Sunday, March 28, 2021

"I Really Don't Remember These At All"...

Italian cookies for St. Joseph's Day...

Good "where have all the cookies gone" Monday Morning, y'all.

I remember that Saturday was one of those days of unfulfilled expectations. I remember telling myself to sleep in the lounge chair to avoid any pain trying to wake up and get out of bed.

That didn't work out so good, and it set the tone for most of the day.

Undaunted, I got out of my sweats and put on some ragged old shorts with plans to spend a good portion of the day painting. I put on one of my youth favorite tunes by Bert Kaempfert entitled, "That Happy Feeling."
( )

It was a song that I always got ridiculed by my rock n' roll snobs for liking something so, so, so Lawrence Welk like. But, the song was shared by me and my dad back when I would ride with him on errands listening the WSMB radio. The song was something we really had in common.

I didn't realize it then, but the thing that struck me as new and innovative was Kaempfert's use of the bass guitar as a lead instrument. I never heard that before and forever fell in love with Rn'R bass guitarists like Carol King, Brian Wilson, Paul McCartney and Motown's, James Jameson!

I played the song over and over again as I created another award winning fruit compoty for my wife. It even made my back pain tolerable. With the morning chores completed, I decided to get out of my ragged shorts and shirt, change into something a bit more presentable and took off for sanctuary of a fresh cup of French roast at Giddy Up.

Two hours and two cups later, I came home and changed back into my "studio rags." I spent the next two hours setting up the easel to continue on a painting I started six months ago. One hour into actually painting, my back was acting up, regardless of whether I stood up or sat down, so I decided to take a walk with the dog and Therese.

Well, checking the mailbox, which is almost a football field away is always a good excuse to get Tee out of her chair and walking.

Oh man... What a delight it was to open the mailbox. Along with love from Spectrum Cable and the electric company was a small package. Immediately, my outlook changed. My perspective of all that is good and pain free is suddenly redrawn. My posture took a whole new stance when I read the return address.

"Oh my goodness, Therese, she sent it and it has arrived already," I said.

"What? What is it?"she asked in anticipation of something wonderful.

"It's those fig cookies that the Zellars make this time of year. I think they're called, "cuccidatis".

"You gonna open them now?

"Well, of course. Sustenance for our walk, ya know? I replied.

Ripping open the Priority Mail ( bless the post office! ) we dove into the ziplock bag. As I took three of the fig cookie delights and gave two to Therese, she took one bite and asked, "You really don't remember getting these from Patty?"

"I really don't ever remember getting these. Though as good as they are I don't know how I could ever forget them."

"God, these are so good! Kinda reminds me of your Aunt Josie's "cocoons!"

"Yeh, she said, don't remind me!"

"Okay, I promise not to eat them all like I did to her cocoons!"

Stories about deadlines, Christmas tins full of Aunt Jo's cookies, and the late night munchies are stuff of Bensen/ LaPorte legends!

This morning, I had my last two cookies and left Tee with the balance next to her morning fruit extravaganza.

I'm now off to Giddy Up before I have a change of heart!

First cup!

Copyright 2021/Ben Bensen III

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