Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween! Last night I accommodated Daniel by smuggling him some fake blood to use as shock (and fun) factor in his bicycle race, the Spooky Spoke :) In turn, he ate my brains out. Yay! Today after church, i bought some Halloween candy for the neighbor kids...butterfingers and hot tamales. did i do good? I was hoping for the flavored tootsie rolls (my FAVORITE!) but...those two are also my favorite. Get this: they were replacing the rapidly depleting halloween candy with red, white, and green candy! christmas is Out Of Control!! merry christmas already!
anyway...today's poem is a recycled zombie poem i wrote a couple months ago, but as it's halloween, tis fitting. i hope you all get lots of candy, even if you are too old for trick-or-treatin'. rot them teeth!

Once I was a human, many happy years ago.
Today I am a zombie, and I'd like you all to know
That zombies have it pretty rough: The living want us dead,
And there's no law restraining them from bashing in our heads.
So here I call for compromise--we Have to have some brains,
But You could choose them--how 'bout those from the criminally insane?
Or ponder this: how many brains Are hardly ever used--
For TV turns them all to mush (Poor brains! You're so abused!)
Don't let a good mind go to waste! We have a use for it!
Now can't you see this plan is for our mutual benefit?
We'll work together, fight for peace, till loving kindness reigns:
Our right to live an undead life--your right to use your....BRAINS!!!

Poor Basil...

Good afternoon! Quick poem today, a flash-"inspiration" i had a few moments ago when I looked over at my potted sweet basil and realized that, alas, it might not make it :( my roommate and I had to scurry last night to get all our plants in because there was a Freeze Warning out--i also had to dig up/pot two hibiscuses in the icy dark, and the aforementioned basil. The back yard hibiscus was about to blossom, so today it looks radiant and gorgeous...but the basil? Not so much. I think the dirt may not be aerated enough. Seems kinda clay-ey. In other news, I apparently got something of a marriage proposal today, resulting from a man's eating an espresso cake that i made for my roommate to take to work :) Yay Warren Brown and Cake Love! And...tonight...i am going to COOK! not bake. cook. a chicken/noodle/bell pepper/green olive etc recipe. this is a big step...both my roommate and my boyfriend need carbs for some races tomorrow! yay and good luck!! oh, and the sepia-toned picture is of this wonderful dutch idea: chocolate sprinkles on buttered toast. my nana sent me the sprinkles after a trip to holland...today i bought toast. toast it dark! delicious :)

Basil, please don't wilt away
And leave me to the fate
Of eating bland spaghetti--oh!
Please say it's not too late
For watering, for fertilizer,
Anything you need--
Just say the word, the world is yours,
Sweet Basil! Hear me plead,
Behold my tears, the horror of
Your most untimely loss.
Without you, I've just cooked tomatoes,
Not a sumptuous sauce. :( *

*the sad smiley is part of the poem, it's that dreadful :)

Sweet-Tooth Confessional

Today was a near-perfect day! Slept in, baked an espresso cake (different from a coffeecake...because it actually contains ground coffee! :) , went to the gym (muscles muscles here i come!), went to Doubleshot where I got to sit/chat with a friend and write the following poem, then Mod's Coffee and Crepes downtown for dinner, then HOME! for a nice quiet evening. Started a translated book called Black Rain by Japanese author Masuji Ibuse about the aftermath of the bombing of Hiroshima. Ran across it at Gardner's books and bought it because I've never read any literature on that, especially from a Japanese perspective. Quote from the back cover: "A novel based on real diaries and interviews with survivors of the bombing of Hiroshima, Black Rain probes deeply into the emotional significance of nuclear attack on ordinary people." Promises to be eye-opening/heart-breaking.
On a lighter note, today's poem:

Here's a vice I'd not confess
To anyone but you:
Sometimes, late at night, I eat
A piece of cake...or two.
I sneak across our shadowed hall
On silent, slippered feet--
I open up the kitchen door,
My heart begins to beat
Quite loud, it seems, but no one hears--
They're deep into their dreams--
And there's the cake! I cut a slice,
And top it with whipped cream.
Nightmares follow, I'm afraid,
Whene'er I pull this trick,
So sometimes I'm afraid the thought
Of cake might make me sick.
It hasn't yet, though, and my urge
For midnight pastry snacks,
Like letters to a callous love,
Predictably comes back.
It's strange, though: I'm convinced I'm not
The only one like me--
I think that this corrupted strain
Runs through my family.
Some nights we go to bed while one
Whole cake sits in the fridge,
But when the morning dawns, what's left?
Not even one small smidge.
And I--I swear!--have but consumed
A single piece...or two.
I hope they all confess their sins,
As I've confessed to you.

A Latte and a Green Star

Today, over coffee, i asked Daniel to give me a topic for my next poem. He cut out a small paper star with an exacto knife, colored it green, and gave it to me. :) Here's what was written:

Last night I discovered
To my very great surprise,
While looking through my telescope,
A wonder in the skies:
One star shone green, bright neon green,
Not yellow like the rest--
"That couldn't be a ball of flame!"
I mused with interest.
"What could it be composed of, then?
Lime jello, possibly,
That jiggles as it floats around
In zero-gravity.
Perhaps it is a giant frog
That eats the stars like flies--
And maybe planets, too, and we
Are all about to die!
I'll bet it has a tongue a million,
Billion miles long,
That could reach as just as easily
As I could sing a song!
Ugh, now I'm merely panicking!
Stop panicking, and think!
Just count to ten, take deeper breaths,
Go grab an ice-cold drink...
That's better. There's the star again...
Oh dear, I think it moved!
What if it IS a frog, and my
Hypothesis is proved--
Proved by our death! Too late for fame
Or scientific clout--
Oh dear, I feel like a baited,
Hooked, and helpless trout!
It's closer--yikes, it is a frog!
And naught can save us now!
It's HUGE! It leaps...off nothing...
And all I can say is...wow.
What's this? It's passed us by?
It isn't hungry after all!
I'm so relieved! It needs a name.
I think I'll call him Paul!"

Can't. Draw. Birds.

This is Trouble the Cat. Sitting regally (with an air of boredom) on a bed.
First order of business: http://blog.doubleshotcoffee.com/
Read the entry titled "Nekisse". You will want to buy this coffee. I want to buy this coffee. Superb writing, delicious coffee. Fantastic.
The two avians in the second picture are a Puddleduck and a Cuckoo from today's poem. That is the most identifiable version of them that i was able to draw. Somehow, i managed to capture the cuckoo's half-longsuffering, half-trepidatious quality! :) But I couldn't keep it up. So...use your imagination as you read this poem:

"Cuckoo, dear," said Puddleduck,
"I think it's time you knew
That swimming is the greatest thing
A bird could ever do!"
"But I'm not built like you!" frowned cuckoo,
"Darling, stop and think:
Your feet are webbed, you're born to float!
But I would surely sink!"
"Aw, you're just scared," sniffed Puddleduck,
"And talking like I'm dumb!"
She cried five tears, till Cuckoo sighed,
"Alright, I guess I'll come."
"Hooray! You won't be sorry! I'm
So happy I could burst!"
"Please don't. I couldn't take it if
This day got any worse."
They reached the pond and dipped their toes,
Then quickly drew them out--
"You're kidding, right?!" shrieked Cuckoo.
Puddleduck began to pout.
"Stupid winter! I forgot.
Well, isn't this just great?"
"Don't fret," said Cuckoo, brightening,
"I'd love to learn to skate!"
They waited for a couple days
Until the pond was ice,
Then skated to their heart's content,
"Oh yeah, this is the life!"

Quotes and a Rhyming Rant :)

So...i can't say no to fundraising schoolchildren. I have supported a basketball team, bought boy scout popcorn (where is it?!), and, as of a second ago, a bar of the "World's Finest Chocolate" (which it isn't...). I guess i figure that other people need my money as much as i do, which may or may not be true. for certain, i don't need the chocolate. sigh. Anyhow, here are a couple fun quotes from books i've been reading. The first is from "The Education of Little Tree" by Forrest Carter; the second, from "The All New Complete Book of Bicycling" by Eugene A. Sloane.

Little Tree and his grandfather are growing watermelons, with Little Tree waiting impatiently for them to ripen. He describes a few ways to test for ripeness in a watermelon. Here is one of them: "You have to know what you are doing to thump test a watermelon and make any sense out of it. If you thump it and it sounds like a--"think"--it is total green; if it sounds--"thank"--it is green but is coming on; if it goes--"thunk"-then you have got you a ripe watermelon. You have got two chances to one against you, as Granpa said is true in everything."

Talking of the burgeoning bicycle craze in the late 1800s: "The bicycle craze even alarmed businessmen in major cities for a while. They thought the bicycle would bring the nation to economic collapse, and there were a number of compelling statistics to bear them out...By 1896, the watch and jewelry business had fallen almost to zero, piano sales had been cut in half, and book sales had dropped disastrously. Apparently, no one stayed home and played the piano or read, and instead of buying jewelry, people bought bicycles."

And, in closing, an idealistic rant against working dead-end, hateful jobs :)

Flitter 'way a year or two
In travelling 'round the globe,
In learning to play bongos, or
To knit yourself a robe
Using the wool of your own lambs
And dyed with berries you have picked..
Just don't waste time to make a dime
On work that makes you sick!

Lose an hour here or there
By dreaming up a plot
Where good guys dress in tutus and
The bad guys dress in naught.
Or learn to trim an evergreen
Like Edward Scissorhands...
Just don't spend time to make a dime
On work that you can't stand!

Excuse me now, I have to learn
To draw a wildebeest.
Be wise, be ware, be penniless,
But be yourself, at least!

Fox Fears and Other Matters

Woo-hoo! Image-loader! Alright, the shirts. Woot.com sells a shirt-of-the-day, and when they get too many extra, they have a "random shirt" day--you pay them $6.99, and they send you a random shirt. So a couple weeks ago, Daniel and i were checking woot.com, and lo-and-behold! Random Shirt Day! We went for it. First time ever, for me. Waited impatiently and finally on Tuesday they arrived! we opened the package together, and my first reaction was, "oh my goodness what the heck is that?!" because my shirt, as seen in the picture, is a portrait of Admiral Ackbar (sp?) from The Last Starfighter...a movie i still haven't seen, although now at least i have heard about it. You can't tell from the picture, but he has his fingers caught in a Chinese Finger Trap, which has something to do with a line of his from the movie in which he frantically yells, "It's a trap!" That's all i know. :) but his ugly little face quickly grew on me and i am proud to wear him. The Really incredible part was part 2, Daniel's shirt. Which is a caustic pizza/chef growling, "do you want a piece of this?" Why so great? Because Tuesday happens to be...$5.00 pizza night at Joe Momma's! And we opened the package right before leaving, under agreement that we would wear whatever they'd delivered. so, a pizza shirt just in time for pizza night, how crazy is that?! :) and an adorable, confusable alien.
Today's poem is about a Fox with a million phobias that threaten to utterly cripple him and turn him into a recluse. my biggest fears are highways and being awkward in conversation (which inevitably leads to greater awkwardness) :) sometimes, it'd be easier not to leave the house...but thank goodness for city streets and 40 mph. :) His name is Fozzle. Here he is:

Tripping over tricky rocks,
Or muddying some brand-new socks
Were two fears that kept Fozzle Fox
Holed-up within his lair.

"A bit of sunlight might be nice,
But what if I run into...mice?!
Or catch a batch of fleas or lice?
Go out? I'd never dare!"

But Spring was in the laughing breeze
That tickled all the dancing trees.
He thought of birds, remembered bees,
And Fozzle Fox grew sad.

"What if what I fear up there,
Like mud and moss and matted hair,
Or being bullied by a bear
Is really not so bad?"

He fretted over this for days--
His heart said "aye", his mind said "nay!"
But suddenly, he could not stay
Inside a second more.

And so, he packed an extra pair
Of socks, and brushes for his hair,
Repellent 'gainst both bugs and bears--

And Fozzle faced his door....

Well. NOT Random Shirts

Yikes, blogger has disabled their image uploads for maintenance. And the two images I wished to upload go along with a story i wanted to tell involving my first experience with "Random T-Shirt day" from woot.com. It won't be the same unless you can actually see the shirts. So. Next time.
Here is a song. Sometimes it is more relaxing to just sit down with a guitar instead of trying to write a poem knowing that after the poem is complete, you still have to illustrate it, then photograph the illustration, etc etc (not that you Have to do all these things, but I'd Like to). And singing is one of my favorite things, anyway. The first two lines of this poem were inspired by a phone call from my friend/landlord this morning--apparently there was a shooting down the street from my house. :( Of course, from there the lyrics groove back into the theme of lost love...because when i'm not writing about goofy, phobic(?) animals, it Has to be love, apparently. :) ah well. the chord progression is: D G e C D b G A D. major key, with minor, melancholy elements:

I. Gunshot in the distance
Waiting
Is there never anyone at
Home?
You know--he left here this
Morning, saying
Darling, I won't leave you
Alone.

II. Frost climbs ev'ry
Window
I left one candle burning
Just for you.
I'm asleep, but not in our
Bedroom,
And dreaming a nightmare
Or two.

III. There could be more than one
Reason
And I've searched the whole world
Over
I've grown old, I have learned ev'ry
Season
'Cause my heart bears the marks of a
Rover

IV. Tell me I've not wasted my
Living
Tell me I'm still young and
Beautiful
Oh, please say, I have time left for
Loving
But it hurts, and my footstep falls
Slow

A Vulture and his Vanity

Hooray, new bike project! This is a Free Spirit "Greenbriar" I bought at a Wichita Farmer's Market for $30 during a trip home and, coincidentally, Bike to Work Week. Which meant...someone was selling a bike at the market! My first "my" bike was a also a hunter's green Free Spirit (purchased at G Oscar's in Tulsa), although I learned yesterday that my original bike is of higher quality than this one. It has mainly to do with welding, which I know very very (very) little about. But here are two lovely phrases that are (I believe) related to bike-related welding: "double-butted" and "with lugs". The bike above is a little lacking in the lugging :) It is also rust-encrusted, as seen in picture two. Break out the steel wool!!! Now i wish i'd drawn a picture of a steel sheep. :( Maybe next time. Today's poem is a little all-over-the-place. I couldn't get it to gel. But it's about a Vulture who is disgusted by his looks. I think this one is a subconscious manifestation of my on-going War Against Acne, which i just cannot seem to win. But...we are not finished yet. :) Here's Vernon Vulture's poem:

Vernon Vulture made a mask
To hide his naked head--
He never dared remove it,
Even when he went to bed.
"For who would be my friend if they
Saw this?!" The Vulture cried,
"It's difficult to eat the dead
When I look like I've died!"
But Vernon's handiwork was...let's say...
Juvenile, at best.
His second face, though more fleshed-out,
Looked mopey and depressed.
"At least it's handsome--like a prince!"
The vain old vulture mused.
But then he noticed: Ev'ryone
Who met him, left confused.
"A bird who bears a human face?
What new-found beast was that?"
So Vernon, over-hearing, blushed,
And bought himself a hat.
"This wide-brimmed hat will do the trick!
Forget the silly mask!
I'll shroud myself in shadow, and
If anybody asks
To see my face, I'll simply say
'The sunlight hurts my eyes'--
And if they press the matter, I'll
Find refuge in the skies!
I'll tell them, to complete the trick,
I'm just a common crow.
If they suggest I'm far to large,
I'll glare, and challenge: 'So?'

A Cautionary Llama Tale

Home grown peppers! My garden produced something edible! besides the Monstrous Basil Plant...i am very proud of my basil. Both peppers and assorted garden herbs went into making yummy pasta sauce tonight, which was enjoyed on our porch swing with Daniel (who is cook far superior to me). Yay!
Today's poem was inspired by a doodle drawn on my forearm by a coworker. He said it was an obese llama. I said its name was Harold. And now Harold has a poem, with additional illustrations :) Here it is (I am clearly not "recovered" from my visit to the calorie-fest that is the state fair. Yes, it was a wonderful evening though):

Harold the llama was slightly obese,
For all of his eatings were smothered in grease:
He never ate veggies except they were fried,
And fruits are some foodstuffs he cannot abide.
The fair is his favorite place in the world,
Where all of his cravings are proudly unfurled--
For no one dares give him a look of disgust
When he orders fried pie with an oreo crust,
Or butter--yes, butter!--twice-battered in lard--
For ev'ryone's let down their health-conscious guard!
"Oh, wonderful fair!" smacks the sticky-lipped beast,
"Where else could one find such a junk-foodie feast?
And now, I will go for a short little ride,
Giving time for my meal to settle inside."
Poor Harold imagined he'd ride on the cars
That whisk you, on wires, way up to the stars
So you see all the sparkling lights down below...
But the weight of his choices was starting to show.
The car was too small and the wire too weak.
They shoved him inside, but the wire went "Crrrrreeaaak..."
As it lifted him one measly foot off the earth,
Which caused Harold to ponder his sizable girth:
"Perhaps...I could eat...ev'ry Saturday night...
A celery stalk...or at least take a bite.
Just one night per week should be, well, possible...
But, at the same time, frankly, well, horrible.
Still, my goal for next year is to ride to the moon--
And to make all the petting zoo she-llamas swoon!"

Pizza Recipe!

Good evening--so, somehow I have been unusually busy the last few days--that is, too busy to write poetry :( But here is the delicious pizza recipe from my Aunt Allison! I don't know where it came from originally, but if anyone recognizes it from somewhere else, please let me know where it's from! I made a homemade pizza crust which is nice and simple, and highly recommended--i'm sure there are many recipes online--you just have to make sure you start it ahead of time so it has a couple hours to rise.

Tomato and Corn Pizza

3 small tomatoes, sliced
1/4 tsp salt
1/8 tsp freshly ground pepper
1/3 c refrigerated pesto
1/2 c fresh corn kernels
1/4 c grated parmesan cheese
1 tsp sugar
8 oz fresh mozzarella
3 T fresh whole or torn basil leaves
Pizza Crust

1. Preheat oven to 450. Place the tomatoes on paper towels and season with salt and pepper. Set aside for 20 min.

2. Line baking sheet with parchment paper and roll the pizza crust onto it. Top with pesto. Mix corn, parmesan, and sugar. Distribute corn mixture on top of pesto, and the tomato slices on top of that. Slice the mozzarella and arrange it on top.

3. Bake for 14 minutes or until cheese is melted and golden. Remove from oven. Top with basil.

Silly Songs with Tara

Good afternoon! No pictures today...I'm hoping to post quickly and go on a bike ride. :) Yea! Looking forward to baking squash/chicken tonight with Jenny, and a rum cake! The pizza last night was delicious...and i will be happy to share the recipe as soon as i find it...oops :( For now, here are two little ditties...the first is in the key of a minor, and it sounds kind of gypsy (maybe? definitely eerie). Its lyrics are in the vein of old "lost love" ballads. I have a Folk Song Songbook full of them, if anyone wants to have a singalong! :) The second i wrote just a few minutes ago, in the key of G, so it's more upbeat and fun. Neither of them have anything to do with my current romantic situation (which i am quite happy with), but these things (lyrics) just happen once you've gathered a few chords together. Oh, and i just noticed that this makes two poems/songs in a row that contain the name "Bill." I guess that's what happens when you let yourself sit comfortably in a simple rhyme scheme, or go all-in for alliteration (see yesterday's poem). Ah well. :)

Faux Flowers

I. Find me an indigo flower
The kind that only blooms in the dark
Pluck it precisely at the midnight hour
I need its poison to heal my heart.

II. Fetch me a rose from the thorniest briar
But don't get scratched or its power will fade.
If you want all your heart has ever desired
Bring me the rose, and we'll make a trade

III. Search for a daisy that grows in the desert,
Search for a lily that thrives in the sand.
One will do, but both would be better...
Deliver them here, and you'll understand.

IV. Flowers grown in imagination
Are sweeter than a bouquet from a man
You kiss him in love, and anticipation--
He promises gardens you'll never have.

Pearl's Song
I. My name's Pearl I'm just a
Simple girl, I live in a
World of dreams and
Laughter
His name's Bill. I know he
Never will Love me but
Still I dream of happily
Ever after.
Ch.
Maybe I could catch his dark brown eyes
If I baked him a strawberry pie.
Or wrote out his name in the sky with smoke,
It doesn't hurt to hope.

II. Bill's so good but I sup-
Pose I should forget him but
(Knock on wood) I'll wait just a
Little Longer.
Look at me! I'm young and
So pretty--oh that my
Heart could be just a
Little stronger.

Ch.

III. My name's Pearl. I'm just a
Single girl, I live in a world of
Reality.
His name's Bill. I don't think he
Ever will love me but
Still I dance ev'ry
Evening.

Ch. Cause there's more than one pair of dark brown eyes,
And I love to eat strawberry pie.
I've finally learned what I've known all along:
Sometimes you just have to move on.

Rumplestiltskin for Bakers

I tried to be a good naturalist and looked up this moth in my "A Golden Guide to Insects." The closest I got were the "underwing moths," whose outerwings resemble those of the moth in the picture, but whose underwings are brightly colored--yellow, orange, etc. I didn't get a chance to see this guy's underwings, so can't be sure. However, the guide explains that you can collect these moths "in woods at night by painting tree trunks and stumps with a mixture of brown sugar and fermented fruit juice as bait." They are ubiquitous in the U.S. Does anyone else know what this moth may be?
Picture #2 is of a delicious pumpkin cake, recipe found in CakeLove by Warren Brown. April arranged the scenery--since my photographs are typically blurry or washed out, I commissioned her with the task, which she did indeed complete better and more thoughtfully than I would have :) The interior of the cake is a lovely golden-orange; i frosted it with a spiced cream cheese frosting (a little too heavy on the cream cheese, albeit delicious by itself. You don't want to overwhelm the cake with the frosting!) Tonight's cooking agenda includes a tomato, pesto, and corn pizza--recipe courtesy of my Aunt Allison, and Cocoa Brownies from the Fat Witch Bakery cookbook (made with Scharffen Berger cocoa! <3 )
Today's poem turned out to be a retelling(ish) of Rumplestiltskin. You'll see how it works. :) On a side note, there are many lovely books out there that retell fairy tales, including: The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale, Beauty and Spindle's End by Robin McKinley, Castle in the Air by Diana Wynne Jones (read Howl's Moving Castle first!), Ella Enchanted and Fairest by Gail Carson Levine. Can anyone recommend some others?

Bearded Ben the Baker had
A most imposing task:
To bake one thousand cupcakes for
The Queasy Queen of Basque.
Her stomach was so delicate,
A cracker could disrupt
Her gentle inner-workings and
Completely back her up.
(I think you comprehend my meaning,
Now we'll let her be.
Return your thoughts to Bearded Ben,
Whose head lies on his knee:)
"One thousand cupcakes! Woe is me!
And none of them the same!
They must "pack a punch" upon the tongue,
But meet the stomach tame!
Did any baker ever face
A challenge such as this?!"
Poor Ben, distraught, dissolved in tears,
Then heard a subtle "Psssst...!"
"Who's there?" asked Ben suspiciously,
Are you a friend or foe?"
"I may be both, or neither, kid.
Now wouldn't you like to know?
The point is, I have baking skills
Like you have never seen,
And I can fill this order for
Her Majesty the Queen.
Of course, this service don't come free...
What can you do for me?"
While Bearded Ben racked up his brain,
The master went to work--
The pans were in the oven, then
His voice sneered, with a smirk:
"You haven't thought up payment, have you?
Very well! I will:
Wash all my dishes silently, and
Change your name to Bill."
"What, Bill? But why? That's not my name!
What a senseless, pointless trade!"
"I don't go in for sense. Besides,
A point, indeed was made:
The point is, I have saved your life
And reputation, too.
If I prefer a 'Bill' to 'Ben',
Just what is that to you?"
So Bearded Bill the Baker brought
The cupcakes to the Queen.
She gave him a promotion when
They didn't turn her green.

Fred, Fred, Bo-Bread...

Well, as a cooking blog, I am putting forth a pretty pathetic showing. First the Uglycake, and now...one misshapen and one burnt loaf of bread. At least the misshapen loaf (see picture one) offered some amusement. It looked (before being demolished--yum!) like a giant pair of lips. The coconut-chocolate is the toasty one, but...other than the very bottom it actually tastes delicious! So the results were not Wholly disappointing. Here, as promised, is the basic bread recipe. I'm going to type it out as simply as possible, but if you have any questions, just ask!
Again, this is from Jim Lahey's book My Bread. You can buy it here!: http://www.amazon.com/My-Bread-Revolutionary-No-Work-No-Knead/dp/0393066304/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1286570108&sr=8-1

Ingredients:
3 c bread flour
1 1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp instant or other active dry yeast
1 1/3 c cool water

Instructions:
Mix together first three ingredients. Mix in water. The result should be a sticky dough--if it seems dry, add a tad more water. Place a tea towel over your bowl and "forget about it" for 12-18 hours. (Should be left in a warm, draft-free spot.)
After this time has passed, dump the dough (gently) onto a floured surface. Shape it into a rounded loaf. Cover again with the towel and let rise another 1-2 hours. When ready, preheat the oven to 475 degrees, and set your Dutch Oven inside so that it is pre-warmed when you add the dough. Once the oven is preheated, remove the Dutch Oven and carefully place the loaf inside. Bake, covered, for 30 minutes. Then, remove the lid and bake 15-30 minutes more. I usually stop at the 15 minute mark. Take out the Dutch Oven and carefully remove the loaf onto a surface like a cutting board (a spatula may be helpful here). Let your bread cool completely. The End!

*Notes: 1) This bread is Incredible dipped into an olive oil-balsamic vinager mixture. 2) The most enjoyable part comes when you take the bread out of the oven, because if you listen, you can hear the bread crackling or "singing" :) Happy Bread! 3) In my experience, this bread is definitely best eaten sooner rather than later...although after re-reading the instructions, I'm wondering if this is because I usually cut into it before it's had a chance to cool properly. Maybe this impatience results in a loaf that loses its crispness more quickly? :( But it's So Darn Good I Can't Wait! :) 4) Link to Lodge-brand Dutch Ovens here: http://www.lodgemfg.com/

Here's a silly poem about an autumn leaf coming to terms with its fleeting life span:

"I just don't think today's the day
For pulling pranks, or jests...
In fact, it seems a lovely day
For pondering and rest.
Oh dear, I must be getting old!
I'm docile and serene--
When just a few short months ago
I was wild, fresh, and green!
I'm wilting some-the green is fading,
Parts of me are red-
Which isn't bad, but I've heard tell
That, too, fades when we're dead!
Ah death: I'll drop down off this limb,
Float gently to the ground,
The breeze will be my pallbearer,
I'll land without a sound.
It's not a dreadful way to go,
If one must go at all--
Besides, you know, we dying leaves
Are the celebrities of fall!
Yes, I'll give in to slowing down,
Accept my creeping fate.
There's no escaping--I'm just Leaf,
All I can do is wait..."

Ode to an Absent Friend; A Meditation on Shadows

Once again, my picture loaded sideways. It's getting frustrating. Time for image-loading research. The top photo is of a scene drawn by my neighbor Ellie. The tree on the right is asking, "Why am I a tree?" While his friend replies, "You'll be it forever." The rabbit caught in the middle wonders, "What are they talking about?" It made me smile.
I have two potential loaves of bread rising in the oven, both from Jim Lahey's book My Bread--one, the basic No-Knead loaf, and the other is a slightly adapted version of the basic loaf with chocolate and unsweetened coconut added. If they turn out well tomorrow morning, I shall provide pictures and perhaps a re-worded version of his recipe. You should also consider buying his book, because it is fantastic! Very simple, and delicious to the point of ruining your palate for all other breads available. A mixed-blessing :) Snob.
Two poems today--one I composed in my head to a coworker I'm used to seeing more than zero times a week, and in the middle of having an exhaustion-breakdown. (NO MORE EGGS!!! OR SANDWICHES!!!) I think it could be a really wacky greeting card? The second was written during a much-needed Doubleshot cool-down session. Hadn't been there for almost a week! It was like being in a desert, craving water. Seriously.

Oh friend, I have not seen your face
In far-too-freakin long--
To prove how much I miss you,
I have written you a song...
At least, I meant to, but I fear
I quite ran out of time
(I'm secretly the C.I.A.
And have to stop a crime.)
The criminals are organized,
They're lead by Slim-Hipped Stu--
They're based in South Australia
Where they're killing kangaroos!
I simply Have to stop them, and
I hope you understand,
Why I wrote these garbled lines
And not the symphony I'd planned....


The shadow of a lemon contradicts
Our connotations of the fruit itself--
A 'drop of sunlight', tangy on the tongue,
The zest of summer captured in a glass:
Refreshing.
Shadows are anonymous. The shades
Of elephants may loom a little larger
Than the quiet lemon's, but their essence
(Absent sunlight)fades to gray beneath
The microscope.

(See? I am a chef, a scientist, a vagabond--
Who roams the land of sense, and well-beyond.)

SomnanbulistsAnonymous

Good evening! I would begin this post by commenting on the utterly horrific fact that you can purchase fried BUTTER at the fair (zits popping up just thinking about it, hateful buggers :( but...everyone knows that already. Went to the state fair last night, the highlight of which was seeing the little baby animals! piglets and goatlets born on my birthday! So sweet! The moth in photo B landed on my jacket while we were loitering by the hot tub exhibit. :) The top pic is Miss Izzy capitalizing on the fact that i finally got all my winter clothes/jackets out of storage...but haven't finished putting them away. In other news, I finished baking a type of cookies called Joe Froggers this afternoon, recipe from the Baked Explorations book. I looked up recipe copyright laws online and it looks like recipe ingredients are not copyrighted, but the explanatory text is (possibly...it's open to interpretation). I'm not brave enough to venture into those waters yet. But Joe Froggers are a molassesy cookie with dark rum. I had a bottle of Kraken rum leftover from the pirate floats, so it seemed like a great opportunity! They are delicious, but my favorite part is the name :) (If you'd like the recipe, let me know and I can pass it to you on the down-low. Or...if anyone would like to order these cookies or any other dessert, let me know and we can talk business. It's my Black Market Baking Co.--that is, I'd be happy to bake for you, but don't have a certified kitchen.)
Today's poem, Spunky's Sea Voyage, was written immediately before i took a much-needed 2 hour nap. That is all you need to know :)

"Spunky P. once crossed the sea
In just a single night!"
"He sleep-walked like a champion
And walked on water--right?"
"Why, yes!" "It was the front page news
Of ev'ry Times and Sun--
And still no one can quite believe
That such a thing was done."
"It's true, though! Spunky fell asleep
On Florida's finest beach,
And sunrise found the coast of England
Just within his reach."
"Eight hours, tops! That boy can travel
Faster than a plane!"
"I heard he was a bit upset
He didn't stop in Spain.
He woke up on a rock-strewn shore,
'Twas windy, cold, and damp--
He woke up with a runny nose
And wicked muscle cramps.
A local pub refused him porridge,
He looked such a fright,
So he just sat and shivered, groaning,
Waiting for the night.
He hoped he could reverse his course
And simply sleep-walk home.
Unfortunately, morning saw
Poor Spunky P in Rome."
"I'd bet my life that Spunky P
Will circumnavigate!
The Magellan of Somnambulists,
Yes sir! That boy's first-rate!"

Some Happy Things and a Blues Scene

And...Happy Birthday me! :) Twenty-four years old. Crazy! Looking forward to an evening at the State Fair (a co-worker recommended the deep fried oreos...but i shudder...we'll see) I think I just want to pet some horses and look at some pies, see what's up. :) And ride the tilt-a-whirl?!?!? A jerk at a shady Fort Worth amusement park made my Mums and aunt sick once on the tilt-a-whirl, but i was young and hearty...he wouldn't stop the ride even though they asked him to and we were the only ones on it. Grrr. But it's my favorite! <3 Picture numero uno is of my fireplace mantle. That's blue-haired Jane and her dog, Willy Wonka, delightful Urthel ale, and other "various and sundries." :)
Today's poem is just a typical "blues scene" (at least, that's what it reminds me of, i could be wrong, i wasn't there...). It's familiar, so perhaps not terribly creative, but i enjoyed being reminded of that sort of era.

Red umbrellas brightening a dreary, dripping gray--
Laughter from a window, lit to keep the blues at bay--
Blushing pink chiffon and silk, the "chink" of crystal glass--
A lone man on the balcony, in smoke, and flicking ash.

Delicacy, giddyness, the bubbly kind of bliss
(The kind that leads to madness or an uncommitted kiss).
Where are the hidden saxophones--the soul, the grit, the heat?
They're fused to muddied alleyways, and married to the street.

The Scariest Toy in the World...

Made it back from Wichita safely! Highlights of the trip include: listening to my sister play a Brahms french horn concerto, eating the most De-li-cious Chocolate cake with coffee buttercream cake that my Dad made, goofing around with my dad's microphone, watching my sister "cure" a raccoon hide in the dark with a chorus of cackling coyotes in the background, learning how to build a fire and enjoying said fire, sunday morning latte, getting to visit with lots of family at the birthday party mums and jim threw for me (thank you!) and eating all the yummy snacks they baked. it was a coffee-themed birthday party, so there was lots more coffee. :) just being with family, friends, and relaxing. Wonderful time all around!! My dad bought that horrifying finger puppet somewhere...Seattle, i think. i decided more people need to know that sort of thing exists. :)
today's poem is another food-based-fight poem. so i'm becoming suspicious that i have food-based issues. As in, harboring secret guilt for a form of coffee snobbery that manifests itself in literally sneering at people who order frappuccinos. (they're just Wrong!!) Anyway, like Glen and Henrietta, today's friends will experience a rift because of differing tastes in food. This time, one has baked the other a cake, which he just cannot choke down. (p.s. if anyone knows how to keep photos from loading sideways, i'd appreciate a sharing of this knowledge!) Here 'tis:

"It's more like eating dirt than some
Delectable, I fear.
I'd guess it's 'cause you haven't washed
Your mixing bowls this year."
"But dirt's the very spice of life!
To me, it's...apple pie.
And what's the point of having all
Your dishes reek of lye?"
"All right, dear friend--now do calm down,
You have the strangest tastes,
But I won't let this lovely chocolate
Cake go all to waste!"
"What, chocolate?! Gross! For love of earth,
This here's Mud-Spangled Cake!
A family recipe as old
As the great Pacific lake!
The best darn cake you'll Ever eat,
You pompous, sweet-toothed snob!"
"Ha, ha. That statement 'takes the cake'
You grimy, spineless slob!"
Another fight incensed by food,
Another friendship lost...
This time, between Elvira Worm
And Kirk the Albatross.

Putting off till later...the Packing I ought to do now

It's vacation day! Leaving for Wichita around 3:30--my first time ever to make the drive (as driver) without parental supervision! I know, it's overdue...but i have a thing about highways. It's time. It'll be good. Friends are going with me and we'll sing happy songs if I start to freak :) Like "Heigh-Ho!", "The Bare Necessities," and "I'm as Corny as Kansas in August." Get ready!
One poem, and One song are on today's agenda. The song'll be a little off, since it won't be sung...but the lyrics amuse me some. It's called "Oracle"...and is a dialogue between a young woman and possibly the world's most unhelpful oracle. It has a lullabye tone, slow tempo. The poem is some lines written late last night, lying in bed, and early this morning, over a toasted bagel (with cream cheese and spinach), orange juice, and lovely Sidamo coffee roasted at Doubleshot. It's reads fairly fragmented, but...it says what I felt. This'll probably be it till Monday, so I hope you all have a great weekend!

Oracle

Verse 1:
"Green, yellow, red, blue
Will my dreams come true?"
"Blue, red, yellow, green--
What dreams do you mean?"
I saw someone tall and dark,
Sleeping in a golden park--
Will my love be rich and handsome?"
"I can give no answer."

V2:
"Two, four, six, eight,
Please, what will be my fate?"
"Eight, six, four, two--
If I tell what will you do?"
"If it's happy, full of light,
I will kiss my love tonight.
If it's tragic, I'll just die!"
"I should warn you--I might lie."

V3:
"Apples, peaches, cherries, pears,
Who, what, when, and why and where?"
"Pears, cherries, apple pie--
Gaze into my glass eye.
Pains you think you'll never bear
Will be born, so don't despair.
Joys you fear you'll never know--
Maybe yes, and maybe no.
Do not worry, do not fret,
Much will be that isn't yet."

Lines Written Over Breakfast :)

A timorous "yes" sits in my mind
While "no" invades my heart.
Conflicting wants, competing needs,
Fear tearing me apart...

There's some men who meet their Maker,
Others know their mind--
I'm losing both, working to please
Both mortal and divine.

Yet crippled men run straight, to God,
The dying glow with grace--
And I reflect the glory of
The One I cannot face.

If all that I desired were
What He desired, too,
I would not try to hide away
From what I'm meant to do.