I remember watching Lucy walk over to Ethel’s apartment to borrow a cup of sugar. And visa versa.

I remember when DJ Tanner talked on the phone with Kimmy Gibbler.

I remember playing baseball in the street.

I remember when neighbors actually spoke to one another.

I remember when a new family moved into the neighborhood, the locals would trek across their lawns, ring the doorbell, introduce themselves, welcome the newest residents, and drop off some baked goodies - whether it be a loaf of bread, or a plate of cookies. And it actually didn’t matter what form of food the calories were melded into, what mattered was the act of the offering.

And that was it.

They were now neighbors.

And - They were friends.

It didn’t matter who was a republican and who was a democrat.

And, all the politics in the world... wouldn’t stop a neighbor from helping a neighbor in need. 

Someone would always be there to shovel the snow for the people nearby them. 

Someone would always have time, or desire, to organize that infamous summer block party. 

And at Christmas time, there’d always be that neighbor who wanted to host a cookie exchange - or even - set up matching light-up plastic soldiers lining the entire block.

But does any of that matter anymore?

Does anybody still do any of these things?

Do you even talk with your neighbors?


I do. 

But I do know it's becoming increasingly rare. With our phones in our hands, and our heads bent down, we can’t even see our neighbors, let alone talk with them, through that black and desolate screen.

So, over time, with less one-on-one communication, we have now ended up in the situation we currently find ourselves: Anger. Hate. Violence. Incivility. And worse.

And, no I’m not blaming the smart phone for all our worldly problems.

I’m blaming us.

WE - are bigger than a phone. WE - are bigger than the internet. WE - are bigger than social media.

But - WE - have forgotten all this.

In this crazy covid world, we have forgotten that humanity is more important than how many likes we get. That communication isn’t just one directional. And that the world isn’t one size fits all. 

We have even forgotten how to speak simply with one another. And how to speak civilly with one another.

And without communication with another - we are no longer unified.

Why does a couple, or a union, divorce? Separate, or break up? Why does a relationship end?

Is it because they no longer love one another? They can no longer agree? They’re not on the same page? They have different aspirations and life goals? They feel anger and hostility toward each other? They cannot even communicate with each other any longer? They are disgusted with one another and cannot stand the sight of the other? Maybe, maybe all of the above… but maybe it’s the simple fact that they no longer want to share a life together. After all, love cannot be forced. 

So, what happens when we, as a nation, no longer agree with another?

What happens when we no longer love our neighbors?

When we cannot agree on the definition of words?

We are basically speaking different languages at that point, right?

Speaking different languages is not always a problem. There are people who speak different languages all over the world, and they all don’t disagree with and hate one another.

It’s the actions one takes that lead to agreement or disagreement. Civility or incivility. A smile and a handshake go a long way, especially if two people standing before each other do not understand the words coming out of their mouths.

But what happens when two people who do speak the same langage stand before each other, attempting communication, and one word means something to one of them, and the same word then means something else - something completely different - to the other? The meaning being contradictory, the opposite of intention… leading to anger, or violence over perceived meaning?

Are we in the denial phase of breaking up our relationship in this country right now?

I don’t know… maybe we are well past denial at this point. Maybe we’re well engulfed in the anger phase by now?

Yes, that must be it. Because all I see is anger and hostility - on the news anyway.

In real life, it’s a completely different story. 

In real life, I see the sun rise. I see people walking on the beach… passing each other and smiling. I see myself shopping in the grocery store. And real people being real nice to one another. 

I even still see neighbors helping neighbors.

Could it be that the news and media paints a different picture of real life? Are we in denial of what’s really happening, or is what’s really happening just happening differently in different locales? Is one person’s perception of the same matter differently perceived by the other? Can we even wrap our heads around that question? Yes, maybe that’s it. What’s happening online really is happening, but some people can’t see it? And maybe some people see the same thing but completely differently.

Who knows? But, either way, I still see us falling.

My perception is I see the country falling apart. As some are still baking cookies for one another, others are beating people in the streets. Bloody and bruised. Chocolate chips and cinnamon rolls. Hatred and anger. Lemonade stands and block parties. Fires and bear spray.

And, due to all this disagreement we have with each other - Is it time we broke up with one another?

No. I argue, No.

It’s not time.

We have a long road ahead. With each other.

Side by side.

Agree and disagree.

We should not divorce.

We have reconcilable differences.

We have differences - yes. But they are NOT irreconcilable.

In any good, healthy, solid, and long term relationship - continuous work is required.

We have work to do, indeed.

But, that work must be together. Not apart. Not separate. Not under disunion. Not under false pretence. And not under a guise of fake mediation. 

We MUST work hard at living as good neighbors to one another. We MUST be civil. We MUST be noble. And true. And kind. And do it all for nothing in return. When did everything become about what you will get out of it? When did actions become simply about the reaction? And nothing more? After all, every time Lucy borrowed a cup of sugar, did she ever repay it?

When did we start not dropping off a plate of cookies when a new neighbor moved in next door? Expecting nothing in return, except maybe a smile. A handshake. An introduction. A civil conversation? 

A long, long time ago, I guess.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. These cookies... they don't have to be homemade. They don’t have to be the fancy recipe straight from your Grandma’s kitchen. They don’t have to be gourmet.

These cookies could be a plastic box of store-bought chocolate chip cookies, sealed with a bar code and priced at $3.99 for a box of twelve from the Publix down the road.

But, here’s an even bigger secret. You don’t even need to bring cookies with you. You just need to say hello.

No, you see - It’s not the cookies we have forgotten, and it’s not that we cannot afford $3.99 with endless bills to pay, with worries over rent and healthcare. It’s the act of walking next door that we have truly and utterly and sadly forgotten and completely eliminated from our lives. The act of crossing the lawn, getting shoes wet from the morning dew on the blades of cut grass. Walking up the front lawn, climbing the porch, and ringing that gosh darn effing door bell - with good intention in our heart.

Cookies not included.

Cookies not needed.

Just a Hello.

Just a Welcome to the neighborhood.

Just simplicity.

We have definitely forgotten this simple act.

And who am I to even write about it? I have forgotten it too. Well, I haven’t forgotten. I do THINK of it when someone new moves in. But that’s about it. I THINK. I don’t ACT on it. After all, who has time for all that, right?

I’m the busiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I am living my very best life. But I am NOT partaking in dropping cookies at people’s doorsteps. And maybe that’s where this whole thing has gone wrong. Right freaking there.

I am truly happy. Extremely happy. Immensely happy. I am busy. I work hard. I love my family and friends. But when’s the last time I welcomed a new neighbor? I have no freaking idea.

I must give myself some credit though where credit is due. This Christmas, my husband and I made hundreds of cookies - piles and piles of cookies. The proof is on my Youtube Channel if you don’t believe me. And I did deliver cookies to neighbors and strangers alike. But this is simply one small act.

And today, I made a double batch of cookies for work tomorrow. A coworker's last day. For a ‘party’ and for my best wishes to send this person onto their next adventure in life. 

One other small act.

These little acts. They do add up. They become our life. And our lives. If we are not interacting with one another regularly, in real life, then how can we have a civil relationship with each other in real life?

We need to say hello. We need to get to know one another. We need to have a relationship, other than by our avatars and screen names. Outside of the computers and not reflected through our phone screens. Let’s toss aside our usernames, and use our real freaking names.

So, is it time we broke up? Should we be getting a divorce?

I still say NO.

Now is not the time to call it quits. 

We have still but a fleeting moment.

Not even now, as cities burn once again. Not even now, as the world seemingly readies itself for another war. Not even now, as more death engulfs the world. Not even now, as Evil reigns. And Evil thinks it’s winning. The flames having the upper hand. With fireworks in the night sky, and the Devil staring straight at us front and center. World War III on the horizon.

We can still work this out.

And we can stave off a civil war. But, we must heed the warning signs.

We can find the reconcilable parts of our hearts. And join together once again. As one nation, undivided.

And then we can have a simple block party. Hot dogs and beers all around. Slip, sliding away. Party in the USA. Everyone’s invited - Kimmy Gibbler included. And cookies are not required.~

​

Always and forever in the search of the best dessert on the planet - today, I’m bringing you two more ice cream adventures:

Rita’s vs. Whit’s

In a battle of wits… for Bean’s Best @ The Beaches 2020 ~ Ice Cream Edition ~

Remember when it was somebody’s birthday? Ohhhh, so very, very long ago…

Candles would be lit. A song would be sung. And the birthday boy, or birthday girl, would take in a big breath - with their lungs - and blow out all the candles.

And then everybody would clap.

The cake would be sliced. Every piece passed around - a plate of deliciousness for all at the party. Everybody sharing, in an act of celebration. Another person a year older - another piece of cake to commemorate the occasion.

A fork in one hand. A plate of frosted, sugary goodness in the other.

And without giving it a second thought, everyone would bite into their slice of dessert, even though somebody had just previously breathed upon said cake?

Sacrilege!

Those moments are now gone.

But a girl can dream - right?

No one will look at a birthday cake the same way again now.

Because, while we all still may eat the cake, the sentiment just isn’t the same. And while we all still may sing a song… and candles can still be blown out… the world has once again changed.

And I miss that corresponding sentiment.

I miss a whole lot more than just that though.

I miss it all...

I miss coffee shops.

I miss restaurants.

I miss saying, “Table for two.” - Instead of “Two dinners to go, please.”

I miss smiles on unhidden faces.

I miss laughter.

I miss jokes.

I miss friends.

I miss family.

I miss parties.

I miss the library.

I miss fairs, carnivals, rides, cotton candy, and sno cones.

I miss Art Shows, Art Walks, Art Festivals, craft shows, and concerts.

And I still don’t miss nfl football.

I miss my once a year and very boring visit to the Florida Highway Safety and Motor Vehicle Department. Otherwise known as the FLHSMV. In fact, I miss that a whole heck of a lot more than football.

And I missed out on the opportunity to see Hamilton - right here in Jacksonville, back in March. My tickets - sadly, refunded to my credit card.

I miss the smell of a book, just picked up from the library, as I crack open the spine.

I miss handshakes.

I miss milk shakes.

I miss hugs.

I miss kisses on the cheek.

I miss the darn dentist.

I miss joy and good cheer.

I miss good will to all people.

I miss Christmas.

I miss Walt Disney World.

I miss All-You-Can-Eat Buffets.

I miss unlimited scoops of ice cream, from large tubs, on the dessert line of the above-mentioned buffet. Where I can pick up my own cup, take the cold steel scoop, push it with my own hands into the milky cream, releasing chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry into my own cup. My very own ice cream mountain - as high as I want to make it.

I miss simple get togethers - large and small. I miss people’s faces when I communicate with them. I miss the act of meeting up with those fellow humans - in person. In real life.

I miss being able to hear that fellow human being, clearly, when they speak to me - their unmuffled voice carrying into my ears, and the sound of it not being blocked by a cloth mask.

I miss people treating one another as fellow human beings - and not treating others as the walking plague.

I miss closeness.

I miss happiness all around us.

I miss people leaving their house like it was just another day.

I miss life… I miss seeing other people living their lives.

I miss faith over fear.

But just because I miss all these very simple things, doesn’t mean I haven’t been doing them, and living them, myself.

In fact, I’ve been the busiest in my entire life - during the long and drawn out and quite dramatic duration of this entire, never-ending plague.

Regardless of life outside my own front door. I am breathing. I am communicating. I am celebrating. I am being responsible for myself. I am making my own life decisions. I am sucking it up. I am dealing. I am not only surviving. I am proud and happy to be fully alive. I am living.

I am reading. I am planning. I am dreaming. I am pursuing. I am working hard. I am exercising. I am writing. I am painting. I am utilizing this time to become stronger. To learn. To grow. To try new things.

And most importantly, I am persevering.

And I am coming home from work - and I’m stepping right in the shower, washing the invisible and mysterious and confusing plague off me each night.

And, I’ve learned a lot. And I’ve learned what I already always knew - how imperative each breath we take really is.

So let’s all inhale.

Breathe in - In the face of fear.

Exhale - and keep going, my friends. Exhale and continue onward. Exhale and push forward. Exhale and persevere.

And if it happens to be your birthday, go ahead and exhale a big breath straight onto your very own birthday cake candles...

Yes, I know that’s exactly what we will be doing this weekend.

As we celebrate my hubby’s birthday, we will dine out, along the water’s edge, for our First Supper since the plague began. We will sit at tables, amongst other human beings. All partaking in the common and essential act of breathing, and eating.

And I will pick up the special cupcake creations I ordered from Cinotti’s Bakery. And I will slap some candles on top of the frosted red velvety goodness. I will light the flame.

And I will sing “Happy Birthday!”

And my furry baby will probably sing a lot louder than me.

And most importantly, my hubby will then inhale with his own set of two lungs, and exhale hard on top of all the frosting, extinguishing that flame. And then we will eat all the darn sugar. ~

​And as y’all know what kind of crazy time period we have been living throughout the global pandemic. Plus the 24 hour news cycle endlessly discussing all things coronavirus… being in the kitchen, and making a homemade dessert, can be a thoroughly needed and recommended distraction with the current state of affairs throughout the globe. Honestly, I can’t remember enjoying the entire process of making homemade food as much I did with this dish. These peanut butter bubbles were a sincere and absolute joy to make.

I made the treats at home on Holy Thursday, and they came to work with me on Good Friday. They were my Easter Goodies to share with everyone. And I think they went over well… At the end of my shift I went to grab my Tupperware to take home with me and every last Bubble was gone. Sooo happy indeed.
​
The highest compliment any baker can receive is a completely empty serving platter.