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“…Eyeballs…” Book IV: 44. Grandma Grace’s S’mores

Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There?

By Kate Chamberlin

 

As Grace grows up, some of her stories are happy, some trying, some enlightening, and a few themes are sad, but, they’re all the warp and woof of what goes into the tapestry of life we call Family. The daily living skills and techniques demonstrated by the fictional characters in these stories are valid, tried and true.

 

Book IV:  Grandma Grace

#43. Charles and David

#44. Grandma Grace’s S’mores

“Grandma Grace! Grandma Grace! Tell us a story, ple-e-ease,” my three, young grandchildren begged as I sat in my favorite wicker rocker. Paulette climbed into my lap, as  Liam and Gracie sat themselves next to my old guide dog   at my feet on the old farm house porch.

“Well, when I was about your ages,” I began, “Our family went to a camp each summer that had lots of pine trees, a fish pond with tame ducks on it, tents to sleep in, and a camp fire every evening.”

“Were you blind then?” asked Liam, who got the thick curly brown hair from Granddad Ken.

“Yes,” I answered, “but, I’ve  always tried to do things the other kids were doing and my mother knew it was important to let me try things on my own. One evening, I wanted to make my own s’more, just like the other campers did,” I continued. “My mother said I couldn’t do it, because of the open camp fire.”

“Yes, I can. I can feel when I’m too close to the fire,” I said and proceeded to show her. I could hear her talking with other adults, but, she stayed nearby

“I felt the lines on the graham cracker and pushed. The graham cracker crumbled. After several crumbled crackers, I broke one along the lines and set it on the log we used for a bench.

“The chocolate candy bar was easy to unwrap. It was hard to break the candy, but I got it right on the first try!”

“Yea, Grandma Grace,” Paulette cheered. Her bouncing body caused her blonde pigtails to flip up and down, tickling Grandma Grace’s face.

“I set one of the chocolate pieces on the graham cracker that was on the log. Carefully, I put one marshmallow on a prong of my long handled fork.

“I could feel the heat from the campfire, but, the marshmallow fell off before I got it near the flame.”

“Aw, Grandma,” blonde, blue-eyed Gracie sighed.

“I jammed the second marshmallow onto the prong and held it over the fire. After a long time, I pulled it back and felt the marshmallow. It was still cold. I put it back over the fire, lower this time. Poof! It went up in flames and I could smell charred, burnt sugar. I pulled out the fork. The marshmallow fell into the fire.”

“Oh, no,” Liam moaned.

“I needed something to hold my fork up at the right height, so, I found a notched stick and poked it into the ground near the fire, away from the smoky side. The marshmallow toasted up quite nicely. I carried it back to the log. Turned around and, having forgotten what was on the log,  sat on my graham cracker and chocolate. It crumbled and fell into the dirt when I quickly stood up.”

“Grandma!” they all yelled in sympathy.

“Well, I ate that marshmallow plain. I needed something to keep my graham cracker and chocolate safe, so I found the old, iron skillet my mother used to cook our breakfast. I put a new graham cracker and chocolate into it so I could find them without sitting on them or knocking them into the dirt again.

“I placed the skillet next to the notched stick as I roasted another marshmallow. My marshmallow was, of course, perfect this time. I put it on top of the chocolate.

“Holding the marshmallow down with the top piece of the graham cracker, I slowly pulled my fork out. The center of the marshmallow stayed on the fork. When it was cool, I pinched it off and ate the sticky part.”

“Yum!”  Paulette said.

“There’s nothing better than a gooey sticky s’more with melted chocolate dripping all around. I ate the whole mess and several more, too!”

“Grandma Grace,” Gracie asked, “Would you make s’mores for us, please?”

Sure,” I said stretching and waking up my old guide dog, “but, these days I use a microwave!”

 

 
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