thankful

Today I'm thankful for many things,
like flowers from my neighbor Tammilynne:
a dear, dear friend of seventeen years,
a cohort through many trials and fears.

Life's surprising and one
never knows what will die and what will grow.
The flowers here were volunteers
sprung from a crop that grew and died,
leaving buried seeds behind.

Actions always lead to ends, though
tempted otherwise, don't pretend. Decide
what to stand for, who to love, what to speak out
and what to leave, unsaid, for God above.

refreshing beverage

Here's an idea for a refreshing beverage: club soda + maraschino cherry with a bit of its juice (I used blush cherries from Tuesday Morning, which do not contain red dye and feature Oregon cherries) + a wedge of squeezed lime. Aaah. Refreshing, low-calorie summer delight. Try it.

On an unrelated note, I wanted to recommend a couple of shows that QG and I have recently watched. First is Salamander: a Belgian series with twelve episodes. It is available on instant Netflix now. This is an interesting drama featuring many layers of intrigue. It is well written and reminded me a bit of The Killing, one of our faves fo' sure. Second is True Detective, starring Matthew McConaughey and Woody Harrelson. If nothing else, this series (8 episodes) is worth watching just to study the plot and construction. And then there is the acting. Dang amazing. Love this series, despite its creepiness and occasional harsh violence. Live and let live, that's what I say.

fallen just so

This is a picture I took in May at Koreshan State Park in Estero, Florida: a fascinating place if you ever get the chance to visit. I got mesmerized, snapping about five billion shots, by the dozens of evocative flowers that had fallen haphazardly from the tree above. Something about these two, perhaps their ease together, reminded me of QG and I. Corny, I know. I was pondering every blossom, as if trying to remember something it was hinting at, something mysterious humming beneath the showy surface. Nature is the best teacher, revealing ever more in equal measure to my open heart and palm. 

At length, my daughter had to forcibly drag me away from my precious to head to the car. Apparently, not everyone thinks hovering over a patch of ground for hours is a good time. The upside is that I am a cheap date: forget the fine dining, just take me to a park and let me stare at the ground. 

egg sammie

Toasted English muffin, slice of white American cheese, sprinkle of salt, sliced garden-grown tomato: perfect lunch. 

vegan ice pops

When we were in Baton Rouge recently, we stopped at a great sandwich shop called Street Breads. Walking out after lunch, I was saying to my daughter that I needed a little something sweet when we noticed a gal pushing a popsicle cart across the street. Perfect! We zigzagged our way across the street, dodging cars, to fetch us a treat. They were vegan pops, mostly coconut milk based, which the thirty-ish gal had invented. She said she'd gone to the Dallas Art Institute and had worked in design a few years before deciding to become a titan of the popsicle world. Interesting career choice. The pops were so inspired that I am experimenting with recipes of my own. Here is an easy one I like a lot.

Pineapple Vanilla Ice Pops

1 cup light coconut milk
1 1/2 cups fresh chopped pineapple
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1-3 tablespoons honey, to taste

Throw the above into a blender and then freeze in ice cube trays or small paper cups, inserting a stick into the center when almost frozen solid.

I made some with blueberries instead of pineapple and lemon juice instead of vanilla. Delish!

PS - Happy Fourth of July!

Noodle Hands

I've been thinking about Noodle Hands on a daily basis since my friend told me her story last week. She'd flown in late the previous Saturday, her flight having been delayed several hours, after a week spent at a grueling workshop. Her husband, who she'd called ahead from Seattle to alert to her delayed, starving, and tired state, picked her up from the airport at close to midnight to whisk her home, where she expected to find a cooked dinner or, at least, a sandwich awaiting her. She discovered a fridge devoid of even so much as a slice of bologna: nothing having been bought since her departure seven days prior. Her husband, it seemed, had been struck with a week-long case of severe  "Noodle Hands," wherein, should you raise your hands before you like a puppy begging a treat, your fingers only flop about uselessly, like overdone noodles caught in the breeze. Fortunately, my friend was saved from starvation by a frozen dinner she was able to chisel out of the bottom of her deep freeze.

Noodle Hands is a tragic affliction. Now that I have a name for it, I am noticing it everyplace. Like in the mirror. Today is the day I promised to re-start my blog after my two-month sabbatical (a.k.a.riot of indolence and sloth), so I woke up knowing what I had to do. After all, both of my readers might be checking. Must post. I sat down at my keyboard first thing after coffee to discover my hands were missing their bones. Noooooo. Could I diagnose the cause and recover in time?

Starting a blog is fun because it is a blank slate with no readers and no expectations other than to practice your writing and play with ideas and pictures. Then you do it for a couple of years, conning your relatives and friends into reading it once in a while, and, next thing you know, you are taking yourself way too seriously, worrying about whether you have run out of good posts or might disappoint someone. Like when you learn to ride a bike and are seized by a major "yikes" moment, thinking what if I fall?, when you first apprehend that you are peddling on your own.

Perhaps I over-thought a bit. Over-thinking is my thing, as in nemesis. Whew. In year four of teaching myself to relax, which process the actual blogging has helped a lot with, I've discovered it is insanely helpful, when overwhelmed, to break a task down into parts and tackle them each in turn whilst affecting nonchalance. Open blog, write blog, add picture, post, learn. I really like blogging and want to (nonchalantly) continue.  My new blogging mantra: relax, breathe, try, keep it simple, keep it light.  And that's how I cured myself of Noodle Hands in eight hours or less.

You can, too. If you ever become afflicted, just remember to relax, breathe, try, keep it simple, keep it light. Welcome back to my un-serious blog. Don't expect much and I won't disappoint!