Monthly Archives: March 2012

It happened again.  Kind of like it did in ~ I Hate You ~, but the results were drastically, staggeringly different.

I’ve found myself alone, again.  I’m a social critter.  I don’t do well when I’m alone for long periods of time.

My Critter and Varmint are off to visit the Deep South for Spring Break.  My Captain is at work at the Firestation.  My cats are off licking their tender parts, and my fish is a jerk.

Here I am late in the evening, too wired to go to bed, and so I wander around the cottage bored and increasingly anxious in my solitude.

I hate where my brain goes when it is unchecked by more rational, left-brained people.  It’s a weird, Charlie and The Chocolate Factory/ James and The Giant Peach / Alice in Wonderland kind of place.

I don’t know how they all go together, but they do in my mind, which gives you an indication of my mood.

My safest bet is turning to food, which in turn will make me sleepy, which will help me turn off my wacky brain.  The last time this happened, all I could find was the makings of a salad.  And I hate salad more than I hate pants that continually ride up until your underwear feels like a thong.

But I ate it.

Tonight, when my thoughts turned to food, I found the least healthy choice available, and jumped at it.

When you have something that contains the four food groups: Salt, Fat, Sugar, and Cholesterol, you can bet I’m all in. Oh yeah, you can take that to the bank.

So let me paint this picture for you:

First: A plate with mayonnaise, then, Sweet Pickle Relish, then Lemon Juice, and topped with Dill.

And then Gingerly, and Ever So Lovingly, I placed these babies side by side on top:

Beer Battered Cod.

Oh HONEY.  I LOVE YOU.

I know we’re not right for each other, and that you are bad…so very very bad.  You’re so bad that you’re good….mmmmmmmmmm.

And now something to wash you down…something cold.  Something Numerical:

Ah yes…. I like the numbers 151.  Especially when they are served in an old cheese jar with ice and Sprite.  Come to me, my darling.

I think I’m making progress in this whole co-dependence thing with My Captain.   I’ve moved from nasty, disappointing salads to fat-laden battered fish and mind-numbing spirits.

I can’t wait to see what the next bout of loneliness brings…..

My two favorite words:  Hershey’s, and Ice Cream.

(….Isn’t that three words? …. Just go with it…)

We have a little ice cream shop in the tiny hamlet of Beallsville, Maryland.  It sits caddy-corner to our firehouse, at the cross roads of Beallsville Road and Rt. 28.

The building itself has seen many incarnations.  It used to be a restaurant named “Staub’s,” known for it’s amazing hush puppies.  It’s been many other things too.  But right now it is used by a local family, The Harney Family, Gary, Paul, and Gibbie, for a variety of purposes, the greatest and most noble of which is Ice Cream.

They also have a locksmith, security business, gift shop, and other things.

But did I mention the Ice Cream?

I can walk away from most things, but I can’t seem to drive past The Twisted Cone.  And if I did, the Varmint and Critter in the back seat would make their objections known most audibly… And possibly painfully.

My first mistake was starting a tradition during the last school year where every Friday I would drive my Brats up for Ice Cream after school.

It wasn’t long before we were doing frequent mid-week stops.

And then of course we had to make stops after sporting events: Track, Softball, Thumb Wars, Rock Paper Scissor Games, those kinds of things.

At some point someone dared us to try every flavor.  I think it was one of the owners.

We don’t back down from dares.

All I know is that it’s one of our “Happy Places”.  A place my kids will remember when they are older.

You know, when I’m dead, after my arteries have fully occluded.

But I will have died happy, that’s for darn sure!

Since it’s Spring Break, I let Critter and Varmint choose their breakfast Menu.  We had:

Broccoli Frittata

Egg in a Nest (fried egg in toast)

Home-made Hashed Browns

Golden Graham Cereal

and Selgatang

It was eclectic, if not delicious.

“Mom? Why don’t you make breakfast like this everyday?”

Uhhhhh……

“Hmmmm….I have no idea, Kids.”

My son is destined to be on the Food Network one day.  Or, if there is a bartending channel by then, he’ll be on that.

He loves to invent drinks.  At this point, he’s relegated to juice, Gatorade, pop and other under-age liquids, but I have no doubt to what is coming in future decades.

He wanted me to share with you one of his newest creations:  “Selgatang”

He actually went to the computer, On His Own, and created the instructions, so I would be able to make it ‘just right’.  He’s a perfectionist, you see.

And then you end up with this:

Here is the soon-to-be-famous Selgatang with its creator, “Critter”:

Who loves the camera, and loves his fans:

And here he is blowing the camera (and you) a kiss.  Wow.

What a Ham.

We needed to go!  There was no flexibility on the timing of our leaving.

My Captain gave us all the ten minute warning.  He also suggested that anyone who had to ‘go’, needed to do so now.

No one got up or stopped what they were doing.  He might have had an absent minded nod or two come his way, but otherwise there wasn’t much motivation going on.

Two minutes before we absolutely had to go, there was a mad scramble for socks and shoes.  I began barking at the kids that this was exactly why we had a ten minute warning policy!

One minute before we had to go, Varmint goes to the bathroom!  Argh!

“Honey! Why didn’t you go earlier?!”

“Because I didn’t need to then, Mom!”

My Captain is looking at his watch and his brow is starting to furrow. I hate it when it does that.

Critter is wandering aimlessly around in the yard, sort of – kind of in the direction of the car.

It’s one minute past the time we absolutely needed to go.  Varmint gets out of the bathroom, apologizing profusely.  My Captain nods and pushes her out the door, and holds it open for me.

Only to find that I wasn’t there.

I had to go to the bathroom.

I didn’t see it, but I can just imagine he looked up at the ceiling and said a few choice words.

Something along the lines of “I sure do love that gal.”