What a lovely piece of writing. Thank you, I really enjoyed your reminiscing of days gone by. I was born in 1958, so I remember all of those thoughts and memories. ❣️
You had me with the bench seats of the Cutlass... and loved it even more when I read that the caramel was to mark a very special celebration, ahh that amber light - thank you, Lindsay. PS - love the jacket too!
Wonderful. Rich, nostalgic, beautiful. Love the jacket! (Did the girl in Footloose also have a brown jacket like that?) Another lovely post. Thanks so much.
Nostalgia: a seventies van, built in bed, one child reading on bed, one baby in mobile chair in van whilst Tommy and I driving down the 95 to Daytona beach to “camp” for 24 nights..
I purchased a fringed poncho at the vintage curio show 😅a few weeks ago
That jacket ! Deeply cool fringing with that weight ...
Bench seats were less prevalent here in the UK but your writing and caramel tones made me lie, here in the warmth of the morning bed and think about lost behaviours. That I was lying here reading on my phone was a non thing as a kid. Where standing in the draughty cold hall waiting for the fixed telephone on the wall's dial to roll back whilst your numb fingers impatiently waited so you could put another finger into the next hole and push it back round. Waiting for the pitch to change so you could dial as speedily as possible, but not so early that the number failed to be recognised was a skill set, or too long between dials so you'd get cut off half way along your dialling the whole number . Ours was not far from the kitchen where more often than not the smells were less than inviting but occasionally my mother would have made buttery flapjack with those warm sugar tones floating in the air. Sitting on the stairs talking on the phone line stretched to its furthest limits, wrapped in sweet aromatics.
Am " dialling into " the Claire Ptak on caramel as you've had me hooked on her recipes and books since the Nectarine and Peach Pie. It is this years new nostalgia as we can't find stone fruits to keep on making them now and are hungrily looking forward, eager for next years peach season even now with glassy eyes.
Fun and lovely! food, jacket, old bench seats in cars.....Delightful.
Yes to the fringe!!!!!
We're here for it 😎
What a lovely piece of writing. Thank you, I really enjoyed your reminiscing of days gone by. I was born in 1958, so I remember all of those thoughts and memories. ❣️
Thank you Candice!
We got away with more didn't we, in those cars, with those seats? ;)
I just looked up a recipe for chewy caramel. It's interesting that the two very different confections still have the same name.
I find the caramel nomenclature very confusing! caramel always requires a adjective - chewy, shard... is shard an adjective? see so confusing!
🤪
You had me with the bench seats of the Cutlass... and loved it even more when I read that the caramel was to mark a very special celebration, ahh that amber light - thank you, Lindsay. PS - love the jacket too!
Wish I could give you a big piece of that cake Jen! Of course the birthday girl was in sparkles :)
Wonderful. Rich, nostalgic, beautiful. Love the jacket! (Did the girl in Footloose also have a brown jacket like that?) Another lovely post. Thanks so much.
Beth you're right! Ariel wore a tan one... can had red leather boots! So good. And she was so bad!
Hahaha. Ah the memories. That movie certainly made you want to get up and dance.
Lindsay this is one of my favourite pieces of yours. Gosh it brought back so many memories xx
Sally that means so much, thank you ❤️❤️❤️
Love ♥️burnt sugar!
Nostalgia: a seventies van, built in bed, one child reading on bed, one baby in mobile chair in van whilst Tommy and I driving down the 95 to Daytona beach to “camp” for 24 nights..
I purchased a fringed poncho at the vintage curio show 😅a few weeks ago
That jacket ! Deeply cool fringing with that weight ...
Bench seats were less prevalent here in the UK but your writing and caramel tones made me lie, here in the warmth of the morning bed and think about lost behaviours. That I was lying here reading on my phone was a non thing as a kid. Where standing in the draughty cold hall waiting for the fixed telephone on the wall's dial to roll back whilst your numb fingers impatiently waited so you could put another finger into the next hole and push it back round. Waiting for the pitch to change so you could dial as speedily as possible, but not so early that the number failed to be recognised was a skill set, or too long between dials so you'd get cut off half way along your dialling the whole number . Ours was not far from the kitchen where more often than not the smells were less than inviting but occasionally my mother would have made buttery flapjack with those warm sugar tones floating in the air. Sitting on the stairs talking on the phone line stretched to its furthest limits, wrapped in sweet aromatics.
Am " dialling into " the Claire Ptak on caramel as you've had me hooked on her recipes and books since the Nectarine and Peach Pie. It is this years new nostalgia as we can't find stone fruits to keep on making them now and are hungrily looking forward, eager for next years peach season even now with glassy eyes.