Freeze Dried Ice Cream

A million years ago, when my kids were littler, I was the refund queen.

No, really–I was. It took a full sized file cabinet to store my UPCs.

Ask around, I’m not lying.

Ok, it was nuts…or I was nuts. Not sure which.

Anyway…way back then, Kelloggs Raisin Bran had a special offer. For every 3 UPCs you sent them, they would send you a package of “Astronaut Ice Cream.”

Sounded intriguing.

So we gathered our codes, mailed them in and happily earned 38 packages of the stuff. I know, overkill. But luckily–it was “magically delicious.”

To say that we became addicted to crunchy ice cream would be putting it lightly. Oh, how we savored that very last package because after all, when it’s gone…

…where can you shop for Astronaut food?

I don’t know how we managed, but somehow we lived without it for many years. In fact, we lost touch completely. Yes, it was a meager existence–I must say.

The years went sadly by and one day, while dinking around in Emergency Essentials I came across this:

It said, “Freeze Dried Neapolitan Ice Cream.” Could it be? Did I dare hope?

I dared, and JOY of JOYS– it turned out to be the exact same stuff that Neil Armstrong took to the moon! WAHOO!

The Andersons and space food—reunited at last!

Just the other day, we tried to share this fabbo treat with some friends and the reception was less than positive. In fact, they looked at us like we’d fed them dried squid.

In a word…it tanked.

So, maybe some people just can’t appreciate wildly exotic childhood luxuries.

It could be that Freeze Dried Ice Cream is a particularly acquired taste.

Or perhaps, not everyone is suited for space travel.

I vote the latter.

Buzz Lightyear

To infinity and beyond…

A Dreadful Deed…Undone

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When I was a young pup–ok, about 34–out shopping with the family, I spied a cable-knit sweater that…ahhh…struck me. I don’t know why exactly, but I needed the sweater. So, being sweetly conniving at that young, tender age, I devised a plan. I told my husband that he would look so great in this sweater-knowing full well that he’d wear it a few times and toss it away and it would ultimately be mine! (Incert evil laughter here). My wicked plan worked…to a point.

Oh he did, indeed, wear it a few times, but he never would toss it. In fact, if I ever mentioned giving it away to the needy–in this case- ME–he would rally around the silly thing and wear it a couple more times, then tuck it away again.

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I know what you’re thinking, but no, I couldn’t just ask him for the sweater. Trust me, it wouldn’t have worked. My dreadful deed would have been discovered–the risk was just too great.

Perhaps it was my guilty conscience, but it began to feel like the sweater was…

…laughing

at

me.

Creepy thing.

Well, I came across “the sweater” the other day–in an ancient mending basket. You know the kind that has clothes labeled 4T when your youngest is a senior in high school. Yeah, ancient. Anyway, there was this sweater sitting smugly,  just coming apart at the seams and waiting to be rescued.

sweater-012snip, snip here…

Ha! I thought. I don’t actually feeeel like mending the sweater that has taunted me for 10 years. Why…I…oughta…

So

I

dismantled

it.

sweater-016snip, snip there…

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Now, I have a total of 6 big balls of lovely yarn, just waiting to be magically transformed into something else…

…this time

with

better

Karma.

Connected- 2nd Generation

Twenty-six years ago when Lyndi, my second daughter was born, Grama brought little April to the hospital to see us and of course her sweet baby sister. Filled with new mama hormones and missing my “original baby” desperately, I was nearly in tears when she burst into the hospital room–just a few hours after the birth.

To my surprise, she ran right past me and my outstretched arms, around the big bed and straight to the isolette that Lyndi lay wrapped in. She climbed right up onto the side–with dad steadying it–and leaned over so close that she could nearly lay her head on the baby’s chest.

Because she was only 21 months old I was nervous that she’d be too rough and pokey–but just as I took her little arm to help her back down, she breathed a huge sigh, and whispered, “Ohhhh—I missed you.”

There were no words at that moment…

…and there are no words for this.

For no particular reason…

Here’s the February potholder…I would post a link to the pattern, but the site where I got it is gone. Do you suppose I’ll get arrested if I give it out anyway? That would definitely throw off my groove…

Here’s Lily being a magic baby and floating on air…

Daney boy playing with a blue hi-lighter. Can missionaries carry light sabers? Hmmmm…..

Baby Keni with her new sneaks–exhausted after all that running.

Wise baby Beckham…or is that Yoda?

Who can tell?

ward-campout-2008-9 HAPPY BIRTHDAY Laurie!

Preoccupied with…

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Kissing this baby…

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Missing these little dudes…(they’re home with coughs)

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…putting labels on the storage boxes…

…and making cheese toast…yum! Hey this would be a great snack for Super Bowl–if you’re into such a thing.

So, I’m just tooo busy to blog. Ha!