Ice Cream - Oh For Some Tutti Frutti!

This time last week we were enjoying warm sunshine in Kirkcudbright. We sat by the harbour car park enjoying every miniature mouthful of our Cream O’ Galloway vanilla and raspberry ripple on our tiny, wooden spatula-like spoons. It is a fine, delicious ice cream, made locally in Gatehouse of Fleet. I was sure the tubs were smaller, but it might just be me. Things seem to shrink as I get older, everything except my body. The tubs were a perfect size for planting seeds in, I thought, popping the empties into the bin. It wasn’t practical to keep them, but I did say we could visit the factory and maybe they’d give me some. We didn’t put it to the test.

Ice cream was a Sunday afternoon treat when I was little. Mum and Dad would take me to Platt Fields to play and I clearly remember having a cornet in one hand and my doll, Sheila, named after my mum, in the other. Sometimes it would be a family outing, us three with both sets of grandparents, and whoever else tagging along. The ladies had cornets, the men had wafers and it was always Wall’s. We left Manchester for Lancaster when I was four, or nearly four, where Williamson Park offered even more fun with a hill to roll down and a ‘Wall’s’ sign at the café. Those blissful summer Sundays, I’m blessed with happy memories.

My grandchildren know I have ice lollies and ice cream in good supply in the freezer – something we didn’t have when I was little – and they only need to ask. Some of the ice cream boxes have other things in, like home-made chilli or Bolognese, barbecue chicken wings, that’s me recycling again.  Strawberries are abundant right now and a favourite desert with the children and adults. I only buy them in the summer but we’ll have them day after day. I ask the grandchildren if they would like cream or ice cream and usually get a reply for both, please. Of course, they can have both.  Sunday afternoons or Mondays after school, all four together for tea, with ice cream and sometimes cake, I hope memories are being made that they will remember with fondness in years to come.

If anyone knows where I can buy Tutti Frutti ice cream, please tell me. Carte D’or don’t seem to make it anymore. Thanks in advance.

I found this,

Bleezer’s Ice Cream

I am Ebenezer Bleezer,
I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE,
there are flavors in my freezer
you have never seen before,
twenty-eight divine creations
too delicious to resist,
why not do yourself a favor,
try the flavors on my list:

COCOA MOCHA MACARONI
TAPIOCA SMOKED BALONEY
CHECKERBERRY CHEDDAR CHEW
CHICKEN CHERRY HONEYDEW
TUTTI-FRUTTI STEWED TOMATO
TUNA TACO BAKED POTATO
LOBSTER LITCHI LIMA BEAN
MOZZARELLA MANGOSTEEN
ALMOND HAM MERINGUE SALAMI
YAM ANCHOVY PRUNE PASTRAMI
SASSAFRAS SOUVLAKI HASH
SUKIYAKI SUCCOTASH
BUTTER BRICKLE PEPPER PICKLE
POMEGRANATE PUMPERNICKEL
PEACH PIMENTO PIZZA PLUM
PEANUT PUMPKIN BUBBLEGUM
BROCCOLI BANANA BLUSTER
CHOCOLATE CHOP SUEY CLUSTER
AVOCADO BRUSSELS SPROUT
PERIWINKLE SAUERKRAUT
COTTON CANDY CARROT CUSTARD
CAULIFLOWER COLA MUSTARD
ONION DUMPLING DOUBLE DIP
TURNIP TRUFFLE TRIPLE FLIP
GARLIC GUMBO GRAVY GUAVA
LENTIL LEMON LIVER LAVA
ORANGE OLIVE BAGEL BEET
WATERMELON WAFFLE WHEAT

I am Ebenezer Bleezer,
I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE,
taste a flavor from my freezer,
you will surely ask for more.

                                                      Jack Prelutsky


Thanks for reading, stay safe, Pam x

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Boxes

   I use boxes of all shapes and materials as a means of storing things. Sewing items are kept in large plastic stacking boxes, buttons are kept in plastic sweet boxes (I had a friend who worked in a sweet shop), zips are stored on a box that once contained a gas mask! If an item comes in a box then I always try and visualise a new use for the said box. Sometimes a use comes to mind straight away- otherwise I keep the box until a use presents itself .

   When I purchase footwear I always ask for the box as they are an ideal size for storing upright dressmaking patterns or DVDs. I feel rather guilty if I have to dispose of a large box...but even then if it's very large I'll cut it into pieces and keep some for Don to keep pieces of jigsaw on them. The sides of the garage are ' lined ' with a large piece so that I can open the car door without damaging it. (reminds me I need a new piece sometime...).

   On the bookcase I have two grand storage boxes devised from one larger box that contained an oil filled radiator where I stand up a collection of OS maps. Now here I might add that I've always intended to cover the storage with fablon  or nice paper, but I've never got round to it.

   Why only a couple of days ago a friend gave me a portable alarm , and since I already have one , I required a wee box to keep the bits in. Cue the hall cupboard where such boxes lurk...and " hey presto"...a box of just the correct size (another reminder ...I need to label it so I know what it contains).

   Of course, just occasionally, a mystery box turns up - some gift -contents unknown - usually around Christmas time. The expectation is intriguing, but I always resist the temptation to look before the due date and store the box as near to my miniature Christmas tree as I can. So on the day I carefully open it and not only do I cherish the gift within, but yes , I cherish the box too.

   Members of our group know that I have an archive of pieces that I wrote many years ago and they are treasured , having survived all these years in a box -- a box that once contained a gift given to me by a friend of my Dad's.  This gift was a dressing table set for my 16th birthday. Well, the gift no longer survives....but the box does. Quite how it's come with me through the years from one end of the country to the other, and back again twice , I'm not sure....but it has. I'm really grateful for that, as it's a link to my past. A past that was cleared out by my parents when I left home .....

   Anyway I guess I'm a recycler of boxes. They keep things in order. Keep things neat. Keep them handy. Keep them safe. Keep secrets at Christmas.....

   The piece I have for you this week was written in 2014. I was waiting at the bus stop in Cleveleys and a wee lad was pestering his Mum as to the contents of the box she was carrying.

At The Bus Stop

'What's in the box, Mum?'

"You'll have to wait and see"

'What's in the box,Mum.

Is it something nice for me ?'

'What's in the box,Mum -

Whatever can it be?'

What's in the box , Mum.

Is it something nice for tea ?'

'What's in the box, Mum ?'

"Oh you do annoy me!"

'What's in the box ,Mum-

Mum-Mum....?'

"Here comes the bus now,son-

You'll see when we get home."

Thanks for reading this week-  ( reminder - I need to sellotape the corners of the old box containing my poems ....)

                           

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IT’S A MACRO / MICRO THING.

I find that poetry changes the way in which you see the world; the more you write, read and engage with poetry, the more you notice. Eyes, once immature and full of glances, learn to focus, to be steady and to be patient. Like the zoom lens on a camera, life-size is magnified. Thought, rather than being merely an okra seed, becomes a coiled woodlouse; an armoured marble; an ammonite carved into snakestone, complete with the legend of Saint Hilda.

In poetry, it is not the form or the size of the poem that determines whether it could be classified as large or small, but rather it is the subject, the thought, or the idea contained within the parameters of the form. For example, the haiku is small (with  its seventeen syllables), yet its subject is often thought, traditionally, to be great – starting with a macro view of the world and then becoming more specific (the micro view).

Often, within my own poetry, I find myself using this macro/micro technique – beginning with a large image and then zooming in on a smaller detail. It is these little, usually unnoticed, observations that create the depth and prevent the poem from being merely a backdrop. You want to surprise the reader: tell them something new, give them a different view of the world.

Recycling

Compost and soot from allotment bonfires

is forked into the freshly dug soil.

Old wardrobes and skirting boards

are cut to make raised beds.

A rusty swing frame is draped with green netting –

ready for when the runner beans start to climb.

Thank you for reading,
Lara

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