My true love bought me dandelion jelly this week.
The woman who sold it to him pronounced, “It tastes like honey.”
This morning I slathered clear-colored dandelion jelly atop a piece of Ezekiel Bread covered with natural crunchy peanut butter.
Melt-in-your-mouth honey-flavored dandelion jelly, purchased by one’s true love (aka one’s husband of almost 35 years.)
I am thinking about “true loves” while cleaning the house. Don’t quibble with me over details. Of course, I ceased scrubbing and vacuuming in order to write this blog post.
Whilst cleaning in a housewifely manner, I am listening to 1950’s music on Pandora.
“Who wrote the Book of Love?” croons Sha-Na-Na.
I have no idea.
I have been partial to 1950’s music since the 1970’s when all my peers were grooving out on the Doors and Led Zeplin and Joe Cocker. That last sentence isn’t exactly true, because I also liked *some of* the aforementioned music and listened to it religiously.
But I also liked to go downstairs to the basement with a former boyfriend (who turned out not to be my true love) and listen to Honey Radio which featured songs from the 1950’s. The boyfriend tolerated this. I kid you not about Honey Radio. The acronyms were WHNN or something similar. Out of Detroit.
Let’s twist again like we did last summer…
Honey Radio did not taste like dandelion jelly, but it boogied big time.
The reason I am cleaning the house–and listening to 1950’s music–is because our two young’uns are coming home. Yes! Our daughter is coming Saturday for two weeks. She and I have tentative plans to walk a 5K on the 4th of July before picking up Christopher at the airport later that day.
We are afraid we won’t see much of Chris, as he’s coming home for one of his buddy’s weddings. He tells us his plans: camping, hiking, weddinging, and yes, maybe he’ll see us for five minutes. (Sorry, Chris! Just teasin’. The effects of the music & all.)
I used to listen to the kid’s music, too in the 1990’s and 2000’s. Just wanted to let you know I am not a *total* geek. (I’d like to thank the guy who wrote the song that made my baby fall in love with me…)
When Ki was a teenager she used to listen to rap. You remember rap, right? Well, I fell head-over-heels with at least six rap songs. One was–oh darn, can’t remember with all this bee-bop music playing on the Kindle–please hold your horses while I email my daughter and inquire.
Excuse the delay. She just wrote back. I adored: Gravel Pit by Wu Tang Clan.
I walked in the ice rink one day when all the kids were skating and Gravel Pit blared out of the loudspeakers and my heart started palpitating (just like with the 50’s music) and I started dancing and proclaiming my True Love for Gravel Pit and one of the skaters whispered, “Oh my goodness, Ki’s mom LIKES this!”
It was a moment of glory, thank you very much.
In fact, for memory’s sake, let’s cruise on over to YouTube and see if this classic still exists and turn off that 1950’s delight and listen to:
Wow. I think that is the most risqué link I’ve ever posted on Lake Superior Spirit. I may not have liked the song had I viewed this video first. (In fact did not watch it until the end. Once the kung-fu fighting started…I decided to return to the 1950’s.)
OK, OK, I admit it. I haven’t started vacuuming yet. Must depart now. Perhaps shall even attempt to create a 1980’s station on Pandora. Don’t know what happened in the 1980’s. We were too busy raisin’ babies, you know.
**Susan Dee, this blog is especially for you. Thank you for being my friend!**