Fashion Fridays

I'm still having fun with the color *yellow* this Spring/Summer.

It's not a color I tend to wear, but it has become such a prevalent accent lately that it's easy to feel fashionable with an inexpensive purchase.

This past week I found a sleeveless polo horizontally striped with yellow, white, and kacky. Now I can mix and match several pants and skirts with this combination and economically update my wardrobe.

I never would have thought to put together yellow and kacky.

What's updating your closet?

Margaritas

5-7 cups crushed ice

3/4 cup (6oz) frozen
limeade concentrate

6 oz tequila
(Cuervo Gold)

2 oz Triple Sec

1-2 T lime juice

Shot of Amaretto
(optional)






In a blender add the above ingredients and whirl until smooth. The blending time depends on how powerful the motor of your blender is :)

Serve in chilled mugs or highballs.   I prefer not to salt the rim of my glass, but some do.  So, do that, if desired, before pouring a generous portion for each of your friends.

Makes enough for three adults.



Oh, and for some reason, it tastes better through a straw.


We had these before our BBQ ribs on Monday.


What's your favorite aperitif?

Family Photographer

It's a big job to rear a family.

Whether you're the parent of one or twenty-one (and anything in between), it's a constant challenge to keep the group cohesive.

While there are many ways to encourage solidarity, allow me to suggest the power of sharing family photos as a possible *gluestick.*






Metaphorically speaking :)




From birthdays to graduation, from weddings to reunions, many of us take pictures.

But what do you do with them?

One of my muse's, Donna at Quiet Life, is quite the photographer. Not only does she share her knowledge with us on her own blog, she's also a contributing writer at the famous site of the Pioneer Woman. I've known her since college when she was head photographer of the college yearbook. Now she's branching out into the bigger world of photographing others and improving her skills by taking workshops. Recently she shared pictures from her local farmers' market. Even now she's thinking ahead and taking a family photo for the Christmas card!

But back to the gluestick.


Here's another photo of our family photographer who received her first camera at age seven.

Self-taught my mother has photographed the family as long as I can remember.

There a funny series of us in front of a camera on a tripod, timer set for the precise moment of portraiture :)

Though what I really want to mention is the way she shares her photos.


They are all
organized and
ready for viewing in albums.

That is a monumental feat.

Worthy of commendation!

I know that too well because most of mine are still sitting in boxes in the basement.

But, no, she doesnt stop with editing, printing, and cataloging.

Sharing is the key.

She makes a family birthday calendar for each of us (six children with spouses and 29 grands!) and gives it at Christmastime.


My father contributes by laminating, collating, and binding.

 At this moment I can glance up at my calendar flipped to May and be reminded that MargaretAnn and James have birthdays this month.


Then she creates her own greeting cards, artistically using her archive of thousands of images. Inside the card you're likely to find a CD containing lots of pictures of yourself with family.



Furthermore, there's an entire hallway of family photos and a family website.

So, when you visit home, there's no question about the roots of the family tree.

Thankfully, all my daughters love taking pictures, too!

I'm looking forward to their glue.

Graduation Speeches

For the past two weekends, we have attended commencement exercises and heard fine speeches.








One of my muse's, Magistramater, recently lamented over the lack of zest in one she had to sit through. But true to her positive nature, she directed us to one worth sharing. It's Neil Postman's, readily available online with permission for others to use it!

In turn, I will highlight what we heard.

The first was at Hillsdale College where former director of the FBI, Louis Freeh, addressed the crowd on the beautiful Saturday afternoon of May 10th, under the pink dogwood tree. More here later...when I find my notes :)

The second was delivered by Bernie Marcus, the chairman of Home Depot and a host of other foundations, on Sunday, May 18th. He gave sound advice to the the Lovett graduates by relating three signficant experiences from his own life: how he handled the disappointment of not getting into medical school; how he turned the lemon of losing his job at age 49 into the lemonade called Home Depot; and the principle of giving back or helping others (actually a faith-based life-long habit modeled in his family).

There were short comments/speeches by others, including mothers, principals, chaplains, and alumni. A couple were worthy of thank-you notes and requests for copies. All this made me try to remember who spoke at my own graduations and what they said.

Since I left high school early, I did not attend my class's graduation, which was held on Sunday, May 30, 1976, at the Cathedral of St Phillip here in Atlanta. I know that Lovett's Chairman of the Board, Richard Denny, was the speaker, but do not have a copy of his address.

Thirty years ago today, I graduated from Hillsdale College and I could recall without help that Frank Shakespeare was the speaker. However, I could not remember his advice. Thanks to the internet and the College's online access to Imprimis' archive, I was able to read his speech The Uncertain World and the Eternal Truths.

Now my scrapbook will be more complete :)

Who spoke at your graduation?

What do you remember?

Beef Barley Soup
















2 tsp olive oil
1 lg onion, chopped
2 carrots, thinly sliced
1 stalk celery, finely chopped
8 oz mushrooms, sliced
1/2 cup pearled barley
6 cups beef stock

Saute veggies on medium heat until golden brown. Stir in barley, and saute 2-3 minutes. Add stock. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 30 mins.



Super easy, super nutritious, I fixed this anytime-soup in about one hour one rainy Sunday afternoon. A week or so later, when we had it again, I had to add more stock. Apparently the barley continues to soak up liquid :) Furthermore, I needed to stretch the soup (for more diners), so I added some leftovers from back of the 'fridge: steak and green beans.

At the second serving, I paired the soup with chipotle hummus and a cucumber salad.

Totally yummy.



Oh, and a glass a Front Porch Cabernet, too. :)

Happy Mothers Day

The second Sunday in May is the Lord's Day like any other first day of the week. But 20th century culturalists label it Mother's Day. *Cringe*

When I awoke I was away from home, in a lake cottage, after a college graduation, far away from my spiritual family, and foregoing corporate worship.

Then I spied this Goose Family.

Cream of Spinach Soup
















1 Tbs Safflower Oil
1 lg white onion, peeled and diced
2 med potatoes, peeled and diced
2 qts chicken stock (veggie would be good, too)
10 oz fresh spinach
1/2 C heavy cream

In a 6 qt stock pot, saute the onions and potatoes until the potatoes soften some. Do not brown. Add 1 1/2 quarts stock; stir well. and then bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes. Add spinach and stir until wilted - only about 1 minute. Remove from heat immediately. Cool slightly. Puree in batches in food processor. Season with salt and pepper, but I did not find this necessary as I used bouillion cubes to make my stock :)

Just before serving add 1/2 cup heavy cream and reheat, but do not boil.

Click here to see the full table setting.

Fashion on Friday

About a month ago, I mentioned how much *Yellow* I saw when I was out shopping with the Bride-elect. And I bragged about not making any purchases, posting a picture of myself in a yellow turtleneck and yellow foral scarf, both found deep within the recesses of my closet.

Today, however, I'm confessing that I succumbed to the popular trend and spent a few dollars.

In a small way.

Since yellow is not an easy color to wear all over, I found myself shying away from the bright lemony yellow dresses, blouses or jackets.

The solution?

Accessorizing!



What else did I wear, you ask?

Brown poplin slacks
Brown patent croc (faux) wedges
Brown/green vertically striped shirt
Brown wooden beaded bracelet


Here's a link to Steinmart's Accessory page with a list for summer necessities.

How do you stay fashionable?

Solitude

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,—
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.


By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
1850 - 1919


"But no man can help you die" is the phrase that jumps out at me this morning. Corey's father (Tongue in Cheek) died yesterday. She's spent the last ninety days blogging about this final journey. She's a wonderful muse. Very artistic.

There are a couple of people I follow like this....

Do you?

Forgetfulness

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses good-bye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.

Billy Collins
1941 -
American Poet Laureate





Ah, this poem is way too a propos for me.....I'm blogging furiously to record life, because I feel like there will be a time when I dont remember.... Then I can clean out closets. In the meantime, I will continue to ignore the mess..



At any rate, if you've made it this far in the post you must click over to the Poetry Out Loud: National Recitation webpage. Scroll down to find last year's winner who recited this delightful poem. On the right his name is Jack Hille from Ohio. I hope you find the time to listen.



This year's competition is taking place today. I'm following the student from Georgia. I read about him in the AJC newspaper.



Reading aloud and poetry are not passe.

Go see!

When Daisies Pied and Violets Blue
by William Shakespeare

When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,



The cuckoo then, on every tree,

Mocks married men;

for thus sings he,

Cuckoo;

Cuckoo, cuckoo:

O, word of fear,

Unpleasing to a married ear!






When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo: O, word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!



These lines, along with their companion piece "When Icicles Hang by the Wall" come at the end of Love's Labour's Lost. The pun on "cuckoo" and "cuckold" is a reminder that the words are related, supposedly because of the behavior of the female bird. (Wm Harmon's comments)


This is my first introduction to this early comedy by Shakespeare. I look forward to reading the play which I *won* in a contest over at Buried Treasure. I correctly guessed a line from Taming of the Shrew :)

Little Giffen

OUT of the focal and foremost fire,
Out of the hospital walls as dire;
Smitten of grape-shot and gangrene,
(Eighteenth battle, and he sixteen!)
Spectre! such as you seldom see,
Little Giffen, of Tennessee!


“Take him and welcome!” the surgeons said;
Little the doctor can help the dead!
So we took him; and brought him where
The balm was sweet in the summer air;
And we laid him down on a wholesome bed,—
Utter Lazarus, heel to head!


And we watched the war with abated breath,—
Skeleton Boy against skeleton Death.
Months of torture, how many such?
Weary weeks of the stick and crutch;
And still a glint of the steel-blue eye
Told of a spirit that would n’t die,


And didn’t. Nay, more! in death’s despite
The crippled skeleton “learned to write.”
“Dear mother,” at first, of course; and then
“Dear captain,” inquiring about the men.
Captain’s answer: “Of eighty-and-five,
Giffen and I are left alive.”


Word of gloom from the war, one day;
Johnson pressed at the front, they say.
Little Giffen was up and away;
A tear—his first—as he bade good-by,
Dimmed the glint of his steel-blue eye.
“I ’ll write, if spared!” There was news of the fight;
But none of Giffen.—He did not write.


I sometimes fancy that, were I king
Of the princely Knights of the Golden Ring,
With the song of the minstrel in mine ear,
And the tender legend that trembles here,
I ’d give the best on his bended knee,
The whitest soul of my chivalry,
For “Little Giffen,” of Tennessee.



by Francis Orray Ticknor
1822 - 1874
Georgia physican and poet


The character, Little Giffen, could easily have been my great-great grandfather, William Ferguson Smith (1845-1912) because he left home for battle as young as Giffen. Providentially spared, he returned to his native Butts County and became a well-respected citizen. In fact, he wrote a book, Rival Lovers: A Story of The War Between the States.

E S P

E S P

"I'm a Pisces, what are you?" she asked. "A Baptist," I replied.

We live in this life in a winter wood.
On each bare tree, and on the vacant-seeming ground
about what leaf, what growth? Eye cannot tell:
by Word, and rare Experience, we know.
"Keep to the path," HE warned us,
"Follow Me." (There are no shortcuts here,
no scenic routes).

In chill of winterness, the safe not-knowing,
suspended growth of demon poison ivy,
thorn and briar,
quicksand, bandit, pitfall, storm or snare
or fears of being lost, present no threat
to our clearcutting eyes.

Our vision wintertime seems clear, if stark.
It isn't that we do not dare believe
in the existence there of things unseen--
but that we fear
our own inexpert, foolish exploration
(they called it "whoring after" in the past)
in ways uncharted, into dells of death ...
The beech that seems to blossom is a wraith;
what look as flowers, but sunlit decay.

Yet in time's grim denouement, blooms will tell:
the crooked leaf, the wakened wasp, the fang...
and we who held the narrow way will tremble
in awe and horror at our near escape,
till safely meadowed, on beyond the Hill.



by Harriet Stovall Kelley
Georgia-born artist and poet


In this third year of highlighting poems in April in honor of National Poetry Month, I've spent more time reading and learning about the writers, authors, and poets from my own state and my own family.

Harriet is my cousin and frightfully creative. I have lifted the artwork from the cover of her originally published booklet The ArctAngel and Other Cold Poems where I found E S P. I must ask her public forgiveness for not knowing enough HTML to indent properly some of the lines of this compelling poem.

But I promise to find out.

While you wait for me to fix that, click over to my Xanga site and view one of her paintings.

The Adoration

If I but had a little dress,
A little dress of the flax so fair
I’d take it from my clothespress
And give it to Him to wear,
To wear,
And give to Him to wear.


If I but had a little girdle
A girdle stained with the purple dye,
Or green as grass or green as myrtle
About His waist to tie,
To tie,
About His waist to tie!


If I but had a little coat,
A coat to fit a no-year old,
I’d button it close about His throat
To cover Him from the cold,
The cold,
To cover Him from the cold.


If I but had a little shoe,
A little shoe as might be found
I’d lace it on with a sheepskin thew
To keep His foot from the ground,
The ground,
To keep His foot from the ground.


If my heart were a shining coin,
A silver coin or a coin of gold
Out of my side I’d it purloin
And give it to Him to hold,
To hold,
And give it to Him to hold.


If my heart were a house also,
A house also with room to spare
I never would suffer my Lord to go
Homeless, but house Him there,
O there,
Homeless, but house Him there.


By Byron Herbert Reece
Georgia author and poet
1917 - 1958


Here's a link to a short biography of Reece, born not too far from where I live. In my research I discovered there's a trail near the AT named after him, a newly formed society to promote his work, and apparent funding to redevelop his farm and stage a heritage center. Even some of his sermon notes!

Sounds like a fun field trip.

Wedding Sermon


"NOW, while she's changing," said the Dean,
"Her bridal for her traveling dress,
I'll preach allegiance to your queen!
Preaching's the thing which I profess;
And one more minute's mine! You know
I've paid my girl a father's debt,
And this last charge is all I owe.
She's yours; but I love more than yet
You can; such fondness only wakes
When time has raised the heart above
The prejudice of youth, which makes
Beauty conditional to love.
Prepare to meet the weak alarms
Of novel nearness; recollect
The eye which magnifies her charms
Is microscopic for defect.
Fear comes at first; but soon, rejoiced,
You'll find your strong and tender loves,
Like holy rocks by Druids poised,
The least force shakes, but none removes.
Her strength is your esteem; beware
Of finding fault; her will's unnerved
By blame; from you 'twould be despair;
But praise that is not quite deserved
Will all her noble nature move
To make your utmost wishes true.
Yet think, while mending thus your Love,
Of matching her ideal too!
The death of nuptial joy is sloth;
To keep your mistress in your wife,
Keep to the very height your oath,
And honor her with arduous life.
Lastly, no personal reverence doff.
Life's all externals unto those
Who pluck the blushing petals off,
To find the secret of the rose. --
How long she's tarrying! Green's Hotel
I'm sure you'll like. The charge is fair,
The wines good. I remember well
I stayed once, with her mother, there.
A tender conscience of her vow
That mother had! She's so like her!"
But Mrs. Fife, much flurried, now
Whispered, "Miss Honor's ready, sir."

Coventry Patmore
English Poet and Critic
1823 - 1896



Thank goodness for witnesses and guests at weddings or the bride and groom might remember nothing. My sister reminded me that our preacher covered I Peter 3:1-7 for our ceremony. Even though it is quite popular today, we're not recording (DVD or audio) our weddings. It makes for better stories :)

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thought that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Rossetti
English Poet
1830 - 1894



When I remember I mostly smile. I think this is a gift from God....for which I am very thankful.

My glass is always half full.

Sad is short-lived.

We Sing to Him

We sing to him whose wisdom form'd the ear.
Our songs, let him who gave us voices, hear.
We joy in God who is the spring of mirth.
Who loves the harmony of heav'n and earth;
Our humble sonnets shall his praise rehearse,
Who is the music of the universe.
And whilst we sing we consecrate our art.
And offer up with ev'ry tongue a heart.







by Henry Purcell
published in 1688

An English composer during the Baroque era, Purcell was considered one of the finest of his time.

This sacred song opened DD#4's voice recital yesterday.

Voice Recital Program



















Well, I cant read that, so I suppose you can either. I will type it in later, as I have run out of time right now.

Hummingbird Cake

For the cake:
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
3 eggs
2 cups granulated sugar
1 1/2 cups vegetable oil
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 whole bananas, sliced & blended with
1 (8-ounce) can crushed pineapple


For the frosting:
1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, room temperature
1 1/2 cups (3 sticks) butter, softened
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 (1-pound) box confectioners' sugar
2 cups chopped pecans, plus 12 pecan halves, toasted


To prepare the cake: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and lightly flour three 8-inch round cake pans. In a bowl, mix flour, baking soda, cinnamon, salt and nutmeg until well-blended; set aside. With an electric mixer, lightly beat eggs. Add sugar, oil and vanilla and blend. Add bananas and pineapple. Gradually add dry ingredients until well-blended. Scrape down sides, if necessary. Pour batter equally into cake pans. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool on rack for 5 to 10 minutes. Remove from pan and let cool completely. Cut cakes in half horizontally to make six layers - optional.

To prepare the frosting: With an electric mixer, beat the cream cheese, butter and vanilla until smooth. Gradually add confectioners' sugar. Scrape down sides and beaters and beat until incorporated. Spread the frosting between each layer, on the sides and on top. Press pecan pieces on sides. Put a circle of pecans halves on outer edges on the top.

Per serving: 823 calories (percent of calories from fat, 60), 6 grams protein, 80 grams carbohydrates, 3 grams fiber, 55 grams fat (17 grams saturated), 97 milligrams cholesterol, 454 milligrams sodium

The Sniffle

In spite of her sniffle,
Isabel's chiffle.
Some girls with a sniffle
Would be weepy and tiffle;
They would look awful,
Like a rained-on waffle,
But Isabel's chiffle
In spite of her sniffle.
Her nose is more red
With a cold in her head,
But then, to be sure,
Her eyes are bluer.
Some girls with a snuffle,
Their tempers are uffle,
But when Isabel's snivelly
She's snivelly civilly,
And when she is snuffly
She's perfectly luffly.


I just love Ogden Nash!!








This poem is a perfect one to add to the collection I'm preparing for DH. In the not to distant future, I hope to create a booklet of poems about doctors and illness - pleasant ones.....so, it can be on a table in the waiting room.

Already on the list is Shel Silverstein's *Sick*; A A Milne's *Sneezles*; Will Carleton's *The Doctor's Story*; and a couple of ones written by his own patients.

Let me know if you have a favorite.