Neither Tom nor I would buy vanilla ice cream unless it was a condiment for a fruit pie. I came home from having lunch with friends in Ogden and was hoping for Chocolate Almond or even Mint Chocolate Chip and, preferably, Rocky Road.
There it was: Vanilla. So disappointing. Even as a second or third choice, I wasn't interested in vanilla ice cream, unless I could bury it in hot fudge topping. There is no hot fudge.
I think Sam and Sarah brought this Vanilla into the house last week for the birthday celebrations. It was a condiment for cake.
Why am I capitalizing ice cream flavors?
We have spent a few idyllic days in Bear Lake which was hidden behind smoky air. I love to come out of Logan Canyon for that first view of the lake. Could not see it. The west is filled with smoke from various fires.
But we could see the flock of wild turkeys outside of Jaggi's cabin along with their babies. And we sat on the deck and watched golfers at hole number nine.
Sitting for hours on a lonely beach to the south, we remembered who we were before we disappeared into the internet.
I read two wonderful novels.
When Tom gets home, we will go out for ice cream cones. He will have Butter Pecan and I will have Chocolate Chip. Ice cream. It's soul food.
But not Vanilla.