Ice Cream...Penguin Style

    Centralia, Missouri is the most kid friendly small town I have ever visited.  I am delighted my grandchildren live in such a nice, family oriented place.  About two weeks ago, Tommy and I stayed with Jacy and Logan while Tami attended a book convention in Nashville, Tenn. It was a busy, fun time for all four of us. The one name that kept coming up was "The Penguin Place". This place was mentioned every time we made plans to dine out.  Finally, on our last night there we made a trip to "The Penguin Place".  It was everything the kids said it would be and then some.

    When we walked in the store,  our eyes were bombarded with the brightest garden of colors this side of Oz...and we loved it.  After stepping inside the door,  we knew we were going to have a good time. The day had been humid and at times filled with rain, stepping inside the ice cream parlor the temperature immediately dropped by twenty degrees. I was in heaven. Tommy and I had never visited a shop like this one. The store looked, felt and smelled delicious. The four of us walked up and down the isle reading all the choices. We could also sample any ice cream for free.  We had 21 flavors of yogurt, gelato, and custard to make our combinations.  We also had 38 toppings to pick and choose. We could get one or all.  It was up to us.

 When we finished our creations, it was time to pay for our desserts.  The attendant took my bowl and weighed it. Now that was a scary thought. All the time Jacy and I had been playing with the crazy titles, the ice cream tub expanded.  The attendant weighed everyone's bowl of over flowing ice cream.  Next she figured up our bill and it came to a little over twenty five dollars.  I knew it would be expensive for four, out of this world creations, so I wasn't exactly surprised.  My face, however, must have looked surprised
because Logan whispered, "Do you want me to put back some of my gummy worms." I started laughing.  I gave him a hug and told him his gummy worms were safe, Papa and I had this and we were fine.  Logan smiled and seemed relieved. I really do not think he wanted to part with his stack of worms...but the offer was sweet.

 

 

When we sat down to eat, we began trading bites and telling the names of our ice cream choices.  One of mine was "wedding cake" and it tasted like wedding cake. We ate all sorts of exotic named ice creams. The remarkable thing was all the creations really did taste like their namesakes.                                         

We had a good time, ate too much and made some memories. The next time we are in Centralia, one of the first places we will visit is the 'Penguin Place'. It comes highly recommended by the Carters and Johnmeyers.
                                                                                                                                                                  

 

This is What Happens When I Forget my Camera...

   There is something infinitely beautiful about a newborn fawn.  The unique size;  small, fragile and camouflaged to perfection.  The persistence of the infant to walk,  followed by the urge to nurse are instinctively present in the fawn at birth.  Legs wobble and weave as the fawn tries to stand his ground attempting to take steps only to stumble and fall.  Mom is watching closely, nudging and licking his body.  The baby begins to see his new world. He stops and rests for a few seconds;  his mother encourages him to nurse.  He thinks to himself as he tastes his first sip of milk, "Now that is what I am talking about! All this beautiful scenery and breakfast to boot!!  I am so gonna love livin' here.."  After nourishment and a nap, both mother and baby are ready to explore their surroundings.

   About this time, Tommy and I entered  the picture.  We were on our way to town, maybe a mile from home, when we spotted our first fawn of the season. The little deer could not have been over a few days old.  He was wobbly and so tiny, standing alone in the middle of our gravel road.  His mom was in the road ditch about ten feet from him.  He could not get his sense of direction correct.  He tried his best to reach his mother; he could not make it happen.

 We stopped our car about twenty yards from the small deer, rolled down our windows and watched the sweet trials of a lost newborn.

   I had forgotten my camera and did not get a photo of this awesome experience.  But my mind's eye remembers it all.  The baby took  two steps in one direction and stopped.  A minute or so later, he began wandering off  to the wrong side of the road.  His mother made a small bleating sound and the grass by the edge of the road moved slightly.  The fawn turned to look at the moving grass.  He turned his little body around and slowly took three steps...then sat down.  The gravel hurt his tender feet; his newborn legs grew tired as he plopped  down in the middle of the road  to rest and looked around.

   Tommy and I watched as he smelled the rocks, sand and dirt.  We shut the motor off and literally stared in amazement as the baby deer, too small to walk across the road at one time, sat down in the wrong place to rest.  His mother was anxious and trying her best to get him to get up and moving toward her. He looked at our car as if to wonder what kind of animal that big white thing was. He wasn't afraid. We received no more than a passing glance.  Once again his mother had his attention. He finally got the the message to get up and move in her direction.  He was anything but fast or graceful. He could not decide which end to raise first...neither one worked all that great. Finally, he raised his front two legs and the rear end--more or less-- followed. He was standing up...again. Slowly, ever so slowly he walked toward his mother and into the tall green grass. In three seconds,  they were gone.

    Tommy and I sat there a few minutes longer, talking and laughing, remembering the mini movie nature had provided for us. Suddenly going to the theater to see, "Jurassic World" seemed a little off kilter.  We had just seen Mother Nature at her best.  We weren't up for watching  Mother Nature in a rage today. We decided to drive the back roads and enjoy the sights, sounds and aromas of small uncivilized spots of ground.  While we were at it, we hoped to witness another miracle.

   The miracle of life is everywhere this time of year. The fields are rich with random flowers growing and thriving in places people never planted.  Queen Anne's lace accents orange day lilies. Yellow and white daises snuggle behind, across and in front of the lilies. Blue bonnets ramble through the ditches, and fields.  Next year all these plants will multiply and appear in the same unusual places...cow pastures, road ditches, wood lots and forests.   People will drive down old gravel roads  and think of the beauty they are viewing.  For a few minutes or a few hours,  all appears right in their corner of the world.

                                          

   The photo of the fawn was taken from a calendar. All rights belong to the photographer. The daylilies are my photo.

Every Home Could Use One of These...

   Little did I know when I woke up June 18th, I would end up punching a rubber man...and liking it...but I did. Tommy had promised our grandson, Logan, a punching bag and gloves for karate classes.  Columbia seemed like the most logical place to find what we needed.  First stop was Dick's Sporting Goods Store. They never let us down, when we need something.  As we entered the store Tommy and Logan took off to check out camping gear. Jacy and I searched for the work out gear department.  They had everything imaginable to loose weight, add muscles and relieve tension. Jacy and I were delighted. 

   As we walked around we found a 5 foot rubber man in dire need of a punch. So that is exactly what we did...we punched him.  In fact we made up little goofy remarks as we punched his face...repeatedly. I remember saying, "So you really don't like the way I make lasagna??"  "Well take this!! ..followed by another round of ".Bam, Wham....double bam!!"...  We were on a roll. Jacy chimed in with, "How dare you eat ALL the pop tarts!!"  We both busted out laughing as the little rubber man took a punch to the gut, followed by a pretty good upper cut. We were on a roll and having fun.  Perhaps it is not your normal grandmother and granddaughter outing, however far be it from us to be 'normal'. Plus we had fun.

   Next we found a punching bag and a small oval punching ball.  I think I liked the ball best.  I could really get my left hand to flying on that one. Jacy was about to cry, she was laughing so hard.  Evidently, I need a little work on my form. I was hopping around, dipping and diving.  We had the department to ourselves and if it looked like it was punchable...we punched it.  Later we find out we were on camera. What can I say?  It was unscheduled fun...just the way I like it.

   
   Tommy and Logan show up about the time I hit the punching bag as hard as I could. Tommy applauded, Logan laughed, and  Jacy walked off leaving  me on my own.

   Tommy was laughing when he said, "We heard you two, three isles over...that is why we are here.  Just wanted to make sure whoever you all were attacking was going to live!"

   That is when I told him I thought every home should have one of these.  Just think of all the exercise we could get. When frustrated with people or life, we could go a couple of rounds with the punching ball or the little rubber man until we felt better. He shook his head and said, "NO! It would end up hanging on the arm of you 'brand new' ten year old treadmill."  He has a point. A very good point, however that has never stopped me before. That is exactly the same way I got my treadmill. We shall see...Think I will sign off and do a few rounds of shadow boxing... just in case.
                                                                                              

Imagine...

   Imagine turning on the car radio while you drive home, on a Sunday night,  around 9 p.m. Usually you are home before dark, however tonight you stayed longer at your friends home than you intended.  You are alone in the car. You can see the city limits in your rearview mirror.  What lies ahead is an empty road and a full moon.  The date is Oct. 30, 1938, Tomorrow is Halloween, however the Columbia Broadcasting System has started airing a Halloween special early. Unfortunately you tuned in late and missed that part of the program. What you are hearing sounds real.  After adjusting the radio channel to block the static you interrupt  a man's booming voice as he slowly, methodically presents a series of news bulletins.  You turn the radio up just a hair because you are having trouble believing what your ears are hearing.  The " anchorman", Orson Welles,  is reporting news bulletins from all over the world.  Snippets of mass hysteria explode through the air waves as the news bulletins suggest the world has been invaded by Martians. The war of the worlds has begun.  That my friends, would be a horrible situation to find yourself in, no matter how old or brave you think you  are.

      I wasn't alive in 1938.  In fact my parents were kids at that time. I have never listened to  the original program.  I have read the novel written by H.G.Wells , "The War of the Worlds"  and watched the remake of the movie several  times. Both the book and the movie captured the imagination of millions of people who silently wondered, 'What if?'

    In my lifetime I have had several 'what if moments'. Things happened that I could not explain.  I know what I saw...I think.  I  cannot, for the life of me, explain what I saw in a logical manner without someone rolling his or her eyes,  while trying to explain away my version of reality.

    One event happened in 2006.  I was working the night shift, at a mental hospital, in a nearby town.  As I was driving to work my radio started cutting in and out. The trees were interfering with my reception. I glanced at the clock and the time was 10:32 p.m.

    I was driving on 'Broken Bridge Road', a backwoods cutoff between my home and work.  As I drove out of the woods into a small clearing I saw a bright light in front of me. It was the size of a nickel standing out against the black night sky.  The moon was located three fields away from the round object. There were no stars or reflections of the object in the sky.  The object appeared to be a round white light hanging in midair.  I watched it for about six seconds.   Immediately after those six seconds it shut itself off and disappeared.  There was no sound, no lingering light effects in the sky. Nothing.  The night no longer felt normal.  Most of me wanted to turn around and drive as fast as I could home.  It was too late to call in so I drove to Fulton in record time.  I was still mulling over the event when I pulled into the employee parking lot. 

   I didn't mention it that night. I listened to see if anyone saw anything unusual in the sky. No one that I worked with mentioned anything. I started to mention it but I changed my mind. After all I work in a mental hospital, people there are always seeing things unexplainable.  Not all of those people are locked up.  I waited a few days and nothing was ever mentioned. I told Tommy and he believed me.  Something was there.  Something messed with the night sky.  Something disappeared into thin air while I watched.  I can only imagine what it could be...

Tornado Warning...Who Knew???

  Yesterday was one of those days when it was next to impossible for me to make a decision.  I am not usually this way.  I wake up with a plan and an agenda.  I may not do the plan but I have one just in case. 

   When we woke up yesterday  morning we kicked the idea around about going  to the movies to see "San Andreas".  For two weeks we have debated about when to see this movie.  Since it was the last day it played in Fulton, we either had to go to town or wait and buy the DVD. I checked the times the movie  played. It was showing at 1:30 and 7:20. We checked the weather channel and we were in a 100% chance of rain and thunderstorms category.   For me that meant my hair was going to frizz and refuse to do anything vaguely normal.  It also meant I had to get dressed.  Neither of those options sounded like fun to me.  I threw the ball of indecision at Tommy.  He had no preference one way or the other. To quote him, "Whatever you want to do is fine with me".  Just that quick the ball of indecision was sent back to me.  I changed my mind four times. The storms were responsible for two decisions,  our bathroom mirror was responsible for the third, a nap knocked out the 1:30 time slot. However, the 7:20 time slot was still an option. I really did not want to go to the movies or we would have gone. It was that simple, or should have been. The  five year old child's voice, who rents a room in my head,  reared its mouthy little fuzzy noggin and said, "We are staying home on a Saturday night...Why???  I want to go to town. I want to see a movie!  Everyone has plans but us...I want to go somewhere!"  Then she stomped her foot.  So, I took that little heifer to the garage. She shut up and sulked for the rest of the afternoon.  Tommy was in the process of moving my potting soil around to make more room for a swing he put up for us yesterday.

  The skies were getting dark and a low rumble of thunder could be heard all around our area. Summer lightning flashed behind black clouds illuminating their portion of the heavens. Soon Tommy and I were sitting in the swing watching as a perfect lightning show began to perform for us.  Our dogs were close by our side. Sabella would have been in Tommy's lap if she didn't weigh 125 pounds. Sandy, is almost deaf and wanted to go in the house to take a nap. She stayed by my right foot for the duration of the storm. She wasn't particularly happy.  She sighed many times, looked at me with her big brown eyes and flopped her head down on her blanket...completely exasperated with me and  her life at that moment.

   Tommy and I had a wonderful time. The storm was intense and long. Rain pounded the already saturated ground. I am sure we received an inch of rain if not more. The summer lightning changed from quick flashes to jagged spears, miles long, ripping the skies wide open for a few seconds,  while pouring out a vile of  Mother Natures wrath. The thunder shook the ground and the garage.

  Suddenly, the black clouds joined forces to form a wall front. It was a solid mass of blackness for a few seconds.  The wall began to unravel.  Tommy and I both said at the same time, "Anything could drop out of that mass."  Clouds attempted to drop but fell apart before they could become a funnel. They failed to create a tornado ...it wasn't because they didn't try.  The storm finally moved on  while we waited for round two to arrive. We made a mad dash to the house, laughing like two kids. It was amazing. We had a great time...then we turned on the weather channel and found out we had been spared the wrath of a tornado. The warning had expired. I looked at Tommy saying, "That was a great show and a close call!  Let's stay home."  Tommy laughed, "Finally, we have a plan."  And we did...sort of.






The photo is a postcard I purchased years ago on Zazzle. All rights belong to the photographer.

  

Perfection Found--Perfection Lost...

                

    Rome, Italy was the most exotic city my husband and I had experienced.  Tangy aromas of  food flirted with our nostrils as we strolled the brick streets in the old section of the city.  Outdoor cafes were colorful,  abundant and romantic.  Flowers and vines hung loose and free falling from the second story  balconies dating back to World War ll.  The shades of grey and green ivy slowly dripped off the balcony and  infiltrated the surrounding walls, slipping and tangling together creeping down the walls  to each cafe . At the base of the walls, multicolored climbing roses met the ivy in mid air creating a blooming mosaic against the wall.  The fragrance of night blooming jasmine completed the image of another time, another place.   Often violin  music could be heard as couples sipped their choice of  Italian wines, amid whispers of love and laughter.   My husband and I ordered a bottle of Dolcetto wine. The toast to our 45th wedding anniversary spoken for our ears only. We wanted to savor the toast and the wine, letting the words whisper in our ears while the wine rolled gently over our tongues. Forty five years is a long time to spend together as husband and wife and as doctors. We had lived many lives during this long span of days and nights. More good memories than bad were created.

   Our lives were busy...always busy. We had raised three daughters and a son.  Several of our children  had children of their own; others had careers, all were happy.  We enjoyed the occasional weekend together as a family  and all holidays. My husband and I counted our blessings.  While waiting for our dinner to arrive we talked, sharing our favorite memories.  A few moments later we were brought back to reality as we watched a beautiful young woman walk toward our table. There was a purpose in her stride. Thoughts surfaced from a deep well of memories in each of us as the woman approached our table.

   Until a few years ago my  husband and I were both geneticists.  We became wealthy;  working to create perfection for the company referred to as 'Imogene Tri-X".  When we witnessed perfection in beautiful people we were always amazed and inquisitive.   When we created perfection in the lab we were also amazed and awed by the wedding of the mind and technology.  When perfection eluded us, we tried to correct our mistakes. We were not 100% accurate all the time.

   As the lady reached our table, we took in her appearance with some apprehension.  She was lovely.   A tall, slim woman with long ebony hair, flying  loosely around her face as the evening breeze began to increase.  Huge black sunglasses covered most of her face;  soon the sunglasses would no longer be necessary.  " Are you Dr. Elliot James and Dr. Elizabeth James?" she asked.
 
   My husband and I glanced at each other before speaking.  We were not famous and we preferred  to remain unknown.  Our work was classified information.  Finally, my husband asked, " May I ask who wants to know?"  A heavy silence hung in the air while the woman debated how to approach us now that she had our attention.  "My name is Imogene Gainsley." she said as she removed her sunglasses. "And I need your help." 

   At last we could see her face.  Although she was beautiful there was something unusual and memorable about her face.  Her cheeks, nose and the eyebrow area were covered in small black dots resembling freckles.  Looking closer,  the small dots began to move ever so slightly; to the right, then to the left, a mad scramble followed by a lull in movement.   Suddenly the dots began  increasing  speed once again, as we gazed at her face.  At first the dots created vague tattoo like images that continually changed moment by moment.  A dragon became a praying mantis, next a syringe and then a child's hand.  Eventually, the dots appeared to be spelling words and making a statement. All other drawings disappeared to join in the writing process.  As the dots reached the bridge of  Imogene's nose, they began to slowly assemble under her right eye- the words sprawled -"You did this" ...seconds later the words returned to small transitional black dots. The woman's face paled as drops of sweat covered her upper lip. She grimaced from a moment of hot searing pain. Then beauty once again gained control of her face. The dots chose to remain under her right eye and slowly slide down the side of her jaw. Fighting back tears, Imogene refused to cry.

   No one said a word as we all three tried to absorb what had just happened. Imogene  was the first to speak, as she slowly sat down at our table.  "Can you help me?" she asked.  Without batting an eye, my husband and I said in unison, "I don't know...I really don't know."

   The dots immediately assembled and replied, "You better know...you better know."