Russian I’m not
And Slavic
Not a chance
And yet they ask me
again
perchance
my story changes
Then, stare askance
Parisian I’m not
And Swedish
Fat chance
But then they query
In hopes perchance
I amend my heritage
Thus remain correct
African yes
We do come in white
So pop back your peepers
And get a load of this sight
Grey eyes
White skin
Brown hair
And fair tone
Alas it’s all true
dark eyes
Dark skin
Don’t corner this globe
On African probe
At one point of my life, I hated doing dishes. It was the bane of my existence. I prayed, asked the Lord, begged and cajoled, still hated it with all my heart.
My first daughter was six months old when we strolled the flea market in Knoxville, Tennessee. With little money, we strolled, window or table shopped, as it were.
I stopped before a small round wall plaque and this is what it said:
Thank God for dirty dishes
They have a tale to tell
They tell we don’t go hungry
But are eating very well.
Speechless and thankful, I gave the lady at the table my quarter and took my wooden note home. I placed the reminder on my sink, read it every day with every dirty dish and fork, pot and pan.
Writing to me is the way to say to all my appreciation for the lesson.
Is suffering a mental response to the conditions presented? Do we need to suffer? Life is suffering! But, do we need to suffer, or can we control our response?
Forgiveness, thankfulness, wonder, appreciation, just some of the life lessons taught to me in my choice of books today.
To scale the mountains of life, to climb to the top and look down with appreciation on the amazing life we lead, I chose Hinds’ Feet On High Places as lessons learned in life. An amazing journey of growth that opened my eyes to the possibilities of joy with God.
An allegory by Hannah Hurnard seemed tailored for me at many stops in my life, but written for everyone. The twisted mangled body of the heroine represents the human spirit. Then, the Shepherd who shows her The Way.
The story takes our heroine Much Afraid from situation to disaster as in life, to bring her on the other side victorious and spiritually strong. A book to love. Can never keep it on my shelf. I should know, having bought it more than thirty times and given it away just as many. A tale showing triumph of the spirit when facing hurt, pain and anguish.
The book takes its title from Habakkuk 3:19, “The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places.”
Much Afraid was accompanied by Sorrow and Pain on her successful journey to end up with Joy and Glory.
May you find your joy and your glory in your every day walk. Keep your spirit flexible to bend with the winds of hardship and your heart open for the people sent your way to ease day to day suffering.
Thanks again for stopping by on this weekend’s Blog-A-Licious tour. With my take on “The Book That Inspires Me Most”, please head on over to my fellow writer dk LeVick’s blog for his view of this challenging question.
Gougere Bread (Cheese Chou)Preheat oven to 375
1 cup whole milk
1/4 cup butter
1 cup flour
4 eggs
1/4 lb. Gruyere or Swiss cheese, cut into small cubes
2 Tbsp finely grated Parmesan cheese
Pinch of pepper
Preparation:1- In large saucepan, combine milk, butter, salt, and pepper and bring to a rolling boil.
2- Add all flour. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly with whisk, till mixture forms a ball leaving the sides of the pan clean.
3- Remove pan from heat and beat in the eggs, one at a time, making sure each egg is thoroughly beaten into the batter before adding the next.
4- Mix in the cubed cheese.
5- Drop balls of dough on parchment paper on cookie sheet. Leave 3″ apart.
6- Brush gougeres with milk and sprinkle each one with grated Parmesan cheese.
7- Bake for about 40-50 minutes, until the breads are well puffed, firm and golden brown.
Serve immediately! Makes about 15 chou.
In the few years of writing one ugly fact reared its compelling head over and over again, namely practice. It is not that I dislike writing. I love writing. But if I want to write quality work and continue writing well, I need to write more, starting and completing as many projects as possible for me.
This brought on the short story frenzy which has joyfully invaded my life. Obsessed with short stories in all forms, I forged forward. I read them, write them, critique them and devour the genre, from Maugham to Poe. My desire for them, grown over the last few months brought me to demand of myself fifty, yes you heard me, fifty short stories by the end 2011.
As I pondered this dilemma I set up for myself, I realized that all it constituted was a mere four stories a month. By the end of the year, I should have fifty stories. That made it one a week. Forget the extra two weeks which makes the year 52 weeks. We’re having none of that!
Now for someone like me who talks non stop, this should be a breeze, right? Wrong! My publisher, bless his holy heart, made a deal with me that at least 25 of those had to be Novelettes. This qualifies them to at least ten thousand words each.
So,
Here I sit broke hearted
Tried to write
But only started
Then one day
I tried to pen
And all I did
Was say Amen
Yeah, you got it! I lost my mind! Now maybe I can write.