Showing posts with label Dad's oatmeal cookies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dad's oatmeal cookies. Show all posts

Monday, 6 October 2014

Monday Moanings - October 6, 2014

My Monday is jam packed with things to do and places to be, so I'll leave you this day with an old chestnut from Autumn 2011.



Conkers!

I love finding horse chestnuts in the Fall.  It’s a real thrill to pry open the thick spiny green shell -- a bit like opening a gift wrapped present. There is such an anticipation of delight.  My recent finds are no exception.  The outer shell gives way to reveal a gorgeous nugget of deep red brown roundness with a creamy top.  It reminds me of a perfect espresso with a crema top.  The delicate swirls of pattern invite my thumb to trace the contours over smooth shiny curves.   Fifty years melt away...

©Matka Wariatka - Fotolia.com

I look up from my English notebook to make sure nobody is watching me.  The teacher is writing in her daybook, and the other kids all have heads down, pencils scratching out a story.  My story isn’t going very well.  It’s stupid.  I can never come up with anything good.  But recess is just minutes away, so I reach into my desk, past the packet of Dad’s oatmeal cookies to find the tangle of shoelaces.  I tease through the tangle to grasp the two round chestnuts, ready for action.  Just yesterday I found these under the big tree in the neighbour’s yard.  I raced home and headed right downstairs to my Dad’s workbench to get the hammer and a big nail.  It was a little tricky -- the chestnuts were a bit slippery and didn’t want to stay still on the floor -- but I got a good hole through two of them.  A third one split.  Oh well, good thing I picked up three!  Then I had to go find shoelaces.  The big thick ones are the best, like the ones I found in my sister’s skates.  Perfect!  I put a good knot in the end of the laces and strung a chestnut on each one.  Two beauties ready for action.

© Lensman300 - Fotolia.com

Ring!  The recess bell made me jump, but in no time I was in line and ready to head out the door.  Danny, the boy with the ‘five year bully’ (meaning he had beaten five others with this conker) had a bunch of boys already gathered around him, ready to try their luck.  I join the group.  They tease me as usual, being the only girl and all, but I don’t like skipping or hopscotch.  I like conkers!  One by one chestnuts smash against each other and one by one the boys ahead of me leave behind their broken bits.  Now it’s my turn to get demolished – well that’s what the boys say!  I crouch down on my knees and take out the really big conker and lay it in the pit.  I close my eyes and Danny takes his best shot with his now eight year bully.  SMACK!  “It’s your turn now.” somebody says.

“What?” I stammer, “My conker is still in one piece?”  I dry my hands on my pants, then grab the end of the shoelace and hold it tightly with my right hand.  I wrap my left thumb and forefinger around my conker and draw the shoelace up tight.  SNAP!  I see bits of chestnut flying in the air.  But they’re not mine.  WOW!   I just smashed an eight year bully to smithereens!  “I did it!  I did it!”

Ring!  Recess is over.  I quickly stuff my best ever conker into my pocket and skip back into school. Now I have something good to write about and a one year bully in my pocket.   Cool!

© macroart - Fotolia.com


©2014 April Hoeller

Monday, 30 September 2013

Monday Moanings - September 30, 2013

That's How the Cookie Crumbles...

Aw shucks!
After some sixty years plus, Mr. Christie's Bakery in Etobicoke shuts down today. A sprawling factory at Park Lawn Road and the Lakeshore, this factory and, more importantly, cookie outlet store has succumbed to age and neighbourhood development. Some 500 employees have to find new jobs.

For a time back in 2002, the cookie outlet store was a welcome refuge for my sister and I. We were struggling through the early days of discovery of Alzheimer's Disease in our mother. It was a wild roller coaster ride and we never could be sure of what lay around the next corner, but we knew where to get good cookies! A hop, skip and a jump away from the condo Mom was staying in at the time stood the long arms of  Mr. Christie. He beckoned with sweet aromas of fresh baked cookies in bulk packages at bargain prices.


My all time favourite was Dad's Oatmeal Cookies. They were the best for dunking in a tall glass of milk. Others may champion Oreo's as the best dunker, but not me; Dad's Oatmeal all the way, though Chips Ahoy held a solid second place in the milk dunking class. Animal crackers came in a box decorated with drawings of jungle scenes and with a white string handle just perfect for a child's hand. There were Arrowroot cookies, Pirate peanut butter cookies, Ritz crackers, Stoned Wheat Thins, Triscuits and even Bits & Bites.

Sometimes the labels were crooked, misprinted or just plain wrong (Triscuits with a Ritz label); sometimes the cookies were a tad overdone or the tops and bottoms of the Oreos didn't line up; sometimes the cookies were just broken (that meant the calories leaked out, right?); none of this made any difference to the taste. Both my sister and I had two teens at home back then, who, after a quick "How's gramma?" question, asked "What cookies did you get? Hope you got more Chips Ahoy!"

Though it did nothing for my waistline, the store offered respite care in critical moments. It was comfort food and good therapy. Today I send a heartfelt "Thank You" to all the folks who worked at Mr. Christie's.



Thursday, 29 September 2011

Conkers!


I love finding horse chestnuts in the Fall.  It’s a real thrill to pry open the thick spiny green shell -- a bit like opening a gift wrapped present. There is such an anticipation of delight.  My recent finds are no exception.  The outer shell gives way to reveal a gorgeous nugget of deep red brown roundness with a creamy top.  It reminds me of a perfect espresso with a crema top.  The delicate swirls of pattern invite my thumb to trace the contours over smooth shiny curves.   Fifty years melt away...
 

I look up from my English notebook to make sure nobody is watching me.  The teacher is writing in her daybook, and the other kids all have heads down, pencils scratching out a story.  My story isn’t going very well.  It’s stupid.  I can never come up with anything good.  But recess is just minutes away, so I reach into my desk, past the packet of Dad’s oatmeal cookies to find the tangle of shoelaces.  I tease through the tangle to grasp the two round chestnuts, ready for action.  Just yesterday I found these under the big tree in the neighbour’s yard.  I raced home and headed right downstairs to my Dad’s workbench to get the hammer and a big nail.  It was a little tricky -- the chestnuts were a bit slippery and didn’t want to stay still on the floor -- but I got a good hole through two of them.  A third one split.  Oh well, good thing I picked up three!  Then I had to go find shoelaces.  The big thick ones are the best, like the ones I found in my sister’s skates.  Perfect!  I put a good knot in the end of the laces and strung a chestnut on each one.  Two beauties ready for action.
© Lensman300 - Fotolia.com

            Ring!  The recess bell made me jump, but in no time I was in line and ready to head out the door.  Danny, the boy with the ‘five year bully’ (meaning he had beaten five others with this conker) had a bunch of boys already gathered around him, ready to try their luck.  I join the group.  They tease me as usual, being the only girl and all, but I don’t like skipping or hopscotch.  I like conkers!  One by one chestnuts smash against each other and one by one the boys ahead of me leave behind their broken bits.  Now it’s my turn to get demolished – well that’s what the boys say!  I crouch down on my knees and take out the really big conker and lay it in the pit.  I close my eyes and Danny takes his best shot with his now eight year bully.  SMACK!  “It’s your turn now.” somebody says.  

“What?” I stammer, “My conker is still in one piece?”  I dry my hands on my pants, then grab the end of the shoelace and hold it tightly with my right hand.  I wrap my left thumb and forefinger around my conker and draw the shoelace up tight.  SNAP!  I see bits of chestnut flying in the air.  But they’re not mine.  WOW!   I just smashed an eight year bully to smithereens!  “I did it!  I did it!”
 

Ring!  Recess is over.  I quickly stuff my best ever conker into my pocket and skip back into school.  Now I have something good to write about and a one year bully in my pocket.   Cool!
© macroart - Fotolia.com