One Hot Chocolate Please

So it's Christmas time and at work we have a lot of our patients drop us off goodies. Candied nuts, Purdy's Chocolates, Roger's Chocolates, Poppycock( ya heard me) and chocolate truffles.
Mm mm, truffles.
So I sampled a morsel of truffle today, delicious and dusted with cocoa powder, which takes away from the yumminess but won't deter me from devouring many many many of these treats.
But the cocoa got me thinking about being a kid again in our house in the winter and having a nice delicious hot chocolate, piping hot with marshmallows and sprinkles and all the love in a cup that you'd ever need.

Except my childhood cocoa dreams are just that. Dreams. Because in our house we never had marshmallows cause we weren't allowed them, and sprinkles were unheard of.
And the hot chocolate was made with Fry's Cocoa powder and dehydrated milk.
That's right. Mmmm. (pause to let sarcasm linger)

We never had any of that Bisquick nonsense or the Carnation Deliciousness(that's what it's called right?) We had lumpy gross tasting hot chocolate that congealed in your stomach. I think some of it is still in there actually. Add water and stir were the directions but no matter how hard you stirred that milk never dissolved and no matter how much cocoa powder you added it was never sweet enough. But at least it was healthy? Or building character or something.

All this and much more was acquired at Famous Foods, a bulk food store in Vancouver.

Every year, once a year, special occasions only, we'd make the trip from Whistler to Vancouver. The drive would take anywhere from 2 hours to 4, depending on how many times I had to stop to pee. The trip was designed to stock up on stuff we needed for school, the pantry or outdoors clothes. Therefore we had 3 main stops. Mountain Equipment Co-op (been a member since I was 2!), Famous Foods, IKEA(3 cheers for the ball room!). Sometimes we'd hit up the aquarium on the way home if we felt like it.
Anyway, all I remember about Famous Foods is that the food wasn't packaged like it was in normal stores. all bright and cheerful. These were all in plain clear plastic, bulk, boring, blah. It did have 17 different kinds of chocolate chips though, this aisle you'd usually find me drooling in. But what did Dad get? Carob chips. Yaaaaaaay. So yummy those are.
We ate very healthy growing up. Dad made homemade granola. We'd have countless bowls of split pea soup with the countless bags of split peas we bought at FF. There was so many oatmeal raisin cookies. The buckwheat/wholewheat pancakes were endless, all of the ingredients bought at Famous Foods. Dad still shops there, in fact all trips are centered and timed around that place.
Ironically, now that I'm a grown up, or like to call myself one, I have cravings for nothing but, yup, you guessed it...dad's homemade granola, the oatmeal raisin cookies, the split pea soup, the pancakes. Cause it's a reminder of home and the memories of the special trips to the big city, the fighting for space in the backseat with your sisters.The dinners out to Trolls for fish and chips in Horseshoe Bay which deserve their own blog entry.
But I will never, ever, not once, desire a Fry's cocoa  hot chocolate with powdered milk.



Death and all his friends

I met her twice. Through a friend of a friend at that friends' birthday party and then we became facebook friends and that's how I learned she had died.
I can't tell you her middle name, her favorite color or type of food she preferred. I remember the night I met her and her partner and thinking how lovely they both were and how much we had alike. You know when you meet those people and you just click no matter who you are with or what you believe in? And I never saw her face again.

And then her heart stopped. And it never started again and although I didn't know her well it gets me to stop and think for a minute about how the wrong people get chosen by death all the time.
Because I think about her wife and her kids-her son and daughter, her little boy and girl who were just at the Santa Parade dreaming about presents under the tree and warm gooey cookies from the oven and snuggles from their two mommies. I hurt for their hurt and their loss and for my friends loss and heartache. The sudden. The shock. The 'I'm sorry for your loss' like we want to take some responsibility for this problem we can't fix. We want to help.
Death is there. All the time. And sometimes, he shows his face.
When it comes to death there are no words that can fix. The tightest hug won't heal the wound that ripped open your chest when you heard the news, the one that now swallows your tears that just won't stop.
But it's the comfort of the loved ones still here and the little snuggles from your kids and the memories and laughter from still fresh hours ago.
And you have to know it's okay to laugh. It's okay to remember those giggle fits and happy memories because that is what will get you through this.
So you make sure to appreciate the people around you and tell them you love them and you wake up every goddamn morning and you realize how lucky you are and you're thankful for what you have, no matter how little or big it is, or who or what is in your life.

And you appreciate that you had the pleasure of knowing her at all.