Thursday, January 31, 2013

How come you taste so good?

Brown sugar - so much tastier than plain ‘ol granulated white sugar, right?

Thick. Chunky. Melded together in the bag in big gobs that I can pick out and suck on like candy.

Brown sugar makes me think of the following things, all of which are good. Really good.

Naturally, there's this.
A really good song about a really good thing.
And this...

When we would go visit my grandma she would always make me Cream of Wheat, perfect on those cold, snowy Rochester mornings. Just like your Grandma, my Grandma made the best Cream of Wheat - on the stove with tons of butter, cream (not milk) and teeth-hurting-cavity-inducing blobs of brown sugar. The smell of it would send me off of the pull-out-davenport (not couch) into the kitchen. That was some good Grandma-Lori time, over a two big bowls of the sweet stuff.

And lately, brown sugar makes me think of this:

This past Christmas my sweet next door neighbor dropped this little goody by. She is crafty, grows vegetables, makes a lot of soups, she's all earthy and pretty - and I don’t know this for a fact but I bet can probably sew. All things I am not good at.

She told me it was a brown sugar scrub that she had made (of course) and that I should use it in the bath or shower on my bod, my face, my feet, whatever.

To be honest, the little jar of goodness sat for quite some time in my shower - becoming waterlogged - me not knowing the full potential of the contents inside it.

I decided to try it out a week ago when I had some spare time in the shower. Being a mom to two young boys, the shower is pretty much the only real “me time” I get (that and regular dental checkups every six-months.)

And a lot of the time, shower-time isn’t even sacred. Do you know how many minutes have been taken off of my life because one of them has come in as my eyes are closed and I’m rinsing soap out of my hair? Sometimes they say my name and I scream - or sometimes I open my eyes and see a fuzzy body through the haze of soap and steam and I scream like Janet Lee in Psycho.

Anyway, it must have been on a weekend where I wasn’t rushing off to work and my hair wasn’t an issue - anyway - there was time to spare while bathing. I opened the little Gerber jar and too a whiff - it smelled like Grandma's house - really early in the morning in the late 1970's. Yum.

I scooped some out and rubbed it on my elbows and legs. I wish I could give you and old school scratch-and sniff sticker to put on your homeroom notebook so you could smell it on your fingers all the rest of the day.

Brown sugar, oil, and I don’t know what else is going on in there, but when rubbed on the skin it lets off a hot, tingly, sugary sensation.

And guess what? My next door neighbor has moved. I have no forwarding address. No phone number. I only wish I had tried it earlier so I could ask her HOW THE HELL DID YOU MAKE THIS RIDICULOUSLY GOOD STUFF?

I’ll use my baby food jar sparingly. And no one else is allowed to use it. Especially the two small ones that take baths in there and unknowingly scare the crap out of me.

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