Baseball Cards and Ice Cream

For the first time since I lived in Malawi (?), I made ColdStone-style ice cream at home. The peanut butter and granola mixed perfectly into the Dreyers that was sitting in my freezer. This is the longest a carton of ice cream has survived in my freezer - I usually don't have this caliber of self control. It makes me feel justified in having bought it. Ice cream seems so sweet to me lately, though, that I almost have to work up the courage to eat a scoop. The same way I feel when I jump in the pool for the first time, when I'm still dry through and through.

The last month has been completely disorienting - in an enjoyable way. Truly like one of those Grab Bag's you buy at weird stores & they have all kinds of surprise trinkets in them. Those never were my style, because I hate gambling and always suspected I'd get the one full of cotton balls and twigs.

BUT... those 50 cent baseball card slot machines - now that was a gamble I could get behind. Eames and I ended up  with a lot of crap cards that way at Larry's Card Shop on Taylor Road. But the thrill was worth it and Larry always put out. (I'm not referencing the fact that he was later charged with child molestation.) There were few places I'd rather be as a pre-teen than at Collector's Paradise, opening surprise packs of MLB cards. The brands Fleer, Upper Deck, and Topps still make my heart skip a beat. Why did I love baseball cards so? It's a mystery to me.