What do you love today, reader?
Don’t those popsicles look fantastic? I think so. We have two different molds; this one takes the cake for sure. I love how they pop out of the glass (with a little warm water encouragement) and look nostalgic and perfectly round at the tip.
Here’s how to make your own delicious and healthy popsicles (not just for kids):
:: double size slender shot glasses with a rounded bottom,
:: popsicle sticks (found at most any craft store, and some supermarkets),
:: fruit juice with no sugar added, or
:: you can simmer down your own fruit (in which case you will also need a small pot, a knife to cut the fruit, a spoon to stir, and a heat source like a stove top),
:: a small mixing bowl,
:: plain (homemade) yogurt, full fat is my taste preference, I’m sure you guessed, but I imagine any will suffice!,
:: and real maple syrup.
:: mix together the yogurt, vanilla, and maple syrup in the small mixing bowl,
:: if you’re simmering your own fruit, choose local and seasonal if you can, dice and simmer on low heat in the pot on the heat source until viscous liquid is formed. I used strawberries and a potato masher to further liquefy the strawberries. Because we try to avoid unnecessary sugar and strawberries are a particularly sweet fruit, I did not add any sweetener. This takes about seven to ten minutes.
:: I love doing stripes of yogurt and fruit mixture, but this may be difficult if the fruit juice is not very thick because the yogurt consistency will want to sink to the bottom. So, if you’re using a thick homemade fruit juice, stripes will work by spooning a little yogurt (about a centimeter tall in the shot glass), then spooning a little fruit mixture, then a little more yogurt, and a little more fruit juice. I fill each glass consecutively so I can account for how much I’m using and evenly distribute.
:: if you’re using fruit juice that is very thin, just pour it in 1/3 of the way full and spoon yogurt into the glass until you’re about 2/3 of the way to the top.
:: if you used thick fruit, stick the popsicle sticks into them and place them in the freezer to transform into delicious spring treats!
:: if you used a thin juice, you will need to freeze them for a little while (maybe a half an hour) to help them form so the sticks will stand upright.
Let them freeze and when they are ready, and you are ready, pour a little warm water over the outside of the shot glass and wiggle that little popsicle stick free and out it pops! Enjoy when it’s warm outside. We like to have them in the evenings after dinner just before bath, because they can be a little drippy.
And, if you find you’ve had too many shot glasses, I will paraphrase my mother’s wise words of advice in college for you:
“You chose the ails which plague you, get up, drink some water, and complete a task, you’ll shape up.” I love it! Enjoy your sweet Tuesday, lovely reader. I will, too!
Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and
changing everything carefully
spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
and fro moving New and
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and
without breaking anything.
It was 1999. I was ripe in my love affair with reading. Most specifically, it was second period English and I had a pass to the library. I stumbled upon the 811 section (poetry) and thus, ee cummings. And so began my love affair with punctuation. Most specifically, the parenthetical marks. And his love affair with spring ignites in my heart a thousand wild flowers, flying on fire into the sky crawling like rolley pollies in fertile garden dirt. So, I wanted to share with you on this happy Spring Saturday one of my favorite loves speaking of one of his favorite loves.
Oh happy Spring weekend, loves!
Cody and I wrote a list the other night of places we love and could envision as our land, our home, and after scratching a line through the third line I looked at him and said “oh well, it’s just the sloppy copy, right?” and he looked a little confused, but generally intuited what I meant (it’s sort of straight forward, no?). You’ve never heard of a sloppy copy before? It’s like the rough draft; you know the sloppy copy, your sloppy copy. And after I said sloppy copy once more, it started to sound a little funny, try it. He had simply just never said it before, and wanted to get back to the list. Though, after the mention of a sloppy copy, my thoughts—decisive and diligent—began to cull all of my own memories for the details from sloppy copy to final draft.
The sloppy copy looks like messy thoughts I had before I took the red pen out to guide my draft in the direction of my dreams; the rough draft as the literal mess on the floor, tangled in the flannel heather grey sheets, in the pantry, the fridge, the clothes on the closet rail, even atop the sewing machine desk (a great northern white bean, a set of ignition keys for the bus, a bobby pin, a cracker and a black ink Pilot precise V7 rolling ball pen). Before I sweep, straighten, sift, sponge, simplify, and sort back to order, the sloppy copy of life looks much like a written first draft (many of which are never seen by another’s eye!). I love and honor the sloppy copy, and not just because I love to say it, or because my own memories of English or Literature are swell, but because rough drafts give us a glimpse of what to do better next time.
The real-life sloppy copy is a live exhibit of that beautiful mess, which sometimes illustrates exactly where we should be and not where we can go. I think there is merit in being with a mess. Even though, often while I’m in the mess, the mere thought of escape or tidy up is as elusive as a sun-speckled saltwater mirage, somehow I imagine I may never see the Texas pecan wood butcher-style counter top again, ever.
Anxiety flushes me as a mess accumulates momentum and I become loaded ready for trigger to revert to days where two-month-old chewing gum lived on my alarm clock radio. My sloppy copy is an animal-rights-activist, dropping off PETA brochures at doctors’ offices in the city, a library-lunch-geek, eating cheerios in the 811 section, a force of full-fledged fervor, especially in the morning hours, a rebel-in-the-name-of-rebellion always armed for a debate, an aspiring newspaper journalist hiding behind the byline, the recorder, the camera, a go-big-or-go-home-dreamer, a deeply passionate adolescent girl. I am apprehensive as if, in the dust of the day, in the mess of the play that young girl will drag all of those characteristics into the here and now. But once I surrender to and honor the girl that I once was, appreciating exactly how much she helped generously create the woman I am, in a sloppy copy kind of way, I am grateful to the mess, to her, and even to my gratefulness (is that uncouth? to be grateful for being grateful?) because I really love who I am now. Let me show you a glimpse of my high school bedroom:
What is your sloppy copy? How–if at all–do you “edit” your real-life rough drafts?
Things I love today:
- This tree and forest photo project by Joni Niemelä makes me excited to go camping. Big time.
- Working on inspiration for my curtains. I settled very happily on this combination
I took the collection to the counter of Harts Fabric to be measured and cut. I needed 10 yards of the stripes, because I want those beautiful stripes running vertical on the downstairs windows in the bus. Just as the fabric store attendant was rolling out the seventh yard, he pulled the cardboard and to my utter disappointment the fabric was a once-in-a-blue-moon (won’t-make-again) print. So, I am on the search for a replacement (or a new bright idea) textile. Any thoughts?
- The Avett Brothers, more Soko, and KPIG Radio
- Beef marrow bones for bone broth. I’m loving the nutrients I’m getting from the marrow.
- Pizza with eggs
What do you love today, you sweet sparkling dew drop?