All right. Grace and I have been busy bees, so I've neglected my writing this week. So.. I need to catch up. This was actually the Monday morning prompt. Fun times with Grace are always most important though:) We've been having SO much fun this summer, but I feel like we are always on the go. Last night, my "baby" started swimming lessons at Lewis & Clark. I was worried she'd be scared going into the huge pool all on her own. Boy was I wrong. I was a nervous wreck, and she was begging to jump off the diving board into the deep end (obviously that will have to wait for a "few"more lessons). We normally have dance on Tuesdays, but tonight it was cancelled because of the parade. Oddly, we have had something going on for the other parades since Grace was born, so this was her first Jersey County parade. She had a BLAST:) and now we are the owners of a HUGE bag of candy:) At any rate, by tired baby is in bed, so writing time for me before I follow suit.
Anyway.... on to the warm-up:
For the entire prompt, check out Kate Messner's blog at www.katemessner.com/blog. The prompt asked us to describe an experience triggered by one of our senses other than sight.
As a little girl, I had a very special relationship with my Mottaz Grandpa. We connected in a way that I haven't quite seen again until now- watching my own daughter with my dad. Unfortunately, I lost that amazing man when I was in second grade to a brain tumor. Despite my young age, I have many crystal clear memories of my grandpa and I still, years and years later, have moments where it hurts that I can't talk to him. One thing though, always reminds me of every happy time with my grandpa--ice cream:)
I sat in my grandparents kitchen. My grandpa and I had just got done playing at the park near their house and come back for our usual bowl of vanilla bean ice cream with Hershey's chocolate syrup. They had run out of syrup and Grandpa drove me all the way to the grocery store just to buy some more:) Now we sat at the table with heaping bowls. I took a few small bites of my vanilla, analyzing the small brown flecks of vanilla bean. The icy cold concoction slid down my throat, giving me goose bumps along my arms. Then, I proceeded to do what I always insisted upon doing with my bowl of ice cream--making ice cream soup. I began to stir my vanilla ice cream, mixing and mixing until it became one with the dark brown Hershey's syrup. I loved watching the snow white ice cream combine with that rich dark color and become something new. I loved the smooth light, chocolate brown. The ice cream melted some as I stirred, becoming the consistency of a thick chocolate shake. I kept on stirring, taking a few bites of the cool "soup" as I went. Finally, when it reached the state of "soupiness" that I so desired, I ate it all--right down to the last drop. Yum!
And, while I haven't made "soup" in far too long, I still think of my grandpa each time I eat ice cream. I love and miss you!!