Last week, 8-year-old Sam proudly announced that he would be reading the dictionary.  Reading.  The.  Dictionary.  Oh dear.  Is this an early onset of Summertime boredom?  Is this an epically ambitious goal?  Is it a mixture of both?  Perhaps, inspired by his older brother’s 2^nd place spelling bee finish, Sam would like to better himself.  Could it be an ultimate combo?  A boredom inspired sibling rivalry taking the form of a lofty goal.  Could be.

All I know is that for the last few days, Sam has been stuck on the mid-A’s.  Hopefully, he has reached the apotheosis of this endeavor.  “Apotheosis.”  A-P-O-T-H-E-O-S-I-S.  “Apotheosis.”

Heading to the Minnesota Twins game, I thought for sure I had a great strategy for getting on the Jumbotron.  In between innings, always wear my red spandex mask.  The same mask that I occasionally wear for my son’s Willmar Red Sox games.  No exception, wear the mask.

Well, I tried hard…

Group photo?  Check.

Annoy random lady in jean jacket sitting behind me?  Check.

But no matter how hard I tried, no appearance on the Jumbotron.  As the game approached the ninth inning, it became hard not to notice the somewhat inebriated folks in the row in front of us.  This was especially true when one of their party took off his shirt, which promptly created a buzz among his friends.  “Dude, you are going to get kicked out.”  “Put back on your shirt, I’m not kidding.”  “It’s considered indecent exposure.”  Well thankfully peer pressure worked and the man put back on his shirt and covered up his pasty not-anywhere-close-to-Brad-Pitt-type physic.

The closer shut down the top of the ninth and the Twins won.  I wore my red hood for one final (and again unsuccessful) attempt to appear on the Jumbotron.  Oh well, I tried.  That’s when newly shirted and wanting to sober up man turned to see my costume.  Then looking at me with sad and somewhat tipsy eyes, he asked in a very sincere and oh so awkward way, “Can I try on the mask?”

A bit stunned by the question (after all, who asks to wear anything made of spandex that has been on another person’s body?), I somewhat reluctantly said, “Sure.”  I did not want to hurt his feelings, but on the other hand, I had no idea where his head or hair had been earlier in the day.  The situation saddened my soul.

Handing over the mask, he tried it on for a very long and very uncomfortable minute.  Then he asked several times where I bought it.  “Ebay” was my response each time.  His mind struggled to grasp the transaction.

Now, after I wash my spandex mask in hot water with a generous helping of laundry detergent, I shall live my life by a new creed.  “Dudes should not wear other dude’s hats, especially when spandex is involved.”  That’s just a squeeze play in a bad way.  Say hey.

CHOCOLATE CHIP SHORTBREAD STRIPS

“Looking for a treat that is simple to prepare, but appears oh so elegant?  Here’s the snack for you.  With a lovely balance of shortbread and chocolate, these strips are pleasing to taste, as well as a treat for your eyes.  Enjoy with a cup of morning coffee and your day will start off of right.”

1 cup Butter

¾ cup Powdered Sugar

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

2 cups Flour

¼ teaspoon Salt

½ cup Mini Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips

Additional ½ cup Mini Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips for drizzle

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cream butter and powdered sugar.

Mix in vanilla extract.

Mix in flour and salt.

Stir in ½ cup mini semi-sweet chocolate chips.

Line a 9” square baking pan with foil and leave enough foil overhanging to allow for easy shortbread removal later.

Using your fingers, press the dough into the pan covering the bottom surface.

Score the surface six times and then once across to make fourteen bars.

Bake for 35 minutes or until lightly browned.

Upon removal from the oven, rescore the bars and allow to cool completely in the pan on a wire rack.

Once cool, remove and cut into bars, using the score lines as a guide.

Melt the additional ½ cup of chocolate chips in the microwave.

Drizzle over bars.

Allow chocolate to set for about one hour.

Makes about 14 cookies.

Revised Source:  “Chocolate Chip Shortbread” recipe on www.foodnetwork.com.

At work I needed to gather data regarding how many boats are being launched at the various accesses throughout the county (Don’t ask details, just accept that it’s a good thing and will help better allocate resources.  Remember, I’m a trustworthy guy.  After all, you’re reading this with an open and loving heart.).  In order to accomplish this, we enlisted the help of some car counters, just like what you see on highways gathering information.  The only thing is that these are super cool car counters.  They look sort of like spy wear.  An electronic device so cool that you would not want to try and carry it into an airport.  Trust me (again), that would be a bad idea.  A very bad idea (no really, trust me on this one).  Any who, they are really cool and use an infrared signal for detection, so they can be buried a little under the ground and work just fine.

The super cool spy wear car counter.  In the hands of such an awesome bureaucrat, it will be a powerful data collection tool.  I smell an incredible spreadsheet in my future!

 Well, I needed to test out the unit and ensure that it only picked up cars and boats, rather than people taking a stroll.  First I tested it in front of my office, buried in a flowerbed.  Sure enough, it was only picking up cars and not folks walking into the building.  Next up, bury it at a boat access and see what kind of data it collects.

It was a rainy Friday, when I had all of the pieces assembled.  I grabbed a shovel and headed out for my test.  Standing in the rain in my black suit and dress shoes, I acted quickly.  I dug a shallow grave, placed the unit in the ground, reflected solemnly on my handiwork, threw the shovel back into my car, and headed out satisfied with a job well done.  I was at peace.  Returning to the office, I let my boss know what I was up to and gave the Sheriff a heads up, in case he got any strange calls about a creepy guy walking around with a shovel burying suspect electronic devices.

Returning on Monday, I brushed aside the dirt and observed that the unit appeared to be working fine.  Success.  Maybe I had a future as a super spy with all of my covert gear and suave attire.

Heading into the office, I saw my boss and gave him the good news.  Then as an aside, he informed me that the park manager had given him a call.  Apparently, there had been a suspicious man wearing a suit and carrying a shovel, who drove up to a boat access and buried a box.  The park manager’s thought, “He is burying ashes by the side of the lake.”  And that is how my budding career as a super spy ended.  In a shallow lakeside grave.  Oh and by the way, if I pass on, please don’t bury me by a boat access.  Take a little extra time and scatter me onto the lake’s surface.  A much better resting place for a bumbling wannabe super spy and a much better place for me to count boats from the great beyond.

Rest in Peace, ultra-cool car counter.  Ah a super bureaucrat and his toys.

North America.

Dense Forests.

Plaid.

Lumber Mills.

Beards.

Flapjacks.

A land where a man can be a man

and blue oxen are part of the family.

Woodsmen.

Lumberjacks.

Huntsmen.

Loggers.

Real men that write daily tales about their misadventures, post recipes, and take amusing photos.

Wait.  What?  Those aren’t loggers?  Oh, you mean bloggers.  Hey, I’m one of those!  Are you a logger, too?  No, I did it again, I mean blogger.  Are you a blogger, too?

Coming this Summer to the Goodness Coffee House…

A joint Goodness Coffee House and www.CookiesbyDave.com production…

“Blog as Art”

The Blogosphere will never be the same.

Mail time is an exciting time for me.  At lunch, I head to the mailbox eager to see what awaits.  Bills?  A package?  A letter from my mom?  A postcard from my friend Andy?  Ads?  A fresh order of www.CookiesbyDave.com swag?  More bills?  More bills for www.CookiesbyDave.com swag?  It doesn’t really matter, it is always a surprise.  Always fun regardless of the contents.

Well, today I headed to the mailbox.  Reaching in, I pulled out our cable bill, a non-profit mailing, and this…

Now, I don’t have a problem with models of any sort.  They need to work, too.  I also don’t have a problem with mailings from department stores.  They need the business, too.  What I do have a problem with is associating this guy with “dads.”  This hybrid of James Dean and the members of One Direction looks nothing like me.  Nothing like any dad I know.  Just not right.  Those nautical shorts.  That sweater that would never properly fit over his long sleeved shirt.  Just not right.  Miss of the target audience.

Unless of course the target audience is my wife.  Or my kids.  Anyone who might purchase a Father’s Day gift for me.  Let’s address these target audiences one-by-one.  First my wife.  She might look at this “dad” and think, “Hum, attractive, but too young.”  “That convertible that he’s driving.  It would never fit a car seat.  He probably can only afford it, because he spends way too much time at work.”  Too self-centered.  Not good “dad” material.  Sure, he may be a father, but he is unlikely  a “dad.”  (Yes, I am being judgmental, but this is my safe space.  Give me a break.)  For instance, where is he worse for the wear?  Why doesn’t his evening beer sit on his gut like a sack full of sawdust.  Never mind the question, “Does he look like he would help clean up your child’s vomit at 2AM?”  Nope.  Never.  No chance.  “Could he bake a yummy cookie?”  Please…  Attractive, yes.  A good time, probably.  Eye candy, perhaps, but still just not right.  Miss of the target audience.

Second, my kids.  Does this guy look like he would wrestle with his kids on the floor?  Nope.  Never, unless he is acting out of character, just to earn lovin’ points with mom.  That’s enough for disqualification alone.  Just not right.  Miss of the target audience.

So today, I visited the mailbox and I was greeted by something other than a “dad.”  I was greeted by a model.  A poser.  So if you want the real thing.  The ugly truth.  Fatherhood, with all of its warts.  Look no further than the guy getting the mail, not the dude in the mailbox.  #Truth

Bonus Footage (i.e. ramblings) – Plus he looks like a guy who would never remain at work with an egg yolk stain on his pants. That’s right, an egg yolk stain. So I needed to work off site a little this morning. On the drive back to my main cubicle, I passed a gas station/convenience store that has yummy breakfast croissant sandwiches. Honest, they are really yummy. Even though they are by no means a permissible food on my diet, I figured how much can one yummy gas station/convenience store breakfast croissant hurt? Plus, given the fact that it was almost 11:30AM, the croissant would count as lunch. Bonus. So as luck would have it, they had some croissants still remaining in the warmer display thing (surprise). Mind you, they were not sausage, egg, and cheese croissants (my favorite), but rather ham, egg, and cheese croissants (far from being my favorite). They would have to do (ugh, the sacrifices I make in life). So I took the croissant with the thick piece of ham back to my cubicle. Settling in, I took a strong bite (considering that the undesirable slice of ham was so thick, a strong bite was necessary) and what happened? A big old splurt (that’s right, it was a “splurt”) of egg yolk jumped out and landed on my inner right pant leg. Perhaps, some kind of curse for a flagrant dietary violation. Perhaps. Well, this never happened with my good ol’ sausage croissant. For some reason, their eggs were always perfectly prepared over hard (which by the way is a phrase that I am very uncomfortable typing). Any who, this dude, who is posing as a dad, would never be caught dead with egg yolk on his nautical themed pants, much less caught dead eating a gas station/convenience store breakfast croissant. ‘Nuff said. Case closed.

At some point in time, I do not recall when, the preparation of Instant Oatmeal became an overly complicated process.

Step 1) Me:  “(Name a child, any child), what flavor of instant oatmeal would you like?”

Step 2) After what seems like 20 minutes of intense reflection, while staring at the cupboard…  “Peach.”  It’s always peach.

Step 3) Combine packet contents with ½ cup milk (not water, because I go all out).

Step 4) Microwave for 2 minutes, while I conduct a multitude of other errands for my children, including hearing them complain about what is going to be served for school lunch (#CryMeaRiver), but answer that they have procrastinated so long with breakfast that I no longer have time to pack them a lunch.

Step 5) Spoon the now piping hot peach oatmeal (also contains “Cream” in the title, because “Peaches and Cream” sounds so much yummier) into a new bowl so that the bowl it is served in is not hotter than the sun, because there is no time to wait for the bowl to cool off, since they procrastinated so long in getting breakfast started.

Step 6) – Only for 6-year-old Ben – Place newly filled bowl of peach oatmeal into the freezer for exactly 2 minutes to ensure that in no way could the peach oatmeal ever be classified as scalding hot and is now lukewarm at best.

Well this morning, I inadvertently mixed things up a tad.  During Step 5, as I used an oven mitt to hold the hot bowl, while spatulaing (new word, patent pending) the contents into the room temperature bowl, I lifted my newly oven mitt covered hand too quickly.  This rapid action lifted the fabric belt of my bathrobe high into the air.  Then in a whip like fashion the belt ends landed in the peach (and creamy) oatmeal.  “Thwhack!  Thwhack!”

Pulling the peach oatmeal covered belt from the bowl, I served the delicious not-so-piping hot cereal to my child.  What happens in the kitchen, stays in the kitchen.  #WordstoLiveBy

On the way to work, I figured I would run a simple errand.  Nothing special, just return a DVD to the video store.  Pulling into a parking spot and strolling toward the drop box, I had no idea of the terrible experience that awaited me.  An experience of fear and reflection.  Of panic and peace.  Of the moment and eternity.

The motion was simple.  A motion that my hand has made many a time over the course of my life.  I pushed the DVD through the return slot.  I turned to leave.  I quickly pulled my hand out of the slot.  Then a jolt.  A sudden whip motion.  I was pulled back toward the slot, as my wedding ring hooked beneath the metal flap.  I was being returned.  Apparently there was a late fee due and I would pay the ultimate price.

As I remained stuck for what seemed like an eternity (probably less than three seconds), I considered the greater context of my fate.  I would be stuck forever not only in a video store lobby, but also in a dietary purgatory.  Stuck forever between Little Caesars to the North and Snap 24-Hour Fitness to the South.  Forever smelling pizza, but never being able to taste.  Forever wanting to run, but never reaching a treadmill.  My mind faded.  My senses dimmed.  I felt my soul drifting.  I smelled Crazy Bread.  That is when my captor smiled upon me.  The evil steel video return slot released me.  I was again free.

Looking at life with a renewed sense of gratitude, I bid farewell to Family Video and continued my walk through the parking lot.  A walk on that fine line between food and fitness.  A walk between Heaven and Hell, although I could not clearly tell the destination from the eternal ramifications.  Life is like that.  Life is full of hard choices, especially when you stand stuck in the middle.  Indeed, life is full of choices and for my own safety, in the future I had better select On Demand.

LYNN’S LEMONY WHITE CHOCOLATE COOKIES

“A rainy day makes for great cookie baking weather.  Rain on a holiday weekend makes it even better.  So when my friend Lynn Travaglio posted about some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies that she had just made, it was just the push I needed.  Since Lynn loves lemon, I figured I would experiment a little and the results were delightful.  Taking a basic cookie recipe (I went to the reliable ‘back of the chocolate chip bag’ source for this base recipe), I boosted its flavor profile with a pop of lemon goodness.  I must say, the end result was ‘lemonlicious,’ in a silky subtle sort of way.  So don’t let the rain get you down, add a little sunshine to your life and bake some cookies.”

½ cup Butter

1 cup Sugar

1 Egg

2 teaspoons Lemon Extract

½ Tablespoon Lemon Juice

6 drops Yellow Food Coloring

½ Tablespoon Lemon Zest

1¼ cups Flour

½ teaspoon Baking Soda

¼ teaspoon Salt

1 cup White Chocolate Chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cream the butter and sugar.

Mix in the egg, lemon extract, lemon juice, yellow food coloring, and lemon zest.

Mix in the flour, baking soda, and salt.

Stir in the white chocolate chips.

Drop tablespoon sized balls of dough onto parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Bake for 9 minutes or until the cookie bottoms are lightly browned.

Makes about 27 cookies.

Revised Source:  “Heshey’s Perfect White Chip Chocolate Cookies” recipe from the back of a bag of Hershey’s Premier White Chips.

FRUITY PEBBLES COOKIES

“I have tried ‘Fruity Pebbles Cookies’ in the past and a recipe is even included in my cookie cookbook ‘Today is a Great Day for a Cookie’ on page 53.  Today’s recipe stands out in that it includes vanilla pudding mix, which really assists the cookie’s taste and texture.  A wonderfully fun, colorful, mildly crunchy, and delicious cookie made even better.  Enjoy.”

¾ cup Butter

1 cup Sugar

3.4 ounce package of Instant Vanilla Pudding Mix

2 Eggs

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

2¼ cups Flour

1 teaspoon Baking Soda

2 cups Fruity Pebbles Cereal

1 cup White Chocolate Chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cream butter and sugar.

Mix in the instant vanilla pudding mix.

Mix in the eggs and vanilla extract.

Mix in the flour and baking soda.

Stir in the Fruity Pebbles and white chocolate chips.

Drop tablespoon size balls of dough onto a parchment paper lined baking sheet.

Bake for 10 minutes or until lightly browned on the cookie bottoms.

Makes about 48 cookies.

Revised Source:  “Fruity Pebbles Cookies” recipe from Renee Furman’s “Recipes & More” Facebook group.

Another satisfied customer at www.CookiesbyDave.com.