"Watch it Wiggle..." I'd Rather Not.

Oh folks.

As a result of the fun and success of yesterday, sitting outside on the warm patio with family, the awesome ham, the yummy potatoes, the delicious asparagus, my windows that sparkle, the floors I dusted by hand with a cloth, and my house that is spring clean, I am tired, tired, tired. So, this morning I thought I’d extend my long weekend, at least as far as blog posting goes, because the idea of conjuring up a creative post made my brain hurt. But the esteemed JP at Where Sky Meets Ground, bailed me out yet again, by offering up the “It’s like we are Soul Mates” Award, which gave me food for thought, if you will.



This jumping off place helped because the rules for this little prize are to make up something (preferably inoffensive) about the people you send it to, and to link to the people you gave it to and link back to the original award post, which is right about here.

But before I pass it on, you have to read what JP wrote about me, because in his creativity it seems as if he peered inside and exposed a little horror from my childhood soul--his fantasy sounded so much like a cheerful tease from my brother, that I hiccuped a bit as I read:

“Liza from Middle Passages has an irrational fear of green jelly beans. To keep her fear in check, every Easter and Christmas she makes a wonderful green jelly bean tart which all her friends rave about.”

OK, so here is the thing. JP was off by one letter. Green jelly beans, well, I consider them marginal, but green Jello? I hate it.

My mother, generally an accomplished cook, had a minor failing in the kitchen, in that she liked all thing gelatinous, including aspic (which I call "asp-yick" and you can use your imagination to come up with another, rhyming and less suitable-for-PG-audiences description), and Jello. To this day, the thought of green Jello makes me wrinkle up my nose. All these years later, it remains toward the top of the list as one of my most irrational, stomach churning, feed-it-to-the-dog-but-we-didn't-have-one-so-deposit-it-into-your-napkin dinner dilemmas. For crying out loud, I even eat Brussels sprouts now if I have to. But green Jello? Shoot me now.

This aversion began way back, when, in some Good Housekeeping 1960’s nightmare, Mom began slicing squares of the vile stuff that she had “enhanced” via canned pear halves suspended in the middle, and plopping them onto lettuce leaves. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’d slather a dollop of mayonnaise on top of each serving and have the nerve to call the wiggling mess a salad. Can you imagine? And in our house, we had to try EVERYTHING before we were excused and I am so. not. a. green. Jello. girl. Let's just say that there were more than a few table-leg kicking late nights in my past.

Therefore JP, just so you understand what a good job you did, um, embellishing, let me tell you this. If a tart made from anything resembling the green slime showed up on my table, or any other table I happen to be sitting at, I'm quite clear that there would be no solution other than to make sure my elbow slipped--as in: “Oh, dear, did I do that?”

Now that we have aired that topic, I’d like to pass this award to:

Bridget at JB Chicoine Aspiring Novelist and JB Chicoine Unsupervised and at Large. Bridget fell out of a tree house when she was ten and broke both her wrists. While convalescing, she learned how to paint by holding the brush in her teeth. Recently she was downhill skiing as a part of the US Ski Team, when she broke her wrists again. She is currently editing her first novel by typing with her toes.

Tricia from Talespinning. Tricia swims two miles in the ocean every day, regardless of the weather, tide or wave-height, and has an unspoken desire to become a mermaid. Oh, and don’t tell anyone, but once long ago she saved one (a mermaid, I mean) that had beached herself on a sandbar off the coast of California.

Tabitha at Through My Eyes. Tabitha has taken a month off from posting on her blog to work on her memoir, but really she is living in a tent on an uninhabited portion of Lizard Island on the Great Barrier Reef, where bathing suits are optional.

Carol at Carol’s Prints. Carol decided that yoga was too dull. She has enrolled in tap dancing class and has discovered she’s a prodigy. She’ll have a starring role in the spring dance recital and has been awarded a place in the world’s most exclusive dance company. She will be going on tour starting next month.

Thanks JP for thinking of me again! Once more your timing was impeccable. How do you do that anyway?

What is your worst childhood food nightmare?