Today is Poetry Wednesday at The Write Prompts, and the assigned form is haiku. I decided I could manage haiku this morning — just seventeen syllables (if you disregard the finer points of the form, which I did.)
the winter wind howls
down the valley as it leaves
toothmarks on my neck
Posted in Poetry
Tagged prompted poetry, The Write Prompts, writing practice, writing prompts
If you thought I might have dropped off a cliff in November, you didn’t miss the mark by much. I had a major project due in early December and another in mid-January, which was truly horrible timing, what with all the folderol and family drama of the holidays. I’ve had neither time nor brain cells to devote to much else, but now that both the projects and the holidays are behind me, I hope to return in some degree to my former life. This is a photo post (even though I am a poor photographer) but I consider it a step back toward blogging and the other things I was doing two months ago.
When my children were very young, we began a tradition of celebrating Dr. King’s birthday like he was a member of the family. We would bake and decorate a cake, put candles on it, and sing “Happy Birthday” to him.
Every year we try to find a different variation of the chocolate-and-vanilla theme, and this year we decided to go with a brownie/blondie combination.
They were delicious and we had fun making them together. We’ve already started talking about what we’ll do for next year.
Happy birthday, Dr. King! And may we continue to celebrate your vision for many years to come!
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged baking, birthdays, children, family celebrations, Martin Luther King Jr., MLK Day
When I promised the kids we could have red beans and rice for supper one day last week, I knew I would have to make another batch of chili sauce, as I had used the last of it for sloppy joes a month or more ago. And this time I remembered to take a few photos so I could post about it! (Don’t get your hopes up about the photos, though.)
I inherited this recipe from Gertrude Sorenson, my father-in-law’s mother. My copy is written in her own hand, and occupies the place of honor in the lid of my fabulous see-through recipe box.
According to the notes on the back of the card, Grandma Gert got this recipe from her dear friend Marge Hintz in 1983; she copied it for me on April 7, 1993.
In keeping with my long-standing view of recipes as texts to be interpreted, I have adapted this recipe to fit the circumstances of my own life, though I did follow the recipe faithfully several times first; one must have a good grasp of the text before one can do it justice in translation. Grandma used fresh peppers and onions, for example, and a hand-cranked grinder (the kind that fastens to a counter or table top with a screw) to process the vegetables. I own one of these, thanks to the Goodwill, but usually opt for the immersible blender as quicker and with less clean up. Next time, I’ll see if the food processor gives it a chunkier texture, more like Grandma’s.
Here’s what it looked like before cooking:
That’s still a bit too chunky. Here’s what it looked like after cooking and blending (a little too pureed):
I also use less sugar (no doubt violating some essential laws of canning) and diced tomatoes instead of plum tomatoes with basil (maybe I should add a little basil to account for this). Here is my adapted recipe; Grandma Gert’s original is below.
21st Century Winter Chili Sauce
4 c canned petite diced tomatoes
3 c frozen chopped green pepper
2-1/2 c frozen chopped onion
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground cloves
3/4 c sugar
3/4 c cider vinegar
1 tsp cinnamon
Combine ingredients in large pot. (If desired, pulse in food processor first to desired consistency.) Bring to low boil and simmer one hour. (If using immersible blender, blend to desired consistency.) Pour into sterilized jars and cover with sterilized lids, as for jam or preserves. (Follow recommended food safety regimen du jour.) Makes approx. one gallon total.
Part of this batch went directly into the red beans and rice, so I didn’t have enough for four quart jars. If I remember to take pictures next time, I’ll update this post, assuming also that the batch turns out well.
Here’s the original recipe:
Winter Chili Sauce
1 large (35 oz.) can Italian (plum) tomatoes (with basil)
3 peppers
5 onions
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cloves1 cup sugar
3/4 cut vinegar
1 tsp cinnamon
Remove basil from tomatoes. Grind vegetables, add other ingredients. Boil slowly one hour. Pour into sterilized jars.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged family recipes, Gertrude Sorenson, Grandma Gert, recipes, winter chili sauce
This may be more of an echo than a riff, as much of the wording matches that of the poem that inspired it, Roxi St. Clair’s “Pushing Up Daisies.” Please visit her site to read her original poem. I give Roxi full credit for the word choice here; I merely tinkered with the arrangement. I especially love her use of the word “ogham.”
Daisies
I lie beneath the weather
beaten and faded
with each season passing nobody
knows me but I
know every time footsteps sound
above my joy
trembles with yearning for this
glimpse of presence
enclosed my spirit loses
the meaning of its blossoming
in this dark place as roots
till the soil I no longer stir
to mimic life
on rainy days you can smell the wet
earth where I live when clouds sob
tears of spring and butterflies
spread sail upon the breeze
I remember the Milky Way
aglow in the heavens and Heaven
too a place that aches with meeting
and parting you can lose
time in a place like that for we dance
briefly on the edge of life like water
drops on the tip of a leaf
but here roots grow die shrivel root
again like fingers marking
the passage of time in oghams
of earth and bone I read in solitude
seasons of seed sprout
bud blossom for you to pluck
their beauty and carry
me through the years
I found this while flipping back through my journal. It seemed particularly apt for All Saints Day/The Day of the Dead, when people of various cultures celebrate the blessed memory of those who have gone before.
Dream life of the dead
what dreams dog the dead
in their eternal sleep?
for even those cut off
by dismembering violence
rest in the end
the dead are not uneasy
but in the imagination of the living
whose envy cannot bear
the thought of such abiding
peace
if the dead stir, they merely telegraph
their dreams in cryptic twitches
and inscrutable murmurs, as sleeping
dogs before the hearth
of a winter’s night
Posted in Poetry
Tagged All Saints Day, Day of the Dead, dreams, poetry practice, prompted poetry, writing practice
This post is something new for me, a photo essay of sorts. I am a rank (as in stinky) amateur when it comes to photography, so don’t go in with high expectations. I do welcome feedback and suggestions, though.
October being my birth month and me being such an arachnophile, I often get spider-themed stuff for my birthday.
This adorable spider balloon, with her fabulous dreds and winsome smile, is floating in my kitchen as I write this, making me giggle every time I see her. The flowers are still going strong, too. The box of cupcakes, barely visible behind the vase, is gone, however.
(Don’t worry; I didn’t eat them all myself. I shared them with the rest of the family. Really, people!)
I also received TWO sets of spider-themed outdoor lights: a light-up spider web and a string of brightly colored spiders (very much like the spiders in a dream I posted about a while back).
The colored spiders are glittery, so they glow even during the day when they aren’t lit.
Not shown is the giant paper spider protectively hovering over her brood of a dozen smaller paper spiders in the foyer. Her 12-foot crepe paper legs span the entire space. (I tried photographing her from several angles without good result.) When my sister asked if I had had a happy birthday, I replied with glee that I had spent the afternoon arachnifying the house.
But all this is merely a cheap and tacky prelude to the true artistry of Mother Nature, as revealed in this morning’s fog:
My home has been well and truly arachnified.
Posted in Essays
Tagged birthdays, Mother Nature, October, photo essay, photography, spiders
As best I can tell, the text for this spam comment was about the spectacularly awful sci-fi/horror flick Maximum Overdrive. I have no idea what language the review was originally written in, but it may well have been auto-translated twice: first out of English into another language and then back again into English. The results are almost as interesting as the film, and mercifully much shorter.
Movie review
caught in the tail of your comet
for a short time all machines have grown
self-aware far from the kingdom
this has bloodstream and guts
ancient American action and grit
at its best
Posted in Poetry
Tagged auto-translation, Maximum Overdrive, spam poetry, writing practice
This is a compost poem because it rose to the top of my mind from I-don’t-know-where. Somewhere, sometime, I heard someone talk about poetry being the product of consistent work rather than the result of accidental inspiration. This is not to say that accidental inspiration can’t be used in a poet’s consistent work, but accident is a pretty poor basis for anything, even a hobby, let alone a career or vocation.
Daily grind
poetry is not lightning
a spinal jolt of plasma that splits open
mind to the sky in random
rare serendipity
poetry is laundry
worn piles that tumble over
and over made fresh by infinite
tedious cycles
Posted in Poetry
Tagged composted poetry, laundry, lightning, poetry practice, writing practice
Poet and photographer Sarah Monagle posted this beautiful photo of a dahlia in response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge, which was “saturated.” Inspired by Sarah’s interpretation — a prompt within a prompt — I penned the following:
The queen of late summer
with a regal nod she drips
living flame from the velvet
tips of her curved corona
Posted in Poetry
Tagged dahlia, photo prompts, prompted poetry, Sarah Monagle, The Daily Post, Weekly Photo Challenge
The following appeared in my spam filter exactly as you see it except for a couple corrections to spelling and capitalization. The line and stanza breaks are also original, as is the title. It’s not particularly good, but the line breaks and some of the syntax suggested poetry to me. Since this kind of thing is auto-generated, it makes me wonder if there’s a spambot out there somewhere developing a poetic sensibility of sorts…
Brilliant Some Ideas
Not to scare you but you already contain chemicals within your very DNA that’ll
illuminate
under the right circumstances and you’d perish terribly without
them. It is termed phosphorus. Additionally you contain
an exploding material and a very deadly gasoline.
That could be sodium and chlorine. Together they make salt.
Which can be what helps to keep you hydrated and helps electrical signals in your system (naturally too much of something can eliminate you) and you’ve however other more terrifying substances in you
also.
Low-voltage outdoor lighting methods are inexpensive to work,
easy to install, safe and movable. Outside lighting additionally deters
crime, and makes jogging through your garden safer during the night.
You have taken out all of the stops to generate your
property and seem first-rate. So why let that hard work vanish at nightfall when,
with a flick off the transition and some smartly put
landscape lights, you can roll-back the night and set it all on display?
Completed right, landscape lighting makes the top of everything you have got by highlighting your home’s architectural functions and drawing
attention to revered plantings and trees.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged artificial intelligence, found poetry, spam, spam poetry, spambot
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