Popsicle

I was worried I had spelled Popsicle wrong on each of my photos. Fortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case. My Dad brought down the industrial, steel, popsicle maker that my parents used to make us popsicles when my brother and I were kids. I'm not sure how they ever managed to make this thing work effectively. We used some packaged fruit punch to make the popsicles, and I almost couldn't get the top off the popsicle maker. And my ability to control the depth of the sticks was circumspect at best. Nonetheless, Eryn was very excited.


Here's a better picture of my haphazard stick placement. And I filled it a bit full. You really need to make sure you don't overfill it, or the top sticks. Note the hairdryer. It worked well to blow it through the metal so the popsicles would loosen up. Still, we only managed to reclaim about 2/3 of the popsicles in their entirety. Another 1/3 turned into half popsicles. Eryn appreciated the remnants.


An example of one that turned out correct. Hey! There's Pooteewheet's cold medicine. She got sick right after I did last week and then turned the flu into viral pneumonia of both lungs. Lucky her. She wanted to know how we were going to get the popsicles out if we had to refreeze the popsicle maker each time. I pointed her at the ice cream bucket in the fridge full of individual treats. Sometimes I think she suspects I couldn't manage my way out of a box.

Each of these was made with nutritious, vitamin C fortified, juice. So I'm excited that popsicle time has turned into semi-healthy treat time. Next I'll make some out of Clamato.