I may have mentioned this before, but it’s still Peeps season.
As far as I’m concerned, it will remain Peeps season until all of the Peeps are gone.
I’m talking about the coveted and cabineted ones. Even with the holiday in my rearview, there’s still time to increase the stash. I’ll be ‘Peep Seeking’ a little while longer in the likely vain hope of a misplaced carton or even sleeve.
I admittedly will not give up until it becomes clear I will not find this year’s coveted flavor. I sadly started the search too late, and was left standing forlornly in Target staring at the empty box labeled “Vanilla Caramel Brownie Peeps.”
I also admit that I might not have believed that was a true special occasion creation, but, as I said, I saw the empty box for myself. In retrospect, I should have photographed it. It would have made a social media plea for them an illustration of frustration and perhaps I would have been flooded with good-willed Vanilla Caramel Brownie Peeps. Sigh.
Sometimes the very thing that makes me happy, makes me sad, and then makes me laugh.
My husband, Jeff, was a man who would not even slightly hesitate to insert his entire arm into a cow’s uterus.
So, how a cute little squishy marshmallow chick could cause him to cringe, shake and gag was always beyond me.
Physically. He’d watch me bite into one, and pull his head back like he wanted to turtle into his own shoulders. He’d wave his hands at waist-level, muttering “yuck” and shivering into goosebumps.
As true love often does, I willingly made small sacrifices for Jeff, and Jeff willingly made small sacrifices for me. One of the sweetest involved the seasonal search and appropriate pre-consumption seasoning of Peeps.
Religiously poking holes in their cellophane habitats, Jeff would clandestinely hide my favorite treats somewhere I was sure never to look. You know, that almost useless over-the-stove cabinet that only tall giant-sized people ever consider an actual place to store things.
He went to all this trouble for two very good reasons.
The first was so that the adorable, delicious candy creatures would be ever-so-slightly crunchy-stale when he ceremoniously presented them to me on whatever holiday it was we were celebrating.
The second was for the kiss he knew he would get after I finished squealing in delight.
The kiss had conditions, though: it had to occur after presentation, before ingestion. I tried it once the other way and Jeff objected.
“Ew,” he’d said. “Don’t ever kiss me after you eat one of those!”
After that, he always insisted on that order, sometimes going as far as keeping them way above me with his outstretched arm. “Kiss first!” he’d grin. And I would happily oblige.
Quote for the Week:
Jeff was a crafty fellow.
Not that you could ever tell that by looking at him. In fact, if you didn’t know him well, you’d probably never even suspect; latch hooking, beading, Christmas Ornaments.
He loved crafts, and was talented, too. I have a Dream Catcher Jeff fashioned from a kit, adding his own touches of shells and beads. It’s hung in every place I’ve called home on my own since 2006.
Among the other treasures I’ve carried with me and moved 4 times, is the wedding one.
Like so many other “it’s so easy,” projects that really seem that way in print, it was a little more complicated and a little more time consuming than we had imagined. We worked on this feat of engineering together.
We started on a Saturday afternoon, which turned into an evening. After 5 hours, I wanted to abandon the idea . “We’re never going to get this,” I pouted showing him another limp, feeble and ugly attempt.
“Look,” he grinned, proudly holding up the one he had just finished. “We’ve almost got it!”
I admit it looked way better than any of the ones I had attempted, and considering he was waving it around a bit, it held together way better than the dozen or so attempts.
I agreed to give it one more try, this time, we split the pieces up. I did my assigned part, and Jeff did his. And just like that, we had one that looked like it was supposed to and didn’t fall apart when it was put down and lifted back up.
We spent hours lazily multitasking. Doing a few here and there, or parked on the couch watching NASCAR or American Idol or Antiques Roadshow or This Old House, working for an hour or so, or until our fingers were sore.
I had the first 3 steps. The 4th step took two of us working together. Jeff was the finisher. Wrapping each stem in green floral tape required the most patience and the most finger-work.
And, yes, I still have one, and, yes, that’s it pictured below.
The kisses are close to petrified, and the cellophane is leaving little trails of disintegration dust behind… but it’s still a treasure to me.
Quote for the Week:
Enjoy This Week’s Discovery Links:
Prob a Better Way: https://www.hersheys.com/celebrate/valentines/craftdetail.aspx?id=6’
Dude Craft: http://www.dudecraft.com/ Jeff would have loved this, and we’d probably own a 3-D printer by now…
Knitting Saves a Man’s Life; https://www.yahoo.com/makers/will-knit-for-food-crafting-literally-saves-123155753715.html