Another Flighty Friday

.:: Detours and Doughnuts
Heading to my boss’s house one morning, I was surprised to find traffic backing up just passed our subdivision, because I assumed I left late enough to miss the school traffic. Like playing a game of follow the leader, I moved forward inch by inch, as the cars ahead of me did the same. Once I was able to see the intersection, I realized a police man had blocked a lane with his car, and he was forcing cars to either turn around or turn left. Detour.

To a city person, we live in a rural area. The roads around our house are mainly two lanes that meander through horse farms, with a scattering of agricultural farms, too. Once off the main thruway, direct routes are non-existent, and because I was unable to take the main thruway, my ride to work was going to be longer and less direct. I needed to phone a friend.

I called my husband, who is excellent with directions, and I asked him for help in getting me to my boss’s house. He let me know I was on the right path, and he gave me directions to get me where I was going.  After speaking with him, I called my boss to let her know I was going to be late.

Instead of the typical “Hello?” greeting, my boss (clearly using caller ID) answered the phone, “Are you calling to say you are bringing doughnuts?”
I laughed. “No, but I’d love a doughnut, and I’d be happy to stop and get some if you’d like me to.”
“Oh. Why are you calling, then?” She asked, clearly disappointed.

Once I explained the situation, she let me know she was very sad. And, she was quick to clarify why she was sad. She wasn’t sad because I was going to be late to work due to my circuitous route; instead, she was sad because my circuitous route would mean she’d have to wait longer for the doughnut. (I love the fact that I just got to use the word circuitous. Twice. My mom needs to read this post.)

.:: Now, a word (or 100) about the doughnuts …
Dutch Monkey Doughnuts is not your typical doughnut shop. Located in Cumming, GA, this self-proclaimed ‘Mom and Pop shop” is open Tuesdays – Fridays, 5:30am until 4:00pm and Saturdays and Sundays from 7:00am until 1:00pm. Their doughnuts are made from scratch and hand-rolled daily, and they recycle their frying oil into bio-diesel.

The Dutch Monkey offers the standard doughnuts like raised glazed, chocolate iced, Boston cream, apple fritter, etc. But, it is the daily specials and/or special ‘standards’ that make this Mom and Pop shop worth the drive (detour or no detour). If you prefer the simple iced, you may be lucky enough to find a raspberry iced for one of their daily specials. Or, perhaps you’ll find a blueberry jelly doughnut. The day of my detour, I found a buttered maple bacon doughnut. Buttered maple bacon. It was tasty, too.

My favorite is the Dutch Monkey doughnut. The first time I ordered one, I thought I was getting a Boston cream doughnut. At least, it looked like a traditional Boston cream doughnut: round, no middle hole and iced with chocolate. However, when I took a bite of the doughnut, I was surprised to taste an awesome combination of vanilla cream and banana. And, this was no ‘imitation’ banana – this was real, freshly ‘squished’ bananas. Mm mm good.

Now the second time I ordered the Dutch Monkey doughnut (and no, it was not the very same day), I was surprised to get something different. Though the doughnut was still round, hole-less and iced with chocolate, the cream center was more along the lines of a Boston cream doughnut. But wait! There’s more! Hidden under the chocolate icing, I found slices of bananas. Guys, the doughnut was divine. Divine.

The Dutch Monkey doughnut may not strike a ‘yum yum’ chord with you, but I am confident you’d find many other doughnuts within the day’s selection to color you happy. If you find yourself in or around Cumming, GA, I highly recommend a pit stop at Dutch Monkey Doughnuts. In fact, I’d recommend a detour to the doughnut shop. Thank god for detours, and thank god for Dutch Monkey Doughnuts. And while I’m at it, thank god for my boss!

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My first true love was with Krispy Kreme,
A ‘Hot Doughnuts Now‘ lover’s dream.

It’s still the best glazed goodness for this doughnut junkie –
But competition rises with the entrance of Dutch Monkey.

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.:: And now for something completely different . . .
Behold the power of the potty. Potty words. What is so darn attractive about using potty words? I mean, come on folks – poop stinks. Why talk about it? Yet kids seem to find it funny. Kids like our 5yr old, who is smack dab in the midst of his potty words stage. A harmless stage, perhaps, but a stage that could be a gateway to other disrespectful habits. Potty words spew out of this child’s mouth so much, it’s as if he has eaten a pile of prunes. Potty words: the gateway drug to regularity.

Happily, to date, our 5yr old has managed to make it 3 consecutive days without uttering one potty word. I suppose this means – wait for it – he is constipated.

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Be kind, and take care of yourself and each other.

Fat Friday

.:: Prep Time
Today, if you celebrated Thanksgiving yesterday, you may be suffering from a food or family hangover. As we loaded up our car and got ready for the drive to my sister’s house for Thanksgiving, I had to laugh at the grumbling and groaning taking place. So much hustle bustle in preparing for a family function can make for cranky kids and cranky spouses. Once everyone was in the car, I noticed a long period of silence. (Which is no small feat with two boys under the age of 6.) Apparently, we all needed a moment (or five) to decompress from the prep.

Once we reached my sister’s house an hour later, we were all smiles. Happy to be at our destination, we were ready to enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday. My smile grew wider when my brother arrived. My brother’s drive is shorter, just 5 minutes, which leaves little decompression time. And, based on the facial expression of my brother’s two boys, it seemed as though their family prep time also brought with it some grumbling, groaning and crankiness. Ah, the holidays!

Tonight, some of my siblings are heading to our house. We will enjoy dinner together, and then we’ll head out to visit Santa and Mrs. Claus. We’re all looking forward to it. Although, since folks are coming here – Rob, the boys and I won’t have decompression time after we tackle the family-visiting-prep. Uh-oh.

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The holiday craziness has begun –
‘Tis the season for food, folks and fun.

Shopping, wrapping and baking, too –
The list is long – so much to do.

The family time makes life worth living.
So, enjoy the crazy and thanks keep giving.

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Be kind, and take care of yourself and each other.

Friday Fruitcakes and Fantasies

.:: Fruitcake
This week Rob and I drove down to Savannah, GA. As we drove down I-16, we passed by Claxton, GA. What? You’ve never heard of Claxton, GA? How can that be possible? Claxton, GA is the fruitcake capital of the world. Fruitcake capital, people! And, I’m not talking fruitcake as in ‘crazy’.

Hold on. You don’t know what fruitcake is? Fruitcake is cake made with chopped candied fruit, nuts and spices. Though some people actually consume the supposedly edible cake, others use the brick shaped concoction for door stops.

Rob’s Dad is a lover of fruitcake. And, I admit, Rob is a lover of fruitcake. (I saw past this flaw and married Rob anyway.) Driving by Claxton, GA was fitting this week, as it was a fruitcake kind of week. Of course, by fruitcake, I am now using the word to mean ‘crazy’. . .

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.:: Here’s the deal, folks…
With the death of James, this week ‘spent’ me emotionally. James was Rob’s cousin. He was my father-in-law’s nephew. James lived in Jacksonville, FL, and I saw him a handful of times. Still – James and I actively chatted online. Actively. James and I cut-up with each other. He found me funny, and I found him funny. We both appreciated the humor and the laughter. And now? Now, I’ve lost my funny buddy. And, the hole created in my life with the loss of James is huge. I’d love to email James – but ding dang it all, James isn’t here to reply to my email and send me a funny email response to elevate my mood.

I want to be funny. If only as a tribute to James. But, humor is a hard thing to locate right now. Because in addition to losing James, my friend Andrea HT dealing with yucky stuff pertaining to her Mom’s cancer battle. My friend Andrea HT is in the midst of a roller coaster ride, and it isn’t the kind of roller coaster where folks are willing to stand in line for hours to ride.

As I said to Andrea HT, I find myself saying “la la la la la…” in my head, attempting to drown out the sorrow. Hey! I know, in an effort to embrace my crazy and fruitcake-self, I will now change course and start a top 10 – make that a top 8 –  list …

.:: Top 8 Non-sense Words Spoken in Our House
8. Doogie Whompers
7. Bumper-doo
6. Wee-honked
5. Dingle Dork
4. Ka’nuckle Head
3. Bubba Bean Head
2. Kerplunk-kerplooey
1. Ding-dangity

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.:: Fantasy Meets Reality
Continuing with my rattling on of rambles, I share with you a story that has nothing to do with anything … this is a story of my fantasy shaking hands with my reality…

One of the Dads I see at my son’s school is on the attractive side, in part because he has very long hair. (Though the hair is just part of his attractive looks…) Rob knows long hair is something I quite enjoy on guys. I’ve tried puling his hair at night, in hopes of increasing the length – to no avail. And, I’ve joked with Rob about this guy, assuring him that no impure thoughts have crossed my mind. Which is a true statement. Still, I find this long haired man nice to stalk – er – look at.

Well, my son had a program and special lunch at school this week, and Rob and I attended. When it came time to sit down for lunch, the long haired man sat across from Rob. My son was chatting with the long haired man’s son (who happens to be in my son’s class). The next thing I know, the two grown men – Rob and the object of my stalking – er – stares – introduced themselves to each other and shook hands. Excuse me?! What?!

As soon as the two men met, I heard the bursting sound of my fantasy bubble. Now that Mr. Reality and Mr. Fantasy are ‘acquaintances’, my desire to stare at Mr. Long-locks has lessened . .  a bit. *sigh* After the lunch, as we walked to the car, I grumbled to Rob about meeting my fantasy man. Interestingly, Rob has been smiling ever since.

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Be kind, and take care of yourself and each other.