Delightful Dessert Alert

A few posts ago, I promised to share a recipe with you.

I thought I'd make good on that vow in case you were casting about for something new to make for your Fourth of July celebrations.

No; it isn't a red/white/blue dessert. There is no red jello and no strawberries or blueberries. I regret to say, there is no watermelon in this dish.

You'll have to get your watermelon fix somewhere else. As I will be doing -- straight out of the watermelon.

This is a chocolate dessert, the formal name of which is Chocolate Delight.

Joyce, my good friend at church, shared this recipe with me. She reports that she is not allowed entrance to any family gathering unless she brings a big old dish of Chocolate Delight.

Her sons especially demand it. And while that may or may not be the acid test, it was good enough for me.

So I made it for Memorial Day and all I can say is, yes. We'll put this one in the rotation.

For years, on account of Andrew's love for it, I frequently made Pretzel Salad (a deceptive name) for the big family parties where a jello-type offering was appropriate.

With its crust of crushed pretzels and butter turning crunchy-golden and nut-like in taste, and its layers of Cool Whip mixed with cream cheese and sugar, and strawberry jello crammed with frozen strawberries, it's a winner and there are never any leftovers. 

Or if there ever were, I'd send them home with Andrew. He will testify that it's a dessert he cannot resist.

Chocolate Delight is every bit as good, in a different way. Whereas Pretzel Salad is cool and tart and sweet, this is all decadent chocolate creaminess with the sweet.

And the crust is killer. It's central to this dish so do it exactly as I tell you.

Here's the recipe:

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CHOCOLATE DELIGHT

For Crust:

1 and 1/2 sticks butter, melted

1 and 1/2 cups plain flour

3/4 cup chopped nuts*

Mix blended ingredients and pat smooth in 9x13 baking pan (preferably glass), then bake in 350-degree oven for about 30 minutes or until crust begins to turn golden brown.

* Look. Trust me. Use either sliced almonds or finely-chopped pecans, and do not measure. Just throw in a generous handful. You'll see what I mean. The result is like a giant shortbread cookie. Try not to eat it before it has its fill of filling.

For Filling:

8 oz. full-fat cream cheese

1 cup confectioners 10X sugar

1 8-oz. tub Cool Whip Extra Creamy

Mix cream cheese and sugar well, then add the Cool Whip and mix it all together.

Spread this mixture over the cooled crust.

For Topping:

2 small (3-oz.) packages instant chocolate pudding*

3 cups milk (not 4 cups as would be called for if prepared by box instructions)

1 8-oz. tub Cool Whip Extra Creamy

Mix dry pudding mix with the milk and blend as if for pudding.

Pour the pudding over the cream cheese/Cool Whip layer.

Top the whole thing with the second tub of Cool Whip Extra Creamy.

Refrigerate for at least three hours before serving.

* I used Godiva Chocolate Caramel instant pudding and I highly recommend this.

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If you want, for the patriotic holiday you could top all of this with red/white/blue sprinkles. 

Or plant tiny American toothpick flags across the snowy Cool Whip landscape.

But I stayed true to the vision and garnished the top of mine with about half a bag of Toll House Semi-Sweet Mini Morsels.

I didn't know that these tiny pieces of chocolate were so adorable, or so delicious.

As I've said before, I'm not necessarily one to reach for the chocolate desserts first (with the possible exception of homemade chocolate cake with chocolate icing).

But this one is so silky-smooth, so light, so cold, so creamy, and the tiny morsels on top just enough of a chocolate experience, to make this dessert unique and very special.

If you make it for your people, let me know and tell me what you (and they) think of it.

I don't plan to make Chocolate Delight again for a while, because it's one of those desserts that I cannot resist. It's not time for a treat of this magnitude again, quite yet. 

We must pace ourselves.

Perhaps I'll trot this one out again for Labor Day, when we'll mark the almost-end of summer and celebrate our Stephanie's birthday.

Meanwhile, whatever your menu and however laid-back or elaborate the plans for your family's Independence Day observance and celebration, as always, may the Fourth be with you.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Friday :: Happy Weekend

The case of the recalcitrant canine

Subtitle: Rizzo refuses to ramble.

This post falls firmly into the category of Recent Developments.

As in, Rizzo -- who has been basically walking me for many weeks -- suddenly and without warning, about ten days ago, decided not to walk, but to balk.

Permanently.

The first time it happened was on an ordinary day. We were in the habit of going walkies right around midday.

Our walk takes place strictly in our neighborhood, and, as its distance is approximately two miles, lasts about twenty-five minutes.

Rizzo's habit has been to begin jumping and expressing other signs of joy and enthusiasm the moment I appear dressed in the clothes I wear to walk.

So I'd harness him up and put on my hat and sunnies, and away we'd go.

He practically couldn't wait until the garage door was up to go bolting out into the sunshine and begin checking his messages.

I'd catch up with him in the side yard (that's as far as he'd get) after closing said garage door, and we'd start down the street.

He loved to apply the brakes every few feet in order to mark the random bush or mailbox, but other than that, Rizzo trotted ahead of me with pronounced alacrity.

Until that day, week before last.

We were not even to the halfway point -- where we round a circle and start back towards home -- when Rizzo became stationary. Positively inert.

At first I thought he wanted to leave a drop or two as a greeting for another dog. So I waited.

But he wasn't lifting a hair, much less a hind leg. He simply stood there, looking at me.

I tugged the leash and urged him with my voice, to get a move on.

He gazed at the space around him. And blinked.

I tugged harder. (He wears a harness so I was not pulling on his neck.)

Even so, I had to pull so hard that the harness nearly came off over his neck. Something it is not designed to do.

What is wrong with you? I demanded of my dog. I'd never seen anything like it.

Rizzo continued looking at me.

The more I tugged, the more mulish he became. I thought of a line from Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, uttered by the cute pirate himself:

"That dog is never going to move."

Okay, I said. I'll carry you for three mailboxes. Then you're back on your own legs. Got it?

Rizzo made no reply as I heaved him into my arms.

We trudged along. Three mailboxes later, as promised, I returned him to the pavement.

The little sucker is heavy.

I know you're waiting with bated breath. Did he walk?

That would be an emphatic no.

We stood there for an amount of time, the length of which I don't remember.

I coaxed and I cooed. I attempted to reason with Rizzo, reminding him of how much he loves our walk. Because he appeared to have forgotten.

Finally I had no choice. Do you want to go back home? I asked him, turning as if to reverse our direction of travel.

Immediately Rizzo trotted out in front of me, tautening the leash. In that fashion, with his customary level of ambulatory involvement, he led me home.

Well I never, I thought as, back in the cool kitchen, I un-harnessed him. I'll have to look this up on the internet.

So I did, and what do you know? It's a thing. An actual thing.

It turns out that there are many reasons a dog may suddenly refuse to walk. 

There are the obvious ones: he has a sore paw or some other pain point (nope -- Rizzo makes nary a whine or a groan or a yip or any other indication that he is experiencing discomfort); he doesn't understand the concept of walking on a leash (nope -- usually it's his idea); it's too hot (nope -- temperature wasn't an issue); or he's afraid of something (nope -- unless bushes and yards scare him. I think not).

Or it could be that, just like humans tend to be, he's being lazy.

Yep. I think we have our answer.

Since that day, one time, Rizzo and I made it a fraction of the distance we reached the first time he balked.

Again, with no warning, he flat-out refused to budge until we started back for home.

I was denied my constitutional right to a constitutional that day, and I resented it.

So next time, I harnessed him up and tried to get him to go towards the door.

Not going to happen. He balked in the kitchen, refusing to walk even a few feet.

Today, I took the pictures that illustrate this post. I knew he wouldn't walk; these are purely for your benefit.

The first shot was taken in the side yard where he loves to spend several minutes prior to the walk (the one he'll no longer take).

The second was taken on the street just in front of our house; that's as far as we got before he began impersonating a mule.

The third was taken a few seconds later, when I suggested he go back inside while I took a walk without the privilege of his company.

You can see how well that notion was received.

He pulled me back up towards the garage and, just as he used to wait impatiently for it to open so that he could go out, he waited even more impatiently for it to open so that he could go back in.

I walked alone. I'm guessing that until further notice, that's the way it's going to be.

My lazy mutt, who used to live for walkies, is currently flaked out by my side.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Monday

The back forty

Our momentous birthday/anniversary/Father's Day weekend has passed into history.

It has officially been forty years since TG and I tied the knot.

I mean, seriously. Forty years since that Georgia June day? I can't even.

But here we are, so let's have a show-and-tell post. I would not have you left out of the festivities.

First -- on Friday -- it was Dagny's fifth birthday. Yes; our baby shares a birthday with President Trump.

MAGA!

Five singles adorned the inside of a card from a precious elderly lady at our church.

But Dagny loved all of her cards -- even if they did not contain cash. Because naturally, even cashless, they accompanied a present.

For example, this Baby Alive from Andrew and Brittany.

Big hit.

As were any and all greeting cards that featured dogs.

As well as cards that do NOT feature dogs. This one was from TG and me, and was not stuffed with cash, and still elicited this reaction:

(On her birthday, Dagny gives a new meaning to the term "off the chain.")

Her new bicycle (from her mother) was technically not a surprise, but she was still excited to see it with two pink bows attached.

It's a big deal when you graduate from a scooter to a real bike with training wheels.

Everybody went outside to watch her take it for a spin.

Even with Uncle Andrew and Allissa as her wingmen, Dag still managed to fall and scrape her nose.

I remarked to Chad, standing next to me on the balcony, watching the scene unfold: Into every life a little rain must fall. He agreed and we laughed.

Poor Dagny! But then Mama kissed it better and the tears stopped.

Next up? Cake!

The plastic candelabra I got for a dollar fifty at Walmart held the candles at odd angles.

We just went with it.

They didn't have to be up there for long so it didn't matter.

Baby Alive kept a sharp eye on all of the proceedings.

I know; right? Creepy.

Then it was time to tuck in to that cake -- which Audrey had gotten for free from the Publix bakery, because when she went to pick up the cake she'd special ordered, no one could find it.

They hadn't made Dagny's cake at all. Audrey simply stood there and looked at the manager, who pretty quickly led her to the cake case and urged her to pick out a complimentary confection.

With their apologies.

No apologies were needed the next day, when we all trooped over to Andrew and Brittany's for our anniversary party.

I'd worked for days assembling props for our celebration.

In addition to taking my wedding dress along and hanging it in a window, I had dozens of framed photos and hundreds of photos in albums, for the kids to look at.

Forty years of memories crammed into frames and books. They loved it.

Since it was Father's Day weekend, lots of the pictures featured the children with their dad -- either individually or as a group.

There were flowers. Lots of pretty flowers.

We'd ordered forty red roses from Globalrose, and they sent fifty. So we had some extras.

That was fun. Next to a vaseful of the extra roses I sat one of our wedding invitations, framed.

Meanwhile, in his outdoor kitchen Andrew was grilling inch-and-a-half-thick bacon-wrapped filet mignons from the meat market. I'd let them bask overnight in a marinade of minced garlic and soy sauce.

Andrew had started the steaks in Brittany's oven before carrying them to the grill to finish. They were fork-tender in no time.

Along with the filets (there were burgers and hot dogs for the children) we had baked potatoes, a many-item salad bar, and deviled eggs. For dessert there was cheesecake with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. And sprinkles.

(Where our Brittany is, there are always sprinkles for dessert.)

Everybody was there -- even Joel, who as a pastor is normally pretty busy on Saturdays, preparing for Sunday sevices. He headed home in the late afternoon, taking Little Andrew with him so he'd have a kid of his own on Father's Day.

It was an honor to have all of my children and grandchildren with us for the party.

Even that adorable grandbaby (it's a girl!) due to be born in December.

For the grandkids already among us, I'd bought giant bubble wands.

Speaking of  Little Andrew, he and Melanie were busy trying to beat one another at corn hole.

That was before Little Andrew decided it was time to suit up and make use of the swimming pool until time for dinner.

Rambo was free to roam the grounds and made the most of it. Maverick is too rowdy to be among so many people, so he was in his kennel for much of the day.

Rambo likes being the only dog around. And he likes to take it real easy on warm days.

After supper and before Joel and Little Andrew left for home, I gave the kids a test.

It consisted of twenty-five questions about their dad's and my romance, engagement, and wedding.

There were prizes of giant chocolate bars (fourth place got sugarless gum).

Stephanie/Joel and Erica/Chad tied for first place; Audrey came in third and Andrew/Brittany fourth.

It's all good. I am always amazed at how competitive my children are.

But they all did really well. It was fascinating to see which ones they missed, because I've been yammering about all of this stuff for their entire lives. Now I know who was pretending to listen and who was really listening.

Later, we all lolled in the pool and when it got dark, we sat around a blaze in Andrew's fire pit and ate roasted marshmallows. Some had s'mores. No one wanted to see the evening end.

On Sunday, our men were treated to breakfast at church while the ladies had Sunday School together.

During church, our pastor recognized TG and me. Our roses were on display in front. There was applause and there were many kind congratulations from our friends.

My dress had a Paris theme, an homage to my wedding gown which came from Paris, a creation of the French design house of the late Jacques Heim.

I also wore the same perfume as on my wedding day: Shalimar by Guerlain. But alas, unlike on my wedding day, I did not carry gardenias. They're too hard to find and once found, too much to pay for. 

At any rate, by then it was time to celebrate Father's Day.

With what steam we had left, we all set out for Cracker Barrel. It's just so easy to do. 

I had a gift for Andrew, who is celebrating his first Father's Day as a dad.

I don't go for this father-to-be stuff. You're either a father (or a mother) or you're not. And he is. To that as-yet-unborn little girl.

Our girls, together with their brother, gave their dad a new pair of golf shoes.

It was all he wanted -- if you don't count their love and respect, which he always has.

Speaking of wanted ... to mark this occasion, I wanted (and asked for, and got) a nine-stone diamond anniversary band. Inside, it's inscribed GJ Forty Forever.

TG let me pick it out. I love it. I've actually had it for several weeks. When we got engaged, I had to wait two months for my ring (it was basketball season). So I got this ring two months early.

We had a great time together at lunch on Sunday. And then it was time for Stephanie and Melly and Allissa to go, so that the girls could have some Father's Day with their own dad.

Allissa and Dagny are very close and it was hard for Lissy when it came time to say goodbye.

It's not even summer yet! Not until Friday. I promised Allissa at least one more visit before school starts in August for all of the children.

On Monday morning I was sorting through our cards and gifts. The children generously gave to a fund for a trip TG and I plan to take in the fall, to New England.

They also gave us a collage -- five pictures: one of each of the kids with their families, and one of TG and me.

Of all of the gifts given in this season, this was the only one that made me cry.

You see, I took all of those pictures, except for the one of TG and me, which was taken at Erica's wedding.

The kids each picked their favorite from among pictures I'd taken of them, to contribute to the project.

It was Erica who put it all together.

Shakespeare wrote in the poem Venus and Adonis: Love is a spirit all compact of fire. I would have to agree with the Bard.

And there you have it: Forty photos of our fortieth (and more) festivities. I think we can all agree that everything was celebrated with the proper amount of joy and gratitude, and maybe even with a bit of extra style.

As it should be.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

All aboard the five train

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Happy Friday :: Happy Weekend

So far so good

This weekend, TG and I will celebrate our fortieth wedding anniversary.

Our children and grandchildren will be on hand to mark the occasion with us.

You know that we know how to do that! And that there will be pictures.

But first, Dagny will turn five. On Friday.

Everyone will be in the house for that too. There will be a pool party with pizza and popcorn and presents and -- no doubt -- a cake.

On Saturday, we're assembling at Andrew and Brittany's place for steaks and salad bar and various fixings and trimmings.

Plus more swimming and some reminiscing and, knowing us, another cake.

Sunday, in addition to being Father's Day, is our actual anniversary. All of our children will be in church with us.

Afterwards, we're thinking of going out for lunch -- plus more presents and additional reminiscing.

Who knows? Maybe even more cake.

And after that?

To quote Mary Hatch Bailey: After that ... who cares?

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Happy Wednesday