… allow me to share a few thoughts about chocolate.

First, I need to share with you an issue I have with Chocoladefabriken Lindt & Sprüngli, the company who makes Lindt truffles.  Their chocolates are not at issue; they are undeniably yummy.  But I find their advertising misleading.  I take particular issue with the TV ad that features a woman hosting a holiday party.  With everyone in full celebratory mode, she walks across the room, sits down and sneaks a Lindt truffle from a candy dish.  Slowly she pulls the ends of the shiny foil wrapper exposing the chocolatey orb of deliciousness.

I’m 100% with her at this moment.  Yes sister!  Sit, relax and take a deep breath.  Enjoy this moment with your loved ones.  And enjoy that velvety sweet truffle.  As a matter of fact, grab a second one, you deserve it!

But then the ad goes awry.  The woman slowly raises the truffle to her mouth. And then…takes a bite, a single bite of the truffle, implying that a Lindt truffle is at minimum a two-bite piece of candy!  It is not.

Am I the only one who sees this as false advertising?  Am I the only one who believes that the correct way, the universally accepted way to eat a Lindt truffle is to throw it in your mouth (whole) and do with it what you will?  Let it melt, immediately chew it, whatever.  If you need a second bite, unwrap another truffle.

Am I wrong here?

If you are a two-bite truffle eater, may I ask you why?  You can’t be concerned about choking.  I’ve never seen anyone choke on milk chocolate.  I frequently choke on raw carrots when I eat them, but never have I ever choked on chocolate.  If you are a two-bite Lindt truffle eater, please leave me a note in the comments below and enlighten me.  Perhaps I’m wrong.

Moving on. 

Continue reading “It’s National Chocolate Day…”

Ahhh-ctober!  Welcome to the month of hayrides, gourds and…you either love it or hate it…candy corn.  Welcome to slight breezes with a nip of chilly.  Welcome to a month inviting you to enjoy the first homemade stew of the season, roasted marshmallows, mums in full bloom and the cozy smell of wood smoke.

Here in the Midwest, October ushers in parades of humongous cumulus clouds floating against the bluest of skies.  Reverent space is held for the trees as they perform their final act, dazzling us with splashes of yellows, reds and orange everywhere you look.  Sandhill Cranes begin their migration.  Flying high overhead, these birds talk to one another in excited squawks as they make their way south. (Hey, who doesn’t like to winter in Florida?) Their conversations make me smile, stop what I’m doing and watch as they surf the air currents and revel in what sounds to me like an incredibly fun in-flight cocktail party.

October is also the month of ghosts, goblins and witches.  Personally, I don’t believe in ghosts. I never used to believe in goblins but after seeing one take over the White House (TWICE!) I am now a believer.  Goblins are indeed among us. (*See the actual definition of ‘goblin’ below and tell me it isn’t him!) 

But witches?  Don’t pooh-pooh the witches. 

Continue reading “Curses and Hexes and Spells…Oh My!”

Of the 24 goals I made for myself at the beginning of 2022 I successfully accomplished 8.5.  Am I embarrassed by my lack of success? Nah, not in the least.  My fourth grade teacher made it abundantly clear to me that I do not live up to my full potential.  And that’s ok because I would be too much of a force if I had a type A personality on top of my inherent muchness.

I will not tell you about the 8.5 things I did accomplish because I don’t want to be braggadocious. But I will share a few of my abysmal failures.  First, no matter how many years I try to commit to the practice, I was simply unable to drink eight glasses of water daily.  Don’t judge me.  I have also failed again this year to lose weight.  Don’t judge me.  After 40 some years of marriage, I cooked something not even Garv could stomach…my failed attempt to roast a perfect brisket.  And my biggest fail was my goal to talk less and listen more.  I don’t even know how that goal entered my mind much less made the list.

Now 2023 is coming to an end. Many of my peers have remarked about how the year seemed to just fly by.  Older people and people with young kids seem to always make that claim.  Neuroscientists have come up with several theories about our perception of time.  My favorite is called the “oddball effect.”  The theory states that being engaged in a novelty (something oddball) gives the perception of time passing at a slower rate.  So, when we have a novel experience or meet new people or make lifestyle changes we experience a deeper engagement. This deeper attention seems to slow time and also produce more meaningful memories.  I can attest to this theory.

Continue reading “2023:  The Year of Loosey Goosey”

“If you drink too much from a bottle marked ‘poison,’ it’s almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.”

That’s the first movie line I committed to memory.   It originates from Disney’s “Alice in Wonderland” which I first saw when I was four. That line has resided deep within the folds of my brain for a long time. Perhaps if I deleted it from memory I could replace it with my Meijer mPerks pin. I can never remember that pin.  But Alice’s statement continues to deliver good advice.  And, who doesn’t love a well placed understatement?   

The point here is that all forms of art can make lasting impressions.  Good art, even animation, challenges perspective.  It educates, entertains and/or enlightens.  The delivery can be subliminal.  Quiet.  It can be existential.  It can be a yell in your face ‘your nose is going to grow if you lie’ kind of delivery. 

At my age, I am again watching art in animated form.  Over the last four years I have watched 23 full length animated movies with two of my grandsons.  The first was “Cars.”  To my surprise, I loved it.  How could a movie go wrong with Owen Wilson, Bonnie Hunt, Paul Newman and Cheech Marin in the cast?   

A few weeks ago we decided to watch Dreamworks’ “The Bad Guys.”  The movie opened with a well dressed wolf and a hat wearing python sitting in a NYC diner a la Seinfeld.  Their banter was quick and filled with double entendre.  After a few minutes, they left the diner and robbed a bank.  They then picked up their other friends involved in the heist and a high speed police chase ensued.  The bad guys successfully escaped leaving crashed police cars in their wake.  (Think “Pulp Fiction” mixed with “Fast and Furious” and a smidgen of “Oceans 11.”)

Continue reading “Alice vs. The Bad Guys”

WHAACK!  POW!  KA-BOOM!!  Holy speech balloons Batman, today is National Comic Book day!

We preteen boomers were big consumers of comic books.  And our parents seemed to view Superman, Captain America and the likes as appropriate and innocuous characters for us to befriend.  

But were comic books innocuous?

I was about 10 when I began receiving a meager allowance.  My parents probably thought it would teach me the value of a buck or in my case, the value of a quarter.  It did not.  On allowance day I ran to the drugstore to purchase candy cigarettes and an Archie comic book, quickly becoming addicted to both.  My dentist ended my abuse of those sweet, chalky, red tipped candy cigarettes. Unfortunately my parents made no effort to thwart my comic book addiction.

 

Continue reading “Archie’s Girls – Rated PG13?”

This happens every August.  My flowers play host to an astonishing number of bees, butterflies and hummingbirds.  It is almost a guarantee that a baby Praying Mantis will be discovered somewhere on or near the house.  The three foot State Fair zinnias take center stage in the gardens while the rosebuds prepare to open for one final encore.   The skies become deeper, clearer and bluer and I am fully delighted and mesmerized by the low, flat bottomed towers of fluffy cumulus clouds frequently floating above.  Sometime around mid August there are light breezes that glide nearly imperceptibly over my skin and for a fleeting moment, I feel a soupçon of a chill in the air.    

All of this August-ness, the slight chill in the air in particular, transports me back to high school and college.  The zinnias make me think about homecoming dances and corsages and football games.  The skies and clouds place me smack dab in the middle of any number of cross country meets.  And that gentle slightly chilled breeze against my skin gives me goose-bumps as I can easily recall the thrill I felt at the beginning of every school year standing at the precipice of clean slates, new beginnings, promise and wide open potential, future loves and friendships.

As August and summer quickly come to pass, I find myself wishing I could be as excited today about the potential of the next nine months as I was in my youth.  It is not easy at a boomer age to find opportunities to build community, find new challenges and embrace possibilities.

Continue reading “Possibilities”

Is it just me or have you too been feeling a little ‘elder peer pressure?’  The message is loud and clear that someone, though I haven’t yet figured out whom, is demanding that we leave our boomer sized comfort zones and spend our final decades recreating, expanding and challenging ourselves.  Now.  And in a big way.

Newspapers, magazines, websites, social media and even PBS are pushing the notion that we boomers should be traveling, cycling through Europe, running marathons, making new friends, writing Pulitzer prize winning books and starting new businesses in between spending quality time with the grandkids.    

Have you seen the commercial that opens with a coed walking across a college campus?  She looks up and is pleasantly surprised to see her grandmother waiting for her near the sidewalk.  Grandma is standing next to her candy apple red Jeep.  She flashes a sheepish smile at her granddaughter and asks, “Road Trip?”  The granddaughter beams and says “Yeah!”  (Come on.  What college coed would prefer a road trip with granny over a frat party or football game?  Unless of course there is a known inheritance of some sort.)

Anyway, granny gets behind the wheel of her Jeep, granddaughter buckles up and off they go for an exciting whirlwind weekend.  They ride bikes, do yoga by the lake, eat triple scoop ice cream cones-no chocolate (again lacks believability), ride a roller coaster, paddle boat and hike.  They perform synchronized classic Arabesque poses while riding electric scooters, attend the theater in the evening and finish off with a little post Sunday brunch shopping.  (Rumor has it the advertisers planned on ending the commercial with a shot of them sharing a doob on their boutique hotel rooftop patio but time constraints forced them to drop that scene.) 

Continue reading “Forever Young?”

Goodbye June and hello to the 11^th day of summer…the 26^th Friday…the 27^th week…and the 182^nd day of 2022, aka July 1^st, 2022.  Simply stated, we have blown through the first half of 2022 which begs the question,

“How are those New Year’s Goals/Resolutions/”Intentions” going?”

Mine are not going so well.  Few have been crossed off my list, ok; none of them have been crossed off.  I admit I was a little disappointed with myself until I realized how very busy the first half of the year has been. 

The chaotic speed began in mid January just after the Christmas decorations were taken down, boxed and stored.  By the time I reorganized our personal files for 2022 it was time to begin pulling tax information together.  Then it was time to schedule all those annual dental and physical exams.  And there were the hours I spent shoveling snow.  (Wink) 

February rolled around and of course I had to support our Olympians in Beijing.  I spent many late nights cheering on our athletes and in particular watching Shaun White Mistyflip in the Pew Pew a few more times. 

March brought NCAA Men’s Basketball madness and when your alma mater takes the hardwood, you have to be the sixth man, right?  Also in March, the red carpet rolls out for Oscar.  I had not seen any of the nominated movies, and that was just flat out unacceptable for me, a movie lover.  I spent a good ten nights streaming nominated flicks.  What is life without art?  The goals/projects list would have to wait until April.

April was productive and I was, in fact on a roll completing some projects, becoming somewhat disciplined and more scheduled.  But that momentum came to a screeching halt in May when I had cataract surgery.  The surgery went well, but these blue eyes were cattywampus for most of the month while they were healing.  This made reading difficult, physical labor ill advised and cooking absolutely too risky.  (Wink, wink.)

Continue reading “Happy Half Year Eve?”

This is a photo of a male Veiltail Betta. My eldest grand used his own money to purchase this fish and a tricked out aquarium.  He named the fish Indy and is quite proud of his new friend. 

A few weeks ago, said grandson asked if Indy could ‘vacation’ at my house while he went to Florida on his family vacation. I was honored to be chosen.  He could have asked his friends or cousins or other family members, but he chose ME and I was touched. I had earned a spot on his most trusted “go to” people list!

Indy arrived at my house ready for his vacation in a clean aquarium along with fish food and a thank you note which read:

“Mimi thank you for watching Indy!  2 pellets a.m. and 2 pellets p.m.  Love you.”

I’m not too proud to admit I took pictures of Indy and spent some time staring at and talking to him.  I swear he watched me through the glass, usually giving me his side eye.  I googled “Betta fish” and learned they originated from Thailand’s rice paddies and that betta means “beautiful warrior.” Bettas recognize their human caregivers.  (See, he was actually watching me!)  I was pleased to learn they have a 3-5 year lifespan because the thought had briefly crossed my mind that he could, while in my care, well, you know…

Continue reading “Not Your Basic Fish Tale”