Suckers and Turtles

I'm being literal about the suckers. Erin has been losing half-eaten suckers around the house. You can follow the sticky trail, but you may not ever find that sucker.
And I have been leaving strings of caramel everywhere because I had some left over from the caramel apples I made yesterday. hehehe. Yeah. Remember that commercial about the "you are what you eat" and one guy had a donut with sprinkles around his waist? Another lady had huge sticky buns on her hips. Well, I think I'll just turn into a giant square of caramel because I can't stop. Oooooh. It's all buttery creamy chewy sweet and melt in your mouth. Ooooooh. Okay, I need to stop.
We've been picking up pecans from our backyard (there's a tree that overhangs the fence) and my HC has been cracking them. I go back over them and get the tiny shell pieces out of the wrinkles and creases (that sounds funny) and then put them in a quart sized freezer bag. So far we have 2!!! Pretty good for the backyard.
It is my goal to make turtles for Christmas. It's something my Gramma always used to do. There would be riots and fist fights, hair pulling and gnashing of teeth. Everyone guarded their tin under the tree and growled (I kid you not) at anyone who ventured too close. When the tins got home, it got worse. Family squabbles, petty disagreements and downright feuding occurred if anyone took one not allotted to them. And believe me, they were counted out, divided and hidden.
It was really close when a roommate filched one from my closet my freshman year of college. She'll never know how close she was having salt poured in her bed.
Anyway, Gramma stopped making them when our pecan supplier went home to heaven (my Great-Grandaddy, one of the best men I've ever known; I hope I have one-tenth of his knack for gardening). It's a lot different when you don't know someone with pecan trees. Some years they are $7 a pound (already shelled)! So Gramma stopped and the world wept. She tried to make it up by sending baklava. It worked. The masses were placated, but a secret part of us yearned for the gooey goodness of turtles. And baklava. And fried squash. (Hey, it's Christmas, right?) Anyway, I am taking my life into my own hands and deciding to make my own turtles. I figure as long as nothing gets burned, we should be able to salvage most of it. It will never be as good as Gramma's (nothing ever is. I miss your fried squash, Gramma! Mine never turns out as good), but at least we tried.