There are a couple of very good Splotch stories in the comments of the previous post. You should have a sticky beak. Apparently, we’ve all experienced these Ophthalmic Migraines in one form or another, we just haven’t known what to call them 🙂

My big purple splotch is down to the size and shape of a rice bubble, transparent, and while it continues to hover in my line of vision, it’s not nearly as annoying as before. Thank goodness.

 However, it has made me think of making a tray of Rice Bubble Treats. Soul food from my childhood the ingredients of which I’m not ashamed to admit can still, occasionally, be found on my shopping list. Although in the US we called them Rice Krispies Treats.

When I was first introduced to Rice Bubbles in Australia, I was told the following story. There’s no moral, no car chase, no quiz at the end. It’s just a cute story called:

 

The Littlest Rice Bubble

Once upon a time there was a giant factory that made nothing but Rice Bubbles. Big, little, short, thin, round, stubby, tall – Rice Bubbles. One evening a new batch of just-born Rice Bubbles were spread out onto a huge drying rack and tucked away in a corner. The big machines were all shut down for the night, the lights went off and all went quiet.

The Littlest Rice Bubble woke up in the dark. She realized she was on the very bottom of the rack and wondered what one could see from the top where there surely would be more light. She wiggled around to get a better view – and her brave journey began.

The Littlest Rice Bubble wiggled and wriggled and squirmed and rolled and wiggled and wriggled and wiggled some more and squirmed and jiggled and wriggled and just as she got to the top of the tray all the lights went on, the machines began to hum and suddenly all the Rice Bubbles on the rack were upended and dumped into a humongous vat with thousands, if not millions of other Rice Bubbles and… The Littlest Rice Bubble found herself again at the very bottom of the Rice Bubble pile.

The Littlest Rice Bubble pulled herself together, took a very deep breath and determined not to give up. She wiggled and wriggled and wiggled and rolled and wiggled and squirmed and wriggled and wiggled all the way to the top of the vat. Finally, poking her little head through the very top of the heap she proudly looked around just in time to see the big, big vat tilt sideways, spilling its delicate cargo into hundreds if not thousands of brightly coloured boxes.

And in her box, The Littlest Rice Bubble realized she was once again – at the bottom of the pile. So she sighed a big sigh and began anew… she wriggled and wiggled and wiggled and squirmed and jiggled and rolled and wriggled and wiggled all night long until she’d made it to the top of the box.

The Littlest Rice Bubble was both happy and sad for while she’d made it to the top, she still couldn’t see anything because the box was sealed shut. But just then a miracle happened. She could feel herself moving, and something undid the box lid and suddenly there were bright lights and music and someone laughing and giggling but as she turned to get a better look, the box upended and dozens if not hundreds of Rice Bubbles went tumbling down into a big yellow bowl. Oh no! At the bottom again!

This would not do! The Littlest Rice Bubble pulled up her socks and wriggled and wiggled and wriggled and squirmed and jiggled and wiggled and wriggled and rolled and jiggled and wiggled and… well if you want to hear more you’ll have to wait. It’s a cereal, after all.

 (Haha)

Advertisements