The joy of frozen goods.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 5 comments link this postI awoke knowing it was that time of the year.
My head was stuffed and dry and as I got ready for work, I found my mind wandering to the ancient Egyptian mummification process and if there might not be a less lethal way of integrating that into sinus relief.
A crackly, cold below-zero morning greeted me and the Jeep hacked its way to life. There were frozen tissues on the front passenger seat and as I creaked down the road in that soft, early-morning cotton-candy pink and blue only seen in this kind of cold, I wondered at my own slovenliness.
Then I saw it.
In the back seat of the jeep sat a frosted cake, fully decorated and fully frozen. An old, yellowing Tupperware container meant for such two-layer cakes, cakes that people don't seem to make anymore, protected it from rampaging mice. The Christine of baked goods, the Cujo of confections. There it was.
It's that time of year where all North Dakotans find themselves the proud owners of an exponentially increased amount of deep-freeze storage space. For four or five months, there's no need to panic about where to put the frozen food. Can't fit all the milk in the refrigerator? Set it on the front porch swing. Just brush off the snow and you're good to go. Shot six more deer than you had tags for? Legality problems aside, no worries, friend! Plenty of space to freeze it all. Gone hog-wild on ice-cream shopping when you realized you could buy flavored ice-cream in Devils Lake and not have it melt on the 40 mile drive home? Believe me, your ice-cream will keep! The glory of sub-zero at its fullest! The time when outdoor pop machines are no longer keeping things cool, but are keeping the pop from freezing.
My mother had made the cake, a birthday cake for Jesus, for the Christmas program at our church this past Sunday. The congregation sang "Happy Birthday" while a candle was burning but we didn't eat the cake. We plann to eat it at the family gathering at Christmas, but there was no room for it in our ancient-but-reliable International Harvester freezer. Now the cake sat in the back of my lowly Jeep, a sugary confection waiting for December 24 and threatening to violently leap forward and de-brain me should I brake suddenly.
I began having nightmares of mom trundling all kinds of food out into the various vehicles, nightmares of one day driving to work and looking in the rear view mirror only to see a couple of cases of frozen peas, a boneless ham, some frozen turkey broth in jars and a couple of pounds of hamburger.
"You don't mind," I imagined her saying to me, her hands piled high with leftovers stashed in disposable Ziploc containers which were three years old and had yet to be disposed of, "if I just put this bean hotdish in your glove compartment, do you?"
Honor thy father and mother.
"Go ahead, mom," I imagined myself saying. Crying silently. Watching as the glove compartment was filled with hotdish, watching as the back seat began to look like a side show at the Hostfest.
On the way home from work today I received the usual response to my slow and careful driving: the digital salute. At least, that's what my father calls it. It was, as can be expected in such situations, delivered by the driver of an overly-decaled Chevy Silverado who will no doubt go on, someday, to hit a deer and expect me to cry for him.
Rest assured, dear reader, that I did not respond in kind. My mittens prevented me from doing so. I think, however, that the other drivers would be more understanding and less prone to "waving" if only they knew of the danger that lurked within my vehicle. One quick moment of braking and I could be wearing frosting on the back of my head, tiny candle rakishly jutting from my right ear. One sudden slide into the ditch and our entire two-month stockpile of food could be decimated. One spin-out on black ice and the three-bean hotdish could be two beans short! These are battle conditions, people! It is vital that I don't drive recklessly!
In the back seat is a menace. I have to drive carefully. I have a cake in my vehicle. Please understand that.
Labels: family, humor, north dakota
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 12/06/2006 11:07:00 PM
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5 Comments:
threatening to violently leap forward and de-brain me should I brake suddenly
You know, that actually happened to Tom Mix, although it was a suitcase full of coins, not a layer cake.
By 
MichaelBates, at
7/12/06 11:49
I thought about you today when I saw the weather report on Fox, and wondered how you guys coped with such bitter cold. I see that humor helps. That, and the thought of central America in February. ;-)
By Eric, at
7/12/06 18:09
We can do the same thing...it occasionally hits -40 and below here. (Two years ago it was -58 for a day or two). Fortunately, we're having a warmer winter in Alaska, though it was -30 for abour two solid weeks. I don't remember anything colder than about -20 in Grand Forks when I lived there.
BTW...what missile site does your family own again?
By 
, at
9/12/06 00:17
Hi GF. Speaking of nice weather...had some in the 30's today. Supposed to be in the 40's tomorrow. It's fantastic!
As far as the site goes, we own E-0.
By Julie, at
9/12/06 01:13
Funny you should mention that cake. Alicia and I were just talking about it yesterday.
By Jacqui, at
10/12/06 07:26
