JELL-O

I love Jell-o !
Always have,
Always will!
My friend in middle school, called me Jello.
I called Laurie Lawrence of Arabia,
Gosh we cracked ourselves up!

Red is my favorite flavor...
Strawberry~banana is alright, too.
Pink is surprisingly good.
They didn't used to have pink.
It came along about the same time kiwis showed up.

I didn't know about kiwis.
I knew about Ponderosa lemons.
We had a hearty tree, it was massive!

It covered the large dining room window,
to the top, darkly when night came.
Grapefruit sized lemons grew like,
well, grapefruit sized lemons.
Fast, Huge Massive.

My dad had interesting color ideas, he was a painter.
And a good one.
His specialty: landscapes with wonderful colors.

Dark teal green covered our dining room walls.
Dark windows with Ponderosa lemons looming over table at night.
Barely there but for their shapes.

In the daytime, the lemons were fat, yellow,
not as heavy as they looked, but plenty heavy.
The skin was at least an inch and a half thick.
Spongy white.

The idea of putting a drink into the lemon,
instead of putting a lemon
into a drink amused cocktail guests.
I don't know if my father ever served one,
but I pictured ice clinking together
against the soft sides
and vodka twinkling in the big lemon.

I knew about vodka early on.
I don't know how I knew.
I just did.

My mom's recipe for a martini was
2 fingers of gin over 2 ice cubes.
And a splash of vodka.
"A little more, a little more."
The lemon wedge gave it color,
sometimes green lime stood in.

Or maybe my memory has failed.
Maybe the citrus was for her regular:
a gin and tonic.
My mom laughed,
loud, high pitched, with her head back.
Crinkly blue eyes twinkling, reaching for a drink.

Drink in handwith a cigarette
dangling from feminine fingers.
The epitome of elegance:
cocktail, cigarette, smiles, tan shoulders.
More laughter later.

My dad had whisky.
"Two fingers!" he'd call across the room from the sofa.
"Not enough, maybe three."
I dutifully poured it over the rocks
and carried it over.
"Haaah...heee...scha, cha, cha! "
he'd smack, grimacing.
Mom sipped with lipstick on,
with shining white teeth.

The first drink was relaxing.
The rest suggested trouble.


Tonic water was offered to the teenagers
if there wasn't coke,
Or beer.


Too bad citrus sat too tartly on my taste buds.
Ponderosa lemons were fun to fool with,
but the bitter taste didn't match the
lemon yellow soft fruit color.
On the sunny green lawn, cut the big
butter colored ponderosa,
dig out the lemon and you have
a beautiful, cup~shaped, gigantic lemon half.


But for what purpose?
I pictured red jello wobbling and shimmering,
smooth as glass on top, cool in the refrigerator.


But how?
I'd cooked made~up brownies, before.
Milk, flour, powdered hot chocolate mix. Stir.
Cook for 45 minutes. What a flop.


Tried stirring powdered sugar
into the hot liquid. Didn't help at all.
Baked it a little more and then:

...I tried to dig out the hardened mass
with a fork that bent...
so I just left the whole mess in the sink,
with puddles of milk and sifted flour
and sticky spoons on the red counter.

Did you know you can put a whole spoonful
of sugar in your mouth and it tastes and feels delicious?

Finally, without admitting defeat,
I'd try fix the recipe and try again later.


I didn't know if I could figure out
how to make jello in a huge lemon shell.
Too hard to even think about.



Out of ideas,
I'd think of something else...
I hopped onto my imaginary palomino, Trigger,
and galloped off next door
to see what was up at their house.

Maybe I could help their mom make cookies.