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Posts Tagged ‘donuts’

Eons ago, I’ve seen my readers Avatars I’m sure it was from before they were born, there was this strange little fellow who did guest appearances on variety shows.  Okay, let me explain that concept.  Variety shows were a combination of – well, variety.  No, everyone has talent singing show, but just one or two acts singing.  A comedy sketch was done and, what became, stand-up comedy.  Sometimes they did sketches, which were micro-mini stories, told in a humorous way in less than five minutes.  It’s the only time I have ever really liked short stories.

Anyway, there was this guy who came out on stage, all by himself, brave man, and would recite a poem he had written.  He would do an Ode to ____, anything. 

Now that you have had your television history lesson, I will move on to the electric skillet.  Also, eons ago, I think for my first wedding, we got an electric skillet.  This was a honker of an electric skillet, solid steel, weight a ton and held four inches or more of grease.  It was great for everything.  You could pretty much do without the stove top with this thing.  I fried pork chops and steak and shit on a shingle.  Ah, make that meat, in gravy on bread (if I remember right).   It looked rather like this:

Electric skillet

One day I discovered I could make homemade donuts.  Dunkin had nothing on me.  Actually, I don’t think Dunkin even existed at this time.  My girls were pre-school and I did my part to add to the clogging going on now in their arteries by frying donuts every morning for one year.  I know this because I remember the house we were renting.

It was a little house on the back of the property and the landlord lived in the front house and used to come through my house when I was gone.  We had two bedrooms but I refused to use the back bedroom because the furnace was in the hall on the way to the bedroom and the fear of life that runs in my family, would not allow me to trust that it wouldn’t blow up one day and we would not be able to get out or to get to our daughters if they were in it.  I guess they slept in a crib and bassinet in our bedroom, as the youngest was still doing her projectile vomiting then.  Life has never suited her.

Oh, that’s good.  I only perpetuated to the clog in the oldest daughters artery, but I made some radically good French Crullers in the day and we ate them as we watched Sesame Street.  It was new.  It was good.  So were the crullers. 

I think my no-oil Vegan diet is making me light headed.  I just took a hunk of cheese, a DEFINITE NO on my diet, popped it in the microwave for 5 seconds and ate it.  The two things I miss the most are melted cheese and butter.  There is no substitute for butter.

I don’t know what happened to that electric skillet.  I mentioned it to my mother the other day, who makes it her business to know who has what in the family and where everything went.  Of course she cannot remember anything that happened last week, but that is for another day.  So, mother says that she has an electric skillet and she would be happy to get it out of her cabinet as she has no room in her senior galley kitchen.  I pull it out and it’s like a toy electric skillet.  I could only cook one crueler at a time in it.  Why do they even make something like that?

I will spare you all and not make a real ode, a rhyming ode, for the skillet.  It would be too painful to read.

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I was reading the comments on Master Daughter’s Blog this evening. And, had to give a shiver at one. Talisman, with his ADD comment, seems to have “foreseen” this post I was working on this morning, but had not posted yet.

I grew up in the television age and now live in the Internet age.  I remember placing my children in front of Sesame Street, as I made the morning doughnuts. Actually, I did make doughnuts, not every morning and certainly not for the healthiest of breakfasts, but I was playing June Cleever at the time.

One daughter, sat quietly and watched tv, soaking up all the information being fed to her. Expanding her brain, and her hips. She is my Master’s Daughter, who would still rather sit and read, knit or Blog, and who spends her summers off from teaching gifted sixth graders, by studying the life cycle of eggs or looking at tomatoes under an electron microscope, whilst wearing a space suit and a badge with a light that goes off right before she becomes supercharged and loses all her calcium. If you need an explanation, Shame on you! You haven’t been reading the most hilarious blog in the universe. http://Braindebris.WordPress.com At least I got it right that time.

The other daughter, sat, not quietly, using the hassock as a jungle gym. She spent the rest of her childhood being pulled by a dog while wearing roller skates (She wore the roller skates, not the dog). I believe she even took showers in those roller skates and delighted in standing on her head and waving her feet in front of the television, thus driving her Master’s sister to push her into the cabinet; (as in “push in and shut the door”)  on a daily basis.

Wikipedia, my favorite source for information, tells us that a study of 2,600 children, ages 1 to 3, in 2004 found that exposure to television may affect their attention span and that internet browsing may also. Attention span – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

In looking at my two daughters, I have to say that our family has disproved this notion. Master’s Daughter, the tv watcher, attended college as an adult, graduated with honors and a Master’s degree; all while raising three sons and Super-Sized husband. (For those of you not in the know, supersized husband is very tall  (at least compared to me), and has many traits of a man reverting to the age of twelve; thus becoming her fourth child. It takes a lot of attention span to keep up with that.

Daughter, who has eleven children, has floated most of her life. I do believe she still wants her roller skates back, but don’t we all and, perhaps, from what little tv she watched may have come the tendency to believe and do anything her husband tells her; thus she is clearly having a problem thinking for herself. Is ADD to blame? Certainly the number of children she has shows concentration in one aspect of her life. And, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love and adore all the munchkins and miss them terribly.

 To take this study one step further, I went to Psychology Today and took their Attention Span Test. Psychology Today: Self Tests. My family, when growing up, had the first television on the block. My father was addicted from the first time he turned that dial on. He took a night correspondence television repair course, well it could have been done by day too, most correspondence courses are somewhat flexible that way, but he worked for Combustion Engineering during the day.

As children from other houses in our neighborhood took home the word of how wonderful this invention was, that the VanVleck’s have, and nagged their families into purchasing a television, my dad became the man to call when it didn’t work right. His move, to retire to Arkansas, saw the largest bonfire in Lake County, Indiana, as we burned the television cabinets he had saved for years, over a two day period.

I felt that I was a good test sample to see if television may have affected my attention span, so I took Psychology Today’s test. (from the link above). This is their report to me:          “According to your score, you sometimes have difficulty maintaining your focus on a task and following it through until completion. People who have short attention spans tend to jump from project to project and are often known to be quite disorganized. This frequently results in missed deadlines, tardiness, and bills being paid late. “

I have never paid a bill late, well hardly ever, I do not miss deadlines and I am rarely tardy. However, I do have a problem with jumping from project to project. A Big problem.

Right now, I have so many projects either started or half done, that I could live to be two hundred and probably never finish them: quilt squares for Master Daughter, quilt for someone undecided (almost finished for ten years now), a quilt for each grandchild (most are already designed with fabric purchased, photo albums for each grandchild (pictures are sorted), sweater for husband (have yarn), endless photos to create paintings from (my new project involves shadows. That way I have an excuse to take more pictures, to put off more painting.), I have a garden sized gorilla just started in my ceramics studio and a project on women’s perception of beauty well underway. Add to that the desperate need to get the house organized and I’m looking at a life sentence here.  And, those darn “knit in the round” socks are cast on for the third time. One Mystery novel needs major editing and revision. One children’s picture book just needs to be put in order to send out.

However, I have just spent the last two plus years working daily on my Young Adult novel and I have fifty pages left of my fifth edit. I’m already crafting my query letter to agents and editors, and I have started a sketchbook that will, hopefully add interest-even if they give this to a book artist for illustrations, because it is a fantasy and maps and details are nice for kids to look at.  SO, when it is important enough, I can finish a project. Should we withhold judgment on that until the book is in the hands of a publisher? I need to also mention that it may take major surgery to make me finish a project, as that is how I started this one.

I have been a computer buff since the KAYPRO. They say the Internet also lowers attention span. If anything, it has helped mine as I tend to click too quickly and miss all kinds of stuff. Like on WordPress, the front page changes by the second. I’ll never know now, since I clicked too fast at sign on: just what kind of haircut your kid  gets when you let your punk friends take the child for a haircut,  or Why Bill Gates is just Now Learning What Dog food Tastes Like (He is retired in a New York walk up and reduced to this?) and  Just what does happen if you wear lipstick?

If I click too fast on my online bank, I am locked out time and again, until they decide that I am an intruder and I have to call the bank to reset my password. I am now on a first name basis with the woman who does this. So, the internet is forcing me to slow down and Meditate on which button to push next. Such decisions! No wonder I don’t have time to finish all my projects.

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