Half past beady eyed midnight, in the pale moon light, mist kissed tendrils of twig epitaph, cast gnarled finger shadows down fallen leaf path. White and silent running shoes beat in tune with ear bud blues; while rushing was the brushing of red shorts over dark leotard, as she passed by tombstone in the church graveyard. And her pale pony tail swished, as she sincerely wished for an oasis of peace to still her storm of insomnia sea.
And all the way along the way, the windows to her soul saw hungry eyes in the bushes; made the skin of her flesh crawl in chill will rushes...
"At what point exactly did I decide this fix for insomnia to be good?" Cheryl past puff rued in mid huff. "This jog half past beady eyed midnight, in the pale moon light, just might fix me for good."
And down the fallen leaf path green eyes aglow, as if in the know, hissed out and spat, "Meee-rrr-owww," a no pass warning to get back and scat, before the attack.
Cheryl ran faster. Put black cat behind her. And as her heart fluttered, she between breaths muttered, "Scared the pee, right outta me!"
And did her skin crawl, as still the more she saw, predator eyes gawking, at the prey they were stalking. Til too late to stop in the cloaking mist, dead ahead loomed hulking figure hooded dressed. And Cheryl's white shoes in unison screeched, as, "Jesus save me!" She beseeched.
Into his arms she slipped. Into terror she slid. And he held her tight, yet calmed her fright. "Young lady, tis a bit too late at night, to from insomnia take flight." And he said, as he took gently her right arm, "Come, calm your alarm. You have past the eyes of yon graveyard. You are now near the house of the Lord."
And the hooded figure guided her up the fallen leaf path, soon lit thru stained glass windows the mist by pure light bath. And the hooded figure said, as he pulled back cowl, "So are the windows of His church... windows of the soul."
Looking up into his bearded face, Cheryl wondered was this the case, "Are you Jesus?"
And he smiled, and he said, "Thank you, I do try, but I too was just like you, in the dark letting predator eyes run me down... when the eyes I was running from were my own."
And the pastor opened the door... welcomed in another soul to Jesus' shore...
Psalm 17:8 KJ: "Keep me as the apple of the eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings."
John 8:12... the light of the world, Jesus... clothes us... Isaiah 61:10
Mark 4:35-41... Jesus stills the storm... brings safe to shore...
There are over 500 verses about the eyes in the Holy Bible...
Looking out or looking in... the eyes are windows to the soul...
The eyes are wired directly to the brain, what we seek and see physically, affects us spiritually...
What we seek and see spiritually, affects us physically...
Others see us...
God sees all... and will guide our sight, if we just ask Him in the name of His son... Jesus...
Psalm 119:105 KJ: "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light to my path."
John 1:1-4 with John 8:12 KJ explains exactly who the Word and the light and the life are... Jesus...
Eyes too wide open... like focus... Genesis 3:4-5 KJ (This lie appealed to self ego and led to sweat and toil under the sun and death.)
Seek and see... focus on God thru Jesus... have abundant life... John 10:10-11
Thank you Mel...
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
FIGGY MINT
"Perhaps," Tizzie Snit spit, "we might-a should-a ought-a thought a little harder before the consequences set in." Her spit ran dry.
Once upon a faithless cloudy day, tres primas Tizzie Snit, Hissie Fit and Naggie Pit, well off they went to pick up trio plus one compliment. Thus did once upon a time morph once too often at the curb of Dirge Drive and Lane Lament, where Tizzie parked pink bismuth Cat-o-lac and where Misty Drizzle fell next Hissie behind driver seat in back. And as off they went, the question loomed just how long before... off they went.
"Hi Misty," Tizzie, Hissie and Naggie in unison gave uncharacteristic welcome to new found cousin.
"You are late. What took you so long?" Misty drizzled.
"What in blue blazes!" Tizzie's knee jerk temper was caught by the firm hand of Naggie squeezing that spasmodic knee.
"What Tizzie means," Naggie interjected, "is we stopped to get some brewskies. Want one?"
"Oh now that's just peachy." Misty moaned. "I'm in a car full of drunks headed to Buy It All Mall. We will probably crash and burn before getting there. Worse yet, I could have walked to the mall and already been there. But no-o-o, I had to wait on you clowns, and now, because we are late, my chances of snagging a Baby Haggie Dragon for my niece are next to dodo land."
In front seat Tizzie and Naggie gave each other eyes in corner side glance.
Next Misty in rear seat, Hissie's left eyebrow arched near borderline red hair.
"Brewskies!" Misty groaned. "What's the matter, life too tuff for you sissies, so you gotta drown your toad faces in frog pee?"
Hissie's arched brow developed time bomb tic.
"We are here!"Naggie nicked the tic. "Buy It All Mall!" She squealed; more than relieved the trip was a short one.
However, the search for a parking spot was not a short one, nor was the walk from back of parking lot. But the complaints of Misty, well the complaints of Misty rained longer yet; sort a summed up with one last sprinkle of fiery threat, "Late, late, late, there better be a Baby Haggie Dragon left for my niece!"
Tizzie and Naggie flanked a red faced Hissie on both sides. Firmly interlocking their arms with hers, they half dragged her, kept her from jerking round to fling lightning bolt into Misty cloud.
Once in the Buy It All Mall, twas not one Baby Haggie Dragon in lair to be found. Only the lonesome sales ad remained taped mid shelf: "Babby Haggie Dragon - evoke glowing ember poop with just one magical poo peck poke - only $66.o6."
"If you stupid sots had been on time, I'd a had my niece that dragon. You ignorant," expletives interrupted.
"Oh no," Tizzie and Naggie near same time, yet too late pled, "Hissie don't!"
In both hands Hissie snatched Misty's dark long hair, hissed, "You acid dripping punk!"
"Snake face Hissie!" Misty snatched red hair not her own.
Hissing and spiting, Hissie and Misty tumbled to the floor, snatching, scratching and gnawing. Indeed twas there no lack of cat fight attack rolling down the Baby Haggie Dragon aisle of the Buy It All Mall. Till the entangled two rolled into main aisle stack of 60 inch smart TVs, knocking them sliding across the floor. That mini cat-tasrophe gave no pause at all to their cat claw paws, as they scratched, rolled, and romped cross top most of them all, rendering them smart TVs, not so smart at all.
"That's it Hissie! Sink them fangs into her ornery hide." Tizzie roared.
Two steps behind Tizzie, Naggie made things so much not better by screaming the curse, "What kind of stupid jerk morons are you!"
Twas then the serious dual throat choking began, as ring side jeers broke out from the gathering mall crowd. Just as the mutual choking the life out of each other two, turned a lighter shade of blue, the hero thru jeering crowd stepped thru: the rumored to exist and for sure all elusive Buy It All Mall sales assistant... whose pin on name tag read... Figgy Mint...
And there Figgy stood, above the haggard two, who by now turned from lighter shade of blue to deep ocean hue. Thus, at the feet of Mr. Figgy lay the now detangled gasping for air two.
"Baby Haggie Dragon seekers, I presume." Figgy shook head.
"You," Misty choked out, "you got one?"
"Baby Haggie Dragon, hm-hmm-hmmm." Figgy shook head the more.
"I was here first," Hissie gasped out.
"No, I was," one after another of the mall crowd avowed tout.
"But these clowns made me late," Misty drizzled.
"Well maam, and the rest of you folks, you do not know just how well off you are." Figgy nod affirmed. "Seems you all received reprieve from cute fluffy Baby Haggie Dragon's spell of hell." Figgy looked down at Misty. "Had you not been late, your loved one for whom that toy was meant just might have kept a for real dragon fate."
Figgy looked up, peered all around thru crowd no longer loud. He looked back down at Misty and at Hissie, and said, "You see it is not just you but every shopper in here who is late. For this very morning it was as if... unseen hands held Buy It All Mall doors clamped tight. No one got in till we received the recall notice; which is the reason for the bare shelves. Seems when the poo peck belly button of Baby Haggie Dragon is pushed, it produces more than advertised, not just glowing poop, but for real embers, red pulsing balls of fire that have set homes and loved ones aflame. So thank God... you are late."
"I could have been responsible for burning up my niece and her whole family." Misty grasped only a bit of eternal flame.
"Yes, we all need to be careful about what we bring into our homes," Figgy, a sweet kind of guy in a dietary fiber kind of a way, sighed, "for not all that is cute and fluffy is harmless. Even that 'old deceiving dragon', Satan, the prince of darkness, masquerades as an angel of light; prowls the earth seeking whom he might devour, and drag with him into eternal flame. Yet, so many are here to purchase, even fight to possess and bring a symbol of evil into their homes."
"Toys, games, music, movies... what have we done?" Naggie spoke lament of most all, at the Buy It All Mall.
In this gift giving Christmas season, please be careful to honor the true light of life, Jesus... not the opposition...
John 8:12; Genesis chapter 3; 2nd Corinthians 11:14 NIV; 1st Peter 5:8; Revelation 20:1-2
Once upon a faithless cloudy day, tres primas Tizzie Snit, Hissie Fit and Naggie Pit, well off they went to pick up trio plus one compliment. Thus did once upon a time morph once too often at the curb of Dirge Drive and Lane Lament, where Tizzie parked pink bismuth Cat-o-lac and where Misty Drizzle fell next Hissie behind driver seat in back. And as off they went, the question loomed just how long before... off they went.
"Hi Misty," Tizzie, Hissie and Naggie in unison gave uncharacteristic welcome to new found cousin.
"You are late. What took you so long?" Misty drizzled.
"What in blue blazes!" Tizzie's knee jerk temper was caught by the firm hand of Naggie squeezing that spasmodic knee.
"What Tizzie means," Naggie interjected, "is we stopped to get some brewskies. Want one?"
"Oh now that's just peachy." Misty moaned. "I'm in a car full of drunks headed to Buy It All Mall. We will probably crash and burn before getting there. Worse yet, I could have walked to the mall and already been there. But no-o-o, I had to wait on you clowns, and now, because we are late, my chances of snagging a Baby Haggie Dragon for my niece are next to dodo land."
In front seat Tizzie and Naggie gave each other eyes in corner side glance.
Next Misty in rear seat, Hissie's left eyebrow arched near borderline red hair.
"Brewskies!" Misty groaned. "What's the matter, life too tuff for you sissies, so you gotta drown your toad faces in frog pee?"
Hissie's arched brow developed time bomb tic.
"We are here!"Naggie nicked the tic. "Buy It All Mall!" She squealed; more than relieved the trip was a short one.
However, the search for a parking spot was not a short one, nor was the walk from back of parking lot. But the complaints of Misty, well the complaints of Misty rained longer yet; sort a summed up with one last sprinkle of fiery threat, "Late, late, late, there better be a Baby Haggie Dragon left for my niece!"
Tizzie and Naggie flanked a red faced Hissie on both sides. Firmly interlocking their arms with hers, they half dragged her, kept her from jerking round to fling lightning bolt into Misty cloud.
Once in the Buy It All Mall, twas not one Baby Haggie Dragon in lair to be found. Only the lonesome sales ad remained taped mid shelf: "Babby Haggie Dragon - evoke glowing ember poop with just one magical poo peck poke - only $66.o6."
"If you stupid sots had been on time, I'd a had my niece that dragon. You ignorant," expletives interrupted.
"Oh no," Tizzie and Naggie near same time, yet too late pled, "Hissie don't!"
In both hands Hissie snatched Misty's dark long hair, hissed, "You acid dripping punk!"
"Snake face Hissie!" Misty snatched red hair not her own.
Hissing and spiting, Hissie and Misty tumbled to the floor, snatching, scratching and gnawing. Indeed twas there no lack of cat fight attack rolling down the Baby Haggie Dragon aisle of the Buy It All Mall. Till the entangled two rolled into main aisle stack of 60 inch smart TVs, knocking them sliding across the floor. That mini cat-tasrophe gave no pause at all to their cat claw paws, as they scratched, rolled, and romped cross top most of them all, rendering them smart TVs, not so smart at all.
"That's it Hissie! Sink them fangs into her ornery hide." Tizzie roared.
Two steps behind Tizzie, Naggie made things so much not better by screaming the curse, "What kind of stupid jerk morons are you!"
Twas then the serious dual throat choking began, as ring side jeers broke out from the gathering mall crowd. Just as the mutual choking the life out of each other two, turned a lighter shade of blue, the hero thru jeering crowd stepped thru: the rumored to exist and for sure all elusive Buy It All Mall sales assistant... whose pin on name tag read... Figgy Mint...
And there Figgy stood, above the haggard two, who by now turned from lighter shade of blue to deep ocean hue. Thus, at the feet of Mr. Figgy lay the now detangled gasping for air two.
"Baby Haggie Dragon seekers, I presume." Figgy shook head.
"You," Misty choked out, "you got one?"
"Baby Haggie Dragon, hm-hmm-hmmm." Figgy shook head the more.
"I was here first," Hissie gasped out.
"No, I was," one after another of the mall crowd avowed tout.
"But these clowns made me late," Misty drizzled.
"Well maam, and the rest of you folks, you do not know just how well off you are." Figgy nod affirmed. "Seems you all received reprieve from cute fluffy Baby Haggie Dragon's spell of hell." Figgy looked down at Misty. "Had you not been late, your loved one for whom that toy was meant just might have kept a for real dragon fate."
Figgy looked up, peered all around thru crowd no longer loud. He looked back down at Misty and at Hissie, and said, "You see it is not just you but every shopper in here who is late. For this very morning it was as if... unseen hands held Buy It All Mall doors clamped tight. No one got in till we received the recall notice; which is the reason for the bare shelves. Seems when the poo peck belly button of Baby Haggie Dragon is pushed, it produces more than advertised, not just glowing poop, but for real embers, red pulsing balls of fire that have set homes and loved ones aflame. So thank God... you are late."
"I could have been responsible for burning up my niece and her whole family." Misty grasped only a bit of eternal flame.
"Yes, we all need to be careful about what we bring into our homes," Figgy, a sweet kind of guy in a dietary fiber kind of a way, sighed, "for not all that is cute and fluffy is harmless. Even that 'old deceiving dragon', Satan, the prince of darkness, masquerades as an angel of light; prowls the earth seeking whom he might devour, and drag with him into eternal flame. Yet, so many are here to purchase, even fight to possess and bring a symbol of evil into their homes."
"Toys, games, music, movies... what have we done?" Naggie spoke lament of most all, at the Buy It All Mall.
In this gift giving Christmas season, please be careful to honor the true light of life, Jesus... not the opposition...
John 8:12; Genesis chapter 3; 2nd Corinthians 11:14 NIV; 1st Peter 5:8; Revelation 20:1-2
Saturday, October 29, 2016
LOOSE GRAVEL
"Cream cheese, Hersch," from front porch, Toni Jo hollered, "two eight ounce tubs please, don't forget."
"I am a cream cheese man on a mission!" Hersch shouted back. The motivation of fresh baked pear cake topped with cream cheese icing burned his brain. With saliva glands in high gear, the Hersch jumped into wild Mustang. He spun out in the loose gravel of driveway, spewed volley of rock on a mission of its own. And so it was that rear window and right tail light of Toni Jo's pride and joy four wheel drive pickup truck suffered Hersch's loose gravel exuberance.
As Hersch burned rubber in all four gears down near town country road, a tad overly taut Toni Jo shuck the tawny locks of her head, stoically said, "That is the second time this month. I just got my truck out of the body shop. The Hersch just might not get' any pear cake." Tony Jo smiled, added, "It's a tuff job, but somebody has gotta love that pudgy receding hair line little geek."
Toni Jo, being a little bit of country n-all, fit right in that west Texas Alpine town. But her husband, Herschel B. Ward, well Toni Jo often thought, yet never out loud said, "The only thing keeping my Hersch from being a ward of the state is the Lord blessed him with me. How can a man be a PhD of Philosophy at the university and a PhD of knuckle headedness at the same time? Must be the thin air of Alpine."
So Tony Jo did, what Toni Jo did most Saturdays. She returned to kitchen kingdom. For Toni Jo baked, not just for her and her Herschel, but baked for family and friends, baked for the ill and the home bound, baked for Sunday morning church and just about any worthy charitable function. Indeed, the whole town of Alpine appreciated her God given culinary gift and humble servant heart. Not uncommon were the most every day hugs of previous baked goods recipients in the chance meetings of side walk or food market aisle or Toni Jo's Judo Dojo downtown.
"Let's see," Toni Jo mulled pear cake recipe, "time to get started. Combine a little less than 2 cups of sugar, 2 sticks of this good old Alpine Dairy melted butter, and half cup vegetable oil." She gave it a stir. "Now add 3 eggs. Stir it a bit. Stir it a bit more. Beat the devil out of it. This would be so much easier had Hersch not knocked my mixer off kitchen counter yesterday." Yet Toni Jo smiled at the sound of his name.
Meanwhile, Herschel had reached the end of the road stop sign, just as an Alpine Dairy 18 wheeler topped the hill of what locals called Last Breath Highway. So there the Hersch waited what could possibly be better said than un-patiently agitated, where end of the road loose gravel met intersection with Last Breath Highway.
"Now, combine in a separate bowl 3 cups of flour, about one and a half tsp baking soda, with half tsp each of cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice." Toni Jo stirred it together, sighed, "Now all I gotta do is alternately stir this mixture into the first with my pre-grated 3 cups of pears. Next we stir in 1 cup grated coconut and 1 cup chopped pecans."
"That load of moo-moo juice is slower than the cold chocolate syrup to pour in it. I have plenty of time to beat it." And Herschel would have had plenty of that afore mentioned time had not the down hill momentum of Last Breath Highway propelled moo-moo-milk 18 wheeler ever faster; and had not the rear tires of wild Mustang went a spinning in the end of the road loose gravel. About that somewhat less than plenty of time, Herschel decided to put his PhD of Philosophy to good use. He screamed, "Crap! I'm gonna die!"
"Now, all I gotta do is coax this delicious lumpy goo from mixing bowl into two floured 9 x 5 loaf pans." Enraptured in happy baker glow, Toni Jo began to flow, "Thank you, Father above..." A faint ripple of danger disturbed her flow of glow, her praise of song, made her cock head a tad. But then, oh then, she glowed with adore, opened lips and sang the more, "Thank you Father above, in Jesus name..."
As milk truck bumper near kissed Mustang butt, the Stang's rear tires suddenly caught hold, smoked and set pavement aflame. And as Herschel felt the the G-force astronauts feel at blastoff, he philosophized, "Squashed back in padded seat is much better than stink bug squished on 18 wheeler windshield."
"Time to slide these babies in the oven," Toni Jo slid in one pear cake laden loaf pan, rose the other to nose, breathed in sweet spicy aroma from one end of pan to the other. "Now that is pear cake fixin' to happen. Nutmeg, cinnamon, coconut, allspice and pear, hmm-hmm, no one will miss one little lick," and she did.
As the milk truck shrank in rear view mirror, and Herschel sped down Last Breath Highway, a certain cocky philosophy re-grew. "Death can't catch the Hersch! No death for me!" But then again little did the Hersch know... the real loose gravel lay just ahead, right past Holy Smoke BBQ in the parking lot of the local Last Chance Mart.
"One hour or so at 350 degrees ought to do it," Toni Joe closed oven door, "and the way Herschel farts around it'll be at least that long before the cream cheese arrives for the icing. Lord please help him not to be so easily distracted. Help my Hersch to find You as central focus."
A tad more than too fast lead foot propelled the Stang into freshly graveled Last Chance Mart parking lot. Hershel stomped the brakes. The Stang slid sideways, then backwards, buried itself up to the axle in loose gravel. "Man on a cream cheese mission!" Herschel squealed, not thinking even once how close he had come to wrecking the van full of kids and mom trying to exit parking lot. He tried to open car door, but deep loose gravel held it fast. He tried to pull forward, but rear wheels only spun, dug the Stang in deeper. Herschel climbed out car window. Fell head first into loose gravel.
Toni Jo settled back into easy chair. Wafting aroma tickled her nose. "Pear cake heaven is just a breath away," she sang. In mid aroma sniff, the cell phone rang.
"I'm stuck," Hersch let fling.
"Stuck as in you do not know what you went to the store for?" Toni Jo truly wondered.
"Stuck in loose gravel at the Last Chance," Herschel mumbled.
"You are mumbling. Herschel are you picking your nose? You always pick your nose when you are nervous."
"No," Herschel mumbled, was near up to second digit deep.
"Get that finger out of there! People are going to see you," Toni Jo commanded.
Yes Maam," Herschel obeyed.
"I will be there in a minute, sweetie," Toni Jo comforted, hung up, did some off phone mumbling of her own. "I am supposed to be his wife, not his momma. But I should pray, not murmur, not grumble, but ask for forgiveness and pray for my husband." Toni Jo sat still. And she did.
"Looks like you might need some help there, Herschel," offered a bewhiskered Big Mike.
"Yeah, if they had packed the gravel down properly, I would not be' stuck," Herschel complained.
"Well maybe," Big Mike raised right eyebrow, "but what do you say we get you pulled out. I'll hook up a chain to my truck. When you get back in the car, put it in neutral and let me ease you out."
"Trust in the Lord," Toni Jo thought. "I will be back before the pear cake is done."
Chain in place, Big Mike eased out the slack, began to pull the Stang and the Hersch out of loose gravel. And no sooner than, "No problem," passed Big Mike lips, and all seemed so well; that well morphed into well of hell.
Whether it was loose concentration, or easy distraction, or impatient agitation, or most likely chronic humanistic philosophy dodo bird flu; the Hersch dropped Stang tranny in gear and hit the gas. The Stang fishtailed and slid. Spinning tires spewed loose gravel thru front window of Last Chance Mart, and into the tail lights and rear back glass of near every hapless vehicle parked in the lot.
Meanwhile, on the way down Last Breath Highway, Toni Jo prayed, "Lord, knowing my Herschel like I do, please don't let things get out of hand before I get there."
In a really mean meanwhile, the Stang crashed into the rear of Big Mike's brand new pickup. Twas then Big Mike swung open truck door. Sparks from the flint neath his size 18 boots alit, as loose gravel they hit. And with every boot stomp more sparks flew, as the madman's brow grew ill brew. With one mighty paw Big Mike from car the Hersch he withdrew.
Toni Jo arrived to see Last Chance Mart mob in the mood for a lynching party. Not so nice things were a bein' said bout her Hersch. And Big Mike, well Big Mike held fast the left shoulder of Herschel, while aiming massive fist at bulls eye nose.
Toni Jo lept out truck just in time to hear Herschel once again put his humanistic philosophy to no good use, "Oh crap! I'm gonna die!" He screamed. winced, closed his eyes.
Toni Jo was about to Toni Jo Dojo Judo the Big Mike, when...
Big Mike gave relenting, "Grrr," and his face with light began to stir. "Oh Lord," Big Mike's fist transformed to massive slap readed hand, "just one little smack?" Big Mike pled. But then he said, "Herschel, if all you got is a PhD in humanism, then oh crap, you are gonna to die."
Herschel opened one eye.
Big Mike gave Herschel one big bear hug, whispered in his ear, "You need Jesus."
Like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide open, Herschel repeated the name, "Jesus," and he 'not at all' flippantly repented, "No more, no more loose gravel for me."
Toni Jo dojo judo-ed her way right into that hug, sighed, "From fool... to cool."
And it came to pass, cream cheese icing adorned pear cake heaven. The Last Chance Mart had donated that cream cheese and ice cream too for 'evening celebration'; where partied: store manage, employees and patrons, and one local pastor by the name of Big Mike... For they and Toni Jo and the Hersch had found the way home...
Too oft ism morphs idol... worship not man... but the Creator of him...
If your wheels of life are a-spin in loose gravel... you need Jesus... the only path to God the Father... John 14:6; John 3:16
To better understand:
The Parable of the Wedding Banquet - Matthew 22:1-14
Isaiah 61:10
Revelation 19:7-9
And many awesome more...
Oh, and Herschel in Hebrew means deer... Psalm 42:1-2
Oh, and Fresh Pear Cake Recipe by beloved neighbor: Minnie Powell...
"I am a cream cheese man on a mission!" Hersch shouted back. The motivation of fresh baked pear cake topped with cream cheese icing burned his brain. With saliva glands in high gear, the Hersch jumped into wild Mustang. He spun out in the loose gravel of driveway, spewed volley of rock on a mission of its own. And so it was that rear window and right tail light of Toni Jo's pride and joy four wheel drive pickup truck suffered Hersch's loose gravel exuberance.
As Hersch burned rubber in all four gears down near town country road, a tad overly taut Toni Jo shuck the tawny locks of her head, stoically said, "That is the second time this month. I just got my truck out of the body shop. The Hersch just might not get' any pear cake." Tony Jo smiled, added, "It's a tuff job, but somebody has gotta love that pudgy receding hair line little geek."
Toni Jo, being a little bit of country n-all, fit right in that west Texas Alpine town. But her husband, Herschel B. Ward, well Toni Jo often thought, yet never out loud said, "The only thing keeping my Hersch from being a ward of the state is the Lord blessed him with me. How can a man be a PhD of Philosophy at the university and a PhD of knuckle headedness at the same time? Must be the thin air of Alpine."
So Tony Jo did, what Toni Jo did most Saturdays. She returned to kitchen kingdom. For Toni Jo baked, not just for her and her Herschel, but baked for family and friends, baked for the ill and the home bound, baked for Sunday morning church and just about any worthy charitable function. Indeed, the whole town of Alpine appreciated her God given culinary gift and humble servant heart. Not uncommon were the most every day hugs of previous baked goods recipients in the chance meetings of side walk or food market aisle or Toni Jo's Judo Dojo downtown.
"Let's see," Toni Jo mulled pear cake recipe, "time to get started. Combine a little less than 2 cups of sugar, 2 sticks of this good old Alpine Dairy melted butter, and half cup vegetable oil." She gave it a stir. "Now add 3 eggs. Stir it a bit. Stir it a bit more. Beat the devil out of it. This would be so much easier had Hersch not knocked my mixer off kitchen counter yesterday." Yet Toni Jo smiled at the sound of his name.
Meanwhile, Herschel had reached the end of the road stop sign, just as an Alpine Dairy 18 wheeler topped the hill of what locals called Last Breath Highway. So there the Hersch waited what could possibly be better said than un-patiently agitated, where end of the road loose gravel met intersection with Last Breath Highway.
"Now, combine in a separate bowl 3 cups of flour, about one and a half tsp baking soda, with half tsp each of cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice." Toni Jo stirred it together, sighed, "Now all I gotta do is alternately stir this mixture into the first with my pre-grated 3 cups of pears. Next we stir in 1 cup grated coconut and 1 cup chopped pecans."
"That load of moo-moo juice is slower than the cold chocolate syrup to pour in it. I have plenty of time to beat it." And Herschel would have had plenty of that afore mentioned time had not the down hill momentum of Last Breath Highway propelled moo-moo-milk 18 wheeler ever faster; and had not the rear tires of wild Mustang went a spinning in the end of the road loose gravel. About that somewhat less than plenty of time, Herschel decided to put his PhD of Philosophy to good use. He screamed, "Crap! I'm gonna die!"
"Now, all I gotta do is coax this delicious lumpy goo from mixing bowl into two floured 9 x 5 loaf pans." Enraptured in happy baker glow, Toni Jo began to flow, "Thank you, Father above..." A faint ripple of danger disturbed her flow of glow, her praise of song, made her cock head a tad. But then, oh then, she glowed with adore, opened lips and sang the more, "Thank you Father above, in Jesus name..."
As milk truck bumper near kissed Mustang butt, the Stang's rear tires suddenly caught hold, smoked and set pavement aflame. And as Herschel felt the the G-force astronauts feel at blastoff, he philosophized, "Squashed back in padded seat is much better than stink bug squished on 18 wheeler windshield."
"Time to slide these babies in the oven," Toni Jo slid in one pear cake laden loaf pan, rose the other to nose, breathed in sweet spicy aroma from one end of pan to the other. "Now that is pear cake fixin' to happen. Nutmeg, cinnamon, coconut, allspice and pear, hmm-hmm, no one will miss one little lick," and she did.
As the milk truck shrank in rear view mirror, and Herschel sped down Last Breath Highway, a certain cocky philosophy re-grew. "Death can't catch the Hersch! No death for me!" But then again little did the Hersch know... the real loose gravel lay just ahead, right past Holy Smoke BBQ in the parking lot of the local Last Chance Mart.
"One hour or so at 350 degrees ought to do it," Toni Joe closed oven door, "and the way Herschel farts around it'll be at least that long before the cream cheese arrives for the icing. Lord please help him not to be so easily distracted. Help my Hersch to find You as central focus."
A tad more than too fast lead foot propelled the Stang into freshly graveled Last Chance Mart parking lot. Hershel stomped the brakes. The Stang slid sideways, then backwards, buried itself up to the axle in loose gravel. "Man on a cream cheese mission!" Herschel squealed, not thinking even once how close he had come to wrecking the van full of kids and mom trying to exit parking lot. He tried to open car door, but deep loose gravel held it fast. He tried to pull forward, but rear wheels only spun, dug the Stang in deeper. Herschel climbed out car window. Fell head first into loose gravel.
Toni Jo settled back into easy chair. Wafting aroma tickled her nose. "Pear cake heaven is just a breath away," she sang. In mid aroma sniff, the cell phone rang.
"I'm stuck," Hersch let fling.
"Stuck as in you do not know what you went to the store for?" Toni Jo truly wondered.
"Stuck in loose gravel at the Last Chance," Herschel mumbled.
"You are mumbling. Herschel are you picking your nose? You always pick your nose when you are nervous."
"No," Herschel mumbled, was near up to second digit deep.
"Get that finger out of there! People are going to see you," Toni Jo commanded.
Yes Maam," Herschel obeyed.
"I will be there in a minute, sweetie," Toni Jo comforted, hung up, did some off phone mumbling of her own. "I am supposed to be his wife, not his momma. But I should pray, not murmur, not grumble, but ask for forgiveness and pray for my husband." Toni Jo sat still. And she did.
"Looks like you might need some help there, Herschel," offered a bewhiskered Big Mike.
"Yeah, if they had packed the gravel down properly, I would not be' stuck," Herschel complained.
"Well maybe," Big Mike raised right eyebrow, "but what do you say we get you pulled out. I'll hook up a chain to my truck. When you get back in the car, put it in neutral and let me ease you out."
"Trust in the Lord," Toni Jo thought. "I will be back before the pear cake is done."
Chain in place, Big Mike eased out the slack, began to pull the Stang and the Hersch out of loose gravel. And no sooner than, "No problem," passed Big Mike lips, and all seemed so well; that well morphed into well of hell.
Whether it was loose concentration, or easy distraction, or impatient agitation, or most likely chronic humanistic philosophy dodo bird flu; the Hersch dropped Stang tranny in gear and hit the gas. The Stang fishtailed and slid. Spinning tires spewed loose gravel thru front window of Last Chance Mart, and into the tail lights and rear back glass of near every hapless vehicle parked in the lot.
Meanwhile, on the way down Last Breath Highway, Toni Jo prayed, "Lord, knowing my Herschel like I do, please don't let things get out of hand before I get there."
In a really mean meanwhile, the Stang crashed into the rear of Big Mike's brand new pickup. Twas then Big Mike swung open truck door. Sparks from the flint neath his size 18 boots alit, as loose gravel they hit. And with every boot stomp more sparks flew, as the madman's brow grew ill brew. With one mighty paw Big Mike from car the Hersch he withdrew.
Toni Jo arrived to see Last Chance Mart mob in the mood for a lynching party. Not so nice things were a bein' said bout her Hersch. And Big Mike, well Big Mike held fast the left shoulder of Herschel, while aiming massive fist at bulls eye nose.
Toni Jo lept out truck just in time to hear Herschel once again put his humanistic philosophy to no good use, "Oh crap! I'm gonna die!" He screamed. winced, closed his eyes.
Toni Jo was about to Toni Jo Dojo Judo the Big Mike, when...
Big Mike gave relenting, "Grrr," and his face with light began to stir. "Oh Lord," Big Mike's fist transformed to massive slap readed hand, "just one little smack?" Big Mike pled. But then he said, "Herschel, if all you got is a PhD in humanism, then oh crap, you are gonna to die."
Herschel opened one eye.
Big Mike gave Herschel one big bear hug, whispered in his ear, "You need Jesus."
Like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide open, Herschel repeated the name, "Jesus," and he 'not at all' flippantly repented, "No more, no more loose gravel for me."
Toni Jo dojo judo-ed her way right into that hug, sighed, "From fool... to cool."
And it came to pass, cream cheese icing adorned pear cake heaven. The Last Chance Mart had donated that cream cheese and ice cream too for 'evening celebration'; where partied: store manage, employees and patrons, and one local pastor by the name of Big Mike... For they and Toni Jo and the Hersch had found the way home...
Too oft ism morphs idol... worship not man... but the Creator of him...
If your wheels of life are a-spin in loose gravel... you need Jesus... the only path to God the Father... John 14:6; John 3:16
To better understand:
The Parable of the Wedding Banquet - Matthew 22:1-14
Isaiah 61:10
Revelation 19:7-9
And many awesome more...
Oh, and Herschel in Hebrew means deer... Psalm 42:1-2
Oh, and Fresh Pear Cake Recipe by beloved neighbor: Minnie Powell...
Sunday, October 9, 2016
ECHO KISS
By too far near echo kiss, by shadow scented sigh, so is the present often cast by passion from the past... even in the sweet fall air of Arbor Cafe'...
"Taylor, please try to grasp," slow to speak, Kyle measured each word, "Taylor, you are beyond beautiful, but," Kyle took breath, could not finish sentence, drank in the smooth Calabrese olive skin of her perfect oval face.
"But?" Taylor slightly turned, tilted side of pretty face, with lithe fingers swept light brown, almost blond hair behind ear, exposed graceful neck.
Kyle near stopped breathing, croaked, "But it is too soon for me to feel feelings."
"Too soon to feel feelings? Kyle, you are my best bud. Do you not remember helping me through the toughest three years of my life, after my Tommie, my precious husband passed away?"
"Exactly," Kyle nodded, "best friends, and I do not want that to change."
Taylor narrowed olive eyes, "If I were not a Christian lady, I'd say what the hell is wrong with you, Kyle? That woman you were married to was no wife. She ran off with your divorce lawyer to Piedmont, of all places, over five years ago. The woman is diabolical. She is not coming back, Kyle. And yes, I said hell, because it is hell's intention to chain you to the past. I pray the shackle be broken, your eyes be open."
The widened eyes of eavesdropping Arbor Cafe' patrons cast those 'oops, this is going to get good look' at one another; while Kyle, well Kyle just sat there flustered amid Taylor allure and Taylor truth and ex-wife of aghast past.
Taylor propped both elbows on petite cafe' table. With palms under chin and fingers framing face, invited, "Kyle, the time is now. Do not let these lips go unattended." Taylor moved palms to table top, leaned forward. puckered up, waited.
Like the flag at half mast, Kyle's eyelids lowered, betrayed heart still tied to lingering echo, and he said, more bled, "Sweet Taylor, you are precious to me; but the kiss... carries risk."
Taylor lips passed from pucker to tremble, breathed, "Kiss me... and keep your friend forever..." A purest tear welled, fell... from light of olive eye.
With palm Kyle cupped her face. With thumb he caressed that tear neath olive eye, and he near cried, said, "Forever be our light, like the oil of lamp pierces night..."
"...And guide our blessed exodus from chains of the past, dear Jesus." Taylor breathed no shadow, but fresh scented sigh.
And as friends' lips found each other... shadow of echo kiss ebbed away... in the oil of olive light...
Are you too far near... the distant past of echo kiss...
Ask Jesus into your heart... and find the light...
Isaiah 42:6-7; Exodus 27:20-21: John 8:1-2 & 8:12 (the meaning of this little story)
From slavery to promised land... read the true and fascinating book of Exodus in the Holy Bible. You will be blessed.
"Taylor, please try to grasp," slow to speak, Kyle measured each word, "Taylor, you are beyond beautiful, but," Kyle took breath, could not finish sentence, drank in the smooth Calabrese olive skin of her perfect oval face.
"But?" Taylor slightly turned, tilted side of pretty face, with lithe fingers swept light brown, almost blond hair behind ear, exposed graceful neck.
Kyle near stopped breathing, croaked, "But it is too soon for me to feel feelings."
"Too soon to feel feelings? Kyle, you are my best bud. Do you not remember helping me through the toughest three years of my life, after my Tommie, my precious husband passed away?"
"Exactly," Kyle nodded, "best friends, and I do not want that to change."
Taylor narrowed olive eyes, "If I were not a Christian lady, I'd say what the hell is wrong with you, Kyle? That woman you were married to was no wife. She ran off with your divorce lawyer to Piedmont, of all places, over five years ago. The woman is diabolical. She is not coming back, Kyle. And yes, I said hell, because it is hell's intention to chain you to the past. I pray the shackle be broken, your eyes be open."
The widened eyes of eavesdropping Arbor Cafe' patrons cast those 'oops, this is going to get good look' at one another; while Kyle, well Kyle just sat there flustered amid Taylor allure and Taylor truth and ex-wife of aghast past.
Taylor propped both elbows on petite cafe' table. With palms under chin and fingers framing face, invited, "Kyle, the time is now. Do not let these lips go unattended." Taylor moved palms to table top, leaned forward. puckered up, waited.
Like the flag at half mast, Kyle's eyelids lowered, betrayed heart still tied to lingering echo, and he said, more bled, "Sweet Taylor, you are precious to me; but the kiss... carries risk."
Taylor lips passed from pucker to tremble, breathed, "Kiss me... and keep your friend forever..." A purest tear welled, fell... from light of olive eye.
With palm Kyle cupped her face. With thumb he caressed that tear neath olive eye, and he near cried, said, "Forever be our light, like the oil of lamp pierces night..."
"...And guide our blessed exodus from chains of the past, dear Jesus." Taylor breathed no shadow, but fresh scented sigh.
And as friends' lips found each other... shadow of echo kiss ebbed away... in the oil of olive light...
Are you too far near... the distant past of echo kiss...
Ask Jesus into your heart... and find the light...
Isaiah 42:6-7; Exodus 27:20-21: John 8:1-2 & 8:12 (the meaning of this little story)
From slavery to promised land... read the true and fascinating book of Exodus in the Holy Bible. You will be blessed.
Friday, September 9, 2016
THE FALLS
"Love is precious," pale lips puffed sigh of wist into cold, cold mist. She pulled back scarlet hood, revealed foam of sea blue eyes, feathery raven hair, freckled flesh so fair. "I will not live without my Kiefer," burned the air.
"Naked I came into the world," Posey shuffled bare feet cross icy rock, "and naked I go." Scarlet parka slipped from shoulders. She stepped nearer railing. And there Posey stood, blue eyes astare over The Falls into that void of near frozen mist, mist that painted her skin blue hue, made her husband's boxers and t-shirt cling wet to flesh.
"The path taken... leads to destination. Deceitful above all things, so this heart reaps deserved end. No dream this nightmare drop neath tombstone outcrop. No apter name than The Falls for final leap into destiny deep. No longer my beloved Kiefer will I betray. Take care of him Lord, I pray," Posey whispers froze in air. In both hands she gripped hard cold metal railing. She crawled over... to go to the other side. Her feet touched, slipped on narrow ice covered ledge...
No petal of Posey did fall. For she hung over The Falls by white knuckles, palms welded frozen to metal railing. She vainly fought to open hands. Something more than death was wrong. She turned head. Her right shoulder lay twisted behind her out of socket. She whimpered, shivered, turned head to other side. The bone of left wrist had broken thru skin; mist mixed blood down arm bled. Posey closed her eyes and near quiet pled, "Oh dear Jesus, take me home..."
And foam of sea blue eyes topped waves of dream, as her mind washed ashore eyes wide open... home in bed... From behind Kiefers arms gathered her in, softly spoke in Posey ear, "Naked I came into this world from my mother's womb, and naked I will go; the LORD giveth and the LORD taketh away; blessed be the name of the LORD." Kiefer kissed that ear, breathed,"For are we not the clay of the Potter? And yes, the human heart is deceitful above all things, but the heart of Jesus is pure."
Her bosom spasmed, pale lips whispered, "What, how..." She grabbed right shoulder. It was not out of socket, not in pain, free of ache, free to be free. Before her face she raised left hand and wrist; no broken bone pierced her skin. "A dream, only a dream?" Posey wondered.
"Ever beautiful," Kiefer breathed, took her hand, repeated, "ever beautiful," his hand moved, caressed her arm to shoulder, "ever precious," from back of her neck he swept dark hair, "so blessed with grace your nape of neck."
"Kiefer, how, how can you love me, when...?" Dew dropped from eyes of Posey.
"When I know?" Kiefer kissed that freckled nape of neck, "I know mercy, for I have received mercy." He snuggled closer. "I know forgiveness, for I have been forgiven." His nose nestled in Posey petals behind her ear. "I know love, the very grace of peace, for... I know Jesus."
She wiggled closer to husband, hugged tight the loving arms that held her; and as her grace full neck turned, that her lips met his, Posey was reminded what not to do anymore... by The Falls damp mist upon the boxers and t-shirt she wore...
Note: I prayed and prayed, then this little parable poured forth, along with the name Posey. After writing "The Falls," I looked up the name Posey, found it to be a variant of Posy from the Greek Desposyni, meaning "belonging to the Lord" and used as a sacred name for the relatives of Jesus. So are all who ask Christ Jesus into their hearts. (Galatians 3:26)
Grace to the nape of the neck: Proverbs 3:3 & 22 with Isaiah 8:8 with Matthew 11:28-30(the yoke of Jesus' grace) and Luke 15:20 in Jesus' parable of The Prodigal Son.
+++Set Free: John 8:1-12, 32+++
Giveth and taketh away: Job 1:21 KJ
The Potter: Isaiah 64:8; Genesis 2:6-7
.
"Naked I came into the world," Posey shuffled bare feet cross icy rock, "and naked I go." Scarlet parka slipped from shoulders. She stepped nearer railing. And there Posey stood, blue eyes astare over The Falls into that void of near frozen mist, mist that painted her skin blue hue, made her husband's boxers and t-shirt cling wet to flesh.
"The path taken... leads to destination. Deceitful above all things, so this heart reaps deserved end. No dream this nightmare drop neath tombstone outcrop. No apter name than The Falls for final leap into destiny deep. No longer my beloved Kiefer will I betray. Take care of him Lord, I pray," Posey whispers froze in air. In both hands she gripped hard cold metal railing. She crawled over... to go to the other side. Her feet touched, slipped on narrow ice covered ledge...
No petal of Posey did fall. For she hung over The Falls by white knuckles, palms welded frozen to metal railing. She vainly fought to open hands. Something more than death was wrong. She turned head. Her right shoulder lay twisted behind her out of socket. She whimpered, shivered, turned head to other side. The bone of left wrist had broken thru skin; mist mixed blood down arm bled. Posey closed her eyes and near quiet pled, "Oh dear Jesus, take me home..."
And foam of sea blue eyes topped waves of dream, as her mind washed ashore eyes wide open... home in bed... From behind Kiefers arms gathered her in, softly spoke in Posey ear, "Naked I came into this world from my mother's womb, and naked I will go; the LORD giveth and the LORD taketh away; blessed be the name of the LORD." Kiefer kissed that ear, breathed,"For are we not the clay of the Potter? And yes, the human heart is deceitful above all things, but the heart of Jesus is pure."
Her bosom spasmed, pale lips whispered, "What, how..." She grabbed right shoulder. It was not out of socket, not in pain, free of ache, free to be free. Before her face she raised left hand and wrist; no broken bone pierced her skin. "A dream, only a dream?" Posey wondered.
"Ever beautiful," Kiefer breathed, took her hand, repeated, "ever beautiful," his hand moved, caressed her arm to shoulder, "ever precious," from back of her neck he swept dark hair, "so blessed with grace your nape of neck."
"Kiefer, how, how can you love me, when...?" Dew dropped from eyes of Posey.
"When I know?" Kiefer kissed that freckled nape of neck, "I know mercy, for I have received mercy." He snuggled closer. "I know forgiveness, for I have been forgiven." His nose nestled in Posey petals behind her ear. "I know love, the very grace of peace, for... I know Jesus."
She wiggled closer to husband, hugged tight the loving arms that held her; and as her grace full neck turned, that her lips met his, Posey was reminded what not to do anymore... by The Falls damp mist upon the boxers and t-shirt she wore...
Note: I prayed and prayed, then this little parable poured forth, along with the name Posey. After writing "The Falls," I looked up the name Posey, found it to be a variant of Posy from the Greek Desposyni, meaning "belonging to the Lord" and used as a sacred name for the relatives of Jesus. So are all who ask Christ Jesus into their hearts. (Galatians 3:26)
Grace to the nape of the neck: Proverbs 3:3 & 22 with Isaiah 8:8 with Matthew 11:28-30(the yoke of Jesus' grace) and Luke 15:20 in Jesus' parable of The Prodigal Son.
+++Set Free: John 8:1-12, 32+++
Giveth and taketh away: Job 1:21 KJ
The Potter: Isaiah 64:8; Genesis 2:6-7
.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
STEW GONE WRONG
"If I have to do just one more," like butter in summer suffering meltdown on the Stew Gone Wrong Saloon parking lot, KJLU reporter Creme Brulee sizzled, "do just one more, just one more dive of a diner interview; I am forsaking Fort Worth, retiring to New Orleans, and changing my name to Creme Fraiche."
Too late frantic waving of camera crew alerted Creme to live on air status.
"Or to Mud, just call me Mud Slide. No doubt this is viral bound," quake of Creme rumbled aftershock, then switched gears, tried to salvage ruins with loony toon smile. "Only funnin' folks, KJLU reporter Creme Brulee here and I cannot wait to meet home town celebrity Bad Stewie, owner and head cook of the historic old west, bullet riddled, Stew Gone Wrong Saloon." Camera a follow, her shoes crunched gravel as she walked past parking lot front row of pickup trucks, old clunkers and bookoodles of motorcycles. Creme turned head, beckoned with hand, "Come, follow if you dare..."
And there Creme stood, face to face with iron clad brace, a riveted iron cross, upon an old saloon's crusty old door. She reached out, grasped handle of palm shined brass, opened door to guts of past, the Stew Gone Wrong Saloon.
Stepping thru threshold, Creme stepped right in that name called Mud, "Oh boy!" She cringed at what she feared to be her very own, spitten on, image. For there she was live and in person on 120 inch full color TV.
But what was this, instead of lynching party, diner patrons tried to play nice, many struggled to stifle, even hide snickers with hand over mouth; for after all, most had been there, that place called foot in mouth. But then jarringly and suddenly...
Thru swinging kitchen doors a paw waving, bear sized Bad Stewie bounded out, cued crowd to shout, "Howdy Miss Creme!!"
Bad Stewie grabbed her up, bestowed his signature bear hug, near squeezed the sauce right out of Creme. "Let not too far... turn too late..." Stewie whispered in Creme's ear. He kissed that ear.
Creme's legs near gave out. Stewie held her fast, kept her from falling, said, "Need a chair Miss Creme? You seem a tad frazzled." And yes, her blond hair was a bit frazzled, as her eyes melted into his.
Some of the diner crowd gave wink, amid a united sigh.
The camera guy, er gal, Lisa, whispered, "Now this is live TV. Good stuff!" She thumbs upped crew tech behind her.
Was it embarrassment, was it the bear hug squeeze, or maybe the kiss on ear; just what was it that left Creme, a seasoned reporter, a master communicator, and one hot chick to boot... left her without words?
"Are you okay, Miss Creme?" Stewie feared he'd squeezed a tad too hard, maybe even broke her.
"I'm," Creme near lost grip on microphone, as she rested palms gainst Bad Stewie teddy bear chest, "I'm... its just your hair took me off guard." Her lips lied, but her green eyes hid not her heart. "Why did you dye it all those colors?" She steered diversion, even managed segue to interview.
"Well," Bad Stewie with gentle paw to the small of her back ushered Creme's tail feathers into bar stool nest. He plopped down on stool beside her, "well, the hair is like for real."
"What? You are kidding me, right? No young man has splotchy black, gray, green, firey red and purple natural hair." She reached out, combed it thru fingers. "Its so soft." She whispered.
Big Bad Stewie blushed. "I didn't say natural." Stewie smiled, "I said for real quite unatural."
"But is not your hair one of the reasons why locals and the media call you Bad Stewie?" She pried.
"That and here at the Stew Gone Wrong Saloon, we make the best rabid hasenpfeffer in Texas." Stewie gave his diner and cuisine plug.
"Okay, hype guy, the stew is good, but what about the hair?" Creme sensed personal interest hook.
The hair is sort a personal,"Stewie stalled, yet sighed, "but near all here already know I was just a kid when I caught that evil upon my head. Doctors thought it a rare fungus, probably from the Holsteins I milked every morning on the ranch. Anyhow, no medicine they had at the time cured it, so they decided radiation the answer."
"They used radiation on your head? How horrible!" Creme lay hand on his massive forearm, added, "Sort a puts one's own petty rumblings in perspective."
"Yeah, I'm a bit older than you might think. Back then the docs tended to use radiation a rad too much. I still remember my hair falling out by the roots, the kids at school teasing, my violent retaliation, and then," Stewie sighed, gave shoulder shrug, smiled wide, "then it grew back out... rainbow colored."
"They hurt you." Concern flooded green eyes.
"Had head aches for years, then one day the Lord just made them disappear." Stewie nodded matter of factly, tilted head face upward, and gave a big ol', "Thank you Father God, in Jesus name."
"The LORD," many at diner tables repeated, some amened, many more nodded.
"That was unexpected." Wondering set astir, Creme took notice of amening patrons. The camera followed her eyes, panned the crowd of old and of young, of dads, moms and children, of Fort Worth cowboys, warehouse and railroad crew workers, and bookoodles of leather clad tattooed bikers, and... "Oh my,"Creme near gasped, "a table full of lawyers and paralegals, and is that an agent of the IRS?" But then she, and camera, and all of live TV watching saw the crosses round necks and studded in silver on black leather jackets; saw the Jesus T-shirts, and even... even was it... did they all wear the light...
"But this is an old saloon." Creme understood not. "These people are all, well, all from the rough side of the tracks. How can this be?"
"Not all that's added... is a plus," Stewie spoke heart. "Ever since the Eve of sin, Adam and the rest of us, we all got our minuses. But as recorded in Mark 2:17, when Jesus was criticized for attending a dinner party full of disreputable folks at a tax collectors home, he told his critics that he came not for those who think themselves righteous, but for those who know they are sinners; for those who are healthy have no need of a physician, but those who are sick do. And so it is that thru Jesus... God's grace... our past of day... is cast ago away... When we love Jesus, the Son of God, we love his Father, and we become God's children also. So are... the once rough crowd forgiven and blessed."
And Creme Brulee, a once tad too driven professional reporter, lay her head gainst a once bad Stewie's bear of a chest. And she confessed, as she wept, the name of the one and the only true Word... "Jesus."
"Grace to the neck... the gift of light to the soul... Jesus..." said the saved from the bad, Stuart B. Bruin, as he hugged her and with gentle paw patted the nape of the neck of Creme Brulee... three little pats at a time...
And the diners at tables let out a collective sigh of pure joy, punctuated with an amen blessing here and there...
And Lisa the cameraman, er camera lady, smiled, then said, "Now that's what I call live TV. Good stuff!" She thumbs upped to heaven.
John 8:12 KJ: Jesus, "I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." (John 1:1-14)
That most important decision of any life... might better make it now... for the never too late... tread not a moment too soon...
(This has been but a humble parable pointing to Biblical teaching. The true stories of the Holy Bible are infinitely more awesome. Crack one open. Let your life be awesome.) (For a true story bout stew in the Bible see Jacob & Esau in Genesis.)
Stew Gone Wrong? What to do? 2nd Chronicles 7:14...
Too late frantic waving of camera crew alerted Creme to live on air status.
"Or to Mud, just call me Mud Slide. No doubt this is viral bound," quake of Creme rumbled aftershock, then switched gears, tried to salvage ruins with loony toon smile. "Only funnin' folks, KJLU reporter Creme Brulee here and I cannot wait to meet home town celebrity Bad Stewie, owner and head cook of the historic old west, bullet riddled, Stew Gone Wrong Saloon." Camera a follow, her shoes crunched gravel as she walked past parking lot front row of pickup trucks, old clunkers and bookoodles of motorcycles. Creme turned head, beckoned with hand, "Come, follow if you dare..."
And there Creme stood, face to face with iron clad brace, a riveted iron cross, upon an old saloon's crusty old door. She reached out, grasped handle of palm shined brass, opened door to guts of past, the Stew Gone Wrong Saloon.
Stepping thru threshold, Creme stepped right in that name called Mud, "Oh boy!" She cringed at what she feared to be her very own, spitten on, image. For there she was live and in person on 120 inch full color TV.
But what was this, instead of lynching party, diner patrons tried to play nice, many struggled to stifle, even hide snickers with hand over mouth; for after all, most had been there, that place called foot in mouth. But then jarringly and suddenly...
Thru swinging kitchen doors a paw waving, bear sized Bad Stewie bounded out, cued crowd to shout, "Howdy Miss Creme!!"
Bad Stewie grabbed her up, bestowed his signature bear hug, near squeezed the sauce right out of Creme. "Let not too far... turn too late..." Stewie whispered in Creme's ear. He kissed that ear.
Creme's legs near gave out. Stewie held her fast, kept her from falling, said, "Need a chair Miss Creme? You seem a tad frazzled." And yes, her blond hair was a bit frazzled, as her eyes melted into his.
Some of the diner crowd gave wink, amid a united sigh.
The camera guy, er gal, Lisa, whispered, "Now this is live TV. Good stuff!" She thumbs upped crew tech behind her.
Was it embarrassment, was it the bear hug squeeze, or maybe the kiss on ear; just what was it that left Creme, a seasoned reporter, a master communicator, and one hot chick to boot... left her without words?
"Are you okay, Miss Creme?" Stewie feared he'd squeezed a tad too hard, maybe even broke her.
"I'm," Creme near lost grip on microphone, as she rested palms gainst Bad Stewie teddy bear chest, "I'm... its just your hair took me off guard." Her lips lied, but her green eyes hid not her heart. "Why did you dye it all those colors?" She steered diversion, even managed segue to interview.
"Well," Bad Stewie with gentle paw to the small of her back ushered Creme's tail feathers into bar stool nest. He plopped down on stool beside her, "well, the hair is like for real."
"What? You are kidding me, right? No young man has splotchy black, gray, green, firey red and purple natural hair." She reached out, combed it thru fingers. "Its so soft." She whispered.
Big Bad Stewie blushed. "I didn't say natural." Stewie smiled, "I said for real quite unatural."
"But is not your hair one of the reasons why locals and the media call you Bad Stewie?" She pried.
"That and here at the Stew Gone Wrong Saloon, we make the best rabid hasenpfeffer in Texas." Stewie gave his diner and cuisine plug.
"Okay, hype guy, the stew is good, but what about the hair?" Creme sensed personal interest hook.
The hair is sort a personal,"Stewie stalled, yet sighed, "but near all here already know I was just a kid when I caught that evil upon my head. Doctors thought it a rare fungus, probably from the Holsteins I milked every morning on the ranch. Anyhow, no medicine they had at the time cured it, so they decided radiation the answer."
"They used radiation on your head? How horrible!" Creme lay hand on his massive forearm, added, "Sort a puts one's own petty rumblings in perspective."
"Yeah, I'm a bit older than you might think. Back then the docs tended to use radiation a rad too much. I still remember my hair falling out by the roots, the kids at school teasing, my violent retaliation, and then," Stewie sighed, gave shoulder shrug, smiled wide, "then it grew back out... rainbow colored."
"They hurt you." Concern flooded green eyes.
"Had head aches for years, then one day the Lord just made them disappear." Stewie nodded matter of factly, tilted head face upward, and gave a big ol', "Thank you Father God, in Jesus name."
"The LORD," many at diner tables repeated, some amened, many more nodded.
"That was unexpected." Wondering set astir, Creme took notice of amening patrons. The camera followed her eyes, panned the crowd of old and of young, of dads, moms and children, of Fort Worth cowboys, warehouse and railroad crew workers, and bookoodles of leather clad tattooed bikers, and... "Oh my,"Creme near gasped, "a table full of lawyers and paralegals, and is that an agent of the IRS?" But then she, and camera, and all of live TV watching saw the crosses round necks and studded in silver on black leather jackets; saw the Jesus T-shirts, and even... even was it... did they all wear the light...
"But this is an old saloon." Creme understood not. "These people are all, well, all from the rough side of the tracks. How can this be?"
"Not all that's added... is a plus," Stewie spoke heart. "Ever since the Eve of sin, Adam and the rest of us, we all got our minuses. But as recorded in Mark 2:17, when Jesus was criticized for attending a dinner party full of disreputable folks at a tax collectors home, he told his critics that he came not for those who think themselves righteous, but for those who know they are sinners; for those who are healthy have no need of a physician, but those who are sick do. And so it is that thru Jesus... God's grace... our past of day... is cast ago away... When we love Jesus, the Son of God, we love his Father, and we become God's children also. So are... the once rough crowd forgiven and blessed."
And Creme Brulee, a once tad too driven professional reporter, lay her head gainst a once bad Stewie's bear of a chest. And she confessed, as she wept, the name of the one and the only true Word... "Jesus."
"Grace to the neck... the gift of light to the soul... Jesus..." said the saved from the bad, Stuart B. Bruin, as he hugged her and with gentle paw patted the nape of the neck of Creme Brulee... three little pats at a time...
And the diners at tables let out a collective sigh of pure joy, punctuated with an amen blessing here and there...
And Lisa the cameraman, er camera lady, smiled, then said, "Now that's what I call live TV. Good stuff!" She thumbs upped to heaven.
John 8:12 KJ: Jesus, "I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." (John 1:1-14)
That most important decision of any life... might better make it now... for the never too late... tread not a moment too soon...
(This has been but a humble parable pointing to Biblical teaching. The true stories of the Holy Bible are infinitely more awesome. Crack one open. Let your life be awesome.) (For a true story bout stew in the Bible see Jacob & Esau in Genesis.)
Stew Gone Wrong? What to do? 2nd Chronicles 7:14...
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
EVERY PIE HAS ITS CRUST
"Kneading dough is no piece of cake." With full lips a pout, Terra Eskew puffed at scrunchie escaped dark hair.
"That's," Smitten Kitchens laugh swished her palomino pony tail, "that's because cake be doughless. I think to bake the cake takes, like, batter?"
"Exactly," Terra agreed, "doughless, unlike making pie crust, like we are doughing," Terra chuckled at her little play on words, but added, "Just how did we inherit the unofficial family title of Thanksgiving pie makers?" With back of hand Terra dabbed at the salty dew of labor on her nose, but succeeded only in covering her freckles in white flour.
As she prepared apple filling, Smitten smiled, contemplated not telling Terra, but, "You look so cute with snow capped nose."
"What?" Terra's brown eyes crossed, fought to focus on tip of nose. "So you are saying my nose is like a snow capped mountain?"
Smitten giggle vibrated her far more than a tad baby bump gainst counter. "Hold still, silly," Smitten took a break from carving apples. Her green eyes a sparkle reflected, told the tale of care, the red and white checkered apron borne by right hand, as she reached up to dab flour from Terra nose.
"That's my Smitten, been keeping your too tall gal pal's nose clean since third grade." Terra pounded dough.
"Little rough on the dough aren't we there, Terra?" Smitten knew. She was not supposed to know, but she knew that Terra look, that dough of guilt, that forbidden apple pie that ate at the heart of Terra. Thus Smitten with slip of lip swept up the past, "From the floor of the mind... stir wisps of dust... whispers of time..." That breath, oh how it breathed Smitten heart; yet she sucked air back in thru teeth, bit that lowered lip, too late to retrieve words born.
Terra mirrored Smitten bite of lower lip, then whispered, "The slip of the tongue is seldom silk, nor without season." She sprinkled white flour over dough, rubbed flour on rolling pin, and rolled not so merrily along.
"Nobody's perfect." To bowl of carved apples, Smitten added smidgen of allspice, yet now the herb of rub.
Trembling lip the quiet of Terra betrayed.
"Sorry." Wrinkled brow of Smitten winced.
After a tad more quiet, Terra ceased rolling of sour dough. "So you know," she whispered.
Twas Smitten turn to weigh the quiet, a quiet that echoed off rue mountain.
"We didn't plan it." Terra closed shades of eyes. "It," she took breath, opened eyes, and with those full pout lips sighed, "it just happened."
"Yeah," thru apron Smitten rubbed pregnant tummy, "stuff happens."
"I am so sorry," Terra put her hand over Smitten's on her swollen tummy.
"I am sorry too." Smitten stared out kitchen window into the garden beyond.
"Please," Terra fought lump in throat, "forgive me?" Terra cried. She hugged her precious friend, patted Smitten hand atop Smitten's ripe tummy. "At least you and Bill made up after our combined stupidity."
Smitten hesitated, then as if they played a game of their youth, she put her hand atop Terra's hand, that was atop her hand on her rounded tummy, then said, "About this," Smitten pressed Terra's hand from atop hers directly to pregnant tummy, "I hate to one up you, but, when the smitten smite back, revenge is stupider to the nth degree."
"You and my Ted?" Terra blinked, squished tears down cheek.
"High fidelity infidelity sort a amps up the heartache, doesn't it." Smitten stared all the more out kitchen window into the garden.
"Every pie has its crust..." Terra cried. Her eyes followed Smitten's thru kitchen window, thru tears she asked, "Is forgiveness out there... in the garden?"
"In the garden I see the well of grace... the living water... his name is Jesus..." Smitten cried...
And so it came to pass... in the garden... they prayed...
That very evening... baby Grace was born...
Our characters take a bow:
Terra Eskew: the earth, the world askew.
Smitten: When the smitten smite back... consequences swell...
Every Pie Has Its Crust: since Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit...
Yet read in the totally true and infinitely awesomer Holy Bible:
John 4:5-42, The adulteress at the endless well of grace... Jesus...
John 8:1-11, The woman about to be stoned for adultery... Jesus tells her accusers: "Let ye without sin cast the first stone..."
Luke 23:34, Nailed to the cross, Jesus prayed for us all, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do." So must we forgive also...
The most important decision of any life:
Romans 3:23 KJ; "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God."
Romans 5:8 KJ; "But God comendeth his love toward us, in that, while we yet sinners, Christ died for us."
Romans 6:23 KJ; "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."
Romans 10:9 KJ; "That if thou shalt confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God has raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved."
... ... ... You are loved ... ... ...
"That's," Smitten Kitchens laugh swished her palomino pony tail, "that's because cake be doughless. I think to bake the cake takes, like, batter?"
"Exactly," Terra agreed, "doughless, unlike making pie crust, like we are doughing," Terra chuckled at her little play on words, but added, "Just how did we inherit the unofficial family title of Thanksgiving pie makers?" With back of hand Terra dabbed at the salty dew of labor on her nose, but succeeded only in covering her freckles in white flour.
As she prepared apple filling, Smitten smiled, contemplated not telling Terra, but, "You look so cute with snow capped nose."
"What?" Terra's brown eyes crossed, fought to focus on tip of nose. "So you are saying my nose is like a snow capped mountain?"
Smitten giggle vibrated her far more than a tad baby bump gainst counter. "Hold still, silly," Smitten took a break from carving apples. Her green eyes a sparkle reflected, told the tale of care, the red and white checkered apron borne by right hand, as she reached up to dab flour from Terra nose.
"That's my Smitten, been keeping your too tall gal pal's nose clean since third grade." Terra pounded dough.
"Little rough on the dough aren't we there, Terra?" Smitten knew. She was not supposed to know, but she knew that Terra look, that dough of guilt, that forbidden apple pie that ate at the heart of Terra. Thus Smitten with slip of lip swept up the past, "From the floor of the mind... stir wisps of dust... whispers of time..." That breath, oh how it breathed Smitten heart; yet she sucked air back in thru teeth, bit that lowered lip, too late to retrieve words born.
Terra mirrored Smitten bite of lower lip, then whispered, "The slip of the tongue is seldom silk, nor without season." She sprinkled white flour over dough, rubbed flour on rolling pin, and rolled not so merrily along.
"Nobody's perfect." To bowl of carved apples, Smitten added smidgen of allspice, yet now the herb of rub.
Trembling lip the quiet of Terra betrayed.
"Sorry." Wrinkled brow of Smitten winced.
After a tad more quiet, Terra ceased rolling of sour dough. "So you know," she whispered.
Twas Smitten turn to weigh the quiet, a quiet that echoed off rue mountain.
"We didn't plan it." Terra closed shades of eyes. "It," she took breath, opened eyes, and with those full pout lips sighed, "it just happened."
"Yeah," thru apron Smitten rubbed pregnant tummy, "stuff happens."
"I am so sorry," Terra put her hand over Smitten's on her swollen tummy.
"I am sorry too." Smitten stared out kitchen window into the garden beyond.
"Please," Terra fought lump in throat, "forgive me?" Terra cried. She hugged her precious friend, patted Smitten hand atop Smitten's ripe tummy. "At least you and Bill made up after our combined stupidity."
Smitten hesitated, then as if they played a game of their youth, she put her hand atop Terra's hand, that was atop her hand on her rounded tummy, then said, "About this," Smitten pressed Terra's hand from atop hers directly to pregnant tummy, "I hate to one up you, but, when the smitten smite back, revenge is stupider to the nth degree."
"You and my Ted?" Terra blinked, squished tears down cheek.
"High fidelity infidelity sort a amps up the heartache, doesn't it." Smitten stared all the more out kitchen window into the garden.
"Every pie has its crust..." Terra cried. Her eyes followed Smitten's thru kitchen window, thru tears she asked, "Is forgiveness out there... in the garden?"
"In the garden I see the well of grace... the living water... his name is Jesus..." Smitten cried...
And so it came to pass... in the garden... they prayed...
That very evening... baby Grace was born...
Our characters take a bow:
Terra Eskew: the earth, the world askew.
Smitten: When the smitten smite back... consequences swell...
Every Pie Has Its Crust: since Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit...
Yet read in the totally true and infinitely awesomer Holy Bible:
John 4:5-42, The adulteress at the endless well of grace... Jesus...
John 8:1-11, The woman about to be stoned for adultery... Jesus tells her accusers: "Let ye without sin cast the first stone..."
Luke 23:34, Nailed to the cross, Jesus prayed for us all, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do." So must we forgive also...
The most important decision of any life:
Romans 3:23 KJ; "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God."
Romans 5:8 KJ; "But God comendeth his love toward us, in that, while we yet sinners, Christ died for us."
Romans 6:23 KJ; "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."
Romans 10:9 KJ; "That if thou shalt confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God has raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved."
... ... ... You are loved ... ... ...
Sunday, May 22, 2016
TWICE BAKED
"Die wrinkle die!" Carol sang no noel over new hubby's favorite slacks. Thru clenched teeth she sucked in steam from iron. "No matter," steam puffed out pink rose lips, "no matter how I press, push, grind and twist, that stupid wrinkle just will not give it up. It is as if it's perma-pressed or something... Ooohhh no!" Carol cringed, for the wrinkle, the pant leg pleat, had given it up, charred black and unholy holey at the knee. Carol tears extinguished flames of ire in blue Swede eyes.
"Low altitude attitude has done me in again. What is wrong with me?" Carol dabbed tears from cheek with soft light hair. "Why can I not just stop being negative? I will never fly right." She whined a tad more, before the sound of driveway crash wrecked self-loathing, left ego smoldering...
The wind of Will Hope blew in thru open door, stirred sad smoke into swirling wisps with teaspoon of optimism. "Your car needed a new bumper anyway." A somewhat less than pudgy hubby held out his arms to wife.
"Ooohhh no," Carol Hope lamented, fell into his arms gainst teddy bear chest, jarred his glasses askew on nose.
"Or did I say wife gets a new car?" Will hugged her, felt on his cheek her tears in hair, kissed her ear.
"Oh, it's not the car, it's..." Carol sniffled, reached for, then held forth homemaker failure, "I ruined your favorite slacks."
"Well," Will plucked pants from her fingers, surveyed the damage, "What rankle hath wrinkle wrought?" He held pants up between them. Thru burnt hole Will right eye stared straight into the left eye of Carol. "Wow, I see you burned completely thru both sides of the leg. Not many bear such unwavering perseverance." He snickered, tossed pants aside, gave wife snug hug.
Carol slide hands up chest, cradled his cheeks in her soft hands. Blue eyes met brown. "Why are you not mad?"
"Cause I'm mad about you." Will matter of facted.
I'd be peeved, if you ironed a hole in my favorite dress." Carol stated, yet more questioned not hubby Will, but the will of self.
"Actually, I am furious." Will turned dark. "We must honor charred pant remains with proper burial neath stone epitaph of enigma: Twas perseverance too well done; betrayed sad pants undone."
"You are mocking me, because I am a professor of English Lit?" Carol narrowed those blue Swede eyes.
Will set in. "To mock, yet to..."
Carol gave both hubby love handles the stop and desist lobster pinch.
"Yeee-ouchee!" Will pulled claws loose, quipped away, "To mock, yet to weep, alas poor pants, shall pant no more." He emoted nother ig-mo gem, while keeping lobster claws at bay.
"Dust to dust yet to sweep; better not bitter for to sleep," Carol countered, punctuated with giggle.
"Something burning?" Will sniffed non-fragrant air.
"Duh! Charred pants!" Carol sang.
"Is that smoke coming from the kitchen?" Will sort a wondered.
"Ohhh no," Carol sung.
Together they opened windows, aired out the house called home. Together they dumped burnt pork chops and charred pants into trash receptacle near driveway, where Carol observed, "Your truck bumper sort a leapfrogged my car Lady Macduff''s bumper."
"Alas, poor Lady Macduff, sad wife knew you well." Will Hope sighed.
"Alas, poor husband new car buys," Carol gave sideways nod and rose lips smile.
Strolling arm and arm back to home back door, Will reflected, "Ya know, in a way I sure am glad my precious wife burned a hole in my favorite slacks." He emphasized with wide open eyes."Maybe little mini disasters happen in sync for a reason."
"Like saving your butt from the wrath of wife." Carol gave Will sly fox eyes and full tooth grin.
"Like saving us from... I love that little fox eating fried chicken look of yours." He marveled at rare find fine wife.
At his side, under his wing, Carol completed the distracted thought of Will, "Hard times always teach, sometimes save and at times even pull us together."
As they re-entered kitchen thru back door, Carol's tummy growled, reminded, "Well, an evening meal might have saved us from starving."
"Ah, but what is that I see covered in terry cloth atop yon stove?" Will found hope.
"Great Grandma Olla's home-made rolls," Carol offered. "At least I think that's what it is. The recipe card is the original and the title at top is for sure smudged with butter and probably milk."
"Let's give her a look." Will peeled back terry cloth. "Zwieback!" Will pealed glee. "Your Swedish Grandma may have written skorpa on the recipe card, or like much of Europe adopted the name zwieback from the old German zwie - twice, and backen - to bake, twice baked. When I was a kid, my Mom shopped groceries at the local Lucky Seven and off the shelf bought boxed sweet zwieback for my teething baby sister. Thing is Mom usually bought two boxes at a time, because big brother loved chowing down on those tough little cookie-biscuits too."
"I just hope it is edible." Carol feared nother oops. "Sure is hard."
"Supposed to be hard." Will nodded. "Most cultures around the world bake it in one form or another, because twice baked to dry prevents spoilage. I love how your Grandma's version of it looks like it has little knobs to pick it up by. And I love that you took the time to cook this from scratch for us."
Tummy to tummy they k-i-k-i-k-i-kissed, interrupted by hunger growl of Carol tummy and resulting giggles.
"You know what goes with Zwieback?" Will more planned than asked.
"Whatever it is needs to be quick." Her tummy growled agreement.
"How does a salad sound, maybe seasoned with salt and pepper, a few dashes of mustard, a tad of minced garlic, two tads chopped parsley, all tossed with sweet malt vinegar and olive oil?" Will gave Carol his eyes wide open, head tilted sideways, why not look.
"Kill the garlic, add some sides of salami, ham, cheese, maybe some butter, peach jelly and coffee... Oh yeah!" Carol headed for frig.
And soon so it was as the house aired out, that thru open patio door... by candle light two sat at scarlet cloth covered table, shared hands, prayed thanksgiving, shared a sip of wine with the bread of better choice... a healthier meal made by them together and dubbed by Will, "Zwieback and Rescue Salad... just a swim in the sweet vinaigrette of life."
"What a recipe... love is..." So did Carol sing.
Jesus: "Love one another as I love you. Love one another, that your joy be full..." John 15:11&12.
The Zwieback In This Story
Dissolve tsp of sugar and 1/4 oz packet active dry yeast in 1/2 cup warm water. Then in a larger bowl combine the above with 3 cups flour, tbsp salt, 3/4 cup cooled melted butter, 2 cups cooled scalded milk... beat well... Next gradually add up to 3 more cups of flour to form a soft dough. On a lightly floured surface knead the dough bout 6 to 8 minutes til elastic and smooth. Put dough in a butter smeared bowl, cover with cloth, let rise until doubled (bout an hour or so). Pat down, Divide into 4 pieces, divide 3 of the pieces into 8 pieces each, hand roll into balls, place on butter coated baking sheets. Hand roll remaining 4th piece into 2 doz smaller balls, press onto tops of 2 doz larger balls. Cover with cloth, let rise a tad less than an hour. Remove cloth, bake til golden at 375 deg for about 30 minutes... and voila... Zwieback... great with soups, salads, gravies, cold cuts, cheese, butter, jelly, coffee or tea... and life and love...
"I am the bread of life." Jesus said of himself in John 6:48. Why did Jesus do the miracle (John 6:1-12) of feeding over 5,000 people with 5 loaves of bread and 2 small fish (awesome)? He explains in John 6:48-51 (awesomer and the reason for the title "Twice Baked"). All have earthly temporary lives; but only those that eat of the bread of Jesus gain heavenly lives eternal, the fullness of joy.)
No coincidence that the baby Jesus was born in Bethlehem, a town whose very name means House of Bread. Bethlehem, a town of bread bakers amid rolling hills of grain.
"Low altitude attitude has done me in again. What is wrong with me?" Carol dabbed tears from cheek with soft light hair. "Why can I not just stop being negative? I will never fly right." She whined a tad more, before the sound of driveway crash wrecked self-loathing, left ego smoldering...
The wind of Will Hope blew in thru open door, stirred sad smoke into swirling wisps with teaspoon of optimism. "Your car needed a new bumper anyway." A somewhat less than pudgy hubby held out his arms to wife.
"Ooohhh no," Carol Hope lamented, fell into his arms gainst teddy bear chest, jarred his glasses askew on nose.
"Or did I say wife gets a new car?" Will hugged her, felt on his cheek her tears in hair, kissed her ear.
"Oh, it's not the car, it's..." Carol sniffled, reached for, then held forth homemaker failure, "I ruined your favorite slacks."
"Well," Will plucked pants from her fingers, surveyed the damage, "What rankle hath wrinkle wrought?" He held pants up between them. Thru burnt hole Will right eye stared straight into the left eye of Carol. "Wow, I see you burned completely thru both sides of the leg. Not many bear such unwavering perseverance." He snickered, tossed pants aside, gave wife snug hug.
Carol slide hands up chest, cradled his cheeks in her soft hands. Blue eyes met brown. "Why are you not mad?"
"Cause I'm mad about you." Will matter of facted.
I'd be peeved, if you ironed a hole in my favorite dress." Carol stated, yet more questioned not hubby Will, but the will of self.
"Actually, I am furious." Will turned dark. "We must honor charred pant remains with proper burial neath stone epitaph of enigma: Twas perseverance too well done; betrayed sad pants undone."
"You are mocking me, because I am a professor of English Lit?" Carol narrowed those blue Swede eyes.
Will set in. "To mock, yet to..."
Carol gave both hubby love handles the stop and desist lobster pinch.
"Yeee-ouchee!" Will pulled claws loose, quipped away, "To mock, yet to weep, alas poor pants, shall pant no more." He emoted nother ig-mo gem, while keeping lobster claws at bay.
"Dust to dust yet to sweep; better not bitter for to sleep," Carol countered, punctuated with giggle.
"Something burning?" Will sniffed non-fragrant air.
"Duh! Charred pants!" Carol sang.
"Is that smoke coming from the kitchen?" Will sort a wondered.
"Ohhh no," Carol sung.
Together they opened windows, aired out the house called home. Together they dumped burnt pork chops and charred pants into trash receptacle near driveway, where Carol observed, "Your truck bumper sort a leapfrogged my car Lady Macduff''s bumper."
"Alas, poor Lady Macduff, sad wife knew you well." Will Hope sighed.
"Alas, poor husband new car buys," Carol gave sideways nod and rose lips smile.
Strolling arm and arm back to home back door, Will reflected, "Ya know, in a way I sure am glad my precious wife burned a hole in my favorite slacks." He emphasized with wide open eyes."Maybe little mini disasters happen in sync for a reason."
"Like saving your butt from the wrath of wife." Carol gave Will sly fox eyes and full tooth grin.
"Like saving us from... I love that little fox eating fried chicken look of yours." He marveled at rare find fine wife.
At his side, under his wing, Carol completed the distracted thought of Will, "Hard times always teach, sometimes save and at times even pull us together."
As they re-entered kitchen thru back door, Carol's tummy growled, reminded, "Well, an evening meal might have saved us from starving."
"Ah, but what is that I see covered in terry cloth atop yon stove?" Will found hope.
"Great Grandma Olla's home-made rolls," Carol offered. "At least I think that's what it is. The recipe card is the original and the title at top is for sure smudged with butter and probably milk."
"Let's give her a look." Will peeled back terry cloth. "Zwieback!" Will pealed glee. "Your Swedish Grandma may have written skorpa on the recipe card, or like much of Europe adopted the name zwieback from the old German zwie - twice, and backen - to bake, twice baked. When I was a kid, my Mom shopped groceries at the local Lucky Seven and off the shelf bought boxed sweet zwieback for my teething baby sister. Thing is Mom usually bought two boxes at a time, because big brother loved chowing down on those tough little cookie-biscuits too."
"I just hope it is edible." Carol feared nother oops. "Sure is hard."
"Supposed to be hard." Will nodded. "Most cultures around the world bake it in one form or another, because twice baked to dry prevents spoilage. I love how your Grandma's version of it looks like it has little knobs to pick it up by. And I love that you took the time to cook this from scratch for us."
Tummy to tummy they k-i-k-i-k-i-kissed, interrupted by hunger growl of Carol tummy and resulting giggles.
"You know what goes with Zwieback?" Will more planned than asked.
"Whatever it is needs to be quick." Her tummy growled agreement.
"How does a salad sound, maybe seasoned with salt and pepper, a few dashes of mustard, a tad of minced garlic, two tads chopped parsley, all tossed with sweet malt vinegar and olive oil?" Will gave Carol his eyes wide open, head tilted sideways, why not look.
"Kill the garlic, add some sides of salami, ham, cheese, maybe some butter, peach jelly and coffee... Oh yeah!" Carol headed for frig.
And soon so it was as the house aired out, that thru open patio door... by candle light two sat at scarlet cloth covered table, shared hands, prayed thanksgiving, shared a sip of wine with the bread of better choice... a healthier meal made by them together and dubbed by Will, "Zwieback and Rescue Salad... just a swim in the sweet vinaigrette of life."
"What a recipe... love is..." So did Carol sing.
Jesus: "Love one another as I love you. Love one another, that your joy be full..." John 15:11&12.
The Zwieback In This Story
Dissolve tsp of sugar and 1/4 oz packet active dry yeast in 1/2 cup warm water. Then in a larger bowl combine the above with 3 cups flour, tbsp salt, 3/4 cup cooled melted butter, 2 cups cooled scalded milk... beat well... Next gradually add up to 3 more cups of flour to form a soft dough. On a lightly floured surface knead the dough bout 6 to 8 minutes til elastic and smooth. Put dough in a butter smeared bowl, cover with cloth, let rise until doubled (bout an hour or so). Pat down, Divide into 4 pieces, divide 3 of the pieces into 8 pieces each, hand roll into balls, place on butter coated baking sheets. Hand roll remaining 4th piece into 2 doz smaller balls, press onto tops of 2 doz larger balls. Cover with cloth, let rise a tad less than an hour. Remove cloth, bake til golden at 375 deg for about 30 minutes... and voila... Zwieback... great with soups, salads, gravies, cold cuts, cheese, butter, jelly, coffee or tea... and life and love...
"I am the bread of life." Jesus said of himself in John 6:48. Why did Jesus do the miracle (John 6:1-12) of feeding over 5,000 people with 5 loaves of bread and 2 small fish (awesome)? He explains in John 6:48-51 (awesomer and the reason for the title "Twice Baked"). All have earthly temporary lives; but only those that eat of the bread of Jesus gain heavenly lives eternal, the fullness of joy.)
No coincidence that the baby Jesus was born in Bethlehem, a town whose very name means House of Bread. Bethlehem, a town of bread bakers amid rolling hills of grain.
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
DAFFODILS IN WHINEY LAND
Midst the vast west Texas desert the fingers of the Davis Mountains tickle the tummies of passing clouds, till they laugh, till they cry... that at buttes feet, the prairie grass grows twixt mountain toes...
"Never thought I'd be sitting in a hunting stand, rifle in hand, eating Skeddadles, and stalking the elusive va'moose." A not so long ago petite Dafnie peeped semi-complaint, popped another Skeddadle past lips.
"Pronghorn antelope, not va'mooses." While setting up camera on tripod, Shylee huffed, rolled one good eye, the one not glass. "Just keep your itchy trigger finger in check." He brushed errant strand of scraggly hair out of that one good eye, added, "That 30-30 carbine is here only to protect us from getting eaten."
"Yeah, I am sort a allergic to mountain lions chawing on my innards." Her brunette ponytail swished as Dafnie giggled a tad too enthusiastically. "Crud, I think I peed myself."
"Serves you right," Shylee smirked, gnawed off chunk of mesquite smoked garfish jerky. "Although," conscience gave Shylee gnaw of its own, "although, I might ought a be a smidge more empathetic to my precious little Daffodil." To utter pet name for wife Dafnie more often than not warmed his heart, brought smile to bewhiskered face. "How a pretty little thing like you ever got tangled up with the likes of me is blessed mystery."
"Now don't you get all mushy on me, fat boy." Dafnie popped nother Skeddadle, elbowed Shylee in the ribs.
"Just cause I ain't purdy don't mean I'm mean," Shylee took nother garfish jerky chaw, added, "nor insensitive, although maybe a tad dense at times."
Dafnie opened box of WhaleAhoy chocolate balls, plowed into them like a truffle rooting pig.
"You might ought a... save some for later," Shylee had nearly said... that awfully said, being distracted and all, while making final camera adjustments.
"Well, now I'm out of Skeddadles and WhaleAhoys. Got any chocolate almonds, or better yet, chocolate chip almond cookies?"
"What? You done plowed thru all that plus a family sized bag of BBQ potato chips, another of corn chips and two cans of jalapeno bean dip. Not to mention..."
"Maybe some lemon pie, I can almost taste it, yum!" Dafnie near drooled.
"Why are you stuck in whiney land and why are you eating like a hippo?" Shylee winced at that unwise whining of his own, shut his one good eye, let out under breath, "Oh-h-h, no."
Dafnie's nose rabbit twitched a bit before sniffling. From her brown eyes only one wee tear fought to stay clear... of right cheek.
"Sorry," Shylee understated the self-inflicted damage to his own heart; turned attention from camera to Dafnie.
"Cause I'm getting fat..." Dafnie broke out in magpie cry. "Got any smores? I smell smores?" She blubbered some more.
"Women and their mood swings." Shylee rolled good eye, the one not glass, then like most stupid men wished he had not said that too.
Dafnie cut loose low moan whine, that gradually grew to full siren alert.
"Otay, what's my little Daffodil's problem, besides me strolling down Jerk Lane?"
"I'm whining cause," Dafnie dabbed at tears with back of denim shirt sleeve.
"Yes," Shylee handed her hanky.
"I'm moody cause," Dafnie dabbed and sniffled.
"Yes," Shylee hugged her.
"I'm eating cause," Dafnie snuggled gainst his chest.
"Yes, my little Daffodil," he patted her back.
"Got any chocolate pickles?" Dafnie sort a oozed into low moan, revving up to near repeat siren alert.
Shylee hugged her closer to him, "Come on my little Daffodil," he kissed her forehead, "whatever it is, you can lay it on this old fart."
"I'm," Dafnie snuggled angel face next his neck.
"Yes," patient love filled Shylee chest.
"I'm eating," her hands pulled him closer.
"Yes," Shylee rolled that one good eye.
"I'm eating for," Dafnie sighed.
"Lord, please make her spit it out," Shylee pleaded.
"I'm eating for four," Dafnie confessed.
"But there is only one of you and one of me?" Shylee had no clue.
"There's fixin' to be five," Dafnie kind a softly whined, yet smiled.
"Of what?" Shylee questioned.
"Of three little Daffodils, plus us." She snuggled closer into him.
"There are no daffodils in whiney land," Shylee chuckled, nestled nose in her hair.
"All baby girls," Dafnie closed her eyes.
The pupil in Shylee's one good eye swelled to full iris, then shrunk to mere pinpoint. "A bouquet of little Dafnie Daffodils?"
Dafnie's eyes opened. Her nose rabbit twitched, led her straight to Shylee shirt pocket. "I smell garfish jerky," She said, then pocket pilfered.
"Daffodil blessings..." Shylee awwwed, then gulped, "and dirty diaper responsibilities."
"Sometimes tha less purdy... are purdiest of all..." Dafnie cooed, gnawed off healthy garfish jerky chaw.
Sometimes the less pretty... are the most beautifully blessed of all...
With great blessings... come great responsibilities...
The more you got... the more you got to take care of...
Season sweet romance... with herb of reality...
Perhaps, well actually no doubt about it, Jesus said it best: To whom much is given... much is required...
The one good eye: Keep focus on Jesus and on his commandments to love God and love one another. An eye rolling out of focus just gets us in trouble. And if it does start to roll... pray... for people may not be perfect... but God is...
Paw Paw loves all you little Daffodils out there...
"May the LORD bless thee, and keep thee: The LORD make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace." Numbers 6:24-26 KJ.
And remember: JESUS LOVES YOU... John 3:16
"Never thought I'd be sitting in a hunting stand, rifle in hand, eating Skeddadles, and stalking the elusive va'moose." A not so long ago petite Dafnie peeped semi-complaint, popped another Skeddadle past lips.
"Pronghorn antelope, not va'mooses." While setting up camera on tripod, Shylee huffed, rolled one good eye, the one not glass. "Just keep your itchy trigger finger in check." He brushed errant strand of scraggly hair out of that one good eye, added, "That 30-30 carbine is here only to protect us from getting eaten."
"Yeah, I am sort a allergic to mountain lions chawing on my innards." Her brunette ponytail swished as Dafnie giggled a tad too enthusiastically. "Crud, I think I peed myself."
"Serves you right," Shylee smirked, gnawed off chunk of mesquite smoked garfish jerky. "Although," conscience gave Shylee gnaw of its own, "although, I might ought a be a smidge more empathetic to my precious little Daffodil." To utter pet name for wife Dafnie more often than not warmed his heart, brought smile to bewhiskered face. "How a pretty little thing like you ever got tangled up with the likes of me is blessed mystery."
"Now don't you get all mushy on me, fat boy." Dafnie popped nother Skeddadle, elbowed Shylee in the ribs.
"Just cause I ain't purdy don't mean I'm mean," Shylee took nother garfish jerky chaw, added, "nor insensitive, although maybe a tad dense at times."
Dafnie opened box of WhaleAhoy chocolate balls, plowed into them like a truffle rooting pig.
"You might ought a... save some for later," Shylee had nearly said... that awfully said, being distracted and all, while making final camera adjustments.
"Well, now I'm out of Skeddadles and WhaleAhoys. Got any chocolate almonds, or better yet, chocolate chip almond cookies?"
"What? You done plowed thru all that plus a family sized bag of BBQ potato chips, another of corn chips and two cans of jalapeno bean dip. Not to mention..."
"Maybe some lemon pie, I can almost taste it, yum!" Dafnie near drooled.
"Why are you stuck in whiney land and why are you eating like a hippo?" Shylee winced at that unwise whining of his own, shut his one good eye, let out under breath, "Oh-h-h, no."
Dafnie's nose rabbit twitched a bit before sniffling. From her brown eyes only one wee tear fought to stay clear... of right cheek.
"Sorry," Shylee understated the self-inflicted damage to his own heart; turned attention from camera to Dafnie.
"Cause I'm getting fat..." Dafnie broke out in magpie cry. "Got any smores? I smell smores?" She blubbered some more.
"Women and their mood swings." Shylee rolled good eye, the one not glass, then like most stupid men wished he had not said that too.
Dafnie cut loose low moan whine, that gradually grew to full siren alert.
"Otay, what's my little Daffodil's problem, besides me strolling down Jerk Lane?"
"I'm whining cause," Dafnie dabbed at tears with back of denim shirt sleeve.
"Yes," Shylee handed her hanky.
"I'm moody cause," Dafnie dabbed and sniffled.
"Yes," Shylee hugged her.
"I'm eating cause," Dafnie snuggled gainst his chest.
"Yes, my little Daffodil," he patted her back.
"Got any chocolate pickles?" Dafnie sort a oozed into low moan, revving up to near repeat siren alert.
Shylee hugged her closer to him, "Come on my little Daffodil," he kissed her forehead, "whatever it is, you can lay it on this old fart."
"I'm," Dafnie snuggled angel face next his neck.
"Yes," patient love filled Shylee chest.
"I'm eating," her hands pulled him closer.
"Yes," Shylee rolled that one good eye.
"I'm eating for," Dafnie sighed.
"Lord, please make her spit it out," Shylee pleaded.
"I'm eating for four," Dafnie confessed.
"But there is only one of you and one of me?" Shylee had no clue.
"There's fixin' to be five," Dafnie kind a softly whined, yet smiled.
"Of what?" Shylee questioned.
"Of three little Daffodils, plus us." She snuggled closer into him.
"There are no daffodils in whiney land," Shylee chuckled, nestled nose in her hair.
"All baby girls," Dafnie closed her eyes.
The pupil in Shylee's one good eye swelled to full iris, then shrunk to mere pinpoint. "A bouquet of little Dafnie Daffodils?"
Dafnie's eyes opened. Her nose rabbit twitched, led her straight to Shylee shirt pocket. "I smell garfish jerky," She said, then pocket pilfered.
"Daffodil blessings..." Shylee awwwed, then gulped, "and dirty diaper responsibilities."
"Sometimes tha less purdy... are purdiest of all..." Dafnie cooed, gnawed off healthy garfish jerky chaw.
Sometimes the less pretty... are the most beautifully blessed of all...
With great blessings... come great responsibilities...
The more you got... the more you got to take care of...
Season sweet romance... with herb of reality...
Perhaps, well actually no doubt about it, Jesus said it best: To whom much is given... much is required...
The one good eye: Keep focus on Jesus and on his commandments to love God and love one another. An eye rolling out of focus just gets us in trouble. And if it does start to roll... pray... for people may not be perfect... but God is...
Paw Paw loves all you little Daffodils out there...
"May the LORD bless thee, and keep thee: The LORD make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace." Numbers 6:24-26 KJ.
And remember: JESUS LOVES YOU... John 3:16
Thursday, February 25, 2016
TAPIOCA SUNRISE
"Where the wild tapiocas grow, island life be kind a slow, swims in calm soothing flow; and for Thomas and I this change indeed be much needed," Lannie spoke into the light of sun rising from the sea. Sunbeams lit her auburn hair halo aglow. Her brown eyes smiled as riplet waves and white beach sand tugged at her toes. "No more faceless neighbors, no more concrete sidewalk myriads, not one tower of grey scraping scars into sunrise sky." Gentle island breeze caressed bare shoulders, danced in the hem of floral sarong, hugged the curves of her Garden of Eden like body. Her lips kissed sea salt air, "Please dear Lord above, in Jesus name I pray, help my Thomas to see the way."
But there sat Thomas a doubting in desk lamp woe; crunching numbers that crunched his soul. Thomas worrying much, accomplishing little, seeing desk top, seeing not thru open window precious wife framed in seaside sunrise glow. Fretting he was, fretting away that moment blessed on white sand shore; contemplating a move back to big city town and adding ad agency stress to relieve the stress of ill cash flow. And thus this muttering did Thomas Batach sow, "Why can Lannie not see the evitable cut low?"
Yet that later day noon in the kitchen, a yuca peeling Lannie and avocado preparing neighbor passed more than the time away... "Island delicacies are just too easy," a moppet haired Kim punctuated that said with a little grunt, as her baby bump bumped counter edge, thru avocado print T-shirt. She grasped avocado, traced around its ovalness with knife, split it apart, laid seed side up on counter.
"Your arms are barely long enough to reach that avocado," Lannied snickered.
"But us avocado farmers are a hardy breed." Kim slammed knife edge into avocado seed, grasped avocado half in palm, gave knife a twist. The seed stuck to blade. Kim set it aside, reached for spoon. With it she traced around the inside of peel, dolloped out avocado half in one smooth piece.
"You are one dangerous woman," Lannie smirked at her near poppin' pregnant pal, rendered her best Caribbean pirate imitation, "But I got carving of me own to do." She commenced yuca slicing for what she misnamed, "Avast yea tapioca fries."
"You have no idea what avast means, do you?" Kim chuckled.
"Not a clue," Lannie confessed, "but this captain of the kitchen be a saber welding pie-ratt and I'm a slicing me yuca asunder, then poking her to walk the plank into icy waters, to prevent discoloration of course. And also about to," she slashed last slice, "to par boil this stuff afore I fries 'er up in peanut oil."
"Poor yuca! Boiled in water, then fried in oil. Ouch!" Kim came aboard Lannie land. "Sounds like sweet culinary plan."
"Yeah, tasty plan, just pray Thomas finds one." Lannie's smile sagged a tad.
"Yeah, my guacamole is gonna be tasty." Kim smiled, hugged Lannie, whispered in her dear friends ear... "Have faith; do not fear."
And Lannie looked thru open window; saw two walking white sand shore... And Lannie smiled...
"Dude," Kim's husband, Bob, had a way with words, "Dude," Bob repeated, "so you are a few clam shells short of a reef. Wake up and smell the chowder."
"More like soon to smell the big city smog," Thomas grumbled.
"But Dude." Bob grabbed the arm of Thomas, half turned him to meet the half turn of his own.
Face to face, Thomas confided, "We are going to miss you guys, but I just don't see a way to stay."
"But Dude, have faith," Bob Bob-ismed, "like tapioca is like gold!"As he had spoken Bob's scraggly beach bleached hair and frayed straw hat had gone a floppin'.
"Just what did you season that chowder with?" Thomas truly wondered.
"Tapioca, its tapioca, tapioca is your answer." Bob nodded head like a dash board bobble head on country gravel road.
"Tapioca is a dessert." Thomas doubted, yet sensed his friend meant well.
"Tapioca pearls are made from what?" Bob struck mental match.
"The processed yuca root of the cassava plant?" Thomas knew, but connected not tapioca pearls to cash flow dots.
"Dude, when you moved here, you bought a neglected, dilapidated yuca farm. Remember when you first moved here Lannie thought the roots were sweet taters and you thought the tops were weeds?" Bob reminded. then ismed, "Well you got yuca all over the place, can you dig? I mean like literally dig; as in harvesting."
"There is money in tapioca?" Thomas ran hand thru short dark hair.
"Dude, tapioca is like just one yuca product. Sure you got your grocery shelf tapioca pearls in all sorts of tasty flavors, but there is also yuca flour for baking, yuca syrup for that baked, yuca industrial and pharmaceutical applications and even livestock feed. Dude, like yuca is like the giant peanut of the Caribbean." Bob ismed again.
"The giant peanut of the Caribbean... Yuca-A-Mok-A!!" Thomas' ad agency brain ran amok.
Like nine months like later... clad in island uniforms of frayed straw hats, yuca-avocado print T-shirts, and cut-off jeans... Dudes and Dude-ettes together on beach blankets sat. There sat Thomas with wife Lannie with child soon to be a poppin'. There sat Bob with wife Kim with baby Tim Bob cradled in arms. And Bob, well Bob ismed east out over the Caribbean waters into butterscotch Tapioca Sunrise, "Thank you LORD above in Jesus name for a keeping... our Christian hearts a beating... as one..."
The Miracle:
"Tapioca Sunrise" is itself a result of faith and prayer. But why was the name of the main character Lannie. I had no clue. In fact I tried most all the way thru writing the story to change the name from Lannie. Every time, I drew a blank; til near story end I wondered why does God insist her name be Lannie. So I looked it up on the internet. There I saw why a short story named "Tapioca Sunrise" had to have the main character named Lannie. Lannie is Hawaiian for... sky or heaven, or if you will sky of heaven.
Faith is trust... and when his children pray to The Creator of heaven and earth in his son's name, Jesus... well is anything too hard for God... Jeremiah 32:17; Proverbs 30:5; Philippians 4:6-7 and of course doubting Thomas: John 20:24-29
Other name meanings:
Thomas: as doubting Thomas from the Holy Bible
Batach: pronounced bawtekh (Thomas' last name) from Hebrew: make to trust.
Kim (Kimberley) (Eng.): royal forest meadow
Bob: (Ger.) famed, bright and shining
"Tapioca Sunrise" is the sequel to "Just Another Avocado Sunrise"... Check it out by clicking on this blog's menu the arrows to: 2014 then November
But there sat Thomas a doubting in desk lamp woe; crunching numbers that crunched his soul. Thomas worrying much, accomplishing little, seeing desk top, seeing not thru open window precious wife framed in seaside sunrise glow. Fretting he was, fretting away that moment blessed on white sand shore; contemplating a move back to big city town and adding ad agency stress to relieve the stress of ill cash flow. And thus this muttering did Thomas Batach sow, "Why can Lannie not see the evitable cut low?"
Yet that later day noon in the kitchen, a yuca peeling Lannie and avocado preparing neighbor passed more than the time away... "Island delicacies are just too easy," a moppet haired Kim punctuated that said with a little grunt, as her baby bump bumped counter edge, thru avocado print T-shirt. She grasped avocado, traced around its ovalness with knife, split it apart, laid seed side up on counter.
"Your arms are barely long enough to reach that avocado," Lannied snickered.
"But us avocado farmers are a hardy breed." Kim slammed knife edge into avocado seed, grasped avocado half in palm, gave knife a twist. The seed stuck to blade. Kim set it aside, reached for spoon. With it she traced around the inside of peel, dolloped out avocado half in one smooth piece.
"You are one dangerous woman," Lannie smirked at her near poppin' pregnant pal, rendered her best Caribbean pirate imitation, "But I got carving of me own to do." She commenced yuca slicing for what she misnamed, "Avast yea tapioca fries."
"You have no idea what avast means, do you?" Kim chuckled.
"Not a clue," Lannie confessed, "but this captain of the kitchen be a saber welding pie-ratt and I'm a slicing me yuca asunder, then poking her to walk the plank into icy waters, to prevent discoloration of course. And also about to," she slashed last slice, "to par boil this stuff afore I fries 'er up in peanut oil."
"Poor yuca! Boiled in water, then fried in oil. Ouch!" Kim came aboard Lannie land. "Sounds like sweet culinary plan."
"Yeah, tasty plan, just pray Thomas finds one." Lannie's smile sagged a tad.
"Yeah, my guacamole is gonna be tasty." Kim smiled, hugged Lannie, whispered in her dear friends ear... "Have faith; do not fear."
And Lannie looked thru open window; saw two walking white sand shore... And Lannie smiled...
"Dude," Kim's husband, Bob, had a way with words, "Dude," Bob repeated, "so you are a few clam shells short of a reef. Wake up and smell the chowder."
"More like soon to smell the big city smog," Thomas grumbled.
"But Dude." Bob grabbed the arm of Thomas, half turned him to meet the half turn of his own.
Face to face, Thomas confided, "We are going to miss you guys, but I just don't see a way to stay."
"But Dude, have faith," Bob Bob-ismed, "like tapioca is like gold!"As he had spoken Bob's scraggly beach bleached hair and frayed straw hat had gone a floppin'.
"Just what did you season that chowder with?" Thomas truly wondered.
"Tapioca, its tapioca, tapioca is your answer." Bob nodded head like a dash board bobble head on country gravel road.
"Tapioca is a dessert." Thomas doubted, yet sensed his friend meant well.
"Tapioca pearls are made from what?" Bob struck mental match.
"The processed yuca root of the cassava plant?" Thomas knew, but connected not tapioca pearls to cash flow dots.
"Dude, when you moved here, you bought a neglected, dilapidated yuca farm. Remember when you first moved here Lannie thought the roots were sweet taters and you thought the tops were weeds?" Bob reminded. then ismed, "Well you got yuca all over the place, can you dig? I mean like literally dig; as in harvesting."
"There is money in tapioca?" Thomas ran hand thru short dark hair.
"Dude, tapioca is like just one yuca product. Sure you got your grocery shelf tapioca pearls in all sorts of tasty flavors, but there is also yuca flour for baking, yuca syrup for that baked, yuca industrial and pharmaceutical applications and even livestock feed. Dude, like yuca is like the giant peanut of the Caribbean." Bob ismed again.
"The giant peanut of the Caribbean... Yuca-A-Mok-A!!" Thomas' ad agency brain ran amok.
Like nine months like later... clad in island uniforms of frayed straw hats, yuca-avocado print T-shirts, and cut-off jeans... Dudes and Dude-ettes together on beach blankets sat. There sat Thomas with wife Lannie with child soon to be a poppin'. There sat Bob with wife Kim with baby Tim Bob cradled in arms. And Bob, well Bob ismed east out over the Caribbean waters into butterscotch Tapioca Sunrise, "Thank you LORD above in Jesus name for a keeping... our Christian hearts a beating... as one..."
The Miracle:
"Tapioca Sunrise" is itself a result of faith and prayer. But why was the name of the main character Lannie. I had no clue. In fact I tried most all the way thru writing the story to change the name from Lannie. Every time, I drew a blank; til near story end I wondered why does God insist her name be Lannie. So I looked it up on the internet. There I saw why a short story named "Tapioca Sunrise" had to have the main character named Lannie. Lannie is Hawaiian for... sky or heaven, or if you will sky of heaven.
Faith is trust... and when his children pray to The Creator of heaven and earth in his son's name, Jesus... well is anything too hard for God... Jeremiah 32:17; Proverbs 30:5; Philippians 4:6-7 and of course doubting Thomas: John 20:24-29
Other name meanings:
Thomas: as doubting Thomas from the Holy Bible
Batach: pronounced bawtekh (Thomas' last name) from Hebrew: make to trust.
Kim (Kimberley) (Eng.): royal forest meadow
Bob: (Ger.) famed, bright and shining
"Tapioca Sunrise" is the sequel to "Just Another Avocado Sunrise"... Check it out by clicking on this blog's menu the arrows to: 2014 then November
Friday, January 1, 2016
THIN HIDES AND CAMOUFLAGED LIES
"Good morning ma'am, thank you for shopping Edenland Grocery. Did you find all you needed today?" Cashier Beth Ann smiled.
"What kind of stupid question is that!" Peggy Pagon slung arrow of error, pierced Beth Ann heart.
Standing behind Peggy in checkout line, Merci sighed; saw the hurt of arrow in Beth Ann eyes; wondered if the effort to be Peggy's friend was worth it and why had she gone shopping with such a dragon mouth. Merci bit her tongue till in the scorching summer concrete parking lot, till seated on the hot leather seat of Peggy's SUV. Before Peggy could turn the key to air conditioned heaven... "Ya know, Peggy," Merci took breath, "that chip on your shoulder ain't wood."
"What?" Not quite at blast off mode, Peggy contemplated pushing the launch button. "Just exactly, what are you saying, Merci?"
"It stinks..." Merci braved.
"So..." Peggy's shoe tapped not lightly on floorboard. "So you are saying I have what on my shoulder?" Peggy seethed thru sow pursed lips.
Merci folded arms, answered with a little mock floorboard toe tapping of her own. "I'm saying you have a thin hide, Peg." Merci did not flinch.
Peg's eyes flared, mouth breathed fire, "Get out. Get your butt out of this vehicle right now! I hate you!"
"Camouflaged lies," Merci looked Peg straight in the eyes.
"What?" Peg blinked.
"Thin hides and camouflaged lies," Merci shook head, softly continued, "do not hide what ails Peggy Pagon. Like smoke to the eyes, so is the veil of self told lies."
"Here we go again," Peg puffed that smoke, "burn me at the stake for non-conformity."
"Just the opposite," Merci down cheek shed tear of living water, "to keep you from burning."
Peg huffed an almost let it go, "You really believe that, don't you, Merci?" Peg teetered twixt bluster or muster. "I get the thin hide thing. I admit that I am a grouch. I just don't feel good and I take it out on innocent folks. I admit it, regret it, makes me even grouchier; but what do you mean by camouflaged lies?"
"Exhibit A: You just said you hate me, your best friend since seventh grade at Moody Jr. High. So, do you?" Merci sighed.
"Do I what?" Peg evaded.
Do you hate me?" Merci trembled.
Peg saw the tears well anew in the eyes of Merci. "Don't you cry, Merci Grace." Too late she repeated, "Don't you cry no more."
"Jesus," Merci breathed, "Jesus hopes to be your friend too. He loves you even more than I do. Can you even imagine the tears He shed for you?" Tears danced down the cheeks of Merci.
Transfixed, Peggy fell into the eyes of Merci. She reached out, touched that living water on Merci's cheek. And for a moment, a moment of eternity, Peg saw His eyes. "What is happening to me?" It was as if the tear she touched had entered her, now filled her eyes, cascaded, danced down her face as well... and Peg prayed, "Please, dear Jesus, never let this end."
And it came to pass, Peg held the hand of Merci Grace as they walked across hot concrete parking lot, back into the cool air conditioning of Edenland Grocery and straight as a righted arrow to the checkout line of one Beth Ann...
...Beth Ann, who before Peg could apologize, opened her arms, said, "I see an answered prayer."
Merci Grace sorta summed it up, "Everybody is going to checkout sometime... The paradise of cool air conditioning and warm hugs is a real good option..."
Note: This author kept wanting to change the name of Peggy Pagon. Every effort to do so met the no of a still small voice. And so it stayed, but I wondered why, as the parable progressed, I felt compelled to shorten the name to Peg. Peg... as in the hands of Jesus. For we have all pierced the hands of Jesus... yet He holds out his hands to us... and when we take His hand... we remain in His hand forever...
Romans 3:23 KJ, "For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God... 6:23 And the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."
John 10:28 KJ, "And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." Also found in Isaiah 49:16.
The hands of Jesus are mercy and grace... so should we all be also...
"What kind of stupid question is that!" Peggy Pagon slung arrow of error, pierced Beth Ann heart.
Standing behind Peggy in checkout line, Merci sighed; saw the hurt of arrow in Beth Ann eyes; wondered if the effort to be Peggy's friend was worth it and why had she gone shopping with such a dragon mouth. Merci bit her tongue till in the scorching summer concrete parking lot, till seated on the hot leather seat of Peggy's SUV. Before Peggy could turn the key to air conditioned heaven... "Ya know, Peggy," Merci took breath, "that chip on your shoulder ain't wood."
"What?" Not quite at blast off mode, Peggy contemplated pushing the launch button. "Just exactly, what are you saying, Merci?"
"It stinks..." Merci braved.
"So..." Peggy's shoe tapped not lightly on floorboard. "So you are saying I have what on my shoulder?" Peggy seethed thru sow pursed lips.
Merci folded arms, answered with a little mock floorboard toe tapping of her own. "I'm saying you have a thin hide, Peg." Merci did not flinch.
Peg's eyes flared, mouth breathed fire, "Get out. Get your butt out of this vehicle right now! I hate you!"
"Camouflaged lies," Merci looked Peg straight in the eyes.
"What?" Peg blinked.
"Thin hides and camouflaged lies," Merci shook head, softly continued, "do not hide what ails Peggy Pagon. Like smoke to the eyes, so is the veil of self told lies."
"Here we go again," Peg puffed that smoke, "burn me at the stake for non-conformity."
"Just the opposite," Merci down cheek shed tear of living water, "to keep you from burning."
Peg huffed an almost let it go, "You really believe that, don't you, Merci?" Peg teetered twixt bluster or muster. "I get the thin hide thing. I admit that I am a grouch. I just don't feel good and I take it out on innocent folks. I admit it, regret it, makes me even grouchier; but what do you mean by camouflaged lies?"
"Exhibit A: You just said you hate me, your best friend since seventh grade at Moody Jr. High. So, do you?" Merci sighed.
"Do I what?" Peg evaded.
Do you hate me?" Merci trembled.
Peg saw the tears well anew in the eyes of Merci. "Don't you cry, Merci Grace." Too late she repeated, "Don't you cry no more."
"Jesus," Merci breathed, "Jesus hopes to be your friend too. He loves you even more than I do. Can you even imagine the tears He shed for you?" Tears danced down the cheeks of Merci.
Transfixed, Peggy fell into the eyes of Merci. She reached out, touched that living water on Merci's cheek. And for a moment, a moment of eternity, Peg saw His eyes. "What is happening to me?" It was as if the tear she touched had entered her, now filled her eyes, cascaded, danced down her face as well... and Peg prayed, "Please, dear Jesus, never let this end."
And it came to pass, Peg held the hand of Merci Grace as they walked across hot concrete parking lot, back into the cool air conditioning of Edenland Grocery and straight as a righted arrow to the checkout line of one Beth Ann...
...Beth Ann, who before Peg could apologize, opened her arms, said, "I see an answered prayer."
Merci Grace sorta summed it up, "Everybody is going to checkout sometime... The paradise of cool air conditioning and warm hugs is a real good option..."
Note: This author kept wanting to change the name of Peggy Pagon. Every effort to do so met the no of a still small voice. And so it stayed, but I wondered why, as the parable progressed, I felt compelled to shorten the name to Peg. Peg... as in the hands of Jesus. For we have all pierced the hands of Jesus... yet He holds out his hands to us... and when we take His hand... we remain in His hand forever...
Romans 3:23 KJ, "For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God... 6:23 And the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."
John 10:28 KJ, "And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand." Also found in Isaiah 49:16.
The hands of Jesus are mercy and grace... so should we all be also...
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