Working on the Railroad: Use Your Words

Today’s post is a monthly writing challenge. If you’re new here, this is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once. All of the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the recipient will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.
I'm using: railway ~ breaks ~ saws ~ bird ~ variety ~ platform 
They were submitted by Jenniy of Climaxed.

I bet you know where these words took me. Yup, to trains.

The boys loved trains when they were little. Firetrucks would catch their interest too while we were out doing our errands, but on the occasions when we happen to see a train? That was the best. If there was a safe place to pull off the road, I'd whip over to the side and stop, sometimes resulting in an angry driver flipping me the bird (sorry, had to use that word and it's not so easy to work into a post about trains). On those occasions, the big locomotives would speed past us with a whoosh, rocking my car. We'd sit there listening to the click clack, click clack of all the cars until the caboose passed. "I'm going to work for the railroad," my youngest would always say, inevitably resulting in my loudly singing "I've been working on the railroad," to those poor kids' dismay.  

We don't have any local commuter trains here, at least not anywhere near us, the railways all through this area are populated only by Union Pacific trains carrying freight. Sometimes we'd pass by a train going in the opposite direction always wave to the conductor. More often we'd be driving to the mall on a street that passed under the tracks. Every now and then, if we got really lucky, we'd be driving down the road where their preschool was, the road parallel to a section of tracks, when a train would come up beside us. I'm going to work for the railroad," my youngest would always say, inevitably resulting in my loudly singing "I've been working on the railroad," to those poor kids' dismay.  

In the summers we'd take breaks from the steaming heat of the Midwest and head to the beaches of the East Coast. I'm from the Boston area, where there's a local transit system called the T, with a variety of options for little train lovers. There are streetcars, which are more like a bus on rails. No platforms, just jump on from one of the stops on the road. We'd ride them with my sister and her kids, such a fun adventure for the kids (maybe not so much my sister's two kids, but definitely mine). You can also, though, take an actual commuter train that would make local stops, and every now and then we'd make a day of it. In fact, one of my favorite pictures of the 4 cousins is of them sitting together on a seat on one of those train rides. 

We'd ride for a while and then get off in another town where we could walk to a local park. The kids would play for a few hours, ride the swings, go down the slides and make each other dizzy on the seesaws. After juice boxes and cookies that we'd packed for the day out, they had the train ride home to look forward to.   

Raspberry Lemon Crunch Cookies

Back on the train, kids happy and tired and full of snacks, we'd ride, swaying in our seats, back to the station where my sister had left her car. "I'm going to work for the railroad," my youngest would always say, inevitably resulting in my loudly singing "I've been working on the railroad," to all four kids' dismay.  

These are all such fun memories, but time passes, kids get older, and dreams change. We don't pull over to watch trains go by any more, although I do often smile when I see one, remembering when we did. These days I have no little ones to embarrass with my loud refrains of "I've been working on the railroad."  

And that little boy, convinced he'd someday work for the railroad? He grew up and went off to college, majored in Computer Science and is currently working in Boulder Colorado as a Senior Applications Developer. 

Oh, and who does he work for? 

Union Pacific.

Here are links to all the other Use Your Words posts:

Wandering Web Designer
On the Border 
Climaxed 
Part-time Working Hockey Mom 

Raspberry Lemon Crunch Cookies

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
12 lemon sandwich cookies 
1/3 cup yellow, pink and/or red colored sugar
1 package sugar cookie mix
1/2 - 1 cup butter or butter substitute (amount recommended on package), room temperature
1 egg
1 tsp raspberry extract
1/4 cup freeze dried raspberries

Directions:
*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cover baking sheets with parchment paper.
*Crush the lemon sandwich cookies to small pieces (not crumbs).
*Place the colored onto a plate.
*Mix together the cookie mix, butter or substitute, egg, raspberry extract, freeze dried raspberries, and crushed cookies until it forms a dough.
*Roll the dough into approximately 3/4 inch balls. Flatten slightly, press one side into the colored sugar and place them onto the baking sheets, sugar side up.
*Bake for 10 - 12 minutes or until the cookies just start to brown around the edges. Allow to sit on the baking sheets for 2 minutes before removing to cool completely.

Sad, Scary, Heatwarming and Fond: Secret Subject Swap

Welcome a Secret Subject Swap. This month 6 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts. Read through mine and at the bottom you’ll find links to all of today’s other Secret Subject participants.

My subject is: What is your fondest childhood memory?
It was submitted by: Rena of Wandering Web Designer.

Memory? What memory? 

Fondest, that's a difficult concept. Not only because my memory fails me, but because of the ones I do retain, it's hard to pick one over the other. 

Now if you asked me what my saddest memory from childhood is, I can answer that. I went to a private preschool and I just hated it. We carpooled, I can't even remember with who, but I do remember sitting in the back of someone's car, crying the whole way there. I'd try to think of some reason to get that poor woman to take me back home. In my childish way, the most important thing I could think of was wailing through my tears, "I forgot to tell my mommy something." Didn't work. And I wouldn't be surprised if that poor lady hit the cooking sherry on carpool day. Sorry lady, my bad.

The scariest memory comes from the summers. We belonged to a private pool club and I was probably 7 years old. I wanted to dive from the high diving  board but it was terrifying. Hell, even climbing up to the board was terrifying. When I did get the nerve, I'd dive from a sitting position, not standing up. And if I didn't dive far enough out to enter the water at an angle, it really hurt the top of my head. 

Conquering that fear was intense, and I wanted my mom to see it. I remember her sitting in the sun with a bunch of friends, me coming over and telling her she had to watch me, I was going to dive from the high board. She would talk to her friends as I walked over, glancing at me now and then, same thing as I climbed to the board. Then I got to the top, looked over to be sure Mom was paying attention. And then, as I always did, scared to death, I sat. And sat. And sat. And sat. 5 minutes trying to talk myself into going, peek at Mom (still watching). 10 minutes, trying to talk myself into going, peek at Mom (watching intermittently). When finally, sometime in the next century, I got my hands above my head and scushed my butt over the edge I took one last peek, sailed through the air, broke through into the water, swam to the edge, got out, stomped over to mom and scolded her profusely for not seeing my feat of bravery.

A proud moment was winning a race at that same pool club. All the kids were older and we were to swim freestyle from one side of the pool to the other. These kids knew how to race. I didn't. The whistle blew and they skimmed the water in their sleek racing dives. I only knew one way to dive, straight down. They were all 1/4 of the way across the pool before I came back up. But I swam my little heart out and at the other end found myself lifted from the pool by the ref as the winner. I got a cool trophy. I think I still have it. I know that for a week after that I stood in my driveway daily in a bathing suit holding that trophy. 

There are heartwarming memories too. Rarely, but every once in a while, Mom and my sister and I would go to a local diner. We'd order a giant banana spit with 3 spoons and that would be our dinner.

And there were the family business's box seats to the Red Sox, right by the dugout along the first base line. They were given out to clients mostly, but we got our turn too. My grandfather (alav ha- shalom) instilled my love of the Red Sox that lives as a tribute to him to this day.

Mom was and still is a great cook. But she is the family baker. She wanted us to remember coming home on Friday afternoons to the smell of something baking in the oven. Didn't happen all the time, but I can tell you that whenever there was a function of any kind, Mom was assigned dessert. And everyone would just about tackle her on the way in the door to ooh and aah at whatever she'd brought.

Lemon Cake with Strawberry Whipped Cream Frosting

I would have to say though that some of my fondest memories were those visiting my (great)aunt (alav ha-shalom) and uncle (alav ha-shalom) in West Palm Beach. My aunt was my grandmother's (alav ha-shalom) identical twin sister and they were as close as could be. The family all vacationed at their home and it was always a whirlwind of activity. The house itself was huge, a mansion. With exquisite grounds. I remember my great grandmother, who lived there at the time, would putt around in the kitchen with the pet parrot on her shoulder getting in the cook's way. Bobbe (alav ha-shalom) was constantly going outside forgetting about the parrot who someone would inevitably have to coax out of the tree. On a regular basis.

The older cousins would live, dorm style, in the maid's quarters upstairs off the kitchen. I'm not sure where I slept, it probably depended on how many people were there at any given time. But I do remember getting lost in that house but never being worried about it, someone would find me eventually. And there was so much to explore, a favorite being the room with the little toy piano, and any of the warm sunny decks. 

The yard featured a lake where I was allowed to swim as long as someone was with me, and the grounds featured bush mazes which treated you to a serene bench area in the center. There were large palm trees and I remember the gardeners shimmying up to grab me a fresh coconut. They'd tap it so I could drink the milk, then slit it open so I could gnaw at the fresh fruit.

I don't know why the only pictures I have are these two, old black and whites from before my time.

Back of the house

My great aunt holding my cousin in front of the house.

In the front, there was a long, long rock driveway that eventually ended at the road. Getting the mail was going for a walk. And I remember one day when the driveway was the edge of a sun shower (something new to me), standing in the rain, taking a step to the right where it wasn't raining and moving back to the left where it was.

That was also the house where I got the Chicken Pox, and gave them to my sister, the day before Mom was supposed to fly out to the Bahamas for a mini vacation. But I suppose that's a story for another day.

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Wandering Web Designer 
Spatulas on Parade 
Our Prime Years 
Part-time Working Hockey Mom 
Climaxed 

Lemon Cake with Strawberry Whipped Cream Frosting

                                                         ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:
3/4 cup fresh strawberries
1/4 cup seedless strawberry jam
1/2 tsp strawberry extract

1 box lemon cake mix
3 eggs 
1/2 cup lemon yogurt
1/2 cup sour cream
1 tsp lemon extract
1/4 cup water
1/2 cup vegetable oil

1/4 cup seedless strawberry jam
1 tsp water

2 cups heavy cream
1/3 cup powdered sugar

OPT: Sliced strawberries for garnish

Directions: 
*Clean, hull and finely chop strawberries. Mix them with 1/4 cup strawberry jam and the strawberry extract. Mash together until the jam is smooth and coating the strawberries. Set aside on the counter.
*Grease and flour a 9 X 13 baking pan. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
*Beat the cake mix, eggs, yogurt, sour cream, 1/4 cup water and vegetable oil for 3 minutes. Pour into prepared pan.
*Whisk 1/4 cup strawberry jelly with 1 tsp water. Dot over the cake batter and, using a toothpick swirl into just the top of the batter. Bake cake for about 25 minutes, just until the center springs back to the touch. Cool completely.
*Using a fork, food processor or blender, mash the strawberries.
*Beat the heavy cream until soft peaks form. Add the powdered sugar and strawberry mixture and beat until stiff peaks hold. 
*OPT: Remove about 3/4 cup of the strawberry whipped cream and store in a sealed sandwich bag in the fridge if you want to pipe it onto the individual pieces for serving. 
*Spread the remaining strawberry whipped cream over the cooled cake. 
*To serve, garnish with the reserved strawberry whipped cream and/or sliced strawberries if desired. 
*Store, covered, in refrigerator.