White Chocolate Pretzel Thingies.

Making white chocolate pretzel thingies, instructions:

Melt chocolate bar. Insert pretzels, coating sufficiently to cover pretzel, then shake off excess, placing them on wax paper to cool. Once hardened, eat!

Sounds fairly uncomplicated, right? Well, Huston, we have a problem!

   The instructions in detail, have a bit more hidden things to offer. First order, get a big pan, and fill it with water. Then get a smaller one to fit inside the first one (that you’ve over filled with water). (Okay, no problem, just pour some of the water out!) Then place the second smaller pan inside the larger, water filled one. (Okay, pour out some more water!) Now, place the smaller pan inside the larger one, and drop in the chocolate to be melted. The water in the larger pan, should be a bit higher than the height of the chocolate in the smaller pan. (Okay, add a bit of water back) Next, heat the water, in the larger pan, to just below the boiling point. (Okay, turn the heat down some, it’s boiling!) As the chocolate begins to melt (wait, how come it’s not melting! Okay, turn the heat back up.), and stir constantly till fully melted to a thick syrup consistency (how come it’s not melting that much?). Ah, the instructions say, add some cooking oil one teaspoon at a time, till you get the consistency desired! Okay, add oil and stir. Okay, add some more oil, and stir. Okay, add some more oil, and stir. Okay, add more oil, and stir. Alright!!  Finally we’re starting to melt, and get the desired consistency (good thing, I’m running out of oil)!
   Okay, now here’s where things start to get a bit tricky. Your small pan, with the now melted chocolate, is on the stove, to maintain the heat, and consistency, and your wax paper, is eight feet away on the counter, ready for placement. Okay, no problem! Grab some pretzels and just throw them in the pan, mixing, and coating them there, right on the stove (brilliant!)! (“Okay, now what?) Now all we have to do, is take the pretzel, chocolate filled pan, over to the counter, and fish them out. (Great idea!) (Wait, they’re starting to cool, while still in the pan! Not good!) Take the pan, back to the stove and reheat to desired consistency again. Repeat as often as necessary to get these stupid things done (like as many as eight times)! (These things better be awsome!!!!)

   After due consideration, and two hours of aggravating work, I’ve come to a conclusion!

Although they taste right, and look pretty much like they’re supposed too,I won’t ever do this again! When these are gone, does anybody know someone dumb enough to do this for me next time?  :/


Ageing, my style

   When I was a kid (around six) I thought people in their twenties were old, people in their forties were ancient, and those fifty and older, were pretty well near deaths door. As I reached my teens, I still felt pretty much the same. As I reached my twenties, I forgot about the twenties thing, but still felt pretty much the same, as far as the rest was concerned. As I reached my thirties, I looked back on my teens, and twenties with great memories, but still felt pretty much the same for those older than me. When I reached my forties, I started to look in both directions, age wise. I missed the days of my youth, and the tireless energy I had then, and also, looked at the future with some trepidation, and a fear mixture, but still felt pretty much the same for the older ones. When I hit my fifties, I was still playing some sports (old guys softball), and still had a respectable bit of energy, but I still felt pretty much the same about the older ones. Theeeenn, I hit my sixties! It was then, I decided that there might need to be, at least some, restructuring of my thought process on aging.

   Since, today, I reached the age of 63, I look back on the twenties years as, young, and inexperienced, the thirties as, still young, and somewhat more experienced, the forties as, less young, but still young, and reasonably experienced, the fifties as, older, and well seasoned, but still not old. The sixties, I’m finding out, are pretty much what I thought they were, back when I was six. The rest, are pretty much the same as far as I‘m concerned!

Wonder how I’ll look on the seventies years!!!

Of course, I have to finish my sixties, first!    :/

Christmas morning change.

   As we approach Christmas day, I asked on my Facebook page, for my friends to comment on favorite traditions, or tell of a special memory. I received several responses, with many of the same, yet unique versions, of a typical Christmas day. It brought back memories of the years when my boys were still at home, and some of the special things we did, at our house. Almost every memory brought a smile to my face but one, and this is the story as to why that one didn’t.

   For over twenty years, we all got up early (well,” I” woke “them” up before daylight, as early as 4AM, to be exact) on Christmas morning to “see what Santa” brought. We made them wait, so they could both go see what was under the tree together, while my wife and I watched to see their expressions as they viewed what was there. Most of the time, they were still half asleep, so it took a bit for the adjustment, and I was most often more excited, than they were! After the sleep began to fade, they came alive, and dived in, to find, and open presents. Later my wife’s parents came out for breakfast, and we did the usual flurry of package ripping, amid sounds of Christmas music and laughter. Then, we proceeded to get dressed after a bit, and go to my parents home, for the normal Christmas dinner, followed by, you guessed it, another round of the gift opening, with the same sounds as before. We sat around for a while, digesting the delicious meals prepared by my mother, and just talking. Then around five, we sat off to my wife’s parents for the third huge meal of the day, and then just sat around talking for a while.
   Like I said, this scenario went on, with minor variations, for over twenty years, and I loved every minute of them. Then came something I had never prepared myself for, change! The last Christmas before my youngest son got married, I was going to do my usual thing, but my wife said let them sleep in till they woke up on their own. It like to have broken my heart! I went on and got up, by myself, went into the living room, sat in a chair, and cried for the first time on a Christmas morning, because I knew that Christmas mornings, had just changed, forever.

   This change happened close to twelve years ago, but comes back each year, as if it were yesterday, and on occasion, I still cry. Not because I want back those days, but the feelings of that morning, are still there. Change is hard for us older folks, but it is a reality. My boys, whom I love dearly, and miss a lot, are grown, gone, married, and have kids of their own now, they both live in other distant states, and they’re starting traditions of their own, with their children, which they will find joy in, for many years to come, but, I wonder, if someday, on a future Christmas morning, they will get up, by themselves, sit in a chair, and cry, because, things have just changed forever.