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..."