Bubble Gum Ice Cream

I'm catching up on blogging about the last month and a half, and I'd say the above picture captures a favorite moment of this fall.  We went to the Poconos for a friend's wedding October 16-18, which incidentally was one of the best weekends of the entire year.  The weekend was filled with friends, laughter, great food, and a day of re-living my childhood in the Poconos.  It was incredible; we went to the pretzel factory where you can "take the tour" and watch fun-loving individuals make pretzels.  We went to American Candle and Holley Ross and every amazing place I remember from being a kid.  I realized on this day how much the Poconos feels like home to me.  I never really felt much connection with New Jersey.  Sure, it's a fine place with culture and proximity to beaches and cities and blah blah blah, but it's not where my heart is.  For the longest time, I thought NYC was my home, but the NYC I know only exists in memory.  I never realized it, but my time in the Poconos was when meaning was whispered into my soul; every falling leaf, ski slope, and walk to the lake pumped life into me.

The weekend more than satisfied my expectations.  In fact, I didn't even realize a piece of me was missing until I got it back sometime on our journey through the Poconos, and I think it was when I found the "Casino" Ice Cream Parlor and movie theater in Mt. Pocono.  My sister and I used to order bubble gum ice cream-the real kind with the actual pieces of bubble gum-and ride the little kiddie rides there.  Then, with our tongues bright red, we would go across the street to the weird gift shops full of Native American paraphernalia, wooden gifts with first names etched into them, and large clocks painted with scenes from hunting in the woods, all while chewing tasteless gum.  Finding the Casino Ice Cream parlor and seeing it again with Mike was the best.  It was Home.  

P.S. The ice cream parlor still had the real bubble gum ice cream.  It also had a new flavor which I HAD to get: Play-Doh flavored.  I mean, it really looked like play-doh.  It was bright bright yellow with chunks of bright bright red and blue "play-doh" mixed with it-really cookie dough.  I felt 9 years old-I had a scoop of play doh and a scoop of bubble gum-only this time I was actually allowed to have a cone.  For those of you who don't know, I may be the only person ever to have been kicked out of an ice cream parlor as a little kid for being TOO MESSY, so growing up I wasn't ever allowed to have a cone.  When I went to college, I found one of the many pleasures of being an adult was the ability to order myself an ice cream cone.  I still am thrilled to have my ice cream cones!