Grandma Ruth and I took one of her granddaughters and one of mine out to lunch today.
Both Caroline and Laura are big fans of milk shakes, but neither had tried a malted milk.
Much as they were intrigued by the lure of essence of the inside of a Whopper candy, neither was brave enough to make the leap until I added that malt is a byproduct of brewing beer. (Not totally right, I know, but close enough to get the job done.)
Two malts went right down, to the detriment of the following lunch order, which went home in boxes for later snacking.
Laura, realizing the picture coincided with the spoon in her mouth.
So, the two firsts.
This is Francis, Caroline's big brother. He is fourteen, about two weeks younger than his cousin Laura.
When this picture was taken, at my 73rd birthday lunch, France was just back from a bicycling adventure. He and a schoolmate spent several days bicycling from Columbus back to their homes in Cleveland.
Early this morning he and his dad left for Virginia, to meet up with another cyclist. France will spend the next month cycling the TransAm Trail from Virginia to Illinois.
He spent last summer in southern Ohio, climbing rock faces with a school chum.
To his mother's dismay, he was incommunicado the entire time, and didn't set pen to paper once to let her know he was fine.
Recently Beth told me this same young man was heading off on a bigger adventure, and, be still her heart, intended to blog about it.
This grandma asked if she could give him a plug, and he said "Most certainly."
A click on the link under his picture will take you straight to Summit, his blog. So will a click on Summit.
Give him an atta boy, nice job young man.
And throw in one for his parents, too.