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Post by TKennedy on Oct 25, 2009 11:08:37 GMT -5
I've been taking care of my wife after a knee replacement and she had a craving for real Quakers Oatmeal. I was amazed to find it is still in those great cardboard containers that were around in the 50's when I was a kid. Plastic top instead of cardboard otherwise still the same. I think I made some of my favorite toys out of those things. Still tastes great too. Anyone got any stories about stuff they made out of oatmeal boxes?  |
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Dub
Administrator
I'm gettin' so the past is the only thing I can remember.
Posts: 20,030 
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Post by Dub on Oct 25, 2009 11:20:17 GMT -5
I'm sure I must have made things from the boxes as a kid but I no longer remember what. Fiddlerina and I now enjoy steel cut oats. They are more flavorful and much healthier than oat meal. - Dub |
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Post by Russell Letson on Oct 25, 2009 11:24:58 GMT -5
Not me personally, but a friend who taught film photography at the university (a dying art, and now that he's retired, vanished from the curriculum) used to put out an appeal every year for oatmeal boxes, from which his students made pinhole cameras. Last year, Ted posted a farewell thank-you to all his colleagues who had contributed their Quaker Oats cylinders over the years.
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Post by iamjohnne on Oct 25, 2009 12:00:21 GMT -5
Drums. Lots and lots of drums.
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Post by RickW on Oct 25, 2009 13:51:40 GMT -5
We eat oatmeal a fair bit - yungerdottir loves it. I do too - good memories from being a kid. But those cans must be a US thing - always came in bags, here.
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Post by millring on Oct 25, 2009 14:06:22 GMT -5
Mmmm. Love oatmeal. Also malt-o-meal. Ditto, Ralston. I cook a handful of raisins and a handful a craisins in while they're cooking. Serve with bacon an two or three eggs over easy.
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Post by Russell Letson on Oct 25, 2009 14:38:59 GMT -5
Don't the eggs kinda sink into the oatmeal? And doesn't the bacon get all soggy?
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Post by millring on Oct 25, 2009 14:59:24 GMT -5
I keep all the foods separated neatly in their own ceramic containers. The raisins and craisins can touch the oatmeal because they are cooked together. Likewise, the eggs are cooked in the bacon grease, so I can allow the bacon to sit atop the eggs as long as the lines created by the pieces of bacon remain parallel to each other and on either side of each egg yolk. But the foods that are not cooked together cannot be touching.
Then I wash my hands. Twice. And count my footsteps back from the bathroom to the dining area. If the footsteps come out an even number, I have to throw away that whole breakfast and start the process all over again. And wash my hands again. Twice.
But it's all worth it in the long run. You can't hurry a good breakfast.
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Post by RickW on Oct 25, 2009 15:04:48 GMT -5
I put my pants on backwards. I discovered that by accident, having been in a bit of a haze one morning, wondering why my oatmeal tasted so damn fine, then got to work, where I was ridiculed by my fellow employees - but damn, I knew I had found the secret. So now, I wear my pants backwards every morning. Problem is, I'm so happy about breakfast, I forget to put my pants on right before I go.
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Post by millring on Oct 25, 2009 19:13:13 GMT -5
I put my pants on backwards. I discovered that by accident, having been in a bit of a haze one morning, wondering why my oatmeal tasted so damn fine, then got to work, where I was ridiculed by my fellow employees - but damn, I knew I had found the secret. So now, I wear my pants backwards every morning. Problem is, I'm so happy about breakfast, I forget to put my pants on right before I go. If you were double-joined at the hip, you'd barely notice the backwards pants thing. Don't Canadian men wear pants that zip up the side anyway? |
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Post by omaha on Oct 25, 2009 19:17:57 GMT -5
One of the rare and very infrequent treats of my childhood was a bowl full of oatmeal with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, along with a half a can of sliced peaches.
Yum, yum, yum!
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Post by theevan on Oct 25, 2009 19:41:34 GMT -5
So that's what it's come to at our age? The Joy of Oatmeal has replaced the Joy of Sex.
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Post by millring on Oct 25, 2009 19:49:00 GMT -5
So that's what it's come to at our age? The Joy of Oatmeal has replaced the Joy of Sex. Hey, we're married. Oatmeal is at least a possiblility. |
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Post by RickW on Oct 25, 2009 19:58:05 GMT -5
If you were double-joined at the hip, you'd barely notice the backwards pants thing. Don't Canadian men wear pants that zip up the side anyway? Actually, we wear those nice fuzzy pink body suits like that family in Todd's picture. That way all the 'Muricans think we're tough, 'cause we run around naked in snow, and they don't invade. 'Cause they want to, you know - that Obama guy wants energy independence, and logically, it means they have to invade Canuckistan, and take all our oil. So it's true. |
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Post by millring on Oct 25, 2009 20:01:15 GMT -5
We've been diagonally drilling your oil out from under you anyway. Could have spared you the embarrassment of those pink suits. That is, if you had found them to be embarrassing.
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Post by RickW on Oct 25, 2009 20:05:35 GMT -5
Actually, they're kind of warm and cozy. Gives a certain egalitarian flair to our cities - everyone looks, well, the same.
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Post by millring on Oct 25, 2009 20:06:12 GMT -5
everyone looks, well, the same. Kinda like carbon fiber guitars then, huh? |
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Post by RickW on Oct 25, 2009 20:13:47 GMT -5
No, bit more like Martin custom shop. You can get your own personalized trim, so to speak. Essentially the same thing, just outrageously expensive for the joys of variation.
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Post by Supertramp78 on Oct 25, 2009 20:18:56 GMT -5
Kelly like oatmeal. I have never developed a taste for the stuff.
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Post by Village Idiot on Oct 25, 2009 21:02:27 GMT -5
I had to take a stupid art education class when I was finally finishing my 15-year college plan in 1995, and had to make a stupid robot out of stupid found objects for the stupid woman who taught the stupid class. What with keeping straight A's, being the housemom to two very young girls, working side jobs and frequently out on the farm, I did not have time for an endeavor that would do nothing to further my personal quest for knowledge.
On the due date I entered the display area, which was a fairly large room and perused the other robots made out of found materials that students had brought in.
It seems the 18 and 20-year-olds I was taking the class with had put an inordinate amount of time into their robots. One had arms made out of dryer vent, even though the creator was too young to have ever seen a Lost in Space episode. Another student had drilled a myriad of holes into a shop vac and poked Christmas lights through them. Another robot hung from the ceiling with bubble wrap surrounding whatever found objects the maker had used to create the framework. The girls who made him called him Snappy.
The professor stalked the room with a clipboard, performing what she called an art analysis on each robot. She approached mine.
"What's this?"
"A robot."
"No it's not. It's a Quaker Oats container."
"Yes, but it's also a robot."
"No it's not. It's a Quaker Oats container. You didn't even make it."
"It's a found object."
"Aside from that, robots do things. What does yours do?"
"What does Snappy do?"
"He snaps!", she replied, reaching over and popping a bubble. "And he's interactive, because kids can replace the bubble wrap, showing that art is truly an avenue of two-way communication. He's a work of genious."
"Oh."
"Again, yours is just an oatmeal container. What does he do?"
"Andy Warhol might have disagreed," I thought to myself, but did not include that in my reply. "He smiles at people, and makes them healthy, and wishes them a good day."
In the end, she failed my robot. In fact, she failed me for the whole class. I went before a review board and lost. I had to take the whole class over again. Fortunately it was with someone else, and all went well.
That's my story about stuff made out of oatmeal containers.
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