Monday, January 31, 2022

Blizzed Out

As you may or may not have heard, we had ourselves a self-respecting blizzard here on Saturday.

And it was awesome.

Mistah and I were well and truly prepared with a house full of groceries, a rack full of wine and shelves full of good reads.

I woke up in the morning and started cooking -- I mean, after reading and looking out the window for a while -- because, well, that's what you do in a blizzard . . . 

. . . you get out the crock pot and make chicken curry delight.

And without planning it or talking about it or preconceiving it, the friends all started sending photos of what they were cooking to eachother. 

Let's face it. Winter snow photos are a dime a dozen . . .

. . . they're beautiful, yes. But friends' specific takes on blizzard cooking? Well, I cannot get enough of that particular magic . . .  


Jessica's sauce . . . (please note the time. That's a.m.)


. . . all jarred up.


And that's Jessica's magical bacon wrapped delight. I know, right?

There was a lot of soup-making out there, of course. I mean, what a perfect day for it . . . 


Angela's . . . 


Nancy's . . . 


Mr. Dibble's . . . 


. . . and Dawnie's. With chili prep happening too.

Speaking of chili . . . 


. . . Tracey made some, down Florida-way . . . 


. . . as did Michelle, up NL-way . . . 


. . . she also made beef jerky. 

I mean, come ON.


Hsinny made Italian bread and bread pudding and . . . 


. . . pork bellies . . .


. . . while our young friend G went the pork dumplings route . . . 

In the meantime, it kept on snowing.


Rest cures were happening . . .

. . . beverages were being enjoyed . . . 


. . . and the snacks were starting to be served . . . 


. . . oh look! The pork bellies.


And desserts, of course, were getting started too.

And over here, you ask?

Well, it kept snowing . . . 

. . . I engaged the cilantro . . . 

. . . kept stirring the crockpot . . .

. . . and got ready for the feast.

And it just kept on snowing.

Across town . . . 


. . . the weenies were ready . . . 


. . . as was the lasagna.


. . . as were Jennie's peanut butter miso cookies.

know, right?

The peeps kept on cooking . . . 

. . . and the world kept on snowing.

It was, truly, the . . . 
Best. Blizzard. Ever.

Monday, January 24, 2022

Winter Beach

Mistah and I walked at Ocean Beach yesterday and it was stunning.

The photography and the beach.
I was having a moment when I was thought I can not wait to dive into the water then sit on my chair and lotion up and read my book and drink my cool beverage.

And then I remembered that's months and months away.

And then I remembered that it's going to be here before I know it.

When I was younger -- and I was always, always younger than I am now -- I hated winter. But now Winter and I are okay with eachother. We get eachother. We tolerate eachother.

We know eachother is going to move on.

The beach is stunning any time of year . . .

. . . including this time of year.

I mean, it's no Fourth of July . . .  

Fourth of July, 2017

. . . but if recent history has anything to do with it, that'll be here before we know it.

Monday, January 17, 2022

I Have A Dream

August 28, 1963, Washington DC

 Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends. 

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. 

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." 

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. 

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. 

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. 

I have a dream today! 

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. 

I have a dream today! 

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with. 

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. 

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning: 

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. 
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride, 
From every mountainside, let freedom ring! 
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. 

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. 

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. 

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. 

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. 

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. 

But not only that: 

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. 

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. 

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. 

From every mountainside, let freedom ring. 

And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: 

Free at last! Free at last! 
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last! 

Martin Luther King, Jr.
January 29, 1929 -- April 4, 1968

Monday, January 10, 2022

The Things This Week

 Here are the things I have learned this week.

Smoked salmon with accouterment is always a delightful morning or lunchie time weekend snack.

So is roasted garlic. Always, eternally.

I look up words daily but this one? C'mon . . . 

. . . it sounds like a disease or a tech term. Really, it's a doily.

If I'm reading and don't have pen and paper because they are way far away on the other side of the room, I do this. Then never know why I did . . . 

Well, actually, in this case I do know why I did ... what a paragraph ...

. . . and in this case I definitely do know why I did. Poor Omicron Philips.

Obligatory winter photo. I learned this week that this never gets old ...

. . . neither do Kat Murphy birdies . . . 

. . . and neither do these two wee lovelies, everlasting eternally.

That is a lot of learning for one week.

Monday, January 3, 2022

The Look Back . . .

 . . . 2021 style:

January, New Year Morn

Exactly like this year.

February, The Muffled Hush

Looks like a different world.

March, Greening Up

Again, looks like a different world. A different different world.

April, All Vaxed Up

Hard to imagine we weren't.

May, 'Bout To Bust Loose

These photos are giving me hope . . . 

June, Verdant and Fecund

. . . serious hope.

July was Mad Burning Fun . . . 

. . . and a highlight of the year.

In August, Henri came . . . 

And in September, we went to the beach . . . 


In October, we went back to the beach . . . 

. . . (a different beach.)

And in November, we invented Fiyah . . . 

You're welcome.

And then in December . . . 

. . . all hell broke loose.

Happy Twenty Twenty-Two, peeps.

Wishing you flowers and love and peace and fire and sunsets and friends and joy.