Blaagen-Dazs

Do you remember the old Tastee-Freez soft serve ice cream stands? That was long before Baskin-Robbins or Dairy Queen. If you saw one, you saw them all. The buildings all looked the same.

I can remember each year when we took our first trip of the summer to one. It was excrutiating anticipation as my mother would go down the list of options. We had ice cream at home, but this new kind, so soft and creamy, well, it was utter delight.




This is one of the old signs you would see in the window. Check out the price. 29 cents for a sundae. But that was out of my parents' price range. We got cones and once a month got to have them dipped. It was madness on those days.

And at season's end we would all be treated to the supreme dessert, a banana split. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

These days I find my tastes running toward the other end of the spectrum however. Soft serve is 'OK' but I prefer real ice cream. At my age you really don't have to settle for less than perfect. Time is running out so let me have the real deal!

And none of that frozen dream stuff in the sorbet range either. If I want fruit, I'll eat an apple.

Oh, and puh-leeeeeze spare me the meringue igloos with hidden ice cream. Who has time to bake them and then stuff them like a turkey anyway?

I want chocolate!!! Rich, creamy, dark CHOCOLATE!!! Now aren't these two fine specimens?

But still they aren't complete enough. And don't tell me that putting ice cream between two cookies is as good as it gets. The following example of Martha Stewart's kitchenry is NOT in my vocabulary. I have pricked things with a fork before baking them and have never had the lines come out as uniform as those seen here. As if anyone has time to be that anal! No, I can skip these altogether, thank you very much, Martha. But perhaps your most intimate friends may enjoy them.

I have two rules about ice cream. One... It HAS to be chocolate. There really is no other flavor. Two... If you can pick it up, it's a waste of time and energy. No ice cream on a stick or in a cone for me.

I not only demand chocolate, I want Death by Chocolate. I want the kind of chocolate fix that a mere picture of the dessert will send a diabetic into a coma. I want the ooey-gooey, fudge-dripping-off-it, smothered in caramel, with marshmallows, nuts and whipped cream model. I want the it's-so-sweet-that-it-makes-your-teeth-itch kind of dessert.

And if you must have an ice cream sandwich, be like this guy. I don't know him, but he sure knows a dessert when he sees one.

And oh my God... please either fill the plate or put it on a smaller one so people don't think they are getting cheated. This is not a time for the less-is-more attitude. And what in the world is that single blackberry doing there anyway? Is it the spokes-berry?

Now this comes close to what I'm talking about except there is still way too much white going on. the one scoop of chocolate is being strangled by all that vanilla, but at least this dessert has some substance.

This is more like it, but again, what's with all the vanilla?

I searched HUNDREDS of photos for this blog. Do you think I could find a decent collection of chocolate desserts with chocolate ice cream? Noooooooo!!!! But this was the best one. My only suggestion would be more hot fudge and double it, please. Oh yeah, and where are the nuts?

Well, I guess that's enough Blaagen-Dazs for one day. At least you know where I stand on the chocolate issue in case it even comes close to being voted off American Idol or finds its way into politics and is in danger of introducing a non-chocolate amendment to the Constitution.

In the meantime I will go dream in chocolate. Don't look at me like that! I'm not the only one! Milk, coffee and strawberries all long for chocolate too. So don't make me out to be the bad guy here. Until we meet again...

Life Is Uncertain, Eat Dessert First.

The Bear and The Flea

It is the poetry that is the language of my soul when I find it hard to speak in whole sentences. Sometimes, life doesn't make sense. Poetry has a rhythm and sway to it. It's soothing, like that feeling you get when you're in a rocking chair. And so when troubles come or chaos ensues, I digress to my poetic nature to find meaning and solace. I'd like to think it's spiritual. In any event, it calms the waves and tames the fears. What more could I ask for?

The Bear and The Flea

Beside the stream stood the big brown bear

without a care, as it would seem.

He fished and swam the whole day through

and before he knew he saw a ram.

　

In pleasantries he spoke to him

but had not a whim of the ram's fleas.

Awakening from one deep nap

in the woolen nap the flea did spring.

　

The ram and bear said their goodbye

with sunset nigh and neither aware

of the relay that occurred between the two

during evening dew at the end of day.

　

And well into night the bear did stir

for beneath his fur the flea did bite.

As the darkness passed, no reasons, no rhymes,

a hundred times the flea harrassed.

　

The bear would doze and near deep sleep,

in the pain would creep distressing his repose.

At morning's light the bear did see

the ravaging flea and his camping site.

　

"What do you there in this situation

with no invitation?" asked the tired bear.

"It's my home," replied the indignant flea.

"Now can you leave me be?" he said with a moan.

　

Outraged, the bear nearly cursed,

"It was my home first, now get out of there!"

"Go back to sleep!" said the flea with vigor.

"You're so much bigger than that underfed sheep."

　

"To you I reply, I'll no longer be smitten.

Remember once bitten, twice shy?"

"You're a terrible host," said the flea in his sass.

"Not one bit of class. I'll not leave my post."

　

The bear, unswayed, began to walk,

and the flea kept the talk, as the bear felt betrayed.

Over forest path went the bear to the lake.

The flea's mistake was not forseeing the bath.

　

Lowering his head, the bear faked a drink.

Inside of a blink he jumped in instead.

He twisted and thrashed, dislodging the flea.

"I'm drowning!!!" screamed he, but still the bear splashed.

　

The last thing of note was the bear finally free.

His advice to the flea? "You're fine if you float!"

Moral of the story:
Don't go where you're not welcome.

Heart to Heart

This was my very first composition after I adopted the name Sally Rose given to me by my special friend, Charlie. Even now, I sit stunned when I read it. I think, "I wrote that?" God is truly wonderful in the gifts He bestows. I am blessed. Enjoy...

Heart to Heart

And when God brought forth the grasses
and all the plants upon the Earth
He recalled when He dreamed in color
and the grandeur it was worth
and He envisioned such a beauty
in its own self was content
of the power it was given
from the hand whence it was sent
it would rival all the others
stand so righteous, so adored
universal in its pleasure
it would be welcomed with accord
just one glimpse could cause the heartbeat
to but quicken in delights
it could bring the brightest shimmer
in the loneliest of nights
ne'er before was heard such language
oh so subtle and serene
that could melt away the saddest song
the world had ever seen
cloaked in color it could whisper
verses plenty and extol
all the mighty virtue of a heart
to the depths in each man's soul
in its own way it could comfort
and bring blessings of such grace
just to view it could sprout beauty
lined with courage to embrace
deepest sorrows with their anguish
and their unrelenting pain
and yet knowing in the end that
we'll not pass this way again
it would warn us of coming joys
for in each season is a time
where the heart lies unattended
fully tied to the sublime



whosoever finds the glory
in the deepest of repose
is reminded how we suffered
in the smiting of the blows
of life's follies and its hardships
ah, but so the lesson goes
that we rise once more inspired by
the new paths that we chose
we celebrate achievements
all the details we disclose
we revel in the happiness
with which our life bestows
we're lifted up on mighty wings
oh how our spirit glows
seems years ago and plenty now
since we have felt our woes
we dance in meadows filled with dreams
and lie in grasses beneath our toes
we see it is all born of God
and rest our heads and begin to doze
our eyes flitter and they flutter
and as they start to close
we see it there just beyond our sight
hidden in the meadow's clothes
everything seems so surreal
and then surely the time slows
we stumble, we run to it breathless
we know it's no use to oppose
but even if we could, we wouldn't
in the ecstasy we feel the throes
for it doesn't happen every day
you come heart to heart with a rose

~ by Sally Rose
(c) 2008

If I Should Wake Before I Die

I have felt for a long time that I have a complete misunderstanding of God and not only who He is, but how He works. So when people in some circles I whirl would say to me that I should turn things over to the God of my understanding, I would flippantly quip, "You mean the God of my misunderstanding, don't you?"

Over the years that has come to be one of my most loving phrases. God knows I mean no disrespect when I say it because He truly knows that I know that His ways are such a mystery to me that twenty lifetimes would not even give me a glimpse as to the reasons for His actions.

So I got to thinking about some things of God. And one of those things was how God would view our actions here on this earth when the day comes that we finally meet. I was drawn back to a time that seems vaguely familiar to me, a time I wish I could remember in its entirety.

It felt strange at first putting on the God mindset. Who was I to dare to believe I could imagine anything God might do? And then I thought, "Well, he gave us a brain for a reason and it's not as if I am applying for His job. I'm not impersonating Him. I am just trying to be a better person by thinking of what guidelines He might use on that Final Day." This was the result...

　

If I Should Wake Before I Die

It would do me well, I reckon, to not only walk in the Light, but also to try on the Light from time to time. To strive for the perfection of God sometimes means trying to figure out exactly what God might do in a given situation. It isn't as easy as it might sound, and yet, I doubt it is complex either. Even with the guidelines given to us through sacred text humanity is still at war with itself. Religions differ, cultures differ, even laws differ at opposite ends of the world, and we are faced with all manner of enigmas and dilemmas.

And so today I travel back in time to a slower pace and a quieter time and I wonder about God and His Infinite Wisdom and Judgment. In the final analysis it will be He who decides my fate based on the choices I have made in this life. I think the whole key is not to pray to God in the manner of... "If I should die before I wake..." Instead, I believe I should pray to waken into the Light before I die.

At the end God will look at every incident in my life. I will be held accountable for each of them. And what seems to matter most to me may be insignificant to Him.

If I should wake before I die, I pray to know about those most important things. For I believe that...

• I won't so much be judged on those things I have done, rather those things I could have done were I only willing to obey God's wishes.
• I won't be judged on what I gave, rather the spirit in which it was given.
• I won't be judged on what I knew, rather what I ignored to learn.
• I won't be judged on where I went, rather for what purpose.
• I won't be judged on why I did certain things, rather why I didn't choose more wisely.
• And finally, I won't be judged for who I loved, rather how I loved.

Walking in The Light means being free from the shadows of my own nature. It means owning up to my character defects and shortcomings. It means being as right with God and those around me as I would have them be with me. It means opening up to new worlds with new options and new vistas. And to do that, indeed, I should wake before I die to experience every opportunity to emerge victorious.

Is it doable? It is happening before my very eyes... Happy Awakening!

The Eagle Has Landed...

Houston... No more problems. The eagle has landed.

I will write in more detail about the last day or so. I just wanted you to know that I made it safe and sound to my new home. It is a wonderful and lovely thing I have encountered. The welcome was AWESOME. The hospitality, OUT OF THIS WORLD. And although the astronauts may well have been in awe of the splendor that they viewed upon seeing the Earth from the moon, I stand in awe of the kindness of a pure heart, and the welcome by a family whose only agenda is to do those things that God has asked us to do... to care about others and do unto them that which you would want to be done unto you.

As I sit here today indulging in one conversation after another with each member of the family, I wonder what I have done to deserve this kindness. But I am also reminded in the deep recesses of my mind of those times when I too extended the hand of friendship and good will. It seems as though it has come full circle. I am grateful for the blessings that have been bestowed upon me by a loving God who is so much smarter than me. I couldn't have asked for what I received. I only told Him to point me and I would go.

Well, I'm here. And I am happy to announce that He was not only kind, He was perfect in His choice. Yes. I am here, and I'm here to stay. The eagle had to land somewhere. I am abundantly grateful it was here.

I love you.... for all you do, ALL of you, for all your encouragement through the bad times I have had and the litany of remorse and despair you have had to endure. My hope is that the future holds more inspirational and heart-felt stories. It is not a wishful hope. It is a hope built on faith and a story which continues to spring forth from surrounding myself with positive and grateful hearts, nourishing minds and true lovingkindness.

For once in my life, all is well. See you soon as the saga continues...

OMG, OMG, OMG...

OMG... Am I Really Leaving Tomorrow???