Archive for November, 2012

Friday Flashback (1st in a series)

Thursday, November 15th, 2012

“The Amish are fundamentalists, but they don’t try and hijack a carriage at needlepoint. And, if you’re ever in Amish country and you see a man with his hand buried in a horse’s ass, that’s a mechanic. Remember that.” ~ Robin Williams

This photo was taken on the perfect day. I donned my favorite pink and blue soft puffy top, perfectly paired with a paler shade of bell bottoms — an outfit so comfy, and totally stylish for a sixth grader (thanks to Mom’s fabulous sense of fashion).

Pleased with my trendy ensemble, I set off with Mom, Dad and cousin Tracy to enjoy a day at Kitchen Kettle Village in Intercourse, PA. Intercourse is one of the places the Amish, or “plain people” as they refer to themselves, call home. Mount Joy, Paradise, Bird-in Hand and Fertility are a few of the other nearby towns in Lancaster County — no wonder the Amish have so many children, huh? Blue Ball must have been the last in line the day they were giving out names (OUCH!).

A day at Kitchen Kettle involved tasting chocolate fudge, browsing its quaint shops, and the day’s highlight was time spent at the Jam & Relish Kitchen for what I referred to as “cracker fest”! Dad and I especially loved heading to the oyster cracker tasting station, which was chock-full of a zillion types of jellies and jams for everyone’s noshing pleasure! Familiar flavors like strawberry preserves, blueberry jam, orange marmalade, and more Pennsylvania Dutch treats like apple butter, rhubarb jelly, hot pepper relish, etc.

Seriously, over the years I must have eaten about thirty-some-thousand of those little suckers, and consumed about twenty pounds worth of fruity spreads!

(ITALIAN LESSON: I tasted the crackers = Ho assaggiato i biscotti.)

So, go ahead, call me a cracker — just allow me time to grab my spreadin’ knife!

Also, let me know if you have any memories of Dutch Country — or, at the very least, if you saw the movie Witness.

Mom vs. Truck

Tuesday, November 6th, 2012

Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?

“Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road moved beneath the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.” ~ Einstein


“Your mother’s been hit by a truck!”
Dad’s abundant crackly voice filled my phone receiver.

“Oh my God! Is she dead?” I managed to squeak out, fearing the worst possible scenario, as in “my mom is now road pizza”

To make my heart-attack inducing conversation short, Mom was OK.

(ITALIAN LESSON: Hit by a car = Colpita dalla vettura)

OMG — she was hit by a frigging truck and she was fine! She was so fine, that she initially refused her ambulance ride! Mom just wanted to gather up her groceries — which ended up flying, and ultimately exploding all over the road — and continue her walk home, most likely puffing away on one of her beloved Parliaments to calm her trembling post-accident body.

Mom’s head was bleeding, and she was bruised with rainbow hues all the way down one side from the fall…um, splatter.

This was a few years ago when she was making her way back home from picking the usual suspects from SuperFresh (pizza shells, mozzarella, Dom Pepino (for the ‘za) Coca Cola, and most likely some kind of Entenmanns ooey gooey snacks) when a fairly large SUV smacked right into her as she crossed the street.

She claimed she looked both ways (hey, I know she did, since she was the one who taught me!) and WHAM! The truck hit her, and my mortal mother became airborne Mom!

She ended up saying yes to the ride in exchange for a few stitches in her noggin, as the head insists on bleeding without some sort of fix.

About a week later, Mom plucked out her sutures one by one, in typical Mom fashion.
Go back to a doctor? That’s just not her style.

Please share any car/truck/flying saucer stories in the comments section — love to hear them!