Slow Down, Oh Speeding Clock!

It’s almost suppertime here on the prairie. The day has hastened on, as days seem to. It’s Saturday and the municipal landfill (aka “dump”) was open, so we filled our car with garbage & recycling and hauled it all to the dump. Every farm and acreage must look after their own out here in the country.

I rode along with Bob just for the fun of it. 😉 The weather today has been intermittently sunny and overcast; as we drove the maybe-sixteen miles there and back I observed the sky full of lumpy clouds that seemed to bumble along. They have passed on and the sun came out.

Right now my half of our office looks rather shambolic — a new word I picked up over at Merriam-Webster. As you can guess, it comes from shambles and means “a great confusion or mess.” In reparation for hauling recycling to the dump, and just on the general principle of getting rid of clutter, my husband (a bookkeeper) went through a bunch of old records yesterday and piled them at my corner, next to the shredder. Last night and this morning I was shredding and filling garbage bags with paper recycling — to be made into who knows what? I got half done; the rest awaits my attention.

But back to the title of this post and the incident that sparked it. Have you noticed that the days, weeks, months go by WAY too fast. I decided a few days ago to just make my morning coffee instant. I checked the date, as I do once every blue moon, I discovered that the almost full jar of instant coffee, which I bought about six months ago, expired Feb 1st, 2019. When six months turns into a year and a half, is that not proof that time goes by WAY too fast?

Speaking of blue moons, and other heavenly times, are you planning to watch the solar eclipse on Sunday?

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning was CLOISTERED, which comes from cloister, a religious enclave, a place or state of seclusion, which comes from the Latin root verb, “to close.” Since I rarely make tea for myself, I’ve cloistered a number of misc. assorted teas up in a top cupboard. Waiting there for me to get the notion for a cup of tea, the leaves are likely returning to the dust from whence they came.

However, my jar of instant coffee is in the main traffic area, right by the cocoa mix and peanut butter. How could I have neglected it so long? Not to be wasteful, I’m now drinking a lot of instant coffee. After all, those grounds are good forever — or at least another six months.

I have to admit, though, that apart from the swift flight of time, my problems are small ones — for which I’m very thankful. I had a blood test last week Monday followed by a phone consultation with my oncologist on Thursday, and she says my blood counts are all perfect: she can’t see from my blood-work that I ever had leukemia. And that’s something to rejoice about!

So I’ll close with this little poem:

We thank Thee, Father, for the care
that did not come to try us,
the burden that we did not bear,
the trouble that passed by us,
the task we did not fail to do,
the hurt we did not cherish,
the friend who did not prove untrue,
the joy that did not perish.

We thank Thee for the blinding storm
that did not lose its swelling
and for the sudden blight of harm
that came not nigh our dwelling.
We thank thee for the dart un-sped,
the bitter word unspoken,
the grave unmade, the tear unshed,
the heart-tie still unbroken.

The Cooking Adventure

Sue, over at JibberJabber, has issued a mega-challenge: to use as many words as possible from the May daily prompts. So here’s my tale, using most of them:

The Cooking Adventure

Sherry, a lively, active thirteen-year-old, was late coming home from school one day. Her mom was already home from her job at the office when Sherry walked in carrying four large books.

This surprised her mother, who’d never seen Sherry do that much reading before. “Do you have a lot of studying to do this weekend,” her mother asked, eyeing the books. “Or some essay to write?” Then she took a closer look. “Cookbooks?”

“I am going to learn to cook,” Sherry announced.

Mom looked through the stack Sherry set on the counter. “Old Time Favorites. That sounds good. Baking: The Science Behind Success. Explore Mediterranean Cuisine.” Mom’s eyebrows arched. “What brought this on?”

“I got a letter from Marlys yesterday. She said…” Sherry’s tone was frosty…”I’ve never had to anything around the house. She thinks I’m so pampered because we have a housekeeper. She says I’m just like a flower in a greenhouse: if I had to keep house or cook, I wouldn’t know where to start. Well, I’m going to show her. I’m going to create some fabulous dishes and invite her over to try them.”

“I suppose your cousin has to help a lot at home and may be a bit jealous of you, but you shouldn’t let her comments grate on you. Still, it would be good for you to learn. I’ve been so busy with work all, I just haven’t had the energy to give you cooking lessons, but I’m happy that you want to learn. I’ll give you all the support I can. I see you brought A Beginner’s Guide to Cooking. That author has made a name both as a celebrated chef and as a class instructor. I think this is an excellent book to start with.”

Sherry’s first creation was a lemon soufflé. Mom showed her how to break the eggs and separate the yolks from the whites and whip the whites to stiff peaks. Sherry followed the recipe carefully and soon had the smooth batter in the pan, ready for the oven. She slid it in and turned on the timer. Mom gave her a short lesson on how to tell when the pudding was done, then went to do some laundry.

Sherry was delighted with her success thus far. She had to call her friend Heather to relate the story of her new cooking adventure. She was still on the line when the timer went and she didn’t hear it. At one point Mom rushed by and a moment later Sherry smelled something burnt.

Sherry hurried to the kitchen, but the damage was done. The soufflé had risen as it was supposed to, but now it was ruined. Sherry let out a wail of anguish

“There. You’ve just had a free cooking lesson. Distractions can spoil the best food.” Mom put an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll have better luck next time. Learning to cook is a challenge, but if you stick with it and don’t give up, you may be a great chef someday.”

Prompt words used:
old, time, create, food, line, letter, relate, smooth, story
luck, free, explore, break, light, science, hurry, flower
name, short, carefully, support, book, challenge, happy

Potluck Offering


robin joins
our impromptu picnic
brings the sushi

🙂

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Messin’ and learnin’…

With the new Block Editor, if you embed
an Inline image, your image can be resized
but not moved independently. Unless you choose to
change the text position — which moves the whole block.

Grannie Brown

chocolate-chip-cookies-940428_640
Image: Pixel 1 from Pixabay

Soft-hearted dear, Grannie Brown
was friend to the children in town.
When the smell of her baking
spread hopes of partaking,
in minutes, guess who’d be around.

🙂

This limerick, a tale from “the good old days,” is my contribution today to National Poetry Month.

Sandwich Spread

Sandwich.freeThe Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is SANDWICH

You’re all welcome to join the fun and post a poem, prose, photo, pertaining to the noble SANDWICH. And since I was the one who offered this prompt, I’d better respond, too. Here’s a little story my mom-in-law once told.

Years ago a busy mother, approaching middle age and broadening her…er…personal horizon, was visiting her doctor and he was concerned about her weight problem. (This was back in the 50s, while it was politically okay for a doctor to mention such things.)

“Your heart’s under too much strain, Helen. I think for your heart, and for the good of your overall health, that you’d better take off some of that weight.”

Helen sighed. “I’ve tried cutting back, but I just can’t seem to lose a pound. Even when I eat less and am on the run all day, I still don’t lose weight.”

“What foods do you normally eat?”

“Whatever I can put between two slices of bread.”

“Ah!” The doctor smiled. “Let’s start there.”

Have Some of My Cake

Good morning to all my readers and followers.

Bright sunshine forecasting a beautiful day and I’m celebrating my birthday by having a coffee, doing the laundry, and generally staying home and avoiding all human contact. 🙂

Not quite true, as I’m cooking supper at the seniors’ residence this afternoon; also, my dear husband gave me a card and a kiss before he left to pick up a few groceries. Thankfully,  I can visit online as well, so won’t you all join me this morning for a cup of coffee, a piece of cake, and a few relevant verses.

CoffeeCake.Farooq Sharif

Here are a few haiku I wrote yesterday, combining thoughts of warmer days to come with our current situation:

morning joggers
run rings around
my safe space

a bumblebee
not knowing the law
comes way too close

if only mosquitoes would get the point of social distancing