Untitled

6/2/2012

 

The best of the day

Warm sun

Hot cocoa

If they could be one

Like an adventure

In the comfort of home

To be in your...

Ah--Presence

Yes, presence.

Remind yourself

Blind yourself

Bind yourself

Oh, but to be in your...

Mm--Presence

The best of night

Cozy comforter

Hallway light

If they could be forever

To be like home

Gone on adventure

A Midsummer Night Dream

7/14/12 This is one of my favorite dreams I've ever had, It was so real, yet surreal. It makes me want to base a novel or series on it. If only I could be this creative while awake. If it has some symbolic meaning, it beats the hell out of me what it is. I was probably just binge-reading Terry Pratchett novels again.

 
It's my birthday. About 10 of my friends are gathered in the barn, lit only by the colored lights on lines, zig-zagging across the walls and ceiling. It was so nice of Eoin to put all this together for me, I think as I survey the room. A lovely selection of traditional party fare is spread out against the upper wall of the lower aspect of the L-shaped barn. The tablecloth somehow contrives to hide many boxes, arranged on the table to make a nice multilevel effect, the better to display the food. There might be music playing but I hardly notice, engaged as I am in watching my friends interact. Is it odd that I should stand separate at my own birthday bash? Shouldn't I mingle with my friends? Eventually I'll talk to them each individually, but for now I take great pleasure in just watching them enjoy each other. This moment of contentment is crudely interrupted by the entrance of someone whom no one notices but I. If you could see her, you would swear no woman lives as beautiful as this tall, buxom brunette. One by one, her siren sisters materialize out of the air or walk through the walls of the barn, until my friends are outnumbered by these blazing beauties. Still, no one takes notice but I. I shuffle nervously over to Eoin. "E, what are they doing here around the humans?!" Eoin looks sheepish, but before he can answer, the first belle says, "Don't worry, dear, none of them can see us. Remember, the things in our heads? You don't think we'd miss your birthday?" My face assumes a resigned countenance and I glance around urgently. Good, no one saw me talking to someone who isn't there. It just looked like I was talking only to Eoin. However, this is likely because, in the darkest corner of the barn, one of the siren sisters is flinging Mardi Gras beads around her head. While the guests might not see her, they certainly see these apparently disembodied beads. Now another and another of the lovely ladies join in this fun, whirling the beads around their necks and arms like hula hoops, until the barn is practically filled with beads seeming to spin themselves erratically around. The guests are filled with wonder, showing plainly on their bewildered faces. Some seek strings or some other mechanism by which this magic might occur. Most simply watch the spectacle in bewilderment. One shouts, "Wow! Good show y'all! How'd you do that?!" Before I can think of some excuse, I notice that there's a rather tall prone man growing out of the ground at my feet. In fact, he's no man, but an elf, and he's not so much growing out of the ground as arising. Just now only his face and toes are above the sod surface, but he smiles at me with his cat-like countenance, and says in voice smooth like skipping stones but strangely hollow, "Hello, lovely lady. I heard it is your birthday." Now his shoulder-length blonde hair is above the surface, now his whole being, and now he stands, even taller than Eoin's 6'3" frame. This is even worse than the gaggle of gorgeous women. His elven brethren are popping out of the ground all around us like dragon teeth warriors and, while elves are generally friendly, they don't really understand how their mischief can affect mortals. Oh my, well, at least the humans can't see them either, and perhaps the sirens will keep them busy. At this point, the barn is nearly full to capacity. Not that the humans notice, not having left their corner by the food. Nor do they seem to notice my distress as I glare anxiously around the barn at my supernatural guests. I turn around to join my human companions and there, standing as tall as any elf, is a giant pink anthro-rabbit. "Harvey! What are you doing here?" Ironically, the humans can see Harvey and they all rush over to check out his "suit". Harvey, of course, stands mute while they rudely examine his ears, whiskers, paws, tail. Embarrassed, I usher him over to the refreshments, hoping -correctly- that they won't follow. Behind me, I hear one of the guests ask Eoin, "Dude, why'd you hire a dude in a bunny suit?" I think Eoin makes some excuse about not having planned it and "You know how hippies are. He probably just thought it would be cool," even though Eoin knows full well the pink fur is no artifice. Before I have time to get my story straight in my head about Harvey, I turn towards a high, papery voice arguing with Eoin. Oh no. It's Johnny the Homicidal Maniac... in 2D black and white. I really don't know how to explain this. I guess I'll just tell my friends he's just very pale, very thin, and very short. Maybe I can make up some disease to explain it. Goodness, I hope he doesn't kill anyone. To forestall this unfortunate likelihood, I rush over and, not even knowing what is wrong, immediately begin the litany, "I'm so sorry Johnny. What can I do? Are you alright? I'm so very sorry, Johnny. It's okay. They're just humans. Yes, I know, they don't understand. There there. Maybe you should go home and have a nice laydown. I'll call you when there aren't any humans around." This appeases him and he slips out of the barn -miracle of miracles!- without killing anyone. And now Harvey is the center of attention again, being the most interesting thing the human guests can see. The belles and elves seem to be entertaining each other nicely. Maybe I can finally relax and enjoy my birthday. Alas, all is naught, for I wake up.

Rusty Trees

9/27/2012


The autumn leaves on manicured trees fade red to green, as if their tips were dipped in rust, the better to be seen.

---

It was much better when I wrote it yesterday, but I can't remember what I wrote now, so this is my second string reproduction of inspiration gained and lost. =( ::sigh:: When God calls, answer right away and don't just tell Him you'll call Him back later!

What doesn't bend breaks

1/4/13 Observing the trees in front of my office. This was not the original version of this but I couldn't remember what I had originally thought by the time I got a chance to write it down. I love the description "windblown and unbroken". The rest of the words only exist so that those can.

Graceful evergreens grow westward, swooping towards the setting sun.
Windblown and unbroken, bending gently, every one.

The Birds and the Bees

As you may know from my last post, I will be resurrecting some blogs from the old MySpace. This is the first of my adventures back in time. The posts here will have the same titles as the orinial MySpace posts. I will preface each with the original posting date and probably a brief word on what I think of it in retrospect.

This entry is from 5/31/2013. The "poem" is down right terrible, although I still personally relate to the nostalgic images of a better time long gone. However, I like the thoughts that follow the poem, which might not make much sense out of context. In case you haven't noticed yet, my favorite subject is SYNCHRONICITY! This entry offers a good example of how, sometimes, things happen for reasons other than what you might have originally intended. In this case, I wrote a poem not for the sake of beauty but because it helped me realize how to help my friend.

When I was younger
My mom made the car dance
And we didn't talk of tire tread

When I was younger
Ladybugs hitchhiked hence
Carried carefully on my head

When I was younger
Strawberries were sweet
And sold at county fairs

When I was younger
My friends were afraid of bees
Because they ruled earth and air

When I was younger
The lake was a brief vacation
For the swans on migration

When I was younger
You could see at night
By the firefly light

When I was younger
Everything was a painting
It was all poetry

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

So, this is my second attempt at posting this. In my last attempt I wrote (to the best of my recollection):
"Not what I was looking for. I was trying to be less structured, but my mind instantly saw the patterns and wanted to put them in order, to twist the portions to fit the pattern.
I think words have a mind of their own. I think words want to be in order aesthetically. I think words are offended when not arranged carefully."

The irony of this is that what allowed me to remember what I had written after it was erased was the relationship between the words. The very structure I was fighting is what allowed me to resurrect it. Aha! And now I know how to help someone I know for whom I previously had nothing useful to say regarding the problematic situation! Blessed serendipity!

Back to the work at hand, it might yet be a good base idea. Sometimes I write something terrible but come back to it later and write something better. It does at least convey what I want it to say.

Sometimes the way to say more is to say less, let the others fill in the rest.

So that was that. Hopefully tomorrow I'll have something better to share with you. But this does have deep personal meaning for me. It is not only a longing for my youth, when I didn't have to worry about wear and tear on tires and tie rods. It is also an expression of the desperation with which I view the apparent destruction of my world. The bees, the fireflies, the ladybugs are all disappearing. The strawberries are sour because they have all had the sweetness bred out of them in favor of looking plump and red when they finally make it to your grocery store from God knows where. The famous Pungo Strawberry Festival is a disgusting mockery of our once great agricultural heritage. Last time we went there was only ONE vendor with anything even relating to strawberries. Day by day, year by year, I watch our agricultural land destroyed and replaced with Walmarts and McMansions as the increasingly imaginary "green line" gets pushed further and further south. I see the Sunsations invading the Outer Banks. I see our local culture disintegrate, as the Jewish Mother, The Heritage, the 31st St park are all sacrificed to the "if you build it, they will come" catering-to-imaginary-wealthy-people-over-the-REAL-interests-of-the-community school of thought that reigns supreme on the City Council. Finally, it is about the death of a spirit. The death of the ability to see the magic in every moment. I don't see dragons anymore.

Faithful and Fearless

Prepare yourselves blogosphere! I just got the download of my old MySpace blogs and will be posting most of the content on -hopefully- a daily basis!

PS Faithful and Fearless, the title of this post, was my screen name on MySpace. It is also the attitude I try to abide by on the daily! What is/would be your epithet or motto for adopting a positive daily outlook? Let me know in the comments!

Haunted Honey

My honey jar is haunted
By the ghosts of ants gone by.
Their phantoms scurry past
But then elude my eye.

Is it guilt at selfish massacre
Of my insect brethren that I see?
Or is it their simple vengeance
That they return to haunt my honey?

Visions

Oh where to begin? I suppose the beginning was when I met a healer, an intutive, an energy worker. Let's call her S. I confided in S that I felt like my spiritual practice had stagnated, that it was time for me to grow but I knew not in which direction. As my friend Conrad says, we often don't know what we don't know. I asked S to point me in the right direction.  A book to read, a practice to research. Well she definitely called and raised me! (In the poker sense, not necessarily in the Jesus sense. Haha) S said she had never taken students before but lots of people had been asking for her to teach them recently. So I said maybe we were both being called. (This time in the Jesus sense, not the poker sense! ) I got a free Tarot reading for my birthday not long after that. (Who Reads for the Reader? Tarot.com if you were wondering. I promise I'm not being paid to say so, I just like them.) The reading confirmed that I was embarking on a new path, it was time for me to be a student again. Unfortunately, the whole business stalled very shortly afterwards and I began to suspect that the Universe was not conspiring as much in my favor as I expected. I began to think I would be stuck in this rut for the forseeable future. Don't get me wrong, reading Tarot is a great blessing. However I haven't had a client in months other than one pro bono quickie for a friend. More importantly, I felt I was no longer growing spiritually and what doesn't grow is not alive. I was beginning to feel dead inside. I was becoming angry and morose. But I kept reminding myself of the Teachings, the Mysteries every day. When the baby cried, when my husband ignored me, when a friend betrayed me, when writer's block had me feeling like a failure, when I was beset with problems so distressing that they cannot find a home in this blog I've set aside as positive space, I would tell myself the Truth. This will pass, God is using this for the Greater Good, God provides exactly what you need, I am blessed abundantly, God's standards of good and bad are not the same as what we find pleasing, in fact, bad does not exist. Now, as I'm sure you know from experience, this is cold comfort and hard to know in your heart while in the thick of it, but it did keep me grounded enough to not lose perspective so entirely that I went off the deep end. I'm pretty sure that led directly to what happened tonight. If you've read my blog before, you know that I believe God speaks in whispers rather than tornados whenever possible; miracles (God's Will) are found in every day synchronicities, not only in the splitting of seas. Well, tonight I was meant to have a much anticipated night out with a friend.  No small feat when you have a baby, a husband who works 12 hour days 7 days a week, and no family in town to babysit. Well, her husband came home from work unexpectedly and she cancelled on me. BUT a different friend called because my husband put his foot in his mouth* and told her husband that she and I were supposed to hang out tonight. (Long boring story of why he thought that and why we weren't. She got it, you don't need to. Haha.) So that wasn't a huge miracle but it was the exact miracle I needed! (Because let me tell you, if you spend all day every day alone in the house with a baby and dog who cannot have what could conventionally be called "a conversation" with you, you will start to go a bit batty.) Now, as is my wont, I have taken months (in story-time) to get to the point, because that's how life works, so that's how I write. The point is that the ability to let go of my disappointments and obstacles and trust God put me in the place where I could go with the Flow. That's the only way to describe the feeling of being caught in God's slip stream, knowing exactly what you're supposed to do. While I lay on the floor next to my son's crib after I put him down to sleep, I got a vision**. A large, intimidating animal was racing towards me at a gallop. I thought it was a rhinoceros. I was afraid. But as it approached I realized that it was running to me rather than at me. It was a rhinoceros but it was also a horse and it was also a dog. I don't mean it was some strange pseudo-Sphynxian chimera. It was the essence of these animals. And it was my friend. I knew then that I was being both prepared and protected. That I didn't need to worry, something beautiful is coming. Later on in the night I learned on Facebook that some acquaintances (a married couple) are dealing with an illness in one of them. As I was praying for them, I got another vision. (Which I won't detail here out of respect for it and those for whom it was meant.) When I messaged her about it she confirmed that it resonated with her in a very particular way. This was amazing for multiple reasons:
1. It is a blessing to bless others, to bring them hope and solace!
2. It is always awe-some to be aware of the presence of God!
3. By just going with the Flow and being quiet with God I found I could do what I thought I needed to pay S to teach me! (Don't get me wrong, I still might. I'm sure I can learn a lot from her! And just this week I saw her for the first time in months, so maybe the time is ripe. But, point being, I feel out of the rut!)
4. It inspired me to write this blog, thus overcoming my writer's block and feeling a bit better about myself! Even if I am pretty rusty. :)

I realize my style is verbose and convoluted so, to be plain, the morals of this story are:
1. Always make room for God even, no, ESPECIALLY, when your heart is full of fear, anger, or doubt. If you have to, "fake it 'til ya make it."
2. All wisdom is accessible to anyone by simply being still enough to hear God whisper, to watch God work.
3. We are truly blessed to have technology that allows us to minister to and be ministered to with people who would otherwise be totally unavailable to us!
4. As always, the final moral is that small miracles are still miracles! God wants you to know that (S)He is at work in your life!

How is God working in your life? Comment, let's talk about it! No one is an island and we are God's hands! God has given us to seek and share Fellowship!

*Upon rereading this post I realized I made two comments about my hubby that could be construed as unflattering. I would like to clarify that I have never met anyone more honest, more hardworking, or with more integrity. He is an amazing husband and father who cares deeply about his family. I am unbearably in love with him and more grateful than words can describe that God blessed me with him and that he thinks I'm ok enough to be his lady/baby-mama. :)
** I feel the need to explain that when I say "vision" I don't mean some trippy psychadelic experience in which I hallucinate that there is actually a rhinoceros in my son's room running towards me. (Maybe getting his horn caught on the crib? Haha.) It's more like a dream but while awake and aware that it's not "real". And a special feeling... I can only call it the Holy Spirit, because I don't know what else it would be or what else to call it.

Autumn Thoughts

1. The mist soaks through my boots
Presumably through osmosis
And it creeps into my bones
Where my soul lives

2. I hear the tip pitter tap patter
Of dry leaves brushing gravel
But it is my black beauty
Clattering on dog claws

3. The season is palpable
In the warm cold air
In the glowing face of the full moon
In the glimmer in my partner's eyes

According to Tarot.com, tonight the full moon is in Taurus, allowing us to clearly see the beauty in things. Maybe it's just because I read about it this morning, but this has definitely been true for me today. At BJ's, Elijah became engrossed watching this giant mechanical nutcracker "play" a little drum. Usually that would creep me out something fierce; I hate animated inanimate objects. Today I was able to see it through a child's eyes, fascinating and wonderful. When I was driving home I saw beauty in a MOST unexpected place. You know how there's that part of your mind that thinks thoughts before the rest of your mind has the chance to catch up and be rational? That part of my mind thought, "What a lovely stained glass window!" before the rest of my mind caught up and said, "That's the Burger King sign as seen through the branches of a tree, Captain Oblivious." I felt really stupid at first and a bit miffed by being taken by surprise by such a mundane, even disliked, object. But then I realized it's just like God. Beauty, like God, is in every thing, even things we don't like. Because we have the "second thoughts" the "observer," who places limits on our unfiltered perception, we are so often unable to see it but there It is regardless.

Have you found God, Beauty, or any other wonderful thing in life in an unexpected way?

The Eggplant Sandwiches of my Dreams

I had a dream recently that my mother and I were in the kitchen cooking. She was making eggplant sandwiches and I was making cheese sauce, which was getting all over the place! I have no idea what the dream is supposed to mean symbolically (maybe that my motherly side is of substance, while my childlike side is like character junk food?), but I woke up with the compulsion to make eggplant sandwiches. Let me clarify that I do not mean some eggplant between slices of bread. Rather, the eggplant substitutes the bread. And it's battered and fried. Is your mouth watering yet? In between the succulent yet crispy eggplant slices is gooey mozzarella cheese and savory prosciutto with sweet and spicy marinara sauce. If your mouth isn't watering now, check your pulse, you're dead. There was one obstacle in my way to preparing this delicious dish. (And for once it wasn't funds!) I have no idea how to cook eggplant, let alone batter it. So I did what any reasonable Tech Gen-er does, I asked my Facebook friends. And then I posted pictures of the result. And then people wanted the recipe. So here, by popular demand (sort of) is the recipe for eggplant sandwiches. It's stupid easy. Serves 2. Prep and cook time about 20 min.

 Eggplant Sandwiches over Pasta Marinara

 You will need:
A big ass pan. Mine is like 12" in diameter
A small sauce pot
A medium pot
A sharp knife, a large-ish spoon, a fork
A large colander
A small colander or steamer basket
A small bowl
Tomato sauce
A large-ish eggplant
Two eggs
Some flour
Some sort of pasta. I used fettuccine but linguini or spaghetti would be fine. 
Some fresh kale (I used three leaves of the dark green curly-leafed kale, but kale is something you want to use to taste. Fresh spinach would be a good substitute. You could also add 2 or 3 mushrooms.)
Italian spices
Salt
Pepper
Garlic powder
Half an onion
Olive oil
Mozzarella cheese rolled up with proscuitto (You can skip the prosciutto if it's prohibitively expensive for you or want to go vegetarian with it. It doesn't make a huge difference. Don't buy that crap shredded "mozzarella" in the bag though. It's bad for you and it sucks.)
Grated Parmesean cheese
I know that looks like a lot of stuff but it's really not. Trust me, I'm a doctor. No, I'm not, actually; that's an even better reason to trust me. [Dah-DUM-Schi]

1.  Go ahead and get out all your pots and pan; it's just easier this way.
2. Cut the eggplant in slices about 3/4 in. thick and remove the peel. You'll need eight slices. My friend told me to salt them and put them in a paper towel to soak up the excess moisture but that sounded like a time-consuming pain in the ass, so I didn't and they turned out great. Oh yeah, chop up that half onion now too.
3. Crack a couple eggs and scramble them. Get out your flour.
4. With a spoon or your fingers, sprinkle a layer of flour on the eggplant slices, flip and repeat.
5. Grab that egg and spoon it out onto the slices. This is sort of a pain. It will get everywhere. You'll have to smear it around with the back of the spoon. Then you'll get tired of that and just use your hands. Theoretically, you could just dunk the slices into the egg but I figured this would get the flour everywhere. Ask someone smarter than me about that, I guess. Flip slices and repeat.
6. Repeat the flour step. Flip, repeat.
7. Coat your pan with a medium-thickness layer of olive oil and turn the burner on medium. Throw in that onion.
8. Pour your sauce into the small pot and turn on medium-low.
9. Your oil is ready to throw the eggplant on when you sprinkle some water in and it spatters.
10. Place the eggplant slices in a single layer in the hot oil. Be careful or you'll lose your eyes! Don't bother moving the onion out of the way, it will stick to your eggplant slices and will taste delicious! Turn the heat down to medium-low.
11. Sprinkle a thin layer of salt, pepper, and garlic on the top side of the eggplant slices.
12. Throw some Italian spices in with the sauce (to taste) and cover, stirring occasionally.
13. Put the pasta water on to boil (high heat). Use the small colander or steamer basket to steam the kale over the pot. Cover the pot. Throw the pasta in when it starts to boil (turn the heat down a little).
13. Flip the eggplant slices when the bottom side is golden brown and it looks like they're starting to get mushy, but not all the way through. You might have to shuffle them around a bit; if your pan is warped at all it won't heat evenly and some slices will cook faster than others. The middle will always cook fastest, so you'll want to swap that one with the one from the coolest part of the pan (the least brown slice). After flipping, do a very light dusting of the salt, pepper, and garlic powder.
14. When the kale loses crispness, but is not yet soggy, take it out of the steamer and throw it in with the pasta sauce. Now is also a good time to throw in your mushrooms, if you so choose. Please don't forget to wash them and chop them into slices about 1 cm thick.
15. Your eggplant is done when the new bottom side is golden brown. Identify which slices are a similar size and shape. Slice the mozzarella (about 1 cm thickness) and place in a single layer on four of the slices, top with the corresponding piece. Cover if you have a lid big enough. Turn off the burner (or put to lowest setting for gas burners).
16. Your sauce and pasta should be done by now. Turn the sauce off, give it a good stir. Drain the pasta.
17. Flip your little sandwiches and cover again.
18. Plate your pasta, spoon sauce over it, leaving a small amount in the pot. Dust with generous amount of Parmesean.
19. Place your sandwiches on top of the pasta, and spoon remaining sauce over them. I originially envisioned the sauce between the slices rather than on top, but I think that would interfere with the mozzarella melting and sticking the slices together.
20. Enjoy with a glass of red. I had Shiraz Cabernet, but could have gone for something a little lighter.

BONUS RECIPE!
Cheap chicken soup from scratch.
1. Buy a rotisserie chicken.
2. Eat it until you can't stand it.
3. Put the dessicated carcass in a big ass pot and completely cover with water, simmer on medium-low for, like, ever.
4. Throw in whatever random veggies and starches you have laying around the house.
5. Add a carton of chicken broth.
6. Simmer it for another eternity.
7. Take out all the bones.
8. Delicious.
9. You'll have tons left over unless you throw a party. Freeze that shit.