I Love France -- Ice Cream Sundaes

This week, I'm participating in the I Love France meme that is sponsored by Words and Peace.
Because I'm hungry, since my friend Sheila convinced me to start keeping track of my calories on an App, I'm sharing with you a picture of me eating an ice cream sundae in France.
Nobody does ice cream sundaes like the French. It's not just a sundae; it's a production.

The glass is a tall parfait glass with carefully placed layers of ice cream and chocolate. No one asks if you'd like whipped cream, they just give it to you. And they include a wedge of wafer sticking out from the top.
I guess that's the thing about the French; they know how to do food. One of the many (main) reasons we love them.
This photo was taken in Aix end Provence about 10 years ago.

Then and Now

The problem with kids and the good things about kids is that they grow up. One year we visit Florida and they are busy building sand castles or burying each other or collecting coquina shells. That's Grace looking at the camera. Anna has her back to the camera and Maggie is the smiling red head. Tucker is tiptoeing along the sand in the background.

The next time we visit, they're all grown up and awkward with each other. They complain before being dragged together, but once they're all there, a niche opens and they begin to talk.

Plus, there's always ice cream to draw them together.
And it helps to have a good-natured 11-year-old to act as comic relief. Since he was little, Patrick has been the one that drew the older kids together, from the time he was one-year-old and we visited during the 2000 election recount. The kids would ask him, "Who's going to win, Patrick, Bush or Gore?" Little Patrick, who was just learning to speak would make a proclamation and the other kids would fall about laughing, no matter who he tagged as the winner.

Family Night Rides Again

With the temperature in the mid-80s rather than the mid-90s, we decided that a bike ride would be a perfect family night.
It was a little complicated with five people and five bikes. We ended up taking two cars because the bike carrier holds three bikes, so we put the top down on the convertible and stuck two bikes in the back of it. Of course, one of our bikes was missing because Tucker had ridden it to a friend's house and left it where it was locked in a garage. We borrowed a bike from Earl's sister's husband.
Spencer was focused on getting family night over with. "How many miles?" he asked.
Eleven there, eleven back with ice cream in between, I told him.
And he took off. The bike trail runs from Johnstown to Granville. The trail is shared with walkers and runners and crosses several roads, most of them not too busy.
As we started off, we came to a wooden bridge. A squirrel ran onto the bridge at the same time Spencer rode onto it. The bike scared him and he scurried across Spencer's path then ran and dove off the edge, hopefully onto a tree.
That was about the last we saw of Spencer as he decided to ride ahead. He later told us he managed the whole 11 miles in 35 minutes. He turned around and came back to find us since he didn't know where the ice cream shop was.
The path goes through woods and farm fields. It was full of strong odors, like skunk and cow manure. It also had butterflies and birdsong. The woods were protecting and ominous. The fields full of corn that stretched as high as an elephant's eye.
Tucker's bike has issues. Earl says it's because he throws it on the ground when he finishes using it. I say they should have put a kick stand on it if they didn't want kids throwing it to the ground. Nevertheless, he would be riding and the chain would just pop off and he would pedal going nowhere until it reattached.
I found this hilarious. Him, not so much.
Some swear words were thrown around when we left the flat path of the trail to climb the hill up to Granville. It's a steep hill and I called "every man for himself" before we got to it.
Earl and I rode on the street, but the kids all headed for the sidewalk, which meant they couldn't pass each other so were limited to the speed of the person in front of them. Anyway, they all made it to the top without stopping to push their bikes, which is more than I could say for myself the first time I did it.
The ice cream parlor in Granville served up floats and milk shakes that helped get us the 11 miles back to the cars.

This guy fed ice cream to his dogs. He made them take turns and share a spoon. He used a different spoon and somehow thought that was sanitary, even though they were all eating from the same bowl. Ick.
After ice cream, Tucker needed a grilled cheese.
Grace and I headed back to the trail while he waited for his food. We knew we would be slower than the guys. We rode steady for a total 64-minute ride on the way back, along with a few stops for photos. I figure less than a 6-minute mile isn't bad for us.
The boys stayed at the ice cream parlour to eat the grilled cheese sandwich then took off at a pace that might have done the peloton on the Tour de France proud. They shoulted a hello and Spencer's red shirt billowed in the wind as they passed and rode toward the lowering sun.

The sun was setting as we finished at the grain mill in Johnstown.
We were all pretty tired when we got home, except Spencer who of course ventured out to "hang" with his friends at "the turf" which is the high school football field.

Family Night Fiasco

I declared Sunday nights as family nights this summer. After all, Grace is getting ready to leave for college and the boys hang out with their friends most nights of the week. I wasn't expecting a night with the Walton family, but apparently, my expectations were a little high.
We started with a family dinner of chicken and vegetables on the grill. Normally, it would have been shish kebab, but we skipped the sticks. So with a bowl of grilled chicken and a bowl overflowing with zucchini, summer squash, tomatoes, mushrooms, onions and carrots on the table, Tucker declared himself not hungry and refused to eat. He sipped on a glass of water and pondered whether he could add mint syrup to it. I vetoed that idea since he wasn't even eating dinner. He informed me he didn't like shish kebab. What's not to like about chicken? And I know he eats carrots. I didn't argue though, just made him turn forward and get his elbows off the table. He had spent the night at a friend's house so I wrote off his bad behavior to tiredness.His silence and refusal to eat as he sat sullenly at the table pulled a wet blanket over the beginning of family night.
After dinner, we chose a game to play. Since it was father's day, we let Earl choose poker. It wasn't Texas hold em, but five card draw and five card stud with a few hands of black jack thrown in. I couldn't find the poker chips, so used these colorful plastic tokens that the kids sorted when they were little. We started with 25 and I quickly lost all of mine, so we added some more.
As Tucker won a few hands, his mood improved. As Grace lost every hand, she grew morose.
"Why can't we play euchre?" she asked. She listed other card games she would be willing to play -- Egyptian ratscrew, spoons. To no avail.
The poker continued. She said it didn't bother her to lose, she just hated that it all seemed to be about the luck of the cards instead of skill. I suppose the skill is a little more subtle than in a card game like euchre.
As they got into the game, the guys put on their poker faces. Some more successful than others.
Finally, the pain of the poker game finished and we took up Spencer's suggestion to walk downtown for ice cream. Of course, I told Tucker he couldn't have any since he hadn't eaten dinner. He wanted to stay on the couch and watch TV. Nope. I told him he had to come along. He spent several minutes explaining in a condescending voice why this was not logical, stupid even. But since I was walking to the ice cream store and not planning to get any ice cream, I was not swayed by his arguments.
Thus began the three-quarter mile walk to the ice cream shop, where the line on this sweltering father's day was out the door. Tucker had a gift certificate to the store and he had walked with Earl part of the way, so I knew that the two of them had hatched a plan that allowed him to buy the ice cream himself and eat it. I decided not to fuss about it. The point wasn't about who would pay; it was about eating healthier. At 14, those points get lost in the fog of adolescence.
Grace came out with a waffle cone with a dip of chocolate and mint. Spencer had a trio, three small scoops of different flavors. He'd ordered Buckeye and Belgian chocolate then "I panicked," he admitted. The pressure of ordering ice cream with the long line waiting behind him made him choose strawberry as his third scoop. He didn't regret it, he said. Earl came out with a scoop of goat cheese and sour cherry. Hmmm. My favorite ice cream from this shop that specializes in strange flavors like salty caramel and thai chili.
When we got home, we decided to choose a "movie on demand." That's a movie that is out on video, but when we order it from home, the cost goes on our cable bill. Grace and Spencer voted for Youth in Revolt while Tucker pushed for The Blind Side. We erred in the favor of the majority. Spencer kept saying, "I thought it would be funnier." It was pretty raunchy with pictures of sexual positions floating out of books and sex tips between 16-year-olds. Tucker headed to the basement. I decided to abandon family night and Grace was right behind me. Earl and Spencer made it through the end of the movie. I'm glad it only cost $4.99 for that mistake.
Next week, we'll try family night again. Maybe I'll order pizza. Everyone likes that. Now to come up with a game everyone can agree on.