August 5

As soon as she heard my feet on the stairs this morning, Abby ambushed me and asked if we could go to The Dairy today. It's the local hot (cold?) spot for soft serve ice cream. I have no idea what prompted the request since we rarely go there, but after mulling my own childhood Jimmie Cone memories (uhm, a mountain of soft serve smothered in jimmies --or sprinkles, for the non-initiated? YES!) and how sad it would be if I denied her the chance to soak in her own bath of ice creamy nostalgia in 20 years, I said okay. So out we went this afternoon.

Pineapple/vanilla for me, chocolate/orange for Abby, and chocolate/strawberry for Isaac and Brady. (Well, and Brady's strawberry for me, since he promptly told me it was yucky and refused to take another lick of the cone until the offending stuff was removed.)

It was pretty good, I have to say. Not the same, but still pretty good stuff served up in a town 3,000 miles from where my roots were originally planted. And of course, it gave me the chance to think of and talk about my childhood a little. It's a blessing to look back, remember, and share with the ones I love most. (And if there happens to be dessert involved, it's really doubly sweet.)