Sunday, September 22, 2013

My Heaven, My Movie, My Food Fight, My Love : Ketchup #26

Guess what time it is, kids!  That's right, it's Ketchup time again! Mel and Michele are back again with a new and exciting prompt for us.

I have to say, as a movie lover, this was a tough one at first.  Then, once I thought about it, it was a no-brainer.  This is one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite movies.

Dad and I actually got to visit the Whistle Stop Cafe, where it was filmed, on our road trip two years ago, and the Fried Green Tomatoes were the best I've ever tasted!

Ketchup With Us - Prompt 26

In 57 words or less...if you could reenact one 
scene from a movie, what would it be?

To play in the kitchen, my favorite place, with my best friend, my love,
Preparing our favorite food, making a mess, devolving into ridiculous fits of uncontrollable laughter,
Slipping in the disaster we have created, 
For once, not caring about the clean-up.
Forgetting the world outside our kitchen.
Forgetting the world outside our love. 
My Heaven.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Forty Was Fabulous! Ketchup #25

Our beloved friends, Michele and Mel are at it again, this time celebrating the first birthday of their #KetchupWithUs series, so it is time to celebrate!


In 57 words or less, tell us about an incredible, disastrous or otherwise memorable birthday in your life.

"The ruby is the stone of the fortieth year," declared My Sweetheart, planning my celebration.  
Ruby slippers, 
Ruby chalice,
Guests dressed in shades of red.
Fantastic photo retrospective set to my favorite music. 
Delivery the Legend of The Hundred Year-Old Burmese Eye of the Guinea Pig, 
And most beautiful ruby I've ever seen. 
Forty was fabulous!

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Filling the Void

It is amazing to me how aromas can blast us back decades in time in a single instant.  Today was my grandfather's birthday.  He died in 1999, but I still miss him like it was yesterday. 

I stopped at his favorite bakery, Housewife Bake Shop, on my way home from work this evening before dinner at my parents' house.  Pop Pop and I used to stop at the bakery on the way home to my house from his at least once a week while I was growing up.  As I pushed open the door this afternoon, l was hit with the old, familiar smell of sweet, fresh, deliciousness that I hadn't encountered in years.  I was overcome.  

As I battled the lump that instantly formed in my throat, I had to fight back tears.  I knew that I missed him, but damn!  Of course the first thing I saw were his favorite creme horns staring back at me from behind the same old shiny glass case.  I found myself stammering am apology to the sweet clerk behind the counter and trying to explain.  She said she had just lost her grandfather and now I was making her cry!  I tried to tell her that it gets easier, but I'm afraid I didn't look all that convincing. 

Thirty dollars, two white boxes, and one bag later I made it to my car. I closed the door, turned the key in the ignition, turned on the air and music, told Pop Pop how much I missed him, and let the tears fall. 

Yes, it gets easier.  Life goes on, just as it should.  But some days, the empty space feels cavernous and no bakery treat, no matter how sweet, will ever fill that void.