How Sweet The Memories

It is the fourth day of my sugar detox and right on schedule, I am hungry enough to eat a horse without unsaddling it first.

Right now my sugar-addicted brain is trying to convince me that ice cream is a health food. I am almost buying it. After all, ice cream has protein from milk, and it has fruit—at least some do (Cherry Garcia and Chunky Monkey). And some types have nuts. Nuts are good for you aren’t they?

Actually, ice cream is one of my favorite foods. Don’t get me wrong, I like all kinds of food—even some that are good for you. But ice cream holds a special place in my heart.

Baskin Robbins was where I fell in love for the first time. It was Mint Chocolate Chip. He was the first ice cream I ever met that wasn’t one dimensional. He had depth and personality. He was sweet, rich and just a little fresh. He swept me off my feet.

Over the years I have dallied with many different ice creams. I have swooned over cartons with foreign-sounding names. I have toyed with specialty ice creams so thick they had their own gravitational pull. I spent a blissful summer ain a out-of-the-way shop sampling ice creams made with so much liquor that they had a hard time staying frozen.

I’ve loved other frozen treats in my time—frozen yogurt, gelato, sorbet—but, through it all, Baskin Robbins’ Mint Chocolate Chip has remained my favorite sweet treat. I guess you just never forget your first love.

Her First Mistake

It was a dark and stormy night…

Wait. Let’s start the story a few days earlier on a bright and sunny day. I was headed up the highway to do a little grocery shopping and suddenly I heard a loud ping and the car died. I had just enough momentum to carry me across three lanes of traffic to the side of the road where I sat until my heart rate settled enough for me to call AAA.

I knew the car wasn’t going anywhere under its own power so I had it towed to Denver to be repaired and then rented a car.

That was when I made my first mistake.

As I said, it was a bright and sunny day. The weather reports were not predicting snow in Denver for the next week so I didn’t think about needing a four-wheel-drive car. All I thought about was getting my dad to an important doctor’s appointment in Denver so I got a car that would hold his massive walker. My father has Parkinson’s Disease and uses a specialized walker about the size of a small Jeep.

Anyway I ended up with a Chevy HHR a flex-fuel wagon that is, unfortunately, rear-wheel drive. I do not know why American manufacturers continue to make rear-wheel-drive cars, but that is a rant that will have to wait for another day.

On the day of the appointment the weather forecasters predicted the storm to come in late in the day so I hoped we would be able to beat the snow home. No such luck. The snow hit just as we were leaving the doctor’s office and heading west.

That was when I made my second mistake.

The highway was getting bad so I made a quick decision to go up Bear Creek Canyon road. True, it is a narrow, twisty, two-lane highway, but it usually is more protected from the weather than the major highway is. Not this time. The canyon was snowy and icy all the way up. I knew that if I hit my brakes even once on all those curves I would end up in the ditch (or, worse, in the creek) so I just kept going hoping to make it to Evergreen—which I did. Unfortunately the weather was worse in Evergreen and we were running out of daylight. My gut told me to call some friends and try to find a room for the night, but I didn’t listen.

That was when I made my last mistake.

The roads heading for the highway hadn’t been plowed and I knew I was in trouble but I kept going and, somehow, made it to a parking area just off the highway that skiers use when they are sharing rides. I just made it into the lot and got stuck in, maybe, three inches of snow. We called home for help and our friend Karen (now known around our house as Saint Karen) came to our rescue.

As we sat in that parking lot waiting and watching all the skiers with their cars, trucks and SUVs drive off to their warm homes I reflected on my mistakes and was thankful that the people around me thought I was a tourist and not a local who was stupid enough to rent a rear-wheel-drive car in the middle of the winter. I was also thankful for having friends who care enough to rescue me from the effects of my stupidity.

And that is never a mistake.

P.S. If you are wondering about the title of the blog I recommend you listen to Lyle Lovett’s, “Her First Mistake”. OK, it has nothing to do with this situation, but it’s a really good song.