Hot Candles Not on a Cake (Two Children – Two Birthdays)

Posted on August 27, 2013 by Carol Early Cooney

(This entry is part of the BlogHer August challenge to use the prompt “hot” for postings for the month of August.)

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Isn’t he cute!

I have two children and their birthdays are 4 days apart. 

If I thought that my daughter turning 25 was bad, we now move to my son turning 27. As he pointed out to me the other day, he is almost 30. I don’t know why he would be pushing that along at this point but yea, in THREE YEARS, he will be 30.

We have been blessed. We have a pretty great life. There have been a few bumps along the road but for the most part, pretty great.

When my son was 13, he was diagnosed with a brain malformation. I wrote about it and his college graduation in May. 

My husband and I are now at the point where we get to watch his story unfold. While it is more fun than watching a toddler take off after a butterfly (and toward the street), it is hard to sit back and stop worrying or (much worse) giving opinions. It is now the time that we should speak when spoken to or only give advice when asked. (I love the acronym the Anne Lamott uses – WAIT. It stands for Why Am I Talking.)

My son will tell you that I am not very good at this.

But I continue to try. If only he knew the things that I don’t say. I could really get myself into trouble. Oh and don’t worry I have apparently said the wrong thing – from time to time.

(At my Mother’s 90th birthday party, when we were doing a photo of our family group, I suggested that my son’s and daughter’s dates should be on the outside of the picture so that they could be air brushed out if the relationship didn’t last. I don’t know how it came out of my mouth and I was really kidding. It seems that my son’s girlfriend (at the time) didn’t think I was funny and shed some tears. ) (My daughter’s date, on the other hand, thought I was funny. He is still around.)

Okay, to be honest, my son has a litany of “bad Mom” stories that he will tell at the drop of a hat. Most might have something to do with my rather odd sense of humor that may assert itself sometimes. He has used them in speech classes as his introductory speech. He tells one particular story to everyone he meets. And believe me when I tell you, I don’t come off looking like the compassionate, loving Mother. BUT I AM!

I am very proud of my son. He has had some trials (and I am not talking about having me as his mother) and had come out like a champ.  He knew what he needed to do and went back and showed the perseverance to make it through. He now has a good job and is looking forward to learning more.  I love him and I think he is a great guy.

Happy Birthday, son!

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We are pretending these are candles on his birthday cake. He is not here to have a birthday cake and I really don’t need to eat birthday cake. So here is a representation.

Thanks for reading!

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Hot Fudge Sundae

Posted on August 26, 2013 by Carol Early Cooney

(Today’s post is part of the BlogHer August challenge to write a post a day for the month using the prompt of “hot”.)


While I might find this hard to believe, there are some who claim that the ice cream sundae was originated in Evanston, IL.

I don’t know if you know it or not, but Evanston, IL, is the home to the Women’s Christian Temperance Union. This is the group that pushed for prohibition and was concerned about the effects of alcohol on the family and society. The organization still exists today.  Frances Willard was the second president of the WCTU and was a Methodist lady who lived in Evanston. It has only been in the past 25 years that liquor sales have been allowed in Evanston and still today there are no bars or bowling alleys in town. (There are bars in restaurants but no standalone bars.)

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Selection of toppings at my local grocery store. (I didn’t know if they let you take pictures of the shelves so I tried to do this very inconspicuously. )

And how does this bring us to the ice cream sundae? Well, as the story goes, the city of Evanston had a strong Methodist leaning. The Methodists in town convinced the town leaders that selling ice cream sodas on Sunday was a bad influence on the townsfolk.  So a law was passed banning the sale of ice cream sodas on Sunday.

People are people and those that owned soda fountains were there to serve people and make money. People like ice cream no matter what day it is and business people like to make money no matter what day it is so the forces joined and they found a way around the law. (Simply amazing, huh?) To keep the letter of the law, they could not use soda in the ice cream confection. So they put a little flavoring in the bottom of  a glass, added some ice cream, then put the flavoring over the top along with some whipped cream and a cherry and called it a Sunday soda. People liked it and started ordering it on days other than Sunday.

Amazingly, the church minded people did not like that the new item was named after the Sabbath. So, going back to the fact that people will do what people will do, they renamed it the ice cream sundae.

And that boys and girls is how the ice cream sundae was born.

As far as flavors, what could be better than hot fudge? Okay, maybe strawberry but not that runny, thin plain chocolate.

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Step one is gather the ingredients. Okay, I knew that my friend would not eat whipped cream on her sundae so I didn’t buy any. There should be whipped cream also. (Some people aren’t much fun…)

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Put a little of the hot fudge in the bottom of the bowl and then add ice cream, more hot fudge, and then some sprinkles. (So, my friend who doesn’t like whipped cream also doesn’t like sprinkles. No so sure about her…)

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And there she is enjoying her hot fudge sundae. She did inform me afterwords that the only hot fudge worth eating is some kind from Detroit. (No whipped cream, no sprinkles, and hot fudge from Detroit? How does this friendship work?)

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So, then we tried the Magic Shell Chocolate Fudge topping. (Your shake it well, pour it on and it hardens – like a dip cone) The vote was split. Miss Detroit Hot Fudge voted for Magic Shell over the regular hot fudge sundae. I voted that my stomach started to hurt.

Oh and just an odd fact for you about hot fudge.  There was a PBS TV show in Detroit by the name of Hot Fudge (1976-1980).  (My friend had not heard of it. It must not have been as good as the Detroit hot fudge.)

Thanks for reading!

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Warm Thoughts

Posted on August 25, 2013 by Carol Early Cooney

(As part of the BlogHer August challenge, I have been writing with the prompt of “hot” all month.  Today I am veering off the path a bit. Today, I am not “hot” but “warm”.)

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On April 1 of this year I wrote a post about my brother, being angry with him, knowing that I was going to lose him, and figuring out that losing him was so much worse than holding on to the anger.

Months before, when my brother became sick, I sent him a note with a quote in it. The quote was as follows:

Promise me you’ll always remember:  you’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem and smarter than you think

Christopher Robin to Pooh

I have this quote over my desk as encouragement.  What I did not realize at the time was that the quote had been shortened. The longer and in this case more meaningful quote is:

If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together. There is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart, I’ll always be with you.

A. A. Milne

I sent this to my brother for two reasons. The first was to offer him encouragement. He was going to have a tough battle and I wanted him to know that if anyone could win, I thought that he could. The second reason is that when he was younger, he had a lot of affection for the Winnie the Pooh collection of stories by E. B. White. (Not the Disney ones of today but the original books.)

He has been on my mind a lot lately. I started wondering if he still had the same feelings about Winnie the Pooh when he was older that he had in his younger years.  I think that as part of a family it is easy to forget that our siblings move on and have their own lives and interests and changes. Do my siblings think of me in ways that I have long outgrown? Do you ever really see your sibling as the adult they became? I am one of five children. None of us live in the same town or even within an hour of each other. We don’t see each other’s professional selves. We may know about things that our siblings accomplish but because it is not part of our everyday life, I don’t know that as siblings we are seen as our individual communities see us.

And maybe that is a good thing. Maybe we all need to have a place where we are not our grown up selves but we are back as part of a family unit that knows our backstory and loves us. Maybe we need a place where our accomplishments are celebrated but not the sum total of who we are. Perhaps having people love us even though we knocked down the Christmas tree at age 6 means the most.

I have a necklace that I never take off. It has my mother’s wedding ring and now a charm with the inscription that I sent my brother. What could be better than getting a bit of strength from Winnie the Pooh?

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Thanks for reading!

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Time to Hotfoot It Out of Town

Posted on August 24, 2013 by Carol Early Cooney

(And the BlogHer August challenge moves relentlessly on. As I continue on the “hot” theme, today we move to “hotfoot”. You may be wondering about whether I have made a mistake and it should be “hot foot” and not “hotfoot”. Today’s interesting tidbit is that it can be either.  So a new fun fact along with a story.)

Sam felt that he had done all the damage he could do and it was probably time to hotfoot it out of town. 

He had loved her at one time. That had been back at the beginning when it was all steamy looks and passionate kisses. Then he felt a shift. She didn’t seem to change but he felt a difference. 

It was like all the times before. He had given too much and she had grown tired of him.  Why oh why did this keep happening? He had so much to give and she just didn’t recognize it. 

It was especially clear when she left him alone one night. He saw her with another. She had taken the new one to bed with her. He would allow her this one mistake because of his love for her but he could not take this for long. 

But she didn’t come back. She was with her new love all the time. She carried him around and proudly showed him off to one and all. He remembered when it had been like that for them. He yearned for her touch but she hardly knew he existed. 

He kept hoping but he was dashed to find her with yet another. She had moved on again and he knew she would not be back. He was sad but after a time his sadness became anger. Then he saw his chance.

He saw the box in the hallway. It was the telltale sign that there was a clean out in process. So, late at night when everyone was asleep, he slipped down from the window sill. He knew where there was a marker hidden from view. With all of his energy, he moved the marker over to the wall and started moving it back and forth. It was exhausting but each stroke felt like payback for the loss of her love. 

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Finally he was finished. It was a total mess. There were black  scribbles on the yellow wall. He knew she would be in trouble for it. It was a bittersweet moment for him. While he felt exhilarated to pay her back, at the same time those feelings of love were not entirely extinguished. 

He put the marker down and made a running leap into the box bound for the charity store. 

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Thanks for reading!

 

(The part of Sam in today’s piece was played by Ferdinand.  He is a good bear.)

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Hot Burning Candles

Posted on August 23, 2013 by Carol Early Cooney

(This post is part of my response to the BlogHer August challenge. The prompt for the month is “hot”)

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Look at this cutie! Is it any wonder that my siblings often said that she was going to be the “payback child”? They were sure she would pay me back for everything I had ever done wrong in my life. It was something about the sparkle in her eyes.

Today is my daughter’s birthday. I think somehow that her birthday makes me feel older than my own birthday.  It is one thing to think that the years are passing quickly and another to have the count of candles on her cake increasing so rapidly.

My “baby” is 25 today. She has toddled, walked, made it through grade school, eked her way through high school, flew beautifully through college and sailed through graduate school.  She is amazing. She has studied in foreign countries, interned with a sheriff’s department, interned with the Department of Children and Family Services and worked with foster parents. She is a force to be reckoned with.  She tells stories of what we humans can do to each other (especially what can be done to children) and she believes that she can help.

I admire her.

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With Grandma and Grampa after high school graduation

She was named after my Mom. She had a wonderful relationship with her. It was always fun to see them together. She would usually ask my mom if she had had a “kegger” lately. My mom would laugh and say “of course.”  They were buddies. (And sometimes I was the bad guy…)

But how on earth did she get to be 25?

Family is the most important thing in her life. She met a wonderful man who completely agrees with her. They spend a lot of their time with family because they think that is the way it should be.

So, let’s raise a glass of cheer for my daughter’s 25th birthday.

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I swear I got married at the age of 10.

Thanks for reading!

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