February 1, Amaryllis Mosaic & Change Of Life

I won this flower at a bunco game in December. I remember vividly because 1) I don’t win a lot and 2) I won it after a controversial call in which I caused a “scene.” It wasn’t that I wanted the amaryllis, it was just that I thought I was right in an argument and people were telling me I was wrong which wasn’t the case. When I am “me,”  it wouldn’t be a big deal but that night I was obsessed by a foreign unreasonable entity and I couldn’t let it go for some reason. I seem to be having quite a few of these little out of character “incidences” lately. Please, nobody state the obvious.

My friends however, have been exceedingly nice and have forgiven me, not because I deserve it, but because they are gracious.

So this flower was the result of my shameful behavior.

When I brought it home it was a tiny little bulb. Since I kill just about every living thing that requires photosynthesis to live, I gave it oh, a week before it dies at my inept non-gardening hands.

I put it in my bathroom and every once in a while, I would throw in a handful of water from my faucet, cupped casually in my hands. Well, that sucker grew. And it grew.

It grew four inches a day it seemed. The husband would come home from his trips and go into the bathroom and exclaim out loud, “What the heck is that? Is it going to eat us?”

Finally the claw-like bulb opened to this beautiful flower. I took a quick photo in the bathroom and I brought it downstairs so everyone can enjoy it. However, I think the displacement is killing it. I knew it! I kill everything. So I’m moving it back upstairs to the bathroom again, and I’m going to baby it and pray over it and love it until it comes back to life again.

Now I bet someone is going to tell me that amaryllis have a short life span. That the bulb will die eventually. That I was supposed to trim it down or other gardening advice. But if you do, I’ll take it and I’ll do it. Because I want it to live…I want it to live…

If it lives, it means that my little incident was not for naught. It means that my soul will be healed. It means that…now I’m being unreasonable again. What the heck is going on?

It’s Mosaic Monday again! It makes Mondays more fun I think.

Another Aloha Memory & The Pro Bowl

Mrs. E had me playing Iz’s “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” in my head this weekend. It’s my favorite song. And now as I look out and see six inches of snow outside, I’m yearning for Hawaii.

And for reasons I won’t get into right now (I’ve said way too much over the last couple of days anyway), I’m yearning for my kids to be 6 and 8 years old again.

And speaking of football…

It’s not right that the Pro Bowl is no longer in Hawaii. I just have such a special place in my heart for the warm aloha culture.

At the prayer breakfast before the game.

The boy and Luther Elliss, Pro Bowl defensive tackle.

Cute little hula girls at the the pre-game ceremonies.

The family at the game.

The big game.

These photos were taken at the game in Honolulu, Hawaii, February 2001. We love football. We lived in Hawaii three years and went to all three Pro Bowls while we were there. The entire coaching staff had on aloha shirts.

I’m watching the game on TV and I think, sigh, it’s not the same.

Aloha.

Posted on Gayle’s Monday Memories.

On Darwinism

One of the places I want to visit one day is (are?) the Galapagos Islands. In my mind’s eye I see all kinds of fantastic Jurassic-period-type creatures who wander slowly and dangerously on low appendages close to the ground. Then their long-quick-as-lighting tongues would shoot out and grab their prey into their mouths and in their stomachs in one fail gulp.

Then they would burp a Jurassic-creature-type burp. I think, “The kids would love it.” Especially the boy.

Truth be known, I never fully understood how Darwin’s trip resulted with his Survival of the Fittest Theory. I do remember studying it in high school and in college and the only thing I really remember was the name of Darwin’s ship, the Beagle. Hey, it was an unusual name for a science ship. And the other thing I remember was that the theory was taught as fact, which of course is diametrically opposed to the actual definition of the word “theory.” Of course, I’m not a scientist, but I was curious enough to study a lot of science in college. So much so that I sat through Electromagnetics, Thermodynamics and Quantum physics in order to get a Physics degree.

As I begin a spiritual journey long ago - but not as long as others - I started to realize that my background in science did an adequate job (sort of) of explaining HOW we (mankind) got here, but does not in any way explain the WHY we are here.

And if you were to ask a scientist that exact question, ultimately their answer would be “I don’t know.” No - they would say, “There is no answer for that yet.”

So when it comes to the question of faith, scientists have their own faith in the unknown, because there is no answer that will truly corroborate the “theory.”

My true point is this, the science of pure Darwinism says we procreate because we have an instinctual urge to ensure our offspring will continue to propagate the species. You know, survival of the fittest. We fall for the hottest guy in the bar so we can have the most athletic, smartest and cutest kids. When we have children it is to satisfy that urge. And they would be the fittest of the species. That’s it.

I say “guy” because I’m a female and Darwinism has no explanation what-so-ever for homosexuality. Just thought I’d throw that in.

So under pure Darwinian science, there is no love. The feeling we get when we see our offspring is a result of neurological processes in our bodies that reacts to our urge to propagate our species. So love in the sense we feel it, doesn’t exist. Actually all emotion, love, fear, indifference(?) is a result of our need to survive.

Once again, survival of the fittest.

So I want to know, what neurological process will continue to let me love this? If this child doesn’t prove “fit” enough to have little Punas of his own, will I have to eat him in one fail gulp? And what stops me from banishing him from my familial community and attempt to have more kids to replace him if he doesn’t pick up his candy wrappers off the floor of his bedroom?

Sometimes he makes funny faces when he sleeps.

And when Neighbor Beth told me that he was upset last Thursday after his match because he strained his shoulder, the shot of emotion that went through me and brought tears to my eyes because I wasn’t there to comfort him was a mere physical response.

I’m not ashamed to say that I don’t know the answer to the question of why we are here.  No one does. Not Einstein, Gallileo, Hawkins or even Darwin. But he did give mankind something to debate. And he had the cutest name for a boat I’ve ever heard.

When I started writing this post, it started out as something really different but somehow it ended up as this. It’s probably controversial…but oh well.

There’s no church today again because of the snow. So I turned to the podcast on our church website. A couple of weeks ago, my pastor gave a great sermon on this subject. I am always fascinated by science/religion debates. Because my background would not let me fully accept God if I couldn’t prove He existed. What? There’s no experiment to prove the hypothesis that supports that conclusion? He must not be real then.

Until I gave up my own prideful need to know everything I wasn’t truly free. I felt I wouldn’t be smart anymore if I were to accept Him purely based on faith, because that’s what dumb and stupid people do. Smart people must have proof you know? I frankly was even more afraid of what other people would think. That they would look down upon me for not being smart.

So I’m happily dumb, thank you very much.

Happy Sunday and my neurological impulses say, I love you guys in blogland.

Posted on Spiritual Sunday…

If you are curious about the specific sermon I’m talking about, it’s here…it’s called “I was Scammed.” No pressure but it’s food for thought.

January 30, Alfred Hitchcock’s

 

The Birds.

I took this photo this morning after dropping my little horse fanatic off at the farm. It had started to snow quite heavily and this flock of birds flew across my windshield. The driving conditions were getting precarious but I took one short glance at my rearview to see if anyone would run into me as I slid to a stop in the middle of the road and grabbed my camera.

This particular flock have been flying around here the last couple of days. I don’t know what type of bird they are, but they are definitely communal creatures. There had to be a couple of thousand birds in the flock and they blacked out the sky as they flew from place to place, looking for food I supposed.

The Birds was the first horror movie that I ever saw. I was haunted for weeks by images of Suzanne Pleschette getting pecked by creepy, scary black birds. I just googled her and she looks fabulous by the way.

Then along came Jaws and I couldn’t take a bath for months.

I don’t watch horror movies anymore. I can’t take it.

A Gentle But Scary Snowfall

It’s snowing again and normally I would be very happy. Except this morning, I drove the girl to the farm before it started to snow. Now as the snow continues to fall and fall and fall, I’m getting more nervous that I won’t be able to drive the 20 minutes to get her and then traverse the half mile long dirt road to get to the farm. I have a suburban type mom mini-van. I love it but a four wheel drive it is not.

She normally rides all day on Saturday…it’s sort of her treat after a long week. She wakes me up at 7:30 am. “Mom are you awake?”

I almost always answer, “No.”

She takes a lesson, shovels some horse apples, does some tacking, hangs out with her little horse friends, helps out with other lessons, shovels some more horse apples, eats (though I don’t think I would have much of an appetite after all that shoveling), takes another lesson and then complains when I tell her I have to get her at 4 pm instead of 4:30 or 5.

And speaking of complaining, she was not happy when I just called and told her I was coming to get her NOW, you know, before we get snowed in. It’s not an unreasonable request. But for a 13 year old who loves her horses, it seems like an injustice.

So here off I go…to drive in the snow to get an unhappy teenage girl. I do believe there are better ways to spend a Saturday.

January 29, By Any Other Name

Is still a rose.

So my week?

Recently, I felt I needed a change. The urge was very strong at the begining of the week. I couldn’t articulate it. It was just a nagging feeling, no details, no specifics, no direction.

The middle of the week brought more conversation, more counseling, more discussion.

And ahhh…now the end of the week. Nothing’s changed. At least not yet.

And I’m happy about it. For I wouldn’t be able to hang out here as much if it did.

There is still a nagging in me for change but there’s also peace in knowing that I like where I am.

Except…

Though it wasn’t easy, I was successful in eating only salads on Tuesday. I was starting to get grumpy toward the end of the night. The husband reminded me that I told everyone in blogland my frugal diet plan so I was bound to commit to it.  To which I responded from the open refrigerator door, “So what?” Then I slammed it. Perhaps a little too hard. Hey, I was hungry.

But…

I lost TWO pounds this week. Now there’s a change. So that’s “so what” and it’s so satisfying. Two pounds a week is the recommend weight loss rate according to the AMA, AFAA, Congress and me.

And…

That Mediterranean fare from yesterday? It’s a pickled caperberry. Here’s a not-so-good photo of it after I’ve chomped on it. It was delicious. I don’t know why it’s not more mainstream Jodi, people are missing out!  It is not a caper I’ve ever seen before. I’m only familiar with the small-ish kind. My mother bought these, Lord knows how much they cost.

I apologize for my manicured nails. Or rather, lack of…

Here’s a quick lemon and capers dish.

1 lb thinly sliced pork loin
4 tbs fresh lemon juice
2 tbs capers
1 garlic clove
2 tbs olive oil
2 tbs butter
salt
pepper
your choice cooked pasta

Squeeze lemon over the pork. Add salt and pepper. Set aside. Heat olive oil and crushed garlic clove in a sauce pan. Once it’s hot, place pork into the pan. Put in the butter to melt, add in the capers. Turn over the pork and cook on the second side until done.

Serve over your pasta.

You can certainly use the capers that you are familiar with. These are big and pickled and may not be as accessible.

Bon appetite!

I’ll see ya tomorrow bloggie peeps.

My Nepenthe Love

On this Love Thursday, I wanted you to see this.

This beautiful book came in the mail for me from Bob Towery over at Dream Tomorrow, Live Today, Cherish Yesterday: My best abstract . I don’t know how we “met.” All I know is that I’m so glad we did.

How does someone, a perfect stranger, know me so well as to take the time to purchase a book at would so stimulate my imagination?

It’s filled with gathered families, recipes and beautiful photography. It makes me the bohemian that I want to be.

As stated on the front cover, “My Nepenthe is a story about food, family and the culture of place, and how it all unfolds around the table and why that matters.”

I swooned when I read it. It is precisely the life I want to lead and I want to lead it around the fire at Big Sur.

Thank you Bob, once again, thank you.

One of the things that gives me such great joy is to see my place linked from someone’s blog. Like from Shirley’s place, from Austin’s place, from Julie’s place, from Elizabeth’s place, and of course, from Bob’s Place. And I smile a little smile when I see a casual shout out like, “Puna if you’re out there, I can’t get to your site,” from Jane’s place. Like old friends having a casual conversation.

It’s a good thing. A wonderful thing. It’s My Nepenthe.

January 28, Mediterranean Fare

Are you ready? Do you have your culinary hats on?

What is this?

Here’s a close up.

No prize or anything…sorry. Just some fun guesses…

Posted on Foodie Friday, when it finally rolls around. Come on Friday!

My Kitchen – Again

I know I’ll be accused of shameless braggadocio but I’m going to do it anyway.

I was sent a link yesterday from our kitchen designer, Mark White at Kitchen Encounters. Our kitchen is featured in Washinton Spaces 2009 Design Competition. Yahoo! I don’t know what that means exactly but here’s the link. You don’t have to look at just mine (again) but there are a lot of other very gorgeous kitchens there. You might want to give your eyes a treat if you need a break. I’m so excited to be in such good company!

January 27, Hibernation

I am totally, absolutely, incredibly in love with dead berries…but only if they have bokeh behind them.

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