drink of the gods

If someone had walked up to me this morning and said, “You are going to spend ten minutes making yourself a mug of hot cocoa,” I probably would have responded with something like, “Dude.  Two words.  Swiss Miss.  Two more.  Thirty seconds.”  (Or maybe it’s Carnation brand we usually keep on hand?)

In any case, the [insert brand name here] that we usually keep on the shelves was GONE when I felt the cocoa cravings.  Ohnoes!  It’s cold and rainy and I absolutely, positively need cocoa!  The cold and rain put me off making a run to the grocery store or [insert coffee shop name here.]

But wait!  The internet will save me!  I googled around a bit and found a recipe here that looked promising and freely adapted it to suit my preferences, the amount I required, and what was on the cocoa-packet-less shelf in my kitchen.

As I blenderized and stirred my beverage, I pondered several things such as:
(1) I am an idiot for spending this much time on a mug of cocoa.
(2) I am not an idiot for spending this much time on a mug of cocoa.
(3) It feels nice to get up from my desk and stretch and WOW does this stuff smell amazing!

So, was the beverage in question worth the time it took?

Two words.  Um, yeah.

If you’d like to make your own mug of awesomeness, here’s my recipe:
1 cup raw milk
1 1/2 T raw cream
1 raw egg yolk
teeny-weeniest pinch of salt
1/2 tsp butter
1/8 tsp vanilla
2 1/2 tsp. rapadura (or sweetener of choice, to taste)
1 tsp honey
1 tablespoon high quality (best you can afford!) cocoa powder, unsweetened

Yes, that’s a whopping 9 ingredients.  I placed them in a blender to smooth everything out and then heated on a low heat to 117 degrees.  I then poured the chocolate-y deliciousness into a mug I’d warmed with hot water, because 117 is a perfect drinking temp, and I didn’t want the mug to cast an undesired chill upon my potion of delectable-ness.

If it is cold and rainy, or cold and snowy, or cold and [insert undesirable weather pattern here] where you live, I invite you to skip the powdered stuff and sample the drink of the gods.

Who’s Cidney?

If you know me, personally, you’ll know me as Cindy, or maybe Cynthia.  So who’s Cidney?  Well, when I was little, I had a friend who couldn’t manage to pronounce my name correctly.  She called me Cidney all year, and I liked it.  I was only five, and it didn’t occur to me that I could require everyone to address me as Cidney, or I would have.

Tee hee!  Enter the need for an easily-googled pen name.  Go ahead and google Cynthia Swanson.  Or Cindy Swanson.  Or CJ Swanson.  Wow!  There’s a lot of me out there!  Who knew I also ran PepsiCo or made cool art?

Use your kindergarten nickname, said a tiny little voice inside.  Now, being a writer, I don’t run the other way when the voices start talking.  I listen.  I take notes.  I write tomes.  Or in this case, I decide to spend a few days or maybe months trying on the name “Cidney” once again, at least in my writerly endeavors.

(Good job, says the little voice.)