Saturday, February 13, 2010

Sunny and Stormy

I had a couple of visitors last Sunday afternoon--lovable little girls. These affectionate sisters are just eleven months apart in age, and look a lot alike, but there is a great difference in their dispositions.

Since my house is still full of toys my own grandchildren have outgrown, it was just the right mix of playthings for them. I fed them eggs, ham and orange juice--all healthy stuff, of course. Then I broke down and gave them each a handful of m and m's. Sunny saved her green ones for when Stormy began to cry for more; then she handed them over one at a time to pacify the storm. That was pretty much a pattern all day. Their mom can't figure out why the younger one cries all the time when she doesn't get what she wants. I told her to blame little Sunshine, who loves her sister and doesn't like to see her cry.

Stormy put the frog in the bucket, screwed the magnifying lid on, hung it around her neck and called it her "Ribet in a drum".

Anyway, they are precious little girls.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Secret Message

Here is a misunderstood message from parents to children:

I asked you to quit hanging out with that kind of group.
Learn to drive sensibly; avoid dangerous road conditions.
Don't prize fame over integrity or success over honor.

The red letters spell one message; the purple quite another. It's all in how you read it.

Our Sunday Scribblings Prompt was "message".

Making the Moos

Our school has an annual event in which we sell German food.
(It's actually Russian food prepared by Germans, but that's a long story)
We serve verenika, schnetka, liverwurst, sauerkraut,sausage,zwiebach, and, for dessert of course, moos. (That's the real spelling, although, since it's lacking some diacritical markings of importance, it looks strange so most people prefer the French spelling of Mousse.)

We served over a thousand people.
That calls for a lot of moos. There were eleven of us on the mousse-making crew, so we had it finished in a few hours.
Thirty four gallons of the stuff!
It was of two kinds: pluma (plum/raisin) and cherry.

By seven o'clock in the evening there were only a couple of gallons left.
They expected that the patrons remaining at the tables would probably buy that before they went home, although the 'moos servers' and I were secretly hoping everybody would be too full to consider buying it by quarts and pints, because any leftover moos usually gets served in our cafeteria. And we like it.

It was a long day, but not tedious. Working with people you love and respect to further a good cause makes you feel strength through all your tiredness.