On Tuesday We Make Pie

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This week we made a Lemon Meringue Pie! We followed a different crust recipe than last week and this one used shortening rather than butter. To be honest, it was a little bit disappointing as it was more difficult to work with when it came time to roll it out. Still, we were quite pleased with the over all result. The meringue turned out perfectly, so light and sweet and fluffy! The lemon filling gelled well. The secret? Cornstarch. I think we used every single mixing bowl in the kitchen to make this pie and despite our best efforts there are still lemons waiting to be used up.

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New Rule: Tuesday is Pie Day

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In celebration of the summer, my best friend and I have taken it upon ourselves to bake a different kind of delicious pie creation each Tuesday. Allow me to introduce our first creation. This week’s pie is a classic berry. Loaded with fresh strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries, it is a herald to the sweet flavors of summer. We made the crust from a bon appetite crust recipe and improvised the filling. The slash style vents were another idea borrowed from the magazine, but it reminded us, nerds, of wolverine’s signature. Unfortunately it didn’t last very long, as it was delicious. Here’s to a happy summer and many more pies.


A Sonnet

Creator God, triune, and abundant;

Full of wrath, Full of grace, Loving-kindness,

All wisdom, infinite, hear a supplicant,

A worm, a dust mote given mindfulness,

Lifting, offering, thanksgiving and pleas,

A practice of willing well, like you,

When covered in grime, you prayed on your knees,

Facing uncertainty, something new,

What did you say then? How did you express

Something so deeply disturbing and find

Peace, to have your garment cleaned and pressed

Into heavenly robes? Teach me in kind,

Or dwell with me, for then I could, with you,

Accomplish things much sweeter and more true.


Being?

Life could be a string of anticipations, 

Hopes drawn out and hearts broken then mended, 

The flinch of forgotten hesitations, 

A quality of judgement suspended,

It could be. 

And here we all are in this shaken snow globe,

Laughing and crying at the frenzied flakes,

That pierce our hearts, pierce our temporal lobe, 

Because that is what they say that it takes,

It could be. 

Possibility is infinite, see? 

There is little choice involved here at all,

Except the choice to feel, feel things deeply, 

Or let them skate by, lean against the wall. 

You should be

Living out the delight of a sundae

On Sunday, in the afternoon sun beams,

With anticipations of a light new someday

And the fulfillment of wildest dreams, 

You could be.  

Or the yet pumping heart might balk and wilt,

That is okay too, sadness flows o’er you

As the judge pronounces your grimy guilt,

Closest of friends with the goat and sweet ewe,

You could be. 

Action, reaction and Newtonian 

Chemistry, governance of life’s mystery, 

The futile efforts of man’s quest jovian, 

All of it written into false history, 

I could be.

Rambling, rambling, and wandering,

Falling and Folly, cest humanity,

Until the only One with sure footing

Reached into the river, Christianity,

How to be.  


The Great Picnic On The Green

A sweetly warm summer’s eve set the scene

For our and Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream;

A grand picnic on a gently sloped green

Where friends, held dear, watched the fairies scheme;

I think we all fell in love late last night,

Seeing in each other fractals of light 

And traits valued in our Creator’s sight

We couldn’t help but feel the world was all right;

Such sweet repose and joy did strike us there, 

Like fat, warm raindrop jewels in our hair, 

That time itself seemed suspended and rare, 

Truly there never was an eve so fair; 

For when with Nature, Man shares membership,

Each Soul feels a deep Christian fellowship. 


Cheerful Mood

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Pancakes and German Music for breakfast

Lighten the heart and fill the belly up

With happiness and silly thoughts at last, 

Indeed, I am entirely cheered up;

The prospect of today’s gift of hours 

No longer resembles an elephant

But rather a summer day of bright airs

And possibilities benevolent,

Not that elephants are really all bad,

I like elephants, jazz, and sipping milk, 

Dancing, color, and airplanes make me glad,

Today cares slip away like off of silk,

Yet motivation remains and thrives here, 

Propelled by great Love instead of damp fear.


Blue

Feeling blue, feeling blue

Coping seems to be all I can do

When I am feeling blue,

How the imagery strikes me now,

Like an arrow flying true,

There is more than sadness hid in the color blue,

With the myriad of shades,

It is surprising that the associated

Emotional range is so limited.

Consider, first, the sky

All azure and pale and vast

How can I forget, so fast, that the sky is blue,

And forget the emotion of cheerfulness

That it inspires in my chest.

Is that not a feeling blue, too?

Consider, second, the sea

With her change continuous and

Quickly changing coloring,

Those blue depths, that turquoise gleam,

How can I forget the nurturing, life inspiring

Breath that cradles my very Soul?

How can I forget that in my ‘feeling blue’?

Or incline your ear and listen to

The ‘bluesy’ crooner croon

A wonderful, ironic tune

About a circumstance put into perspective.

It is blue, but somehow smiling too.

Feeling blue, feeling blue,

Don’t forget to feel all that is true

About the manifold hue.