Well, I have been absent from my post, but not intentionally, and not because I was just too darned busy.
I had planned to write on Tuesday, but awoke to find the household in a state of Total Media Blackout. That means no TV, no Internet, no phone service.
Actually, we did have phone service for awhile, but one phone call to tech support and attempt to fix the problem remotely took care of that.
Just goes to show you how best laid plans gang aft agley, as Robert Burns would say.
Our large corporate media channel provider, who shall remain nameless but provides our house with FiOS, could not manage to get one of their minions here until Wednesday afternoon.
That means 36 hours with no communication with the outside world. We might as well have been living in the Dark Ages.
Well, except for the electricity, indoor plumbing and cell phones.
Have you ever tried to read your email on a cell phone? It is an extremely painful exercise. I don't recommend it.
We were reduced to actually doing something meaningful on Tuesday evening. At first I thought, well, maybe this is a good thing. We can do what families used to do, play Monopoly and Scrabble, and converse. It will be sort of a Little House on the Prairie thing, without the oil lamps and hard labor.
But, of course, that would require not just a TMB but a power outage, which really does reduce us to Stone-Age conditions, what with the well pump and all. Spence was still able to play his PS2 and simultaneously talk on his cellphone, so I could not get his attention even if I set my hair on fire. Norm was working. I had run out of Lost DVDs to watch, so I got a brilliant idea.
I'll make candy.
Those who have read my posts before know that I am powerless in the face of the gods of Chocolate. It is the only substance to which I am totally addicted. If you ever want me to do something for you, just wave a bar of 60% Cacao in my face.
I first dipped my toe into the chocolate lake last year, when I made truffles. They were cherry bombs of delight. The interesting thing is, that when working with it, smelling it, melting it, pouring it, I don't necessarily have to eat it. Chocolate is such a sensory feast just to behold, so beautiful a color, so smoothly soothing, that the rest of my senses are fully occupied and my taste buds are kind of put to sleep.
So, I got out some candy making stuff, and started in.
Pretty soon Spence wandered into the kitchen, saw the chocolate, and the next thing I knew, we were both fully engaged in a creative pursuit that certainly was kin to what the Ingalls may have done just before Christmas. Nothing mesmerizes like the product of the cacao bean.
I had planned to write on Tuesday, but awoke to find the household in a state of Total Media Blackout. That means no TV, no Internet, no phone service.
Actually, we did have phone service for awhile, but one phone call to tech support and attempt to fix the problem remotely took care of that.
Just goes to show you how best laid plans gang aft agley, as Robert Burns would say.
Our large corporate media channel provider, who shall remain nameless but provides our house with FiOS, could not manage to get one of their minions here until Wednesday afternoon.
That means 36 hours with no communication with the outside world. We might as well have been living in the Dark Ages.
Well, except for the electricity, indoor plumbing and cell phones.
Have you ever tried to read your email on a cell phone? It is an extremely painful exercise. I don't recommend it.
We were reduced to actually doing something meaningful on Tuesday evening. At first I thought, well, maybe this is a good thing. We can do what families used to do, play Monopoly and Scrabble, and converse. It will be sort of a Little House on the Prairie thing, without the oil lamps and hard labor.
But, of course, that would require not just a TMB but a power outage, which really does reduce us to Stone-Age conditions, what with the well pump and all. Spence was still able to play his PS2 and simultaneously talk on his cellphone, so I could not get his attention even if I set my hair on fire. Norm was working. I had run out of Lost DVDs to watch, so I got a brilliant idea.
I'll make candy.
Those who have read my posts before know that I am powerless in the face of the gods of Chocolate. It is the only substance to which I am totally addicted. If you ever want me to do something for you, just wave a bar of 60% Cacao in my face.
I first dipped my toe into the chocolate lake last year, when I made truffles. They were cherry bombs of delight. The interesting thing is, that when working with it, smelling it, melting it, pouring it, I don't necessarily have to eat it. Chocolate is such a sensory feast just to behold, so beautiful a color, so smoothly soothing, that the rest of my senses are fully occupied and my taste buds are kind of put to sleep.
So, I got out some candy making stuff, and started in.
Pretty soon Spence wandered into the kitchen, saw the chocolate, and the next thing I knew, we were both fully engaged in a creative pursuit that certainly was kin to what the Ingalls may have done just before Christmas. Nothing mesmerizes like the product of the cacao bean.
After all, the most active chemical compound in chocolate is theobromine, which is Latin for "food of the gods".
I made some chocolate Santas with a Wilton mold I had purchased; Spence had an idea and made stars that were half dark chocolate and half red-colored white chocolate. He only made four of them, so we each had one and saved some for Dad. They were heaven.
Wednesday afternoon our communication savior showed up, replaced some dinky little wire, and we were back in business. But our candy-making project has started us down a path that may prove to be quite delicious, as well as a great family activity.
I am sure that somewhere, Laura Ingalls is smiling.
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