That’s right. I’ve been blogging here for 9 years now, and last month I missed my blog’s birthday. So Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day, blog, and happy damn birthday. I didn’t get you anything.
xoxoxooxoxooxoxx
wm
“…put your toothbrush/on your mouth/put your toothbrush/on your mouth…”
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
“The Sunlight on the Garden”
Louis MacNeice
“The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.
Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.
The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying
And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.”
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
This first ran in 2011. Cool footage of my old stomping grounds. Glad for the critters and fish, flora and fauna that no one’s stomping there now but the people who are fixing the damage to their space. Aho!
It’s been snowing like mad here the past two days, so that means cooking and reading. And reading about cooking :)
Yesterday I baked Russian Teacakes (in honor of the snow and the Olympics), red beans & rice (and cornbread, of course) and made the batter for gingerbread pancakes. We’ll have breakfast around noon, when the kids get up. That’s just a guess :)
Bon appetit and happy weekend to you, book lovers…
xo
wm
“Well, but it’s not as good a story if you dumped her. That’s how I remember things, anyway. I remember stories. I connect the dots and then out of that comes a story. And the dots that don’t fit into the story just slide away, maybe. Like when you spot a constellation. You look up and you don’t see all the stars. All the stars just look like the big fugging random mess that they are. But you want to see shapes; you want to see stories, so you pick them out of the sky. Hassan told me once you think like that, too — that you see connections everywhere — so you’re a natural born storyteller, it turns out.” — from “An Abundance of Katherines”
“A word after a word after a word is power.” — Margaret Atwood, poet and novelist (b. 1939)
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
(from “The Habits Of Supremely Happy People” — by Kate Bratskeir — Huffington Post)
“They cultivate resilience. According to psychologist Peter Kramer, resilience, not happiness, is the opposite of depression: Happy people know how to bounce back from failure. Resilience is like a padding for the inevitable hardship human beings are bound to face. As the Japanese proverb goes, ‘Fall seven times and stand up eight.'”
Today? Gub-Gub Brownies! They’re good. It’s my Dear Late Granny’s recipe, but with brown sugar instead of white (gub-gub). Who knows where her recipe is, I swear I’ve posted it, but I look for it and it is not there. Go buy her book if you want it. Also, cheesey tortellini. So frickin’ good. And… soup.
Because that’s all I ever want. I used the Barefoot Contessa’s recipe, but with fewer onions. PS next year I will have been blogging here for nine years what the what the? True story. (That’s the sixth blog post i ever wrote. Am fond of it.)
Bon appetit, babies!
— wm
Man, do I love biographies. I’m reading now, don’t bug me.
The End
(Photo by Steve Rawley)
Here you go… just in case you missed this when it first ran.
“Video games and
cookies and hot chocolate
It might even snow!”
“Christmas time is here
It might not snow at all, but
We can still rejoice!”
— Christmas haikus from Elf on a Shelf, shortly before he was slain by his bitter enemy, Shelf Monkey
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