I was sitting here in the kitchen with my pen and pad, thinking about the cliché, the icing on the cake, when in walks Stephano with a bag of groceries. Interrupted my thoughts yes, but then handed me my new favourite sweet treat…coffee traybake from Supervalu. I squealed like a child who just got a new puppy! These coffee traybakes are not always available — or maybe they are but we’re just not quick enough to beat the rush.
Supervalu Coffee Traybake
This all started last year when I took a sudden notion that I wanted coffee cake. You’d think it would be easy to find but no. None in the coffee shops, or the bakeries, or the supermarkets.
Then one day Stephano arrived home with these absolutely scrumptious squares of decadence. Spongy and moist, rich with the flavour of coffee. But it’s the icing on the top that makes these the most delicious cakes I’ve ever had. So creamy and melty, with little shavings of nubbly dark chocolate sprinkled on top. I can’t help but close my eyes as the textures mesh together in my mouth. Savouring every morsel.
I’ll have another one at four o’clock. Today is a good day!
It’s probably just as well that they’re not available all the time.
The monarch butterfly spreads her wings I see orange church windows Arches inside arches Delicate yet resilient Darkness and light merge
Thick black ridges separate each part Translucent to let light in To let light out Protect or to conceal? Tiny white specs Purity
Enticing the curious among us to delve beneath the wings Go behind the orange windows Is it true that you carry a spirit? We whisper We listen for a message from the spirit We don't always hear one
We leave you be monarch butterfly We leave you to fly free Monarchs behind orange windows...let us fly free Leave us be
This post is in response to Esme Salon’s Picture Prompt #6 Join in with the monthly prompt and let your imagination be a rebel.
I spent quite a while considering what I’d do with a random gift of €100. I wanted to be honest and to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Today I know exactly what I’d do with it.
We’re going to the City of Tribes tomorrow. Galway! There’s nothing quite like the buzz of Galway City on a normal day, but around Christmas time, it’s more of a sparkly fuzzy buzz. Now…throw in the Christmas markets and what do you get? An injection of the jollies and feel good vibes!
I love to support the stall holders at the markets but my Christmas budget never allows me to buy from them all, and this year is no different. I’m sure they enjoy being a part of the markets, but for most it’s their livelihood, and I’ve no doubt it can’t be easy, especially considering the times we live in. Not to mention our unpredictable weather.
So…what if €100 magically appeared from nowhere, you know…just appeared? In an envelope maybe, with a big sticker on it that says; Spend as you Wish Gloria. Sure, I’d take it with me to Galway. My purse forgets what cash looks like.
Would I spend it all on myself? Tut tut…of course not! Not all of it.
The plan is forming in my head. I’m visualising Stephano sitting at the top of the big wheel with Little Miss Ten and our Spanish exchange student, Alice. As I’m not a fan of heights, I’ll wander around all wrapped up in my winter woollies. The smell of bratwursts and mulled wine will tease my taste buds. I know I’ll buy a mulled wine. Nothing like it to warm the cockles!
As I sip on my mug of hot spiced vino, I’ll watch the smiling faces of wide-eyed children, and adults alike, as they go round and round on the colourful carousel. I took a ride on it a couple of years ago and I held on so tight that my fingers went numb. Scary!
Carol singers will have me under their spell, as their joyous choruses gently remind me of the true meaning of Christmas. I’ll stand for a while and sing softly with them. I’ll remember my dad who is gone two years, and my mother who can’t seem to accept his passing. I’ll feel sad for a moment, but then I’ll move on. I’ll smile to myself and shift my sombre thoughts to the good things in my life. It has to be that way, because dwelling on sadness might lead me to a miserable existence.
I’ll find a hat stall. Instead of adding another hat to my colossal collection, I’ll buy one for my daughter, who seems to have my hat collecting genes. And if I see an exceptionally gorgeous one, I’ll get it for myself. One new hat per year is totally acceptable.
Oh…handmade soaps. Can’t pass them. The floral and herby scents will entice me to part with my cash. And all that pretty packaging…gimmee! It will be a present for someone of course, but if I can’t think of anyone who appreciates handmade soap, I’ll keep it for myself. My mother won’t be getting it because I bought her one about 20 years ago and it’s still in her bathroom in its wrapper. Soap is for using!
What my mother appreciates better than smelly soap is chocolate. Her most favourite thing in the world. I’ll find a chocolate stall and pick out something she’ll like. Now, she wouldn’t refuse any type of chocolate, but she has her favourites; nutty, chunky, velvety. I’m sure there’ll be plenty to choose from.
When Stephano and the girls come down from their dizzy heights, I’ll take them for a bratwurst. A wee taste of Germany and we can pretend for a few minutes that we’re in Garmisch—Partenkirchen on the snowy slopes. Or perhaps we’ll share a taste of Spain with Alice, by having a dish of paella.
I’ll buy something crafty, like hand-painted ceramics and jewellery, a quirky Christmas decoration for my son and his girlfriend. I should have some money left over for some mistletoe and holly to take to my daughters house on Christmas Day. €100 doesn’t really stretch too far.
Yes, it’s lovely to dream about spending money. We do know it’s not all about the money but by spending it in the right places, we’re helping someone to live. Whether it be through a charity or supporting a small local business, you’re doing somebody a favour.
‘Mother, where’s the thingamajig for opening jars?’
‘In the knife drawer.’
I open the knife drawer, which has no knives in it. I rummage through all sorts of instruments; peelers, weird scoop things, funny scissors, whizzers and all shapes of silicone. A slip-on spout? Gadgets with attachments, blades and prongs. A spork and a chork? What happened the chopsticks?
Ah… here it is. The yoke for opening jars!
I suppose mother needs all these accoutrements. How else would she peel fruit, slice avocados, zest her lemons, measure spaghetti, spiralize veggies, flip her lids, and beat her meat? I wonder!
Petra on Pixabay
In response to Charli Mills’ 99 Word Flash Fiction Challenge. In 99 words (no more, no less), write about tools. Whose tools are they and how do they fit into the story? What kind of tools? Go where the prompt leads!
Gloria McBreen 