grrr!!
August 31, 2006
August 30, 2006
insanity, cherubs and cookbooks
q. shenaynay
The bug bit me during an inarguably insane chapter in my life. I don't know what else you'd call running a small catering business from a 12 X 12 home kitchen (built in 1938 and never updated), with a nursing baby in a sling and a toddler begging to lick every bowl. Maybe I had an excess of creative anxiety that needed a source of continual aggravation. Whatever else it was, it was simply what-was-I-thinking insane.
Nonetheless, isn't it usually the Insanity Chapters in life that teach us the stuff we truly need to know?
My wondrous friend Tina Danze, who later went on to be a food stylist and staff writer for the Dallas Morning News, was plagued with the same insanity. We partnered up for jobs that were too big to handle solo. It was ridiculous work, really, and neither of us would recommend it to anyone who likes to be happy. But still, it was the basis of one of those rare friendships that just becomes a part of who you're always going to be. Even when I haven't seen Tina in a year, her warm shadow is always in my kitchen -- I will never make a batch of pesto or lemon squares or garlic & mint roasted potatoes without thinking of her fondly, and wishing she lived next door.
Sharing food does crazy things like that to people.
Now, before I became friends with Tina, I thought I pretty much knew how to cook. I came from a long line of solid southern cooks, and I could turn out such things as a perfect pan of cornbread, chicken salad that people begged for, and an apple pie that convinced Great Scot I was worth considering as a wife. I knew a thing or two, I thought.
Ha. Enter Tina.
Tina has a Filipino mother and an English father; her husband's family came from Spain and Italy. They all loved to cook. And to put booster rockets on that multifarious food heritage, Tina just has an insatiable culinary curiosity. This woman was a global cook before the world 'global' was even cool. You could learn plenty about cooking from merely drawing deep breaths in her kitchen.
Which is what I did. Often.
In between jobs, while our toddler cherubs emptied drawers, unfolded all the fresh laundry and stripped petals off the rosebushes, Tina and I would pore over cookbooks cover-to-cover like they were novels, scribbling notes around the splatters on the pages. Prized titles got put on Christmas and birthday wishlists; others were nabbed on the cheap at Half Price Books. Thus began my collection. And that is the bug that bit me: the cookbook addiction.
Nowadays, with several shelves crammed full of them, I just try to deliver myself from temptation whenever I'm in a bookstore (I don't always prevail). But few things give me the same happy satisfaction as a winter afternoon chatting over a gorgeous cookbook with an enthused chum.
Fast-forward to now. Those toddler cherubs are almost grown. One of our school goals for this year is for Fa and Beatrice to each cook their way through a comprehensive cookbook. So I've lately been perusing cookbooks with academic fervor, trying to whittle my way down to ten (ack! only TEN!) cookbooks I would consider must-haves. Fa and Beatrice will each choose one of these to serve as a cooking textbook for this school year.
So as long as it's fresh on my mind, I might as well share the short list of cookbooks I consider to be the best out there .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Q. Shenaynay's Desert Island Cookbooks
Note: These are not in any particular order of preference, because they each serve a special need.
* * *
I chose this first one because it's a work of art, that rare masterpiece of a cookbook. And because everyone eats, and therefore everyone really should learn how to cook... and cook efficiently... and well:
#1. The New Making of a Cook by Madeleine Kamman -- winner of the James Beard Award. Possibly the best and most thorough teaching cookbook I've ever seen.
***
#2. The Silver Palate Cookbook... because in a big, happy life, you should have some great dinner parties and throw a few sparkly showers and celebrations for loved ones:
The bug bit me during an inarguably insane chapter in my life. I don't know what else you'd call running a small catering business from a 12 X 12 home kitchen (built in 1938 and never updated), with a nursing baby in a sling and a toddler begging to lick every bowl. Maybe I had an excess of creative anxiety that needed a source of continual aggravation. Whatever else it was, it was simply what-was-I-thinking insane.
Nonetheless, isn't it usually the Insanity Chapters in life that teach us the stuff we truly need to know?
My wondrous friend Tina Danze, who later went on to be a food stylist and staff writer for the Dallas Morning News, was plagued with the same insanity. We partnered up for jobs that were too big to handle solo. It was ridiculous work, really, and neither of us would recommend it to anyone who likes to be happy. But still, it was the basis of one of those rare friendships that just becomes a part of who you're always going to be. Even when I haven't seen Tina in a year, her warm shadow is always in my kitchen -- I will never make a batch of pesto or lemon squares or garlic & mint roasted potatoes without thinking of her fondly, and wishing she lived next door.
Sharing food does crazy things like that to people.
Now, before I became friends with Tina, I thought I pretty much knew how to cook. I came from a long line of solid southern cooks, and I could turn out such things as a perfect pan of cornbread, chicken salad that people begged for, and an apple pie that convinced Great Scot I was worth considering as a wife. I knew a thing or two, I thought.
Ha. Enter Tina.
Tina has a Filipino mother and an English father; her husband's family came from Spain and Italy. They all loved to cook. And to put booster rockets on that multifarious food heritage, Tina just has an insatiable culinary curiosity. This woman was a global cook before the world 'global' was even cool. You could learn plenty about cooking from merely drawing deep breaths in her kitchen.
Which is what I did. Often.
In between jobs, while our toddler cherubs emptied drawers, unfolded all the fresh laundry and stripped petals off the rosebushes, Tina and I would pore over cookbooks cover-to-cover like they were novels, scribbling notes around the splatters on the pages. Prized titles got put on Christmas and birthday wishlists; others were nabbed on the cheap at Half Price Books. Thus began my collection. And that is the bug that bit me: the cookbook addiction.
Nowadays, with several shelves crammed full of them, I just try to deliver myself from temptation whenever I'm in a bookstore (I don't always prevail). But few things give me the same happy satisfaction as a winter afternoon chatting over a gorgeous cookbook with an enthused chum.
Fast-forward to now. Those toddler cherubs are almost grown. One of our school goals for this year is for Fa and Beatrice to each cook their way through a comprehensive cookbook. So I've lately been perusing cookbooks with academic fervor, trying to whittle my way down to ten (ack! only TEN!) cookbooks I would consider must-haves. Fa and Beatrice will each choose one of these to serve as a cooking textbook for this school year.
So as long as it's fresh on my mind, I might as well share the short list of cookbooks I consider to be the best out there .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Q. Shenaynay's Desert Island Cookbooks
Note: These are not in any particular order of preference, because they each serve a special need.
* * *
I chose this first one because it's a work of art, that rare masterpiece of a cookbook. And because everyone eats, and therefore everyone really should learn how to cook... and cook efficiently... and well:
#1. The New Making of a Cook by Madeleine Kamman -- winner of the James Beard Award. Possibly the best and most thorough teaching cookbook I've ever seen.
***
#2. The Silver Palate Cookbook... because in a big, happy life, you should have some great dinner parties and throw a few sparkly showers and celebrations for loved ones:
Reliable, rich recipes that are just right for entertaining. To the legions who have made good use of their tattered copies of this classic, it comes as no shock that Lukins' favorite adjectives are "lush" and "abundant."
***
#3. This one is because it's a given that life will give you days when your loved ones will probably starve or wind up at McDonald's if you don't know what to do with a crockpot:
This is the only slow cooker cookbook I know of that was written by well-known chefs, which essentially means that these recipes are not built around a can of cream of mushroom soup like so many crockpot recipes. These gals had a small army of chefs test every recipe until everything was just right. Crockpot cookbooks are legion, and I own several. This is the one you want.
***
#4. A good life includes cookies, scones, pies, pancakes, muffins and birthday cakes. So here you go:
The King Arthur cooking academy is where lots of professional bakers and pastry chefs learned their way around a flour sifter. But wait! They have a whole grain edition of this baking book coming out this fall! Just in time for Christmas! Woo hoo!
***
#5. Because your cooking repertoire needs the influence of a whole foods and good nutrition guru:
This was one of my first cookbooks, and it's splattered half to death and covered in notes.* We get a chortle out of the subtitle -- so 80's -- but don't let it scare you. This is good, healthy stuff.
*I scribble comments in my cookbooks, a practice I highly recommend. Ten years from now, I promise you will not remember that you ever made that peach rice pudding, not to mention whether it needed more cinnamon or was poured down the disposal.
***
#6. A little drumroll for the first cookbook I ever purchased, way back in college:
Every household in America needs this book -- the OLD, ORIGINAL version, not the revised one (okay, that's just my opinion). This is the encyclopedia of Survival In The Kitchen. I doubt I've ever cooked more than five recipes directly from this book, but I have referred to it constantly for 25 years.
***
#7. And because you MUST have JULIA...
A moment of silence for Julia.
Oh, how I loved her. (sniff) I pondered genuflecting when I visited her kitchen at the Smithsonian.
Julia wrote lots of cookbooks, and they are ALL worth having, but she considered this one her best, the culmination of her life's work. It's just gorgeous -- huge, clearly written, thoroughly photographed, and very, very educational. Julia reinvented food in America. She completely revolutionized the way chefs write recipes. The newly released DVDs of her old PBS cooking shows should win an Emmy, if you ask me. Hey, I think I want those for Christmas, too...
***
#8. O! how I adore this gorgeous hunk of a book. It has won every cookbook award imaginable -- The Julia Child Award, the James Beard, the Culinary Institute of America, you name it.
No, we're not vegetarians. But this book is essential because... well, see, it's just not all that hard to cook meats. It's everything else that requires creativity and skill. And this book covers everything else. This is a book for food lovers who want to eat healthy BUT also do not like being bored at the table. Just go read the reviews at Amazon if you're not already convinced.
***
#9 is because a good life needs some gourmet picnics and some bodacious dinners-on-the-grounds. Every recipe in this book is served at room temperature. Also fantastic when you have friends who are always late for dinner...
***
And last, #10 is because we need to think about our bodies as created things that need to be tended and nourished respectfully. Sally Fallon has studied healthy cultures all around the globe and documented their dietary strengths. The history of healthy cultures is what this cookbook is based on. It's fascinating and enlightening, and has some of the most charmingly odd recipes you'll ever feel driven to try.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Now then, if you really read all of this, please leave a comment. Because I told Fa and Beatrice that NOBODY would read this whole post. Except for, maybe, Rachel Tsunami. (Hi, Rachel!).
August 29, 2006
on impact
q. shenaynay
Dell provides us with today's installment in the continuing saga of how impactfully our culture has been impacted by the joint efforts of Oprah and Junior Leaguers everywhere to impact modern vernacular with the introduction of revisionary usages of the word impact:
Dell Announces Battery Recall
On August 15, 2006 Dell announced a
voluntary recall of certain notebook
batteries. To determine if your battery
is impacted, please go to.....
etc.
Have you noticed how impact has morphed into such a genteel and helpful word these days? A kindler and gentler impact for the new millennium, I suppose. He doesn't go BANG or CRASH like the old impact of yore. He doesn't total your car, leave bruises, or affect your deductible. Oh, no. He's reformed now.
I guess you could say he's not as... impactful. Go ahead if you like; I won't say that because I just won't say that. Because I just can't say impactful with a straight face.
(Just for fun, try to imagine George Washington or John Wayne or Sonny Pyles saying, "That was really totally impactful to me." heh heh heh.)
See, I was thinking that if my Dell battery had suffered impact of some sort, it's highly unlikely I could even be reading Dell's notice on my Dell screen. Seems to me like an impacted battery would have impacted my usage of my computer on impact.
But what do I know? All the dictionaries in my house are old and respectable. They are not politically correct like the ones dressed up in bright, glossy dustjackets down at Barnes & Noble. No, no. They are cantankerous old guys full of crunchy, wild words. Their impact goes Crash! and Bang! and could even send you to the hospital or beyond. Their impact was effective: the asteroidal impact of Wiley E. Coyote, Boris Badenov, and Bugs Bunny, not this new affective impact of, say, Barney or Teletubbies or Noggin-you-name-it.
I guess I should watch Oprah more and maybe join the Junior League so I can be impactively impacted by more broad-minded and politically correct usages of impact in all its new impactfulness.
Dell provides us with today's installment in the continuing saga of how impactfully our culture has been impacted by the joint efforts of Oprah and Junior Leaguers everywhere to impact modern vernacular with the introduction of revisionary usages of the word impact:
Dell Announces Battery Recall
On August 15, 2006 Dell announced a
voluntary recall of certain notebook
batteries. To determine if your battery
is impacted, please go to.....
etc.
Have you noticed how impact has morphed into such a genteel and helpful word these days? A kindler and gentler impact for the new millennium, I suppose. He doesn't go BANG or CRASH like the old impact of yore. He doesn't total your car, leave bruises, or affect your deductible. Oh, no. He's reformed now.
I guess you could say he's not as... impactful. Go ahead if you like; I won't say that because I just won't say that. Because I just can't say impactful with a straight face.
(Just for fun, try to imagine George Washington or John Wayne or Sonny Pyles saying, "That was really totally impactful to me." heh heh heh.)
See, I was thinking that if my Dell battery had suffered impact of some sort, it's highly unlikely I could even be reading Dell's notice on my Dell screen. Seems to me like an impacted battery would have impacted my usage of my computer on impact.
But what do I know? All the dictionaries in my house are old and respectable. They are not politically correct like the ones dressed up in bright, glossy dustjackets down at Barnes & Noble. No, no. They are cantankerous old guys full of crunchy, wild words. Their impact goes Crash! and Bang! and could even send you to the hospital or beyond. Their impact was effective: the asteroidal impact of Wiley E. Coyote, Boris Badenov, and Bugs Bunny, not this new affective impact of, say, Barney or Teletubbies or Noggin-you-name-it.
I guess I should watch Oprah more and maybe join the Junior League so I can be impactively impacted by more broad-minded and politically correct usages of impact in all its new impactfulness.
August 22, 2006
penguin penguin penguin penguin penguin
fa-so-la-la
(try saying that five times fast!)
...........
I always felt sorry for the word 'orange.' I mean, how dismal to be a word with no rhyme! I imagine it's rather like being an old maid. How lonesome it must get. And just think-- never once has it graced the end of a line of rhyming poetry. Never. Poor dear.
What makes this even sadder is that even most seemingly out-of-the-way words, such as obsequious and perforation, have their rhymes (loquacious and lamentation, respectively). But to compound the whole kettle of fish, even the word 'penguin', even this odd duck (if you'll permit a fowl-mixing metaphor) of the English language, has a rhyme.
And I'm thinking of it.
Can anyone guess what it is?
(try saying that five times fast!)
...........
I always felt sorry for the word 'orange.' I mean, how dismal to be a word with no rhyme! I imagine it's rather like being an old maid. How lonesome it must get. And just think-- never once has it graced the end of a line of rhyming poetry. Never. Poor dear.
What makes this even sadder is that even most seemingly out-of-the-way words, such as obsequious and perforation, have their rhymes (loquacious and lamentation, respectively). But to compound the whole kettle of fish, even the word 'penguin', even this odd duck (if you'll permit a fowl-mixing metaphor) of the English language, has a rhyme.
And I'm thinking of it.
Can anyone guess what it is?
August 20, 2006
sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.
~the Beehive lady formerly known as The Shieldmaiden
may i introduce myself...for i am a changed individual:
i will henceforth appear to all as Beatrice.
and now - a few of my favorite quotes from Much Ado About Nothing:
Benedick
My dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living?
Beatrice
Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed upon as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.
Benedick
Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none.
Beatrice
A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.
may i introduce myself...for i am a changed individual:
i will henceforth appear to all as Beatrice.
and now - a few of my favorite quotes from Much Ado About Nothing:
Benedick
My dear Lady Disdain, are you yet living?
Beatrice
Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed upon as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.
Benedick
Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none.
Beatrice
A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.
August 18, 2006
Good work, Beautiful Mums.
The Beehive
wishes a
seriously hysteriously deliriously
Happy 19th Birthday to
Andrew Price Ludwig Big Jim Rhett Bumbler Promise4 Fechtie Heidsman Beauchamp
Andrew Price Ludwig Big Jim Rhett Bumbler Promise4 Fechtie Heidsman Beauchamp
...a jolly good fellow if there ever was one.
We love you, big guy.
brilliance
"Polish without substance is sophistry. Substance without polish is... well, actually we don't know what it is because nobody pays attention to it."
Doug Wilson in "The Case for Classical Christian Education"
Doug Wilson in "The Case for Classical Christian Education"
August 17, 2006
Thirsty
You arm yourself with shovels and sandwiches.
You are thirsty.
You are going to dig a well.
You attack the dry earth. Charge!
Dirt in your eyes and hair and clothes;
Dirt, which unfortunately
Does not seem very responsive to good intentions.
Nothing but dirt.
Soon you're at the bottom of a pit
That refuses to become a well. You're trapped,
Surrounded with the innards of the earth.
Quick! --you cry-- Bring buckets to haul it all away!
You run out of buckets.
You run out of sandwiches.
You're still digging-- might as well--
You've nothing else to do down in the pit.
You are thirsty.
You are going to dig a well.
You attack the dry earth. Charge!
Dirt in your eyes and hair and clothes;
Dirt, which unfortunately
Does not seem very responsive to good intentions.
Nothing but dirt.
Soon you're at the bottom of a pit
That refuses to become a well. You're trapped,
Surrounded with the innards of the earth.
Quick! --you cry-- Bring buckets to haul it all away!
You run out of buckets.
You run out of sandwiches.
You're still digging-- might as well--
You've nothing else to do down in the pit.
And then, lo!
-- Rain.
August 15, 2006
brown paper packages tied up with string
fa-so-la-la
I like to be happy. And I like happy things. Here are a few of my favorites.
Fences groaning under the weight of big messy wild honeysuckle vines.
Random old black and white movies on TV that I found without meaning to and started 15 minutes in so that I don't know the title or what it's about but get completely absorbed in, enjoy thoroughly; laughing, crying, and then it's over and even if I never found out what it was, we're fast friends.
Buying books and squeezing them into full bookcases.
Standing on top of brick mailboxes on windy days when I'm comparatively sure no one is watching, like the owners for instance.
Dan reading aloud to me.
The produce section of Whole Foods in summer, with all the smells combining into one intoxicating scent of leaves and sunlight and warmth, and all the thousands of colors glowing peaceably together in lush discordant harmony.
Sunlight sliding into the grass sideways around 5:30.
Watching people I love be happy.
Playing piano while Claire sings, especially late at night when we're the only ones awake and we have to use the damper pedal and sing quietly.
Tell me yours?
I like to be happy. And I like happy things. Here are a few of my favorites.
----------------
Fences groaning under the weight of big messy wild honeysuckle vines.
Random old black and white movies on TV that I found without meaning to and started 15 minutes in so that I don't know the title or what it's about but get completely absorbed in, enjoy thoroughly; laughing, crying, and then it's over and even if I never found out what it was, we're fast friends.
Buying books and squeezing them into full bookcases.
Standing on top of brick mailboxes on windy days when I'm comparatively sure no one is watching, like the owners for instance.
Dan reading aloud to me.
The produce section of Whole Foods in summer, with all the smells combining into one intoxicating scent of leaves and sunlight and warmth, and all the thousands of colors glowing peaceably together in lush discordant harmony.
Sunlight sliding into the grass sideways around 5:30.
Watching people I love be happy.
Playing piano while Claire sings, especially late at night when we're the only ones awake and we have to use the damper pedal and sing quietly.
----------------
Tell me yours?
Dillard quote du jour
Annie Dillard, describing how it feels to receive "any unmerited grace" --
"You search, you break your heart, your back, your brain, and then -- and only then -- it is handed to you. From the corner of your eye you see motion. Something is moving through the air and headed your way. It is a parcel bound in ribbons and bows; it has two white wings. It flies directly at you; you can read your name on it. If it were a baseball, you would hit it out of the park. It is that one pitch in a thousand you see in slow motion; its wings beat slowly as a hawk's."
from The Writing Life
"You search, you break your heart, your back, your brain, and then -- and only then -- it is handed to you. From the corner of your eye you see motion. Something is moving through the air and headed your way. It is a parcel bound in ribbons and bows; it has two white wings. It flies directly at you; you can read your name on it. If it were a baseball, you would hit it out of the park. It is that one pitch in a thousand you see in slow motion; its wings beat slowly as a hawk's."
from The Writing Life
GKC quote du jour
"It is not so much that we are too bold to endure rules; it is rather that we are too timid to endure responsibilities."
G.K. Chesterton
G.K. Chesterton
August 11, 2006
I Like Boats
by Spuddy Buddy
I just read this book and I really enjoyed it. I would love to go fishing on a boat with a net behind it, but I never have. I have gone on a cruise down the Thames River in London, though! And I've also driven John Blevins' big motor boat! I rode in Maggie's new rowboat, too.
I would also like to go to a race with speed boats. I found out last night that one of the biggest speedboats, the Pachanga 27, has a bed, two seats, and a kitchen inside the hull! I think I'd also like to water ski someday (especially if the boat had a kitchen!).
I just read this book and I really enjoyed it. I would love to go fishing on a boat with a net behind it, but I never have. I have gone on a cruise down the Thames River in London, though! And I've also driven John Blevins' big motor boat! I rode in Maggie's new rowboat, too.
I would also like to go to a race with speed boats. I found out last night that one of the biggest speedboats, the Pachanga 27, has a bed, two seats, and a kitchen inside the hull! I think I'd also like to water ski someday (especially if the boat had a kitchen!).
August 5, 2006
The Moonlit Night: A Cautionary Tale to Young Ladies
Fa-so-la-la
I have consumption. I waste away. I am at times pale as death, at times flushed with the tint of a summer rose.
How, you ask, did I catch this nefarious malady that so steadily o'ershadows my mortal frame?
I will tell you, Gentle Readers, that you may escape my wretched fate. The moon was full one night, and I was overpowered by its pristine beauty to the point of throwing all discretion to the wind. I rambled all night in a field of bedewed grass. As the night waned I felt weaker and weaker, until at last I fainted and would doubtless have ere long passed on had not some kind, anonymous stranger carried me to safety.
I pass my days away in knitting socks for the poor, desperately seeking to do one last good deed for this poor weary world. It is all I have the strength left to do. Take heed to my tale, all you that hear! Live wisely, and beware of wet grass!
(and don't run with scissors, or any other pointy object. It's all good fun till somebody loses an eye!)
I have consumption. I waste away. I am at times pale as death, at times flushed with the tint of a summer rose.
How, you ask, did I catch this nefarious malady that so steadily o'ershadows my mortal frame?
I will tell you, Gentle Readers, that you may escape my wretched fate. The moon was full one night, and I was overpowered by its pristine beauty to the point of throwing all discretion to the wind. I rambled all night in a field of bedewed grass. As the night waned I felt weaker and weaker, until at last I fainted and would doubtless have ere long passed on had not some kind, anonymous stranger carried me to safety.
I pass my days away in knitting socks for the poor, desperately seeking to do one last good deed for this poor weary world. It is all I have the strength left to do. Take heed to my tale, all you that hear! Live wisely, and beware of wet grass!
(and don't run with scissors, or any other pointy object. It's all good fun till somebody loses an eye!)
---------------------------------
Seriously, I'm doing much better the last two days. Thank you all very much for your kindess and your prayers-- they're much appreciated.
August 4, 2006
behold, what pallid veil doth her cheek befall~
q. shenaynay
Be ye forwarned. Fa-so-la-la has taken to referring to her current ailment as consumption. It's just that mononucleosis sounds so dashed postmodern, dontchasee.
Consumption... ahh yes... ever so much more... literary.
Alas, Sir Alistair, verily our bonny lass hath succumbed to the capricious whims of vile consumption!
(succumbed being a relative term)
(oh, sorry, that sounded postmodern, did it not?)
Be ye forwarned. Fa-so-la-la has taken to referring to her current ailment as consumption. It's just that mononucleosis sounds so dashed postmodern, dontchasee.
Consumption... ahh yes... ever so much more... literary.
Alas, Sir Alistair, verily our bonny lass hath succumbed to the capricious whims of vile consumption!
(succumbed being a relative term)
(oh, sorry, that sounded postmodern, did it not?)
August 3, 2006
who knew?
q. shenaynay
Methinks The Shieldmaiden hath found her spiritual gift. It's called Taking Charge, or Kicking the Mamadah Out of the Kitchen.
Shortly after Fa fell ill, my throat started feeling a tad sore. The Shieldmaiden quickly barred me from the kitchen, ostensibly out of good old Christian pity, but quite likely to a sliver of a degree out of self-preservation as well.
Today, she has produced:
whole wheat pancakes
Quiche Lorraine from scratch
a perfect batch of Snickerdoodle cookies
and as if that were not enough, for dinner she made
Mahi Mahi on a bed of some fantastic savoy cabbage and peas thingy
with
tiny red potatoes with fresh dill and olive oil
and
Apple Waldorf salad
Great Scot accurately observed that it surpassed many meals we've had in some very nice restaurants. So tonight I'm contemplating retirement from culinary pursuits. I mean, far be it from me to stand in the way of my child exercising her spiritual gifts.
And far be it from me to tell her my throat feels a bit closer to normal today.
Methinks The Shieldmaiden hath found her spiritual gift. It's called Taking Charge, or Kicking the Mamadah Out of the Kitchen.
Shortly after Fa fell ill, my throat started feeling a tad sore. The Shieldmaiden quickly barred me from the kitchen, ostensibly out of good old Christian pity, but quite likely to a sliver of a degree out of self-preservation as well.
Today, she has produced:
whole wheat pancakes
Quiche Lorraine from scratch
a perfect batch of Snickerdoodle cookies
and as if that were not enough, for dinner she made
Mahi Mahi on a bed of some fantastic savoy cabbage and peas thingy
with
tiny red potatoes with fresh dill and olive oil
and
Apple Waldorf salad
Great Scot accurately observed that it surpassed many meals we've had in some very nice restaurants. So tonight I'm contemplating retirement from culinary pursuits. I mean, far be it from me to stand in the way of my child exercising her spiritual gifts.
And far be it from me to tell her my throat feels a bit closer to normal today.
what a thought
q. shenaynay
"...Christianity preaches an obviously unattractive idea, such as Original Sin; but when we wait for its results, they are pathos and brotherhood, and a thunder of laughter and pity; for only with Original Sin can we at once pity the beggar and distrust the king."
-- G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy
"...Christianity preaches an obviously unattractive idea, such as Original Sin; but when we wait for its results, they are pathos and brotherhood, and a thunder of laughter and pity; for only with Original Sin can we at once pity the beggar and distrust the king."
-- G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy
August 2, 2006
God is in the details
q. shenaynay
This is good stuff:
"God particularizes; the devil generalizes. God plants a garden within which a great variety of plants grow. The devil plants weeds in the garden that look enough like the plants to make you unsure which is which. God paves a narrow lane; the devil broadens the path until it leads nowhere. God prescribes forgiveness for specific sins; the devil blankets permission for anything and everything...
"Attending to spiritual detail yields a life of wholeness and hopefulness. Habits of the heart such as worship, prayer, study, Bible reading, care for the body, hospitality and neighborliness detail the diet of dedicated disciples. Vague spirituality sits on the couch and scoffs at practices that ask something of the soul."
-- from an article by George Mason, a Baptist pastor in my neighborhood.
This is good stuff:
"God particularizes; the devil generalizes. God plants a garden within which a great variety of plants grow. The devil plants weeds in the garden that look enough like the plants to make you unsure which is which. God paves a narrow lane; the devil broadens the path until it leads nowhere. God prescribes forgiveness for specific sins; the devil blankets permission for anything and everything...
"Attending to spiritual detail yields a life of wholeness and hopefulness. Habits of the heart such as worship, prayer, study, Bible reading, care for the body, hospitality and neighborliness detail the diet of dedicated disciples. Vague spirituality sits on the couch and scoffs at practices that ask something of the soul."
-- from an article by George Mason, a Baptist pastor in my neighborhood.
Please pray for Caitlin (aka Fa)
it appears she probably has mono.
(letters and emails appreciated... she feels quite unspiffyish and is trying hard not to get bored with all this bedrest business.)
(letters and emails appreciated... she feels quite unspiffyish and is trying hard not to get bored with all this bedrest business.)
August 1, 2006
BLOGAUNTLET HAS BEEN THROWN
WE HEREBY CHALLENGE EVERY BLOGGER IN OUR ACQUAINTANCE TO PUT SOMETHING NEW ON YOUR BLOG WITHIN 24 HOURS.
VIRTUAL M&Ms TO ALL WHO DO.
VIRTUAL BANANA SPLITS TO ALL WHO MANAGE TO INCLUDE THE WORD SERENDIPITY IN SAID POST.
VIRTUAL SQUID JELLO TO ALL WHO DECLINE TO OBLIGE.
GO FORTH AND BLOGGIFY.
VIRTUAL M&Ms TO ALL WHO DO.
VIRTUAL BANANA SPLITS TO ALL WHO MANAGE TO INCLUDE THE WORD SERENDIPITY IN SAID POST.
VIRTUAL SQUID JELLO TO ALL WHO DECLINE TO OBLIGE.
GO FORTH AND BLOGGIFY.
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