Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry? Ice cream flavors used to be so simple.
This week when I had to select ice cream for a birthday party, I could not believe the array of dazzling choices by the basic ice cream companies in the grocery store. Breyers, for instance, boasted 28 flavors in the original (I'm like a kid in a candy store viewing them), PLUS the sugar-free, fat-free, no carb ice creams.
But surprise! Breyers, like other ice cream companies, has added an upgraded, specialty line. Theirs is called Breyers Blast, and my mouth dropped open when I saw the additional flavors available. Drool probably pooled on the grocery floor.
We're not talking your usual upgrades like mint chocolate chip or cookies and cream. No!!! Flavors called Oreo Birthday Blast, S'mores, and Whoppers Malted Milk Balls flaunted their ice cream cartons at me, smiling in the freezer at my amazement, along with another 16 flavors. I'm overwhelmed by the choices -- 47 in all from only one of the companies.
Even excellent store brands, like Kroger's Private Selection brand, boast amazingly new and delectable flavors. Right now, I'm a devoted fan to Moose Tracks and New England Blueberry Cheesecake.
When did ice cream expand to become such a big business? How do marketing wizards choose such delicious names?
Even the high-priced, specialty ice cream companies, like Ben and Jerry's and Haagen-Daz, have unique offerings. I love some of Ben and Jerry's names -- Chocolate Therapy, Chunky Monkey, Cherry Garcia, Everything But The..., Late Night Snack, Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz Buzz!, Phish Food, Lemonade Stand (a sorbet), and the newest ones, frozen yogurts, called "Greek." Incredible!
There's ice cream for everyone. How can anyone choose? I'm so dazzled that I don't know where to begin.
Any favorites?
Monday, August 27, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Afternoon Delight
Yes, I've just indulged myself in a little "afternoon delight."
I've been lounging in my OSU chair on the back deck, reading a book, and amusing myself with Hippie Dude.
Oh, don't get me wrong -- I've never spoken to Hippie Dude. I only yield to a little Hippie Dude watching, now and then, which has been going on for close to a decade now. And that's exactly what happened today. Engrossed in my book, a raucous crow interrupted me. When I glanced up, there was Hippie Dude swaggering around his lawn.
Hippie Dude earned his nickname from me as he used to sport long hair and a bandana. He's quite entertaining, and sometimes, like today, it's difficult to miss Hippie Dude when he's outside.
Hippie Dude lives two long fields away from me in an apartment that looks like a house, amidst the regular apartments. He has his own garage, and the apartment people do not. He owns a white pickup truck, bigger than his last white pickup truck, as this one has an extended cab. He also owns two motorcycles which he must revere, as he always washes them in the front yard (for me to watch) as soon as he returns from a ride. He must love them. One is an unusual light yellow color.
Sometimes, it's hard not to miss Hippie Dude when I am outside doing yard work or on the deck. He tends to be a little rough around the edges, and his voice carries easily across the two fields. On one occasion, two Girl Scouts had the audacity to knock on Hippie Dude's door. He opened the door, and although I could not hear exactly what was said, I did hear him growl, "Get out of here!" and the two Girl Scouts left in a huff.
On another entertaining occasion, he evidently got into a domestic dispute with his current "honey" (they all appear to be blondes). They squared off with each other on the front lawn, looking like two boxers sparring, interspersed with the sounds of mumbled trash talk and incoherent yelling. The disagreement evidently climaxed when I heard Hippie Dude snarl loudly, "Go ahead -- hit me, Bitch!" She stomped off, jumped into her car, and was never seen again.
Two men in a van came to my yard sale a few years ago. They introduced themselves and told me they were maintenance men for one set of the apartments, but I should make sure not to confuse them by associating them with the trashy apartments. Through their conversation, I learned Hippie Dude's name is really Jeff, and he's a brick layer. No wonder he's so buff.
I can't say I object to the eye candy. I mean, after all, it's right in front of me. As a matter of fact, Hippie Dude goes beyond the normal eye candy. Not only is he bronzed like a God from hours probably working outside, but he usually sports shorts and either a wife beater or no shirt at all.
Hippie Dude is a man-child in his early 30's probably, and from what the maintenance men said, he's a neat freak. No one is allowed in his apartment unless they take their shoes off. He's a hard worker. I'm not interested in any more than gazing from afar, and amusing myself as I do with all people watching. If the eye candy comes home from work after the maintenance men have mowed his grass, however, and he re-mows on the same day to make diagonals in his lawn, how can I not look?
Besides, women of all ages deserve a little eye candy now and then.
I've been lounging in my OSU chair on the back deck, reading a book, and amusing myself with Hippie Dude.
Oh, don't get me wrong -- I've never spoken to Hippie Dude. I only yield to a little Hippie Dude watching, now and then, which has been going on for close to a decade now. And that's exactly what happened today. Engrossed in my book, a raucous crow interrupted me. When I glanced up, there was Hippie Dude swaggering around his lawn.
Hippie Dude earned his nickname from me as he used to sport long hair and a bandana. He's quite entertaining, and sometimes, like today, it's difficult to miss Hippie Dude when he's outside.
Hippie Dude lives two long fields away from me in an apartment that looks like a house, amidst the regular apartments. He has his own garage, and the apartment people do not. He owns a white pickup truck, bigger than his last white pickup truck, as this one has an extended cab. He also owns two motorcycles which he must revere, as he always washes them in the front yard (for me to watch) as soon as he returns from a ride. He must love them. One is an unusual light yellow color.
Sometimes, it's hard not to miss Hippie Dude when I am outside doing yard work or on the deck. He tends to be a little rough around the edges, and his voice carries easily across the two fields. On one occasion, two Girl Scouts had the audacity to knock on Hippie Dude's door. He opened the door, and although I could not hear exactly what was said, I did hear him growl, "Get out of here!" and the two Girl Scouts left in a huff.
On another entertaining occasion, he evidently got into a domestic dispute with his current "honey" (they all appear to be blondes). They squared off with each other on the front lawn, looking like two boxers sparring, interspersed with the sounds of mumbled trash talk and incoherent yelling. The disagreement evidently climaxed when I heard Hippie Dude snarl loudly, "Go ahead -- hit me, Bitch!" She stomped off, jumped into her car, and was never seen again.
Two men in a van came to my yard sale a few years ago. They introduced themselves and told me they were maintenance men for one set of the apartments, but I should make sure not to confuse them by associating them with the trashy apartments. Through their conversation, I learned Hippie Dude's name is really Jeff, and he's a brick layer. No wonder he's so buff.
I can't say I object to the eye candy. I mean, after all, it's right in front of me. As a matter of fact, Hippie Dude goes beyond the normal eye candy. Not only is he bronzed like a God from hours probably working outside, but he usually sports shorts and either a wife beater or no shirt at all.
Hippie Dude is a man-child in his early 30's probably, and from what the maintenance men said, he's a neat freak. No one is allowed in his apartment unless they take their shoes off. He's a hard worker. I'm not interested in any more than gazing from afar, and amusing myself as I do with all people watching. If the eye candy comes home from work after the maintenance men have mowed his grass, however, and he re-mows on the same day to make diagonals in his lawn, how can I not look?
Besides, women of all ages deserve a little eye candy now and then.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Mechanical Differences
Yes, as I've stated before, I'm mechanically challenged and know little about the internal workings of a car engine, but I've always found amusement and delight in "car words." I had forgotten about my earlier discovery of this jargon so unfamiliar to me until posting a Facebook comment today. Maybe I simply have a vivid imagination, but the automotive jargon can certainly be entertaining.
Did you realize there were so many "naughty" terms used in car words? Some of my favorites involve actual parts. I have no idea what these parts are or do, but they definitely heat up my engine, I mean imagination. I particularly like crankshaft, head gasket (especially when blown!), pistons, camshaft push rod, heater, drive belt, tail pipe, heat shield, fuel injector, turbo charger, shift lever, ball joint, and even smaller things like o ring and screw. Heck! Muzzle, tie bar, pinion, and slave cylinder even sound like something from 50 Shades of Grey. This list of car words is obviously not complete as you can include terms like rack and chassis or even lube and combustion stroke.
A number of women complain when their significant others only want to jabber about cars. I think there's another way to look at the situation, a more positive view. So, no, I don't mind when a guy babbles mechanical car words once in a while; I'm smiling inside at all the delicious, sexy words he's murmuring to me.
Did you realize there were so many "naughty" terms used in car words? Some of my favorites involve actual parts. I have no idea what these parts are or do, but they definitely heat up my engine, I mean imagination. I particularly like crankshaft, head gasket (especially when blown!), pistons, camshaft push rod, heater, drive belt, tail pipe, heat shield, fuel injector, turbo charger, shift lever, ball joint, and even smaller things like o ring and screw. Heck! Muzzle, tie bar, pinion, and slave cylinder even sound like something from 50 Shades of Grey. This list of car words is obviously not complete as you can include terms like rack and chassis or even lube and combustion stroke.
A number of women complain when their significant others only want to jabber about cars. I think there's another way to look at the situation, a more positive view. So, no, I don't mind when a guy babbles mechanical car words once in a while; I'm smiling inside at all the delicious, sexy words he's murmuring to me.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
"Tis the Season...
Summer
Evening Prelude
(A Haiku)
~cs
Dancing
Breezes flirt,
Caressing
Petals and Leaves
Before
Dew kisses.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
"Color My World"
If you look at the vehicles on the road, you will notice the majority today are variations of red, white, blue, black, and silver. Take your own survey and you will see the preponderance of these colors.
Why can't cars and trucks be different colors? Why aren't there a multitude of purple or teal or orange cars blending in with the others? Occasionally, I will see a unique color. Once in a blue moon, a sunshiny yellow car or a teal blue car will be visible. Where are the plaid cars of the world? Do the majority of folks simply like the five basic colors best, or do they simply accept what is offered?
Where are the unique and artsy folks? Has anyone else pondered why there are no striped or polka-dotted cars? Where are the trucks painted with blue camouflage or decorated with a painted seascape? Where are the flowered vehicles? I'm sure the auto designers take into account people's preferences. Couldn't each car company offer a unique design or two? Maybe some day I will find vehicles painted like turtles, with musical notes, or even a carnation pink car.
Why can't cars and trucks be different colors? Why aren't there a multitude of purple or teal or orange cars blending in with the others? Occasionally, I will see a unique color. Once in a blue moon, a sunshiny yellow car or a teal blue car will be visible. Where are the plaid cars of the world? Do the majority of folks simply like the five basic colors best, or do they simply accept what is offered?
Where are the unique and artsy folks? Has anyone else pondered why there are no striped or polka-dotted cars? Where are the trucks painted with blue camouflage or decorated with a painted seascape? Where are the flowered vehicles? I'm sure the auto designers take into account people's preferences. Couldn't each car company offer a unique design or two? Maybe some day I will find vehicles painted like turtles, with musical notes, or even a carnation pink car.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
A Slice of Life
I try to do some things right in my life, and like Dr. Oz recommends, I decided after work last night to have a glass of red wine and be heart-healthy. Do you realize how difficult it is to open a bottle of wine?
That metal foil paper wrapping around the top laughs as you try to be resourceful in removing it. I tried to score around the top with the corkscrew to no avail. Next I tried peeling it with my fingernails -- epic fail. Why couldn't the cat help me? Where was someone in my life to help? I could logically figure this out. I needed the right tool.
In increasing agitation, since I was so close to being able to enjoy something so healthy for me (I could actually hear the wine in the bottle calling my name and see it shimmering in the light), I decided to use the weapon already in my hand to attack the problem...the corkscrew. I used the pointy end of the corkscrew and tried to cut the blasted foil paper upward.
You guessed it. I neatly cut my finger in two separate directions. Dang corkscrew! Blood gushed like...wine! I had to take time out and doctor the finger. Who would think trying to drink a single glass of healthy fruit would be such a problem.
Can't manufacturers make it easier and a little simpler for the mechanically-challenged? After all, I usually have to get online to see whether the handles start up or down, and whether I screw counter-clockwise or clockwise to get the cork out. Screwing doesn't appear to involve logic.
I finally did get that glass of wine about midnight. Does anyone have suggestions for getting the (*$^%! paper off the bottle without bodily injury?
That metal foil paper wrapping around the top laughs as you try to be resourceful in removing it. I tried to score around the top with the corkscrew to no avail. Next I tried peeling it with my fingernails -- epic fail. Why couldn't the cat help me? Where was someone in my life to help? I could logically figure this out. I needed the right tool.
In increasing agitation, since I was so close to being able to enjoy something so healthy for me (I could actually hear the wine in the bottle calling my name and see it shimmering in the light), I decided to use the weapon already in my hand to attack the problem...the corkscrew. I used the pointy end of the corkscrew and tried to cut the blasted foil paper upward.
You guessed it. I neatly cut my finger in two separate directions. Dang corkscrew! Blood gushed like...wine! I had to take time out and doctor the finger. Who would think trying to drink a single glass of healthy fruit would be such a problem.
Can't manufacturers make it easier and a little simpler for the mechanically-challenged? After all, I usually have to get online to see whether the handles start up or down, and whether I screw counter-clockwise or clockwise to get the cork out. Screwing doesn't appear to involve logic.
I finally did get that glass of wine about midnight. Does anyone have suggestions for getting the (*$^%! paper off the bottle without bodily injury?
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Political Phone-calling Fiends
I think it only fair that any political zealot who calls uninvited on the telephone, should be tasered by a link from my phone to theirs! If these fiends insist on contacting me, they can send me snail mail that I can either choose to read if I'm interested or throw away without opening if I'm not, and it will also help support the postal system who has money problems. Interrupting sleep, meals, family time, etc., should not be an option, and being a general nuisance should not be allowed. They are infringing upon the rights of others and that is unconstitutional.
Bring on the tasering!
Bring on the tasering!
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