turns opening presents, and then play with any electronics as dad mumbles in frustration to himself trying to open plastic wrapped toys and wire ties. The afternoon is spent cooking a Prime Rib dinner while dad attempts to program, set up and debug all electronics while mom collects the leftovers of her endless hours wrapping perfection. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it is ours. It is comforting, relaxing, stress free and fits us like a brand new Snuggie, with feet.
The Eve of Christmas Eve gathering.
Jo on the eve of Christmas eve gets a visit from Glanta
Jo concentrating for the 32 seconds it took for her to open pressies.
Jake loving the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service
nephew Levi sporting a tie at church
This year Mom invited us back to Anchorage to celebrate Christmas at her house. Considering that this may be our last Christmas in AK for a while, we accepted. This changes things a little. You see my mom does not do small and relaxing. My mom does big and grand. So I knew there would be excessive food and excessive people. Further, we had to load up the van with all the gifts and all the gear required for a Christmas weekend.
Action!
Jace n Jake sporting their Jammies
ripping time
Kassie and Callie and their American Girls. Too many women for me!
Now this is more my speed!
Upon arrival I quickly learned that I was not wrong, nor was I disappointed, there were about a dozen pies, several turkeys, lots of sides, home-made egg nog ( another of my favorite cholesterol fat inducing traditions) french onion soup and yes my french dip. Christmas eve included a candle light service ( and no Shine Jesus Shine) with an exchanging of a few gifts. The house was full of food, fun and folks. It went very well with a relatively early bed time. Christmas Day was another story.
Nana's girls posing for her Christmas present
Callie, Tiara, Kassie, Olivia, Alli and Bella
It started well, we slept in until we could her our little nephews and nieces pitter pattering around the house. Tracy and I eventually made our way downstairs clothed in our traditional Christmas Jammies. I should haveknown it was going to be a little off day when I went to make a cup of coffee and the Kuerig was stingy with the water. Something was amiss. Desperate, I ran a solution of vinegar and water through the system, to no avail. Glenn without his traditional cup of Christmas morning sludge is unacceptable to most and unbearable to all. So after cleansing the system I tried again. It dribbled out about 8 ounces of joe, at least it was something. However one sip let me know that the system was still full of vinegar as I puckered in disgust looking for a place to spit my sip, the definition of a sourpuss. It never did give up any acceptable joe.
Kinect Action
uncle Brad showing us how its done. He beat daddy in track and field.
So we decided to start the gift opening, with no coffee. Unfortunately we did not calculate the time it would take with the extra four openers in the flock. You see we open one present at a time, but we had 11 kids in the mix. About 4 presents in we decided that everyone should open one present at a time, but in unison, adapt and survive. Perhaps I was impatient due to the lack O joe, but it seemed to be an effective and efficient method and by my calculations we would have been un-wrapping until New Year’s Eve.
Christmas in the dark
Christmas dinner in the dark.......
..... and charades in the dark, best you don't see what's happening here.
Once the presents were opened, Uncle Brad and I were off in search of coffee, of which we found a couple of smart stands open for business. Needless to say a big tip was in order. The afternoon did not fair any better as minutes into the frying of the turkey and prior to the cooking of the sides, the power went out. The same power that we lost on Thanksgiving ( and we later learned was lost on New Year’s Day). Do you think somebody may be bucking for some Holiday OT over at the Chugach Electric Company? Once again we improvised and brought the remainder of the food over to Val’s to cook, and made do with what was already done. The power stayed off until 3 am the next morning, so in the interim we slept ( okay I may have dozed off on the couch) ate, played charades, played cards, talked and sat by the fire in an attempt to stay warm. The poor kids had to wait forever to play their new electronic games, including the new Kinect which eventually dad and uncle Brad broke in for them. However, all in all it certainly was a Christmas to remember.
Awkward Conversations (AC)
Have you ever had an awkward conversation (AC)? I know you have. They are never fun and most often not fruitful. But the unexpected one is a lot loss painful. It’s like jumping off a cliff into the ocean. If you are peering over the edge and someone unexpectedly pushes you over, it’s awful and scary and once you are in it there is no way out until you belly flop, and that’ll leave you stinging and with a red belly, but likely you will survive.
The master of awkward conversations, Michael Scott
In my mind it is even worse when you know you are going to jump off the cliff yourself. You gingerly, slowly walk over to the edge, instantly sweat beads on your forehead, your mouth dry and sticky, you can feel the blood rushing through your veins and doubts flying around your brain like a million racquetballs. Your heart beating so hard that it literally makes you conscious of your breathing. The whole while you put on a brave face , smiling a crooked nervous smile, while fear lurks deep in your eyes. The anticipation of what you have to do, knowing the pain and shear fear seconds away, making it all more nerve-racking than ever.
Seem a little overly dramatic? Not to me. I absolutely hate AC; I don’t mind watching them, I just don’t like being involved in them. I especially hate them when I know they are coming. Seems a little odd in my profession. I mean pretty much every conversation I have is confrontational; I am accusing someone of wrong – doing, grilling them , or talking to them at what they perceive is one of the worst moments of their life.
Why am I having this AC with you all right now? Well I just had one of these, and it was perhaps the worst one I have ever had. I was dreading it for weeks, which obviously made it much worse. I prayed, I thought, I sought advice and waited for God’s timing to have it, yet still it was very rough. Man to man, minimal eye contact, lots of hemming and hawing. But unlike most awkward conversations, this one was an awkward request conversation, so that is like an AC on steroids.
Once it is done, there is usually a sense a relief, just like when you realize that bear charging you out of the woods is your hiking partner trying to scare you, that type of relief. I didn’t get full relief because I left a big Matza Ball out there and I am still waiting for an answer. One thing I have learned is that although I may absolutely dread the thought and action of the AC, I will always regret it more if I don’t follow through. So next time I pull you aside and say “I need to talk to you about something” brace yourself for a belly flop. Then again, you may be one of the freaks that like that AC, and that’s a blog for another day.
Blog Format Update
As you can see, I liked our house blog theme so much that I have updated our family blog to match. I have also added some slick search engines and drop down-down menus on the side bar to the right. So now if you want to see a blog about, Costa Rica, just type it in the search box, or if there was one that had sharks, or tabascorn, or any word and it should pull up the blogs that contain those words. If you use the category pull down menu, you can select from already defined categories. Even better, you can now easily subscribe using the email subscription. Then every time it is updated you will be emailed with a direct link. I will likely be tweaking it a little along the way, hopefully to make it better. Until then, if you have any suggestions or comments, let me have em by clicking the comment link at the bottom of any post. Bloggers love comments. Glenn
Purpose
FAIR WARNING: THIS IS MUCH DIFFERENT THAN MY NORMAL POSTS!
Every once in a while I hear or see something that really moves me. Often, I don’t know why. In some way I must relate to what I hear or see and it touches me deeply and inspires me greatly. Today, I heard a clip on the radio which did just that. Her name is Gianna Jessen and she is an abortion survivor. Until today, I didn’t know there was such a thing. In this clip she is giving a speech in Australia.
Surviving an abortion is not what inspired me. That was God’s doing, not hers. What inspired me is that she knows that God has a purpose for her life and she is willing to be hated, and I mean hated, to fulfill her purpose. That is courage that I can only pray to strive for. She unabashedly, although clumsily at times, proclaims her faith through her weakness and that inspires me. If you get one thing out of this video I hope it is that God has a purpose for you life, and he has a purpose for my life.
I believe I have fulfilled a small part of that and it is time to start working towards the finish. I don’t know yet what that will be, but I am excited to find out. Because I know if I find it and if I walk it, my life will only be fuller and stronger, and that will in turn do affect my family the same way. Perhaps I will be the only one that feels this way; perhaps this is old news, it may even be too over-the-top for most. But I felt as if I had a duty to share this and I hope that you too can find a nugget of inspiration from it.
Salty Dawgs
My favorite part of our recent family visit was the “trip”. If you have been a follower of our blog, you know we like to take a boat trip every year over to Jakalof Bay to pick some berries and fish for some halibut. We decided it would be a good idea to take the ladies out and let them experience special part of Alaska. Like any good mariner, I checked the weather regularly before the day of the trip, and not once did it look very good. But since we were just jetting across the bay, I thought we could pull it off. So off we headed, back to Homer for a little adventure.
The gaggle of gals headed down to the boat, while I parked the car, and I could see them milling around the boat. To their delight a seal had decided to make a home on the swim-step of our boat. Someone had the foresight to keep Austin from harvesting it, and instead they took pictures like they were in a petting zoo.
Security guard for the boat
"Hey Tra do you think I can bring it home with me?"
With the lines tossed, we were on our way. It was a very pleasant trip, for about 10 minutes, then we snuck out around the spit. In an instant we were in it, The Perfect Storm. Okay, perhaps not quite that dramatic, but at least 6-7 footers, which to a 24 foot boat are pretty decent. I calmly answered the cries of ” is this normal?” or”are we going to die” and” I trust you, you wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t safe would you?” With a very calm and sweaty palmed ” This is nothing; a piece of cake” . ” I have been in much, much worse!” I didn’t tell them it was in 121 foot deep sea patrol vessel at the time.
The day started out beautifully.
Very soon shades of green were popping up amongst the passengers. I could tell, as the talking quickly subsided, minus the screams as we would crest the waves, that there was some uncertainty amongst us. Perhaps they were looking for a Jonah, and they kept eyeballing me. I knew it was far too late to turn around, and perhaps far too dangerous, so onward, upward, downward, upward, downward…… we continued. Every once in a while I had to pull back the throttle to keep us from slamming off the top of wave, which tended to add to the excitement.
Then for some reason I thought I would say something to comfort everyone. ” As long as the engine keeps running, we will be fine. ” Hmmmm, that didn’t come out as I expected, and it didn’t cause the reaction I was looking for. Eventually, in what probably seemed like hours to some, we pulled into the cover of the bay and all was well. We managed to tie up safely, eat some fried chicken, and go pick some salmon berries. I am not convinced they thought it was worth it, but I think they had fun once we got there.
Man I am happy to get off that boat with all them women!
The real housewives of Jakalof Bay have found their new home!
Lana tore that rope swing up!
Tina showing off her trophy berries
It's a bald bear, it's a bald eagle, nope it's super berry picker.
A view into the bay
A portion of our bounty
After several hours, we decided to try to catch some halibut, and I was anxious to try a new spot right outside the bay. As we cast the lines, I sensed a slight tinge of nervousness, as I assured them it would not be nearly as rough as before, and it wasn’t. However the motion of the boat in a long, almost gentle swell, while at anchor, seemed to have an even more adverse effect on the briny crew. Soon there were heads hanging over both sides of the boat, and Tina laughing her head off in the cabin. I knew it was bad when my first mate, whom I had never seen sick, succumbed to chumming over the port rail. You just better be thankful my camera isn’t a smell-o-vision.
Hey first mate, whatchya looking at?
Salty dawg fail.
Due to my ultra -sensitivity to those around me, and my first mate begging me to go, I decided that it was time to move on, halibut or not. We had one last spot to try, and then we would call it a day with only berries as our prize. A pride buster for any old salt. Again, this was a new spot, but it was in protected waters. However, we would once again have to cross the straits of horror to get there. But as I assured them, the ride would be much smoother as we would be traveling with the seas. The sick and wounded climbed into the bunk area and off we went.
Passing the honorary salty dawg initiaiton.
Attempting the honorary salty dog initiation
Failing the salty dawg initiation.
We made it across without too much excitement and managed to drop anchor in some flat calm waters. Very quickly the herring laden hooks were weighted and dropped and there they sat for a lengthy time. It was poor fishing. A fine finish to a fine day.
Again, my ultra-sensitivity radar kicked in and I could sense that the ladies wanted to call it a day. Perhaps the cat calls of ” how much longer” ” when we can we go” and “there’s no fish” aided in tuning in my radar. So as we always do we pulled up one line at a time. Dorian the die-hard always waiting to the last second, kept on fishing while I reeled all other lines in. Now this strategy never works. I can never, not one time remember catching a fish by cleaning up one rod at a time; except today. With three lines in the boat I hear Dorian ” Dad I got one” and I look over at his rod bent over mightily and I knew instantly it was a good fish. Quickly we put Austin’s rod back in the water and in a matter of seconds he had a big fish on.
Dorian saves the trip once again
Dorian informed me that this was a good fish, and having boated a 160 pounder last year, I figured he would know. So there I was bouncing between Dorian and Austin trying to help them land their catch. I figured Dorian would land his first, but every time it got close it made a run for the bottom. unfortunately the two halibut conspired to get the lines tangled up and Austin eventually lost his. After a lengthy battle Dorian was able to bring his to the surface and I harpooned her as if she was Moby Dick and I was Ahab. She figured to be in the 60 pound range, not huge but often the best fighters. While we let her rest I put Austin’s rod back in the water and once again he hooked into a big one, and once again he lost it. DANG!
Homer Harbor (some stinking tourists in the foreground)
By then it was time to go. Considering the start of the day, the ill-fated journey ended well. We harvested berries, saw a ghost ( ask Tra about that one) got some great pictures, got enough halibut to share, earned some awesome stories, saw some first class chumming and grunting, and grabbed a McKinley Mac on the way out-of-town. Even though they failed some of the tests, I have now declared all on-board official salty dawgs. Next time we will look for some real rough water.
Home School Hazard
I love that Tracy puts the time and considerable effort in home schooling our kids. I love her passion for the curriculum and community and her drive and desire to make sure that each and every one of them gets the attention they need. I love that she gets to spend so much time with each kid, and that they very quickly learn how to read their lesson plans for the day and get school done. I worried how Dorian and Alli would do attending SoHi full-time for the first ever as sophomores. It turns out my worries are in vain, as they are doing exceptionally well. However, there are some hazards. You see since they don’t “go” to school, they do their experiments, and art projects all at home, and while that is usually great, there are times when it is a little discomforting.
Imagine coming home after a long day at work. Your stomach grumbling just a touch, that hollow empty grumble that demands immediate attention. You walk into the well stocked pantry, reach over to the right and flip on the light switch. Immediately you see that plastic little drawers reserved for “dad” with his special snacks. Three steps later you are in front of the drawers and in your face you see the following:
Which molds quicker, wet bread, toast or dry bread? And why is it on "my" snack drawer.
This was Kassie’s experiment. The experiment was to see which molds quicker, wet bread or toast. I love that she had to put the sign up to make sure nobody touched her experiment. What I don’t love is that she hung it on my snack drawer, and I was hungry enough that it actually looked pretty decent.
So even though it is great to see the projects, art work, home work and lessons for the day, I have learned to be wary of home school hazards. And the first time I reach into the fridge for my after work snack, and pull out a half dissected frog, it will be time to re-think this whole home school thing, as soon as I finish my frog legs.
Thanks a Latte
Having traveled a bit recently, I have come to realize that there are many advantages to living in Alaska. However, none has become more apparent than coffee. Yes, I know you can get coffee anywhere, but you can’t get coffee like we have coffee. You see here in Alaska we do our coffee by drive-by. If you are new or just visiting , you will see this skinny storage sheds with windows on both sides all along side our most traveled roads. These are not storage sheds, they are our local bean pushers. When it is 20 below zero, you really don’t want to get out of your car unless you have to, and for coffee, we don’t have to. On my drive into work, I pass at least 8 of them, and we are in a very small town of about 8,000. Yet there is almost always a car at the window getting its daily fix, or in some cases getting its third or fourth fix for the day.
Hooked on the Bean beaconing for me to pull up and get a fix
If you are like we are, you build a relationship with your coffee girl. For some reason the baristas are pretty much all girls. You can pull up and she will already be making your drink, straws no straws, mints or no mints, 12, 16, or 20 ounce, two or four shots, whatever you get they will have it hot and ready, getting you out of the window as fast as possible. McDonald’s could learn a thing or two from these little ladies.
The coffee huts even have their own currency in the form of unique punch cards, so you don’t need cash every time. How considerate of them. You just hand them the money card, they punch it and pass it back. I wonder if this makes them sovereign? And if you work really hard, and buy lots of coffees, every 12th coffee you get a free one! That right there brings your cost per cup way down.
The Arctic Fox, my favorite stop on the way to church, to Kenai, or whenever I get in my car
But probably my favorite thing is the corniest thing, suprising eh? It is the names of these shacks. Let me share a few, Hooked on the Bean, Cool Beanz, Thanks a Latte, Java Junction, Hot Shots, Coffee Cats, Espresso Yourself, Jitters, Mocha Mutt, Motor Mocha, and they go on, a never-ending puns of bean bliss. So corny they are beautiful, much like pop art.
So until I drive by a small hut in Florida called “Manatee Mocha” I will always be ready to get back home and get a 20 ounce sugar free, white chocolate, americano. Wait a second…. I have a full punch card; a free one is coming! Coffee on me tomorrow! At least the first cup.
The fruits of my labor, the "free" cup of bliss.
JJJ and J
A few weekends ago we had some special guests Josiah, Josh, Jude and JoJo. We traded them for Dorian who had gone to the Fine Arts conference. Now I don’t know if it was a good trade, because you see Dorian is really not too much trouble right now, he can bathe himself, dress himself, brush his own teeth, and even feed himself when needed. There are no diapers, runny noses, whining … well okay there is some whining but not as much. So for that weekend our grand kid total was 11, and all but 3 of them were under the age of 13.
Ben throwing down some lessons to Josh, then.....
... he then threw down his own version of Happy Day
contemplating his next song
Josiah can get comfy anywhere
Josh follows suit
Jude the dude
Surprisingly it was slightly easier than I had anticipated. Perhaps it was because I was shuttling kids back and forth from across America the whole time. The one thing I have noticed is that when we have kids over, they almost always have someone to “hang” with, so unless there are sweets on the kitchen counter, they pretty much stay out of our hair. Yes, that is clearly a figure of speech for me.
Play time
we may have ruined rabbit hunting for the Gluth family forever
yep, ruined
Jo giving Jude "katar" lessons
It seems that they had a good time, never a dull moment, and definitely never a dull moment for Tracy.
She’s just playing
We knew early on she belonged on a stage. In fact, by the time she was two she was known as our little drama queen. She was unbelievably cute, she knew how to bat her eyelashes , smile, and even say things like ” oh daddy” in a patronizing voice. Oh yes, early on we knew this one would be trouble. Tracy figured that dance class may be a place for her use up her charm. She was right. Alli took to it like me to cheesecake, she devoured it. And as good as she was in class, she was even better on stage. She had the smile, the charm, the confidence, she had it all and she knew how to bring it all together to stand out on the stage. Things were going great, dance four days a week, performances 4-5 times a year, and a lot of driving and costume money from dad. But the important thing is that she had to have somewhere to put her creative energy. That all came to a crippling halt last year when her meniscus said ” I need a break“, or perhaps even more proper, I need a tear, as documented in this very blog.
- I really should be out there “acting”
looking beautiful
The three banditos.....
.... and the three princes
So she sat around the house for months with nothing to do, no way to release her creative energy except on her parents. It was politely suggested to her that perhaps the stage was calling her once again, alas not in dance but in drama. Her eyes lit up a little and it seemed as if something so obvious should not have been such a surprise to any of us. Of course she took to it like a rainbow trout to roe.
After a semester of drama she tried out for the school play and actually got two roles. Neither was a lead, but both were scattered throughout the play, and she was critical to the start of the plot and the closing scene. The whole family got to enjoy the play, and the consensus was: She must love sword fighting because she smiled the whole time, Jeremy loved the sword fights but was disappointed she didn’t die on stage, she looked beautiful and did a fantastic job. We are so proud and maybe its time for her one woman show, just as long as she leaves the drama on the stage.
Short video clip of a couple of scenes from the play
The Cast
Back to life, back to reality
What is a vacation? Can you have a true vacation while still at home? I think not. I think vacations are getting away from all the daily things in your life; work , meetings, appointments, clubs, practices, and work. The problem with vacations is that they end. It is impossible to have a never ending vacation, because at some point it becomes your “reality” or your “life”.
Now we will admit, we missed our kids and we missed our friends, but if we could’ve found a way to bring them all back to us, we would have. You could’ve all lived in our vacation for a while, and much like a tootise pop, we would see how long it takes a vacation to turn into life. My guess, when the money runs out.
To close out our trip, I thought I would just post some of our favorite shots of our trip. People seem to like the pics ( or really resent them Scott L.!) and I will work on getting another video together. Shoot, last time it only took me a year, and then it will be time for another vacation.
Well I went ahead and did a quick photo video, it was easier. I apologize for the quality, but it was a quick video just so for your enjoyment. The second video, well that is for all the doubters; those that doubt a 41 year, stocky Alaskan can surf. You can hear the cheers from the hot female in the background.
Where the heck is Junquillal ( hoonk-a-lawl)?
As much as I love having the GPS, it is definitely not infallible. For instance, last week we wanted to check out a place called Junquillal. Junquillal is a nice little beach town south of Playa Flamingo. So we punch it in the GPS and off we go on another adventure. Little did we know the true adventure it would be. You see our GPS always looks for the “shortest” route, as that is the way I have programmed it. What the GPS does not take into consideration is the condition of the road. In this case, the shortest route was along the beach on a series of “roads” that appeared as a series of dashes on our old-fashioned map.
shells as far as the eye can see
shells, shells and more shells
a casa on the beach
It turns out these “roads” would be a challenge for an ATV, much less our Suzuki SUV. There were rivers and dips, and ruts, and trees and iguanas, and occasionally a dirt bike. Our top speeds were in the 25 kilometer range, and my patience was running very short. Every once in a while there was a small “road” that turned off from our “road” and towards the beach, and through the dust and jarred teeth, I was often tempted to turn down one to take a break and change the shocks out. After about 45 minutes, our GPS told me to turn right, and since I had blindly been following it for over and hour I listened.
Tra in beachcombers heaven
A bad day of fishing in Costa Rica, beats a lot of things.
Well apparently some things are not so much different here in Costa Rica than back home. Say for instance the fishing. We took a small charter out this morning to do a little fishing for, well for pretty much anything. Although the methods were slightly different, the weather was way different, the results were vaguely familiar; we caught nothing. I saw more variety of fish than I have ever seen outside an aquarium. They were jumping, diving, swimming and schooling all over the place, they just wouldn’t bite. Maybe it was too hot for them to eat.
our chariot awaiting us
our trusty skipper William
Jason ready to reel
first mate
The trip was not a total loss, as I said before I saw more variety of fish than I have ever seen. My favorite was the giant Manta Ray. As I have detailed in this blog in the past, we have caught many skates over the years, and I thought Manta Rays were similar. I was way off. They look similar, but it is like comparing a Piper Super Cub to a Boeing 747. The giant manta rays were amazing to watch, gliding through the water, barley moving their wings. Eventually each tip of each wing breaking the surface of the water, as two shark fins moving in unison. Then slowly gliding back down like a hand glider returning to earth. A couple off them were several feet wider than our boat, and one looked to be as big as our 21 foot fishing boat. I can only imagine the giant shadow they must cast on the bottom of the ocean.
Jrew checking the lines
pre-fishing pose
father and son
We also saw some turtles, jumping skates, and about a dozen fish of which I was told the name of, but could not understand what William the skipper called them through his thick spanglish accent. I just nodded my head and smiled, that seemed to do the trick. Finally we saw some sea snakes and some of the beautiful deserted beaches. Shoot, I even managed to get a little snooze in. It was a nice boat ride without any nasty, dirty fish to clean. Back home we would say ” all I caught was a cold”, here “all I caught was a burn, sunburn”.
like father, like son
fishing, boat riding fools
Ex-Pats Partying
Socializing together is very important for ex-pats in Costa Rica, as has become apparent to us this trip. In one week we have gone to two well attended fund-raisers. The first was here in Flamingo for a local private school. There we met many people from the community, people from the church, from the school, and just the area in general.
Dinner night at Angelina's
our transportation to many social events, Jane is a crazy driver though.
The night scene at the Haiti benefit
Tonight we went to another fund-raiser in Tamarindo, this time it was for Haiti. Again, all aspects of the community showed up for the concert, buffalo wings and company. The best thing about these get togethers is that they have great turnouts, they are cheap, and they are outside. It is a great way to meet people and feel part of the area. There is a tight-knit community here, and they take advantage of outings such as these.
Haiti benefit
They even had kids activities, including the Pinata
post sunset listening to the live music ( I can never open my eyes in a self portrait)
more scenes from the concer
Oh, and we found time to go surfing once again, without instructors. This time we hit Playa Grande, where the people are fewer the waves are bigger and the surfing is better. But, the surfing is only better for better surfers, not so much us. I am happy to report that I truly really surfed a couple waves. I mean stand up, ride the wave jump off surfing. And even though I suffered many minor injuries, I believe I will surf again, dude!
I am a monkey, and I am going to get that coconut!
look out dude!
making it happen
Tracy and her friend Arenal, the same guy from last year
the obligatory sunset with a Guancaste tree in the foreground
Things we learned:
It takes more than one day for surf wounds to heal.
12 passenger rental buses can catch air if driven at high speeds over a large speed bump.
It only costs about $2 to fix a flat tire, it only costs another $2 to fix that same flat again….
There are a lot of Americans living in Costa Rica, and they seek out other Americans.
Merry surfing to me
I am a legendary body surfer and well known boogie boarder, at least in my family. However, I cannot say that it has always been my dream to be a surfer. This past Christmas, knowing we would be in Costa Rica together, Jason bought me surf lessons. In his words, so he would not look foolish alone.
Glenn trying to hang ten
two grown men fighting for the same wave
Now I have watched hundreds upon hundreds of people surf, big waves, small waves, big boards, small boards, and for the most part it looks pretty easy. Catch a wave, jump up, balance and ride to the shore. Sure I knew it would likely take 2 or 3 times before I got the knack of it, but I am old and that is expected.
Jason getting ready to make some magic
just like the pros
ending his ride in style
It was a gusty day on Tamarindo beach, blowing along the shore line perpendicular to the surf. The sun was hot, the spray was pelting and the flying sand stung those stuck on shore. Tracy stood by on the beach guarding our things and armed with a multitude of cameras. There were several schools of surf, all identified by their color of surfing shirt and their very close proximity to the shore, like me, Jason, Jrew and Jace, in our awesome surfer blue shirts. Further out, in the big surf breaking out 100 feet past us were the pros, with their wooden short boards, wild hairdos, dark skin, long shorts, taking turns catching the big waves. I knew soon, very soon we would be out there with them.
Jason getting ready to make it happen
Jrew showing all of us how it is done
After our repetitive on shore session learning how to jump up onto the board, we were ready to hit the waves. Our teacher, Cairo, a thin tall dark Tico lead us out into the beginner surf and was soon holding our boards and shoving us one by one into the onslaught of waves. Now some of us were much quicker to grasp the concept of balance and foot position, unfortunately I was not one of them. Eventually though, I was able to stand up, and I think I actually surfed. Most of the time, by the time I was standing the ride was already over, but it still looked good in a quick photo.
ready to catch the big kahuana
almost there
Jace really seemed to get the hang of it, riding several waves all the way into the shore. Jrew also caught some great waves, and he even did a couple tricks, unintentionally, but they still looked cool. Jason caught a couple nice ones, but he injured his hip early on ( during the on shore session) and was suffering throughout the class. Yet he pressed on, and kept his word accompanying me in looking foolish. Me, well I can’t say that I became “one with the waves” but I can say that I became “one with the ocean bottom” several times. I never did make it out deep with the pros, but I was content to hang in the shallow surf with the other blue shirters, attempting to catch wave after wave. Will I ever surf again? Let’s just say I bought a brand new surf shirt today, but you won’t see me in Cook Inlet anytime soon.
two surf daddy's in one picture
emerging victorious
What we learned:
The reason you wear a surf shirt is not for warmth,or to look excessively cool, but to prevent rashes, of which I now have many.
Not only is surfing much harder than it looks, sitting on the board is harder than it looks, swimming on the board is harder than it looks, and getting to the surf is harder than it looks.
Balance is key, and it is not a given.
If you surf once, you will almost always surf again.
Pretty much anyone can look cool holding a surfboard on the beach.
My wife can take some awesome surf pictures.
the unicycle dude, after this he decided to run for an hour at sunset
I have conquered the surf
reflection ( not the one off my head, a deeper much more meaningful reflection)
Vacations can be exhausting
Being on the beach has brought a lot more activity into our lives. We have met up with Jason and Angie and their kids, met up with our friend from last year, Jane; met a whole bunch of new people out outings ranging from a beach party at a nice condo resort, to a fund raiser for a local school. In between, we have found some time to hit the beach, and more importantly, time for my noggin to heal.
finding a minute to relax
We met the Daniels at a beach right in front of our house. They pretty much already look like Ticos, dark hair, dark skin the works. Their espanol is a little rough, but getting mucho mejor. While hanging at the beach, Me, Jason and the boys were showing off our boogie boarding / body surfing prowess, and I must say, it was very impressive, at least to us. The water down here is fantastic, extremely warm, clear and calm. It is easy to spend the whole day in it, forgetting that the sun is beating down upon your head every second.
me catching a wave as Jason looks on in awe.
Olivia showing us all how to hang ten
Me, being the wise man that I am, put my dew rag on; and me, being that wise man that I am, forget that I had it on when I tried to body surf the big Kahuana. Needless to say, after two somersaults, shorts full of sand, and salt water throughout my whole sinus cavity, I emerged without my trusty dew rag. So, uh, Schemanskis, I know you are in Hawaii, keep on eye out for a black dew rag, there is a handsome reward for its return.
we stayed in the water well past sunset.
We also made a road trip down to Tamarindo in the Daniels Dream Wagon. It fit all 10 of us. Along the way we stopped at a great coffee shop called Cafe Cafe, and the coffee was fantastic. The guy working the counter was great, a true surfer named Daniel. He also attends the church we attend while here in Flamingo.
Photo by Jace, in front of Beach Community Church
fun bridge for the hijos outside the church
We hit the board work and did some tourisimo shopping and then hit the local Auto Mercado grocery store. Tracy and I managed to spend about 44,000 colones for our shopping efforts, or about $80 in Alaskan money. I didn’t dare ask Jason and Angie what they spent, but let’s just say the dream wagon was squatting quite a bit on the way home. We have noticed that cheese and peanut butter are very expensive, while fruit and veggies are very reasonable, to down right cheap at times.
the men talking things over during lunch
We did get to see some Congo monkeys on the drive back, after stopping for some true Italian style ice cream. It was a full day topped of with a fund-raiser for a local school where we met another 300 english speaking friends. Man, vacations can be exhausting!
one of the many Congo monkeys in a tree by the road
What we learned:
A great way to inject salt water into every orifice of your body is to body-surf.
A great way to inject sand into every part of your body is to body-surf.
A great way to have the experience of being in a washing machine is to body-surf.
These people know how to put on a potluck!
The monkeys that bark like dogs are called congos, not manos, and they travel in families and the big one is the dominant male. Thanks shirtless, extremely overweight man smoking a cigarette and interrupting our wildlife viewing experience for your un-wanted and un-requested monkey facts.
sigh, another sunset
and another
another
last one
Tank Tops and Flip Flops ( and dew rags for one of us)
Home sweet home. We are back in Playa Flamingo, and it feels like coming home, the beach, the surf, the heat, the sun, the pool,the flip-flops and tank tops, and the peeling head, it is all so familiar and welcome. The drive down from San Jose took about 5 hours, with one stop for lunch along the way. It was a very pretty drive and much tamer than San Jose, although traffic laws are still mere suggestions, and mostly after thoughts.
some new scenes from out bananluna casita
A new papaya tree now prominent and just about ripe
The roads are filled with switchbacks and sodas. The switchbacks, gorgeous scenery and beautiful weather, combined with a 5-speed make me feel like I am in a T.V. commercial for a high-speed Mercedes. And, if I do say so myself, I drove like it, at times, at least in my mind. The sodas are local, very small outdoor restaurants, usually run out of someone’s house, and they litter the roadside. As you drive by you usually see 2-3 dark-skinned Ticos in jeans or cutoff shorts, and dimly colored shirts sitting at a table or bar eating what is likely to be pollo, rice and beans. If the soda is empty, than the owner / cook is usually sitting in a lounge chair in the front waiting for a patron.
scenes from Playa Flamingo beach
this one didn't make it.
We ended up back in Casita Bananluna, the same place we stayed last year, and it felt like walking back into home. Josh, Jane, Ara, and Mia were all on hand to great us. Little 3 year old Mia took to Tracy right away and hearing her talk made us miss our kids badly.
night scenes
another sunset
We spent the night walking the beach and watching the sunset, then sitting out by the pool watching the stars and the blood red moon set. As we watched the stars, two things occurred to me. I rarely ever get to just sit and look at the stars. Back home, when it is warm enough to watch the stars, they usually come out so late, that I cannot keep my old eyes open long enough to just gaze at them. In the winter, they are often out, and I usually pause walking into the house from the car to look at them. But then my ears turn into rock hard ice blocks after 30 seconds so I have to go inside. The second; I don’t think I have ever seen a moon set, and it was an exceptional sight. I hope to see many, many more of them.
the moon reflecting in the spa
Do you know your way in San Jose?
In less than a year, we have returned to Costa Rica. This time we are in the central valley, last time we were in the Guancaste region. We did not experience this region last time, and we wanted to broaden our horizons, and in one day, we have broadened them. San José is a tale of two, no a tale of ten cities. It is, by far, the biggest city in all of Costa Rica with a population of about 1.5 million people in the regional area.
ahh, peaceful no traffic heading into the valley
There are parts of San José that are reminiscence of the poorest parts of any large city in America, except that there are no building codes, so you can throw up whatever you want and call it a home. They build these homes right on the road, and although they cannot afford much, they can afford fences and barbed wire, oh and a big flat screen T.V.
even the drive- throughs are tricky
The traffic is the worst I have ever been in, including cities like Vancouver, St. Louis etc. This is not normal traffic, nor is it normal driving. Last year I was intimated early on in our trip, driving from the big city of Liberia to Playa Flamingo, child’s play compared to this. Instead of a two second rule, there is a hand rule, you should try to be at least two hand widths away from the car in front of you, and that is at 80 km per hour. Further, if you really want to go fast, drive a motorcycle. It is readily apparent that motorcycles do not have to adhere to traffic laws,( all right, everyone pretty much ignores them, but the motorcycles are far more brazen). They pass in between cars, on the divider line ( where this is a divider line) they zoom in and out of cars, pass on the right, pass on the left, pass in between cars going the wrong way, completely ignore red lights, and often don’t wear helmets, yet the usually have a passenger. All this on four lane roads with no lines,no shoulders, pedestrians on the road, cars parked on the road, and the width about 1/2 of an USA highway. It reminds me of the video game Tron, except much faster. I am confident Evil Knevil wouldn’t attempt to drive a motorcycle in this town. My favorite was the motorcycle driver speeding, passing 4 cars into oncoming traffic and texting at the same time. Unfortunately, we were unable to get pics because I was 100 % focused on not dying, and Tracy’s hands were dug into the dash. I hope our insurance covers dash damage.
our first lunch place this time
Just a few kilometers, or several hours aways, are slightly more sane areas. In fact the area of Escazu is pretty much like being in Amercia. It is much cleaner, wider roads, actual lines on the road, and even a few legible road signs. As you drive you see Applebee’s, Outback, Subways, and yes even McDonald’s. Funny thing is that they have some of their local flavor, and the local flavor is chicken, rice and beans. You can get them just about anywhere. The mall in that area is impressive, with many of the American stores, mixed in with some local selections. The prices seemed similar to Alaska prices, not that great.
Just a snippet of little america
They're everywhere!!
Chicken is everywhere, even KFC
We did manage to take a drive out to Grecia, a farm town in the hills of Central Valley. It was a great, quaint little town with very few english speaking people. As with most towns here, it had a huge Catholic church as the town center. We enjoyed visiting the area, and even had lunch at Pollo Crispy, which was very reasonable and tasty.
The church in Grecia
All in all, much like Anchorage, it seems to be a great place to visit, shop, and eat, but I don’t think I would want to live here. Too much traffic, too much stress, too many people, not enough beaches.
Things we learned today:
A month of pre-tanning does not prevent an hour sunburn.
Street signs are about the size of postage stamps, dirty illegible postage stamps.
A stop light combined with a stop sign is a common traffic sight, and just as commonly ignored.
Fumar o no fumar, still a vital question in Costa Rica.
All I want for Christmas are…… socks!
Quick, what did you get for Christmas this year? What did you get for Christmas last year?
I don’t know if I can name a favorite gift from every Christmas, but I know I can name one from my last two Christmases. I got the same thing, this year and last year but I don’t want it next year that’s for sure. Yet, if I do get it, it will be the best present once again. Have I piqued your interest yet?
Happy to see her bros and sis's
Ben gets one of the first hugs on the way to momma
Finally made it into momma's arms
daddy, Jo, Jake, Kassie busting a move down the hill of death
hurry up, let's do it again!
paused for a minute to get a pic of the whole gang again
I didn't need a workout after the 47th "I wanna do it again".
Livy and Jo with a little winter swinging, that usually drops the wind chill by about 15 degrees.
Jake and Jo in their current favorite outfits
a little art time making ornaments
Present time! I love my new hat!
Excuse me sir, can I please take your order?
Peppernuts
Now, as an outsider, when you read the title of this post I can only imagine what you must be thinking. However, it is again about tradition and food, two of my favorite things. You see since as long as I can remember peppernuts have been a part of my life. They bring back memories of some of the most simple and pleasurable seasons of my childhood. For you to understand, first you must have an idea what they are; a cookie. Yes, a cookie. But not just any cookie. They are a very small, very hard, very gingery type of cookie. That may not sound so special, but to me it is very special.
the log of dough, not so appetizing in this form
Peppernuts have a very distinct smell, a spicy, ginger snap odor that when heated, fills the house and instantly screams Christmas. The only time we have peppernuts is Christmas time, and we have a lot of them. Mom, or now Tra will make a 10 pound log of peppernut dough, wrap it in Saran wrap, and store it in the fridge. Then, when the urge strikes there will be a rolling party. The rolling is the forming of the peppernut cookie, and it almost always involves a group of kids, gathered around the kitchen taking quarter size pieces of the dough into their thoroughly washed hands, and then rolling them in their palms until they form a perfect circle. Then the ball is placed on a cookie sheet, evenly ( not so much) spaced and ready for cooking. Once placed in the oven, magic happens. The cookies come out dark brown and shaped like a teeny dome, rock hard and perfect.
Shyla wants in on this peppernut rolling party
I wonder if Alli knew there was a camera near?
“A rock hard cookie?” I hear you screaming. But that is the beauty of the peppernut. It is not meant just to plop in your mouth, although that is quite enjoyable that way, but it is meant to be dunked. It is an activity food, like the fondue of cookies.
This is where the memories come in. I remember, as a child, the kitchen full of baking goodies, a fresh batch of peppernuts, and the four of us kids sitting around the table dunking our peppernuts in warm milk.I remember many times, me with my warm milk, grandpa or my dad with his coffee and cream ( enough cream sometimes that it looked like milk) sitting together at the table dunking peppernuts. There is something so perfect about the mixed aroma of peppernuts and coffee. I remember, year after year being taught the proper way to dunk and then eat a peppernut, even though by age 10 I considered myself an expert. Yet I never interjected, I just sat and watched the same presentation I had seen the year or week before, enjoying every minute of it.
brown buttons
a mound of heaven and spices
Now you can’t just throw them in the milk, there is a definite skill involved. You see the dome shape is made for dunking. the flat part of the cookie should be on the top of your dunking medium of choice, and you should let it sit there until it just about looses its buoyancy, and slowly began to sink. At that exact moment, you save it from the grasp of the certain death, and gently slide your spoon under the treat. IF you wait just a second too long, the dome will sink, and recovery of an intact cookie is as rare as the Godfrey home with no kids in it. Unless, of course you have years of training and skills, much like myself. More often than not, the sunk cookie will disintegrate, leaving chunks of mush in your beverage, which is pleasant for no one. But if you do it right, then from the cup, to your mouth, memories in cookie form.
getting ready for a dunk in some hot coffee, with hardly any milk in it.
the drop
Perfect time for the retrieval! I can smell the mixture of ginger, cinnamon, coffee and pure yumminess.
So there is very little that makes me happier than coming home from work and seeing my family gathered around the kitchen counter rolling peppernuts as fast as their little hands can move. I become instantly excited that soon I will be sitting at the table, dunking peppernuts and explaining for the dozenth time the essence of the perfect dunk to anyone who will listen, and even to those that won’t. Although I am sure they think they are experts.
oops, guess I'll have to eat the ones I spilled. Good thing they are carb, fat, and sugar-free!
