Feast Your Eyes on Our Feast

We show up to our friends house to feast.


We know we are in for a blazing treat.


We spy our chef commanding the kitchen stage by stomping his feet.


We run to the table and scramble to our seats.


We sing "Grace"! in unison to give thanks for this amazing retreat.


We are delighted by the simplest dishes, our taste buds accede.


We devour everything, pouring and splashing, leaving nothing neat.


We stay amused by the company we keep.


We talk of fun times and try to recall screaming, "how did we meet"?


We scavenge and scoop and dip and dig as our spoons meet.


We cheer and clank and chatter on about what is still to achieve.


We cherish the sounds that abound as roosters and mules greet.


We never resolve to stay polite, and instead find each our own soap box speech.


We wander away upstairs in search of some quiet relief.


We spy the powder room mirror to see what might remain in our teeth.


We realize the bed is calling us over to carry us to sleep.


We cheek kiss and bear hug, and grab our keys.


We head out the gate, so thankful we found all that we came to seek.



Metal Art Work: Mark Silka

A Big Beautiful Bowl and Rolls of Fun

Ha!
Whether you choose the rough and tough, cheap stuff, or the squeezeably soft fluffy stuff.... Where and how do you keep it?
Do you hide it?
Do you stuff it away, out of the way?
...way up high and dry, or down low?
Do you have one roll on the spin, and another atop the tank?
Does it wear a disguise?
Do you keep it under wraps?
What does this say about You and Me and those other guys?

I like mine where all can see it and reach it, with out any excuse:

Last Christmas eve, there was a little gag gift poised proudly on the porcelain tank.
The "John Wayne Rough and Tough stuff", sand paper as such, sent all the way from the dusty trails Moab, ... given as "Thanks".
Hubby named Jon Wang, wears it vain, and answers to the 'Pilgrim' on any given day.
Gentle pokes from friendly folks, are better than Spanks either way.

"You're out"!"You're out"!
...we heard the alarm, my nervous Mother-in-law chanted in a shout.
We did not jump, we did not check, no fear...
there was a pile of paper, waiting right near.
"I did it"..."I did it"...she claimed with cheer.
"No whoop"...we all thought, it was so obvious and clear!

Next morning, stumbling around, cleaning up and picking up and putting stuff back...
I heard my Self screaming ..."John Wayne has been Hijacked"!
Where could he be?...
Still, there remained, a clean and untouched paper roll stack.
Who would take him? A bruise to our humor; such a brutal attack.
We made many calls, to brothers and sisters and friends and all that.
Gasps and Oh-no's abound but, no takers nor give backs.
Everyone claimed, "It must have been that woman acting like "Mrs. Claus"!
Then she walked in, bright and cheery and here for more fun.
We gave her the 'stink eye' ...we knew she was at fault and savored our cause.
We asked her in the most subtle way, and she just fell blank.
She stumbled and stared, she shrunk in her boots.
She opened her mouth and nothing came out.
Her eyes opened wide, and then narrowed down.
.. still we waited for anything however, not even a 'toot'!
But, it seems 'denial' is a forever long road, with a circular round-about.
We served her coffee hot, her eggs soft,
and bacon crispy but not burnt, on the side.
She continued to eat, avoiding our eyes.
We know who you are Lady and we know what you've done.
We will never forget but, we may let it slide.



Moral of this story: Keep it clean. Keep it cute. Keep it close.
...and at all costs, always forgive your Mother-in-Law, let her remain 'Mrs. Claus'.

Summer Surrender Salad

Summer Surrender:
I am a devoted to my local Farmer's market. I claim it as my church going experience. It gives me every thing I need to get me through the week. It nourishes my heart, body, mind and spirit. It teaches me patience and prosperity, both. It allows me to take what I need, and leave the rest. This September has been the most inspirational so far.
I recently made an attempt to share of my sweet success, and was curiously met with resistance.
Invited to an evening spread poolside, by a gathering of men who go out to sea, catch their dinner, and drag it back home to start a fire. My kind of guys! I so proudly offered up my 'fruit salad'...and was snubbed. I let it pass, and pursued again after the four fish menu, the fresh greens with garlic; no takers. Again, I pushed for it, passing it as desert; instead they took to the chocolate. Finally, after many long pauses and guilty glances, I served myself, and dug in deep and shoveled a high pile on my plate. I noticed on lookers, and took another pounce. One by one, each in line waiting to see that the first guy did not die. The look of surprise. Tongues dancing. Seconds were requested straight away, with sheepish smiles, and then thirds dumped directly from the bowl; there was nothing left. A proud moment. A milestone for taste buds all around. Surrender they did, to the sweet flavors of post Summer in September. So, I share...
+White peaches, White nectarines, Yellow peaches, plums, and sometimes Figs too.
+Squeeze the ugliest, sweetest little orange you can find, season with Sea salt and Tumeric.
+Sprinkle with fresh Mint: chocolate, and Basil: lemon...stir and let sit. Enjoy

Call the Navy

Call the Navy, I am swimming in a sea of tears.
Surviving the annual Family vacation, is becoming a more interesting challenge as the years continue. My saving grace is the like minded few that can catch a wink from across the room.
...And a quick escape route with a solid excuse, and a return ticket to show a hint of graciousness, so that not to totally discredit the experience. Being trapped for a week with a dozen people can be loads of fun. The kids like to have that many eyes and ears surrounding them, laps and hands holding them. Tongues tend to be sharp, nerves tender, ears blocked, heavy lids, dull smiles, all encapsulated into slow moving zombie bodies. On cue, I hop in the passenger seat of another like minded member. We speed away under the radar detectors, through barricades, passed sitting ducks, until I am delivered to my rightful driveway. We work with joy and efficiency, whistling away a couple of precious days. Done. Refreshed and on the road again. We arrive to a delightful house hold, with stories of triumphs and drama, survival and satiation, we are lost.