Fiddler's over :(
*wimper* Now I sit at home and do nothing. Oh well. Here's a picture of your's truly, being old and jewish
plus, I wrote a little something about myself for a friend's scrap book. If you'd like to read it, it's pretty funny...
Over the past twenty years that my parents have been married, they have accumulated many presents. Relatives, friends and coworkers have given them various items, which I believe they don’t fully appreciate. There have been crystal candle sticks, digital cameras, movies, espresso machines, wall clocks, expensive jewelry and other knickknacks which have vanished from our home, never to be seen again. Of course, some are simply hidden in corners, collecting dust, but many have been rewrapped, and given to someone else.
Now, you have to understand that my parents are good people, and do keep most of the gifts they are given. But sometimes, certain items deserve to be kept and put to use.
That is why I wish to discuss one of these gifts I have rescued, Good Ol’ Beige. Ol’ Beige has sat in the highest kitchen cabinet for more than a decade and a half; a leftover of some anniversary present, or past splurge. She’s an ugly, creamy olive green, plastic, two foot tall, eight speed electrical blender, equipped with rectangle black buttons and a rubber cover. I discovered her a few years back when I asked my mother if we could purchase a blender, so I may create and consume my own smoothies. She told me we already had one, but wished I wouldn’t use it. In my mother’s eyes, Ol’ Beige was a nuisance to use and clean. Mother hates large kitchen appliances, including the Mixmaster, and food processor, which she only ventures to use on special occasions. But, the blender was abandoned, left to rot, and I decided it was time to bring her out.
It was a hassle, I admit, standing on a chair to reach her, and then hefting the huge thing onto the counter. But I didn’t care. Soon, I had mopped up the grime and dust and began chopping up fruit for a smoothie.
I don’t remember much of that first smoothie, except that it didn’t taste great. What smoothie would if you put carrots in it? But, I didn’t give up, and learned that with practice, my frosty drinks can measure up to those at restaurants.
Currently, I’m in love with my peanut butter banana smoothie, with frozen bananas, peanut butter, milk and a tiny bit of honey. Mom and my sister think it’s disgusting, and Dad is too afraid to try it, but I take it to be as delicious as ice cream. Frozen fruits work the best, and I try not to add excess sugar.
And even though I make more than enough of this healthy snack, my mother still considers it a mess. She tells me that the fruit would taste the same without the blender; I’d just have to chew it myself. Whatever she says, I love making smoothies. Finding Ol’ Beige the Blender has been an experience I compare to finding buried treasure, even if no one appreciates the machine, except me.
plus, I wrote a little something about myself for a friend's scrap book. If you'd like to read it, it's pretty funny...
Over the past twenty years that my parents have been married, they have accumulated many presents. Relatives, friends and coworkers have given them various items, which I believe they don’t fully appreciate. There have been crystal candle sticks, digital cameras, movies, espresso machines, wall clocks, expensive jewelry and other knickknacks which have vanished from our home, never to be seen again. Of course, some are simply hidden in corners, collecting dust, but many have been rewrapped, and given to someone else.
Now, you have to understand that my parents are good people, and do keep most of the gifts they are given. But sometimes, certain items deserve to be kept and put to use.
That is why I wish to discuss one of these gifts I have rescued, Good Ol’ Beige. Ol’ Beige has sat in the highest kitchen cabinet for more than a decade and a half; a leftover of some anniversary present, or past splurge. She’s an ugly, creamy olive green, plastic, two foot tall, eight speed electrical blender, equipped with rectangle black buttons and a rubber cover. I discovered her a few years back when I asked my mother if we could purchase a blender, so I may create and consume my own smoothies. She told me we already had one, but wished I wouldn’t use it. In my mother’s eyes, Ol’ Beige was a nuisance to use and clean. Mother hates large kitchen appliances, including the Mixmaster, and food processor, which she only ventures to use on special occasions. But, the blender was abandoned, left to rot, and I decided it was time to bring her out.
It was a hassle, I admit, standing on a chair to reach her, and then hefting the huge thing onto the counter. But I didn’t care. Soon, I had mopped up the grime and dust and began chopping up fruit for a smoothie.
I don’t remember much of that first smoothie, except that it didn’t taste great. What smoothie would if you put carrots in it? But, I didn’t give up, and learned that with practice, my frosty drinks can measure up to those at restaurants.
Currently, I’m in love with my peanut butter banana smoothie, with frozen bananas, peanut butter, milk and a tiny bit of honey. Mom and my sister think it’s disgusting, and Dad is too afraid to try it, but I take it to be as delicious as ice cream. Frozen fruits work the best, and I try not to add excess sugar.
And even though I make more than enough of this healthy snack, my mother still considers it a mess. She tells me that the fruit would taste the same without the blender; I’d just have to chew it myself. Whatever she says, I love making smoothies. Finding Ol’ Beige the Blender has been an experience I compare to finding buried treasure, even if no one appreciates the machine, except me.