"Nice" Cream

 

"Nice" cream is WW-speak for a banana-and-other-ingredients substitute for ice cream.  It isn't bad.  I'm a fan of the cocoa-almond smoothie that I divide into half-cup servings and freeze.  It has bananas, frozen cherries, cocoa powder, and peanut powder in it which makes it rich and an icy analog for ice cream.



 
The other version I made was with frozen peaches, strawberries, pineapple, and mango--and bananas with just a little skim milk to aid the whirring up.  It tastes more like sherbet than ice cream.  I like them both and am trying very hard to stick close to WW.  Something has to make me feel more cheerful.  Maybe losing some weight will help...


One thing we all know makes everyone cheerful is sunshine and we had some today.  I especially liked the edge of the clouds against the blue sky.  I thought that the clouds were moving away to the east (right) but evidently the wind shifted because the clouds moved to the left (west) and they rarely do that.  Very confusing.  But we had hours of sunshine today and I did feel happier.  


I had a good trainer session and spent some time sending some unfinished manuscripts to my kindle so I can read them while I'm traveling to figure out what I need to do to finish them.  I've always felt kind of bad that I have so much unfinished writing hanging around but now that new ideas are scarce I'm happy to have them to keep me occupied and so my brain doesn't turn off completely.

06 February--Barbara Malcolm, Three Cheers for Murder. 

Friday evening Marlene’s eyes were repeatedly drawn to the door of her bookstore.  She shuffled the various orders and trade magazines on her desk behind the counter but didn’t get anything done.  She was waiting to hear a car, see a face.  A strangely dear face she’d known less than a week.  Glancing at the clock she saw it was nearly 9 pm, closing time.  She sighed and checked the door again.  Still no one.  Determined to get something, anything, done this evening she refocused her attention on the papers in front of her.  Clenching her jaw, she concentrated on matching orders with the ads she’d marked in the various magazines, talking to herself. 

“There, there’s that book that Mrs. DesFresnes has been looking for.  Send her buy order to the dealer.  Use E-mail.  It’s quicker.  Now didn’t I see that Steinbeck first edition somewhere.  Hmm, yes, here it is.  Too high for Cecilia’s budget, I’ll bet. Oh well, I’ll send a bid anyway.  Maybe we’ll get lucky.” 

The bell on the door tinkles, Marlene looked up.  Sighed.  It’s Lieutenant Graybow. 

“Oh, Len, you look so tired.  Let me just close up and I’ll make you something to eat.  Hungry?”

“Yeah.  It’s been a long day.  Archibald and I have been working nonstop on that Davis woman’s murder.”

“Any breaks yet?”

“No, not really.  We don’t know more than we did five days ago.  It’s getting pretty frustrating.”

As they’re talking Marlene was moving about the shop reshelving books, drawing the shades, switching off lights, locking the door.  “Well, let’s not think about that now.  There, I’m ready.  Let’s go upstairs.”  She held out a hand to him.  He walked toward her, took her hand, and they left the darkened storefront through the back door.  Up the dim stairs to Marlene’s apartment.

Once inside the cozy living room, she took the lieutenant’s jacket, hung it in the closet and moved toward the kitchen.  Turning, she said, smiling, “Come, sit at the table and keep me company while I get us some dinner.”

There was a bluejay at the birdbath for less than a minute today.  Not nearly enough time for me to dash for the camera but it sure was nice to see him or her.  I'm annoyed that the bluejay males and females look the same, I want to know what or who I'm looking at.
--Barbara