So this week, my favorite doughnut place is making strawberry rhubarb jelly filled doughnuts. Strawberry rhubarb. What memories this brings back to me.
.:: Angry Birds
I am not a hip chick. I have never been a hip chick. After 40+ years, I’m guessing the label ‘hip chick’ will never be stuck on me. After all, I continue to lose myself by listening to Cat Stevens and John Denver. In fact, I have Neil Diamond’s Jazz Singer in my Netflix queue. Hip and Lenore are not synonymous.
So, have you ever eaten something so delicious it caused you to sing out in excitement? A friend of mine would sing out with a loud ‘Aaaaaah’ whenever she was – well, let’s just leave it as my friend would sing out whenever she was excited about this or that.
This morning, while I was driving to work, I sang out. Loudly. I was the only person in the car at the time, though I don’t know if that makes my sudden outburst more acceptable or not.
Why the sudden outburst of “Aaaaaaah!”? Because I was stopping by Dutch Monkey Doughnuts to pick up a few, well, doughnuts. When I walked into Dutch Monkey, the desire to burst out in song was great; however, I was able to maintain my composure.
I walked out of the doughnut bakery with a dozen freshly baked doughnuts. And again, when I was alone in the car, I raised my voice to the angels. Crazy, eh? Crazy good, I’m telling you!
My boss and I enjoyed both of the strawberry bismark doughnuts, with fresh sliced strawberries. And honestly, the bismark was so good, I wanted to stop by on the way home to get two more. ‘Tis the season to be gluttonous, right? Alas, I did not go back and get more doughnuts. I think a dozen is plenty.
Here’s the thing, my post today was going to be about parenthood. And yet, the goodness of Dutch Monkey overcame me. Overcame me. So, I had to share.
Our 5yr old is sick. He has had a fever since late Sunday night/early Monday morning. With the fever keeping Joe ‘down’, he has been more willing to cuddle with me. And, I have done my very best to milk his fever for all it is worth – with regards to cuddling, I mean.
Yesterday, I was going through old pictures of Joe, with the intent of finding one particular one taken when he was a newborn. As newbie parents to a baby that liked to cry, Rob and I were exhausted. The picture conveyed the story clearly, and I think it would have made for an excellent Christmas card enclosure. That is, if Joe was born in December. However, he was born in January, and by the time his first Christmas came ’round, we were seasoned parents and I was pregnant with our second baby.
Because Joe is sick and I had the baby picture on my mind, I am reflecting back on my boys being babies. I remember when I was able to sit on the couch with them for hours, cuddling and napping. And, while I’m not looking to raise another newborn, I do enjoy recalling some of the memories of early parenthood.
In my search for the exhausted picture, I found another picture of newborn Joe. Looking more closely at the second picture, I noticed our dog, Cherokee. I think Cherokee liked the babies, too. Actually, Cherokee still loves the boys, especially when the boys are eating.
As I type, Joe is sitting next to me. If he were feeling 100%, Joe would be outside, coloring, building with blocks, playing with his train, etc. But, while feeling under the weather, sitting with Mom works for him. And, Joe sitting with Mom works for me, too! Maybe Joe would like to have a doughnut with me. I have plenty to share. Oh look! Here comes Cherokee.
.:: 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!
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.
.:: 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.
Be kind, and take care of yourself and each other.
Be advised, I am going to whine. Well, I am going to try to whine. Things are a bit crazy in the house right now. The dogs found the cat’s litter box, the kids are running around with scissors, and my husband is beckoning me to the bedroom. Well, we don’t have a cat, so the litter box part isn’t true. And, the scissors have the rounded tip; sure, the scissors are rusty – but rounded, nonetheless.
“Joe, it would be best if you ran with the scissors closed.”
If you are looking for a well organized post with a point at the end, move along to another post, please. If you are looking for humor, well – please continue reading. I will certainly try to accommodate you. (While also trying to accommodate my family.)
“Hang on, Honey! I’ll be there in a minute! Promise. Yep, love you, too!”
Amidst this crazy house, I am looking for a moment of quiet. Last Friday I noted that blogging helps keep me sane; alas, I haven’t had a chance to collect my random thoughts since last Friday. I have been unable to find a moment of silence between the busy household and the many voices in my head. Even as the sun sets and I snuggle in for the night, the voices continue, making my early bedtime not so early.
“Charlie, pick the scissors or the screwdriver. Don’t run with both, please.”
Today, as I drove to my boss’ house, I found myself dosing. Though my morning coffee revs my engines for a bit, I find I begin to drag again by 9am. My husband says I need to start exercising again. I know he is right, but I’m tired. And, since I am tired, I decide pull into Dutch Monkey Doughnuts for some – well, doughnuts – and coffee. I am sure my boss will love having a treat when I arrive. Besides, why get your blood flowing with exercise, when you can use sugar and caffeine?
“Honest, Dear. I’ll be there in a minute. Watch the video one more time.”
And, really, exercise? I can think of countless other things that need my attention more than exercise. Trouble is, I find as I contemplate everything that needs my attention, I want to hunker down and lose myself in a mindless television show. As my every growing butt sits comfortably on the slowly sagging couch, I wonder, “How do you spell lazy?” L E N O R E.
“Cool, Boys! That scissor sword fight looks like fun!”
“Wow – you missed Charlie’s eye by a hair.”
“Skillful dodging there, Charlie.”
Well, I suppose I had better tend to my husband’s beckoning. Plus, based on the red marks I see on the boys’ arms, I may need to pull out some band aids. The good news, the boys will be in bed soon, and my husband? Yeah, he’ll be asleep in 13 minutes. Looks like I’ll get some quiet time after all. I think I’ll have a doughnut.