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Candy Bar Hot Cocoa

No–that is not a big ice cube in my cup…it’s a chocolate marshmallow. You should be so jealous. Truly.

So, let’s just say you’re in the mood for a nice warm cup of hot chocolate. As you look in the cupboard, you realize that you are out of ye old “Swiss Miss.” No problem, you think. We’ll just do the back woods thing and make it from scratch. Fine…until you open the cocoa canister and find that there is only a dusting left at the bottom. Now what?!

But wait! What’s this? Could it be a couple of 3 Musketeers bars in the back there–hiding out for that certain craving that you get at 10:30pm sometimes?

That’s all you’re going to need my friend. Wait’ll you read this.

Candy Bar Hot Cocoa

Ingredients:

1½ cups chopped 3 MUSKETEERS® Bars
3 cups lowfat milk
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon, plus more for dusting
2 tablespoons whipped cream

Directions:

1. Combine the candy with the milk and ground cinnamon in a small saucepan. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, stirring constantly until the candy is completely melted.
2. Pour into mugs. Add a cinnamon stick–if you like, and top with a small dollop of whipped cream–or one of those gigantic marshmallows from William Sonoma. Sorry. I love them. Dust with a sprinkling of cinnamon.

As you sip try to avoid giggling your head off at your own decadence.

Yeah, good luck with that.

heh.

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Skater Girl

 

That One Chick–the last…

I’ll keep this short. Yes, yes, I was an amazing roller skater when I was a kid—even without ever owning a pair of real shoe skates. These sad little deals just fastened on to your shoes and you prayed your little head off that they didn’t rip off at the wrong moment and fling you into the corner mailbox…which by the way, happened quite frequently. Yes, it hurt. Thanks for asking.

Ok, enough of this me, me, me stuff. As you can see–I’m tired. Ha ha…

So, here’s your last chance to get in on this giveaway—the prizes of which will be explained first thing Monday morning–March 1, 2010.

Make a comment on this and/or any of the “That One Chick” posts and you receive 1 entry for each.

I’m still gathering the prizes–so be on the lookout.

I’ll be back.

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Stranded

That One Chick #15

When I was a teenager,  coming home from a trip to the Middle East, a friend and I got stranded in Holland for four days. It could have been fun, but in anticipation of actually leaving the country on Saturday morning, we spent all our Dutch money–therefore had no food for that whole time. We had to live at the airport until we could get a flight out.  Being stand-by passengers in a foreign country, we held the same status as charity or non-paying passengers. In other words–we were considered the lowest of the low. Each time we got to the front of the line to get a boarding pass, the agent would say, “Paying customers first. Go to the end of the line.” With this method, we missed every flight out for four days.

It was a pretty strange situation because they had no water facets and you had to pay the janitors a tip just to use the restroom and again, we had no money–none. We had to wait until about 4am for the janitor to leave and then sneak in and drink from the sink facet, using our hands as cups.

By Tuesday morning we were pretty dang hungry so we slipped into the airport restaurant and waited until a fancy looking businessman finished his meal and went out. We rushed over and ate everything that he left behind. Even the parsley garnish tasted wonderful. We somehow pulled it off without being noticed and slipped back out to the airport. It was something at least.

That night when we finally got out and onto a plane headed to New York we were both so hungry and thirsty that when the flight attendant came by with the drink cart and peanuts, we both started to cry.

Cold, clean water never tasted so good.

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Mightier Than the Sword

That One Chick #14

Beware. I have some bad news. You don’t know me as well as you think you do. You see…

I’m not the mild-mannered quirky blogger you think I am. In fact, I’m what you could call…

a hardened criminal.

In my short little life, I’ve actually…

taken a hostage,

broken some guy’s nose and…

shot an innocent man.

Oh, it gets worse.

I…

brace yourself…

have even…

killed.

Not just once, but several times.

And worst of all–I’m not a bit sorry and it is quite likely that I’ll do it again.

I told you it was bad.

Allow me to explain.

A few years back–I was a writer…of children’s books. It was positively the most magical occupation I could ever have imagined. One of the things I loved most about it is that you can tell whatever kind of story you want—you can make up anything and there are very few rules. Now and then…on the rare occasion, there is even a  therapeutic outlet for some…ahhhh….how should I say this—

venting.

Even, perhaps an easy place to poke a playful jab at a beloved friend.

Now, I didn’t do it very often, but I will confess, there have been a few times. I’ve used the very names and places, true life stories and people–just carefully wrapping them up in a great bit of historical fiction. My neighbors, friends and family have become pioneers, sea captains, foreign immigrants, trolley drivers, galley cooks and…even bad guys.

One time I used half of the neighborhood and had one real tough guy accidentally shot. Don’t worry, he was just grazed–but oh, did he whine! In the book anyway. That was the best part! The only real time I got seriously mean was when a lady I knew was needlessly unkind to one of my kids. Yeah–don’t do that. She ended up straying from the wagon train, and…

the wolves got her.

Not my fault.

She should’a stayed put like she was told.

So, when I’m in the mood to get back into this writing thing again–oh, I will–you better be reeallly nice to me or things could get…interesting.

If you’re not very careful–

you could end up being turned into an ugly troll or a wicked witch…or a llama…

for all eternity.

Hee hee hee.