"This sounds easy," Kerrie Sue encouraged her cooking challenged self, while reading cookbook. "I knew I bought that spaghetti squash yesterday for some reason." From toes to nose she vibrated newlywed enthusiasm.
As in the baking plan, Kerrie Sue set forth with gourd on baking pan, but to open the oven door she let go with one hand. The hard as a rock spaghetti squash promptly rolled off and, "Ouch, ouch, owwee," squashed her big toe.
After the dance of the newly lame and in pain, Kerrie braced herself against counter top and scanned the kitchen floor for gourd escapee. She spied it lurking under table in kitchen nook. "You filthy stinking psycho gourd! I'm going to kick..." she caught herself, "I will not cuss... I will not cuss," Kerrie swore, as she hobbled on left heel with throbbing toe pointing the way. At table she squatted, rolled psycho squash toward her, gathered it in arms, stood... smashed head under table, "No cussing, no cussing!" All the way back to the oven that phrase took on new meaning.
"This time I put the baking pan in the oven first." Kerrie then hoisted hefty gourd into oven. "An hour at 375 degrees might just adjust the attitude of Mr. Psycho Gourd." She closed oven door, growled, "Burn Baby Burn!"
Approximately 37.5 minutes later on the other side of kitchen island, Kerrie reclined in family room chair, left foot propped up on ottoman, big toe draped in frozen black eyed pea package. The toe had almost calmed down, when she said to self, "For some reason I feel like I'm forgetting something. Didn't the recipe say to be sure to cut the gourd in half or poke holes in it before baking... oh no."
Kaaaaa-blooey!! Psycho gourd explosion blew open oven door, scattering debris and knocking bottle of wine from kitchen island to hard tile floor. It was a special bottle of wine that Kerrie had bought to celebrate their first home cooked meal together. And so, there poor Kerrie Sue sat, a tad too quietly, as left eyelid drooped to half mast and face birthed tic of spasm.
Two hours twenty-three minutes later of cleaning-up gourd parts and wine and a quick trip to Local Yokels Market to purchase yet another potential bomb, one determined new wife tried it again. This time she did not forget, "Poke holes," Kerrie said through clinched teeth. Her face spasmed as she raised the blade, its steel flashing reflection in the half mast eye. "Die... Die... You stupid..." Kerrie plunged the knife at a way too hard rind of gourd. The blade deflected. Her grip slipped. Her hand slid down upon sharp blade edge... "Ouch, ouch, owwweeeeee!"
"No cussing, no cussing, no..." she chanted, but her blood shot eyes and facial tic concealed not Kerrie Sue wrath. Her towel wrapped hand now gripped ice pick, and into wayward gourd multiple holes were stabbed; each puncture punctuated with tennis serve grunt. All without cussing of course.
Thus the unholy, now holey gourd was subdued and shoved in oven. And while it baked, one persistent Kerrie Sue prepared just a few other ingredients for her first ever husband, a pleasing artichoke spinach spaghetti squash boat: 3 minced garlic cloves, 3 ounces cream cheese, a load of grated parmesan, another load of mozzarella, 3 cups chopped baby spinach, one overly full cup of canned artichoke hearts, fresh parsley, sea salt, pepper and of course a bit of extra virgin newlywed olive oil.
One and a half hours later, viola: there the beautiful Kerrie sat at table, her makeup flawless, her dark hair down low, her throbbing big toe soaking in warm magnesium salt water, her injured hand bandaged and elevated. But she sat alone, as the sun set through kitchen nook window, the food on table growing cold, matching her thoughts of worry. "Why did David not answer my calls? Is he hurt? Is he with an old girlfriend? Is he with a new woman? How did this day spiral into such an abyss? And that's it. I am complaining. I didn't cuss, but I am worrying; I didn't cuss, but I did fuss; when what I should have done from the beginning is pray to and praise Our Heavenly Father in Jesus name." And Kerrie Sue bowed her head... And Kerrie prayed... And a great calm enveloped her...
No more than twenty minutes passed. David found his precious wife with eyes closed, head still bowed. He kissed her temple through coconut soft and scented hair. He took her bandaged hand in his, whispered, "Looks like you might just have had a tad worse day than mine."
Kerrie reached up with her one good hand, cupped his ear and nape of neck, confided, "The worst was not hearing your voice all day. Did something happen to your phone?"
"Well, first let me thank you again for blessing me yesterday with a new smart phone. Secondly, yes, I should have opted for that armored case, we discussed."
"What happened?" Kerrie saw the disappointment etched in David's face.
"Going," David slid into chair next Kerrie, "going to work, I stopped at the market to hunt and gather a few snacks. I even opted for the health conscious organic fruit section. But on the way thru the veggie aisle I spied a bright shiny George Washington on the floor. I braced my self on a display of some kinda gourds."
"Oh no," Kerrie knew that was not good.
"Oh yes," David continued, "I bent over to pick up the quarter, the phone fell out of my shirt pocket on to concrete floor, and the gourd display dislodged and rained avalanche down upon it."
"No doubt the gourds had to be spaghetti squash." Kerrie giggled.
"How did you know?" David smiled at her reaction.
"Better yet," Kerrie interrupted his thoughts, "you tell me why my brand new husband is late for our very first home cooked meal?" Kerrie giggled again, added, "Did the gourds get you?"
"Again, how did you know?" David truly wondered, as he answered her, "Well, after work, I wanted to be here early so I took the FM 616 short cut. Naturally, a turtle could have outrun the 18 wheeler in front of me. And joy of joys, or I should say gourd of gourds, the trailer came loose from semi, smacked down hard on the pavement, ruptured and spewed forth gourd Armageddon." David paused, a bit confused by the amused look and chuckles of Kerrie Sue.
"Continue," Kerrie smirked.
Gourds everywhere! All over and up and down the road! Zillions of them! And no way around!" David almost lost his breath.
"I might just know what happened next." Kerrie smiled.
"It was like a great wind parted the gourds," David continued, "rolled them to the road sides, filled the ditches... and yet, there was such, such a..."
"Great calm..." and Kerrie smiled...
Pray more... fuss less...
1st Thessalonians 5:16-17 and James 4:8
For an infinitely more awesome and true story of Biblical proportions, please see Jesus in action: Matthew 8:23-27.
-
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Monday, June 1, 2015
I NEVER PROMISED YOU A HERB GARDEN
"Every town has got one," apron clad proprietress Sally Lunn hissed at headlights peeking through Buttermilk Donuts store front window.
"Oh, he's not so bad," sporting croissant moon grin, cashier Madeleine Olla spoke up.
"Get a grip, before reality gets a grip on you, Maddi. You are out of your mind dating that, that pig in a blanket, Herbert Garden." Sally shuddered, rubbed goose bumps from flesh of forearm.
But Herbie is so cute," Maddi protested.
"Yeah, Herb sorta is the kimchi of cute," Sally muttered.
"Don't be a sauerkraut Sally," Maddi pouted.
"Just looking out for my favorite niece." Under arm, Sally hugged Maddi, let out a hearty, "Humphhh," in the direction of Herb Garden as he stepped out vehicle onto parking lot tar. "What man would drive an old butchered up van?" Sally shook head.
"Herbie cutting torched it behind front seat and added a wooden bed. He calls it his eco-truck. Creative isn't it?" Maddi admired.
"That's about as creative as onion fudge. And look at what he is wearing, stained overalls. Now that's a fashion statement!" With pinch of leaven, Sally added, "Maddi, you have wasted over a year dating nothing more than a handyman."
"Never judge an Herb Garden by his overalls," Maddi cooled Sally Lunn oven. "Herbie is Christian and uses his skills most every day to help the widows, children and poor of our town."
"Poor being the key word. How Herb even has enough money to buy coffee and a donut, I'll never know." Sally fretted.
As Sally gritted teeth, Herb strode in, sallied up to Sally and Maddi at counter, tipped paint spattered cap, said, "Sweet morning to not one but two scrumptious donut gals."
"If only you knew," Sally gave sourdough rise.
From under counter, Maddi popped out white paper bag donut half dozen and coffee thermos. "Your usual, Mr. Herbie." She leaned over counter, her sweet smile interrupted with kiss of Herb.
Herb let loose Maddi lips, grabbed donuts and coffee, headed for front door, over shoulder reminded, "See ya at two o'clock quitting time."
"Now I see how he affords my donuts... and my coffee," Sally Lunn baked.
"Now Aunt Sally, I always pay the till for Herbie, because I know the money he saves goes to help those in need." As Maddi watched eco-truck lights back out, turn and leave parking lot, she also shared, "I finally get to see Herb's home sweet home this afternoon."
"That log shack up on the ridge? Good luck it doesn't cave in and fall over the edge. But then again you get what you date; poor handyman equals... poor house. Wake up and smell the poverty, Maddi." Sally warned.
"Icing without cake... is but riches without soul..." Maddi hugged Aunt Sally.
An Aunt Sally who worried out loud, "I fear the bacon is just about to hit the frying pan. There is just something a tad strange bout old Herbie."
Two o'clock came, and two o'clock went up a winding gravel trail; and as eco-truck climbed so did the anticipation of sweethearts side by side inside, until...
"A... one room... cabin?" Standing in a rocky front yard punctuated with prickly pear cactus, Maddi was a wee more than a bit underwhelmed that the stone chimney overwhelmed the tiny log cabin and front porch.
"Ah, but are the least of true homes, not homes of mansion?" Even more than profound, Herbie teased..
"It's okay, Herbie." Maddi hugged his arm. "Mansions are of the heart."
And up the steps, and on to the porch, and through weather beaten cedar plank door, the two entered hand in hand, stood upon cabin stone floor. "Cozy," Maddi offered, as she studied every bare log of wall, each wood brace of roof, the native stone of fireplace hearth, the hanging cast iron pots, the cupboards, the rustic wood cot, the total lack of electricity, and no running water.
"Cozy," Herb interrupted her thoughts
"Cozy," Maddi repeated, punched Herb in the the same arm she clung to. "Now, funny man, where do you really live?"
"What?" With smile Herb fained, "What makes you think I don't live here?"
"Because you never stink," Maddi giggled, added, "no bathroom."
"Hey, is that not an antique wash stand, basin and ewer by yon back window?" Herb offered proof.
"Why yes, yes it is; and a very dry and dusty wash stand, basin and ewer they are." Maddi gave wide eyed the jig is up.
"Quite observant for a donut girl." He pulled her to him, caressed her neck with his nose all the way up to ear, whispered, "Oh how I love the fresh baked aroma of my Donut Girl." So followed the plant of Herb Garden kiss.
"So where?" Out of corner of kiss cornered lips, Maddi muttered, "Where do you really live?"
"There," Herb sort of pointed with nose to near log wall.
Out of corner of eye, Maddi starred hard, reached out, pushed. A fist sized portion of log sank in. Broad hidden door slid open. Herb stumbled as Maddi took off, dragging him with her into...
"This is no bathroom!" Maddi blinked, "Its an elevator... with lights."
"I got a bit tired of the manual chain hoist to your left and installed electric controls. Pretty nifty, eh?" Herb was not above admiring his own handy work.
"Down, please!" Maddi squealed in anticipation.
Herb pushed button, teased, "Descent of Donut Girl into dungeon below. BwaaaHaHa, BwaaaHaHa, Bwaa-erk!" Donut Girl elbow interrupted Herb ribs.
"You got some explaining to do, Mr. Herb," Maddi demanded. As elevator settled to floor, Maddi eyes saw, "The light, under ground sunlight! Everywhere, the sunlight is so bright!"
"Takes a while for the eyes to adjust, doesn't it?" Herb steadied her.
"Drawing tables, plans, computers, printers! My Herbie is an architect?"
"Guilty." Herb grinned.
"But sunlight? Under ground?" Arms down, palms up, as a moth to flame the light drew her from the arms of Herb to the... "Windows,.. oh my!" She gasped. "How high up are we?" The majesty of the river valley straight below swept her heart away, almost as much as her equilibrium.
"Roughly, I'd say it is about 399.33 feet or so from your feet to valley floor." Herb had surveyed. "But if you really want to see something, look to your left."
As wide as Maddi's eyes were, they grew wider, "A city, an underground city?" In near trance Maddi's feet felt as if floating toward...
"Not exactly under ground, nor a city." Herb explained, "Pueblo is the Indian term. In this case a town of cliff dwellers, who lived in these adobe buildings centuries ago."
"Wow, but how," Maddi wondered, "how many people have seen this?"
Of the living only one, until a minute ago, now two." Herb took her hand, "This alcove simply is not visible from any place, any angle it faces.
"But who found it and built the cabin, obviously over the entrance?" Maddi asked.
"The who found it, according to my late Dad, was my great grand father's horse Nugget. Seems old Nugget stepped into the camouflaged entrance and near broke a leg with great grandpa Eden Garden in saddle."
Pondering all these things in her heart, Maddi returned to the windows; and gazing out into the lush valley below, she felt familiar nose and lips warm her neck, She smiled, "I've said it once, I'll say it again, you just can't judge an Herb Garden by his overalls."
Standing behind her, Herb gathered her round waist with arm and hand. With other he retrieved from pocket a certain gold and diamond circle. Into her ear his warm breath waft sacred whisper, "Until now, I never promised you an Herb Garden... Maddi, will you..."
Bright sparkle drew the eyes of Maddi down to the hand of her Christian man. And without turning Maddi answered, "To never end... my Herb Garden shall I attend."
Isaiah 58:10-11; John 4:14 & 8:12; John 10:9-10
https://pawpawcorner.blogspot.com/2015/06/i-never-promised-herb-garden.htmlhttps://pawpawcorner.blogspot.com/2015/06/i-never-promised-you-a-herb-garden.html https://pawpawcorner.blogspot.com/2015/06/i-never-promised-you-a-herb-garden.html
"Oh, he's not so bad," sporting croissant moon grin, cashier Madeleine Olla spoke up.
"Get a grip, before reality gets a grip on you, Maddi. You are out of your mind dating that, that pig in a blanket, Herbert Garden." Sally shuddered, rubbed goose bumps from flesh of forearm.
But Herbie is so cute," Maddi protested.
"Yeah, Herb sorta is the kimchi of cute," Sally muttered.
"Don't be a sauerkraut Sally," Maddi pouted.
"Just looking out for my favorite niece." Under arm, Sally hugged Maddi, let out a hearty, "Humphhh," in the direction of Herb Garden as he stepped out vehicle onto parking lot tar. "What man would drive an old butchered up van?" Sally shook head.
"Herbie cutting torched it behind front seat and added a wooden bed. He calls it his eco-truck. Creative isn't it?" Maddi admired.
"That's about as creative as onion fudge. And look at what he is wearing, stained overalls. Now that's a fashion statement!" With pinch of leaven, Sally added, "Maddi, you have wasted over a year dating nothing more than a handyman."
"Never judge an Herb Garden by his overalls," Maddi cooled Sally Lunn oven. "Herbie is Christian and uses his skills most every day to help the widows, children and poor of our town."
"Poor being the key word. How Herb even has enough money to buy coffee and a donut, I'll never know." Sally fretted.
As Sally gritted teeth, Herb strode in, sallied up to Sally and Maddi at counter, tipped paint spattered cap, said, "Sweet morning to not one but two scrumptious donut gals."
"If only you knew," Sally gave sourdough rise.
From under counter, Maddi popped out white paper bag donut half dozen and coffee thermos. "Your usual, Mr. Herbie." She leaned over counter, her sweet smile interrupted with kiss of Herb.
Herb let loose Maddi lips, grabbed donuts and coffee, headed for front door, over shoulder reminded, "See ya at two o'clock quitting time."
"Now I see how he affords my donuts... and my coffee," Sally Lunn baked.
"Now Aunt Sally, I always pay the till for Herbie, because I know the money he saves goes to help those in need." As Maddi watched eco-truck lights back out, turn and leave parking lot, she also shared, "I finally get to see Herb's home sweet home this afternoon."
"That log shack up on the ridge? Good luck it doesn't cave in and fall over the edge. But then again you get what you date; poor handyman equals... poor house. Wake up and smell the poverty, Maddi." Sally warned.
"Icing without cake... is but riches without soul..." Maddi hugged Aunt Sally.
An Aunt Sally who worried out loud, "I fear the bacon is just about to hit the frying pan. There is just something a tad strange bout old Herbie."
Two o'clock came, and two o'clock went up a winding gravel trail; and as eco-truck climbed so did the anticipation of sweethearts side by side inside, until...
"A... one room... cabin?" Standing in a rocky front yard punctuated with prickly pear cactus, Maddi was a wee more than a bit underwhelmed that the stone chimney overwhelmed the tiny log cabin and front porch.
"Ah, but are the least of true homes, not homes of mansion?" Even more than profound, Herbie teased..
"It's okay, Herbie." Maddi hugged his arm. "Mansions are of the heart."
And up the steps, and on to the porch, and through weather beaten cedar plank door, the two entered hand in hand, stood upon cabin stone floor. "Cozy," Maddi offered, as she studied every bare log of wall, each wood brace of roof, the native stone of fireplace hearth, the hanging cast iron pots, the cupboards, the rustic wood cot, the total lack of electricity, and no running water.
"Cozy," Herb interrupted her thoughts
"Cozy," Maddi repeated, punched Herb in the the same arm she clung to. "Now, funny man, where do you really live?"
"What?" With smile Herb fained, "What makes you think I don't live here?"
"Because you never stink," Maddi giggled, added, "no bathroom."
"Hey, is that not an antique wash stand, basin and ewer by yon back window?" Herb offered proof.
"Why yes, yes it is; and a very dry and dusty wash stand, basin and ewer they are." Maddi gave wide eyed the jig is up.
"Quite observant for a donut girl." He pulled her to him, caressed her neck with his nose all the way up to ear, whispered, "Oh how I love the fresh baked aroma of my Donut Girl." So followed the plant of Herb Garden kiss.
"So where?" Out of corner of kiss cornered lips, Maddi muttered, "Where do you really live?"
"There," Herb sort of pointed with nose to near log wall.
Out of corner of eye, Maddi starred hard, reached out, pushed. A fist sized portion of log sank in. Broad hidden door slid open. Herb stumbled as Maddi took off, dragging him with her into...
"This is no bathroom!" Maddi blinked, "Its an elevator... with lights."
"I got a bit tired of the manual chain hoist to your left and installed electric controls. Pretty nifty, eh?" Herb was not above admiring his own handy work.
"Down, please!" Maddi squealed in anticipation.
Herb pushed button, teased, "Descent of Donut Girl into dungeon below. BwaaaHaHa, BwaaaHaHa, Bwaa-erk!" Donut Girl elbow interrupted Herb ribs.
"You got some explaining to do, Mr. Herb," Maddi demanded. As elevator settled to floor, Maddi eyes saw, "The light, under ground sunlight! Everywhere, the sunlight is so bright!"
"Takes a while for the eyes to adjust, doesn't it?" Herb steadied her.
"Drawing tables, plans, computers, printers! My Herbie is an architect?"
"Guilty." Herb grinned.
"But sunlight? Under ground?" Arms down, palms up, as a moth to flame the light drew her from the arms of Herb to the... "Windows,.. oh my!" She gasped. "How high up are we?" The majesty of the river valley straight below swept her heart away, almost as much as her equilibrium.
"Roughly, I'd say it is about 399.33 feet or so from your feet to valley floor." Herb had surveyed. "But if you really want to see something, look to your left."
As wide as Maddi's eyes were, they grew wider, "A city, an underground city?" In near trance Maddi's feet felt as if floating toward...
"Not exactly under ground, nor a city." Herb explained, "Pueblo is the Indian term. In this case a town of cliff dwellers, who lived in these adobe buildings centuries ago."
"Wow, but how," Maddi wondered, "how many people have seen this?"
Of the living only one, until a minute ago, now two." Herb took her hand, "This alcove simply is not visible from any place, any angle it faces.
"But who found it and built the cabin, obviously over the entrance?" Maddi asked.
"The who found it, according to my late Dad, was my great grand father's horse Nugget. Seems old Nugget stepped into the camouflaged entrance and near broke a leg with great grandpa Eden Garden in saddle."
Pondering all these things in her heart, Maddi returned to the windows; and gazing out into the lush valley below, she felt familiar nose and lips warm her neck, She smiled, "I've said it once, I'll say it again, you just can't judge an Herb Garden by his overalls."
Standing behind her, Herb gathered her round waist with arm and hand. With other he retrieved from pocket a certain gold and diamond circle. Into her ear his warm breath waft sacred whisper, "Until now, I never promised you an Herb Garden... Maddi, will you..."
Bright sparkle drew the eyes of Maddi down to the hand of her Christian man. And without turning Maddi answered, "To never end... my Herb Garden shall I attend."
Isaiah 58:10-11; John 4:14 & 8:12; John 10:9-10
https://pawpawcorner.blogspot.com/2015/06/i-never-promised-herb-garden.htmlhttps://pawpawcorner.blogspot.com/2015/06/i-never-promised-you-a-herb-garden.html https://pawpawcorner.blogspot.com/2015/06/i-never-promised-you-a-herb-garden.html
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