Chick-a-chick-a-chick-fil-a!

One of the simple pleasures of Cotton Candying is the food. Many parks I've visited are known for their food, or for a particular foodstuff. DelGrosso's has amazing pizza and baked beans, and a rainbow of unique ice cream flavors, Idlewild has kickin' fried dough, and our dearly departed Kiddieland was known for their free Pepsi products.

Cedar Point turned me on to Chick-fil-A.

I have flittering dreams about Chick-fil-A. The chicken, always juicy and flavorful, the salads unique and tasty (for a fast food salad, truly the best I've ever had), the shakes, well, I could sing an aria, an ode to the peach shake (pictured here with yours truly at the Chick-fil-A in Erie, PA, located near Waldameer).

I've learned that in the not-too-distant future, the Chick-fil-A powers that be will drop down and deposit a franchise in the Chicago area. Oh, I'll be there, camped out with a citronella candle and a Snuggie, waiting in quiet contemplation for the doors to open and for the angels to greet me as I put in my order and dive into the wonder of the Fil-A.

It's Spring, when things get a new lease on life. Including rides from Kiddieland!

http://www.dutchvillage.com/park/whatsnew.html

Dig this! While trolling around some of the websites for parks I've already visited, I noticed Dutch Village in Holland, MI has done something that has warmed my heart on this rather briskish April morning: they have a new ride, which is new to them, but not entirely new at all -- pumper cars, the very same pumper cars which kiddies rode with abandon at our dearly departed Kiddieland.

I'm not entirely positive I had anything to do with this, but when I visited Dutch Village, I did mention to the owner about the Kiddieland ride auction. So you never can tell. If I did have anything to do with the inclusion of this wonderful ride (now called Petal Pumper cars, including "petal", as in tulips, as in what makes Holland, MI famous) at Dutch Village, one of the sweetest, quaintest parks you'll ever visit, then my month of April and maybe even the entire season of Spring is just blossoming with happiness!

Sunday on the Blog with Photos! -- special Monday edition.

On the very first leg of the Roadtrip, we stopped by Cedar Point, Ben's childhood park. It's a mammoth undertaking to get from A to B in this sprawling place, but what makes it easier is spending some "set yourself down" time in the Pioneer Village portion. Check out my candle-dipping skills. My candle was all yellow to orange to red, sort of Jefferson Starshippy.

On a Daypass from Heaven

While sitting in wait for a scrumptious breakfast prepared by my baby Ben on this fine Easter morning (he outdid himself once again. I don’t technically believe it’s possible to outdo yourself as many times as Ben has, but he’s proven me confused about the origin of the phrase yet again with his chocolate pancakes with coffee/vanilla syrup, topped with a yogurt-Di Saronno cream. See what I mean? The man continues to stupefy), my eye was drawn to one specific cookbook, buried among dozens of other cookbooks. This one is compact in size, covered in Plain Jane khaki with black print. That’s it – it’s not showy, it’s not eye-catching like the lavender-spined “Martha Stewart’s Cupcakes” or the “Pie” book decorated with pies depicted in moon phases of uneaten waning to the new moon of an empty pie plate requesting it be refilled. No, the book I was inexplicably drawn to was a bit of a wallflower sitting in a bookcase of show-offs. But it drew me, so I walked over and plucked it out.

“Bohemian-American Cookbook” the cover reads, with a simple post WWII line rendering of a happy cook presenting a steaming serving dish. She’s happy and you know you’ll be happier once you open the cover and peek inside to skim through all the soul-satisfying comfort food recipes.

And so it is: these are the recipes my Mom and Grandma (“Baba” was the affectionate term) would follow. I knew there’d be plenty of pickled meats and dumplings, but what I hadn’t realized was that this particular book was truly a melding of Old World cuisine with the more modern recipes found in America – this was a melting pot cookbook which brought together tradition and fresh horizons.

It also, apparently, was a special cache for my Mom. Because, housed within its pages, I found what can only be described as treasure. Magical treasure. Angel treasure from above sent on this holy Easter Sunday.

We’re not church-goers, but we find our religion, our God, everywhere. God working through others, through us. And, sometimes, that means through a messenger like my Mom. And it all makes sense when I recall that early this morning I reminded Ben of my childhood Easter when I sadly felt too old to receive an Easter basket but Mom surprised me with one anyway, featuring one of my most treasured Barbies. I was still technically a baby, my Mom’s baby, and I deserved a treat, even if I was ten, my first double-digit Easter.

But Easter was only truly Easter when Mom baked the Lamb Cake, a lamb-shaped pound cake topped with buttercream icing and coconut. What I found in this book made me realize that Mom is so very near, and probably so near because it’s Easter and she loved Easter and she always made sure that pound cake lamb was present and part of the day, parked on the serving platter, lying in wait, his candied cherry smile beckoning my little family, dessert-lovers all.

And so I share with you the Easter treasure unearthed today, written in my Mom’s own hand:

Pound Cake
3 cups of cake flour
8 eggs
2 cups of sugar
1 lb. of butter or margarine
1 teaspoon of baking powder
1 teaspoon of Vanilla
Cream the butter with sugar. Add eggs one at a time, beat well, then add the flour & baking powder sifted. Add vanilla. Bake 1 hour at 350 oven. Bake in a big tube pan.

“Ha ha,” says Mom. “I knew I’d get myself into this blog of yours SOMEhow!”

Mom, how could I not let you shine?

Don't let it dampen your fun.

The day we visited Erie's Waldameer Park, it rained, a cold, slippery rain that wouldn't let up. Or maybe it did let up, but it was damp and murky so it felt as if it kept raining microscopic drops just to mess with you. But it didn't dampen our day. We took tons of pictures from the gliding ride that takes you up above the treetops, allowing you a great view of the rides beneath. My knees were chilly and pink, but I wouldn't let that dampen my fun. This was the last stop on the first leg of the Cotton Candy Roadtrip, dang it, and I wasn't about to let a little moisture get the best of me.

Ducked into the funhouse, went shopping, but still the rain drizzled down -- but kids kept enjoying themselves. Ben and I shared some Dippin' Dots, those hyperfrozen dots of ice cream that still taste like ice cream through the magic of cryogenics.

So it's rainy today. But it doesn't dampen your spirit unless you let it.

"The Best Day of My Life"

While sitting and writing at my favorite coffeehouse, I was handed a photocopied note by an elderly gentleman. He was a bit in-my-face, but in a charming way, with the inner buoyancy of a character out of a Frank Capra film, and he handed me a printout which shares the title line with the title line of this blog entry.

It starts with this: "Today, when I awoke, I suddenly realized this is the best day of my life, ever!". It goes one to remind you to be grateful for every little thing you have, which is something most of us forget about. We wake up in the morning and, quite often, are struck by all the "gotta do's" and agendas and grinds we must accomplish and we're knocked off-track, starting our day on the left side of our brain rather than the right, the logical and stuffy.

As I skimmed through the page, I came upon this line: "Today, i will share my excitement for life with other people. I will make someone smile. I will go out of my way to perform an unexpected act of kindness for someone I don't even know."

And then it caught me, the fact that this older gentleman had done just that for me. Maybe he recognized the furrow in my brow, the list of things IRS, Dad-in-assisted-living, attorney-focused, and "good-lord-the-house-is-a-sty" related. And he decided I was someone in need of something positive and out-of-the-blue.

I thanked him and now I thank you for reading this and I pass along the same good wishes my very own Clarence the Angel gave me.

This very well could be the Best day of Your Life. I'm pretty sure it's mine -- until tomorrow, that is.

Little April Fools...

Well, okay, not technically April because this photo was taken in August at Waldameer Park. And there's a clown in the photo, as opposed to something you'd recognize as a full-out fool. Or even foolish-type person.

But this will do for today. And I'll be sending you all your $20,000 checks really soon for checking out my blog!