I wonder what
they thought
before the doctors
began to diagnose
autism? Were there
just a bunch of
anti-social,
rainman-type,
idiot savants who no
one knew were
really just simply
autistic, blocked
from so-called
“normal” forms of
communication?
How many child
prodigies were over-
looked, genius
unfulfilled?
Then South
Park resumes, and I
let the idiots
entertain my numbed-by-society
brain.
Filed under Poetry
It’s foggy tonight.
sometimes i think
it’s the coming rain,
or sorrow,
or pain,
or simply my brain,
the years of smoking too much
or drowning my fear
in gallons of beer,
tumblers of whisky
on the rocks.
other times i think
it’s just my life,
the listless minds surrounding
me, my craving need
for something
anything
more than this
inconsequential existence.
or perhaps it’s only
the full moon rising,
the pink-blue sunset,
the bitter wind, as i walk down
the street, away from
you and you and you.
And I give the world the proverbial finger.
Filed under Poetry
Excerpt:
This is what everyone would remember about his mother: her home was immaculate. Even in a place where cleanliness was pursued with religious zeal, Klara’s household was renowned for its faultless order. In Klara’s mind, there was no gradation between purity and filth.
She had sinned as a girl, made pregnant by her married uncle. Adultery stained her soul black, and God punished her as she deserved. Her sin-child died.
So did her aunt, and Klara became her uncle’s second wife, dutifully raising her stepchildren, keeping them very clean and very quiet, so her uncle-husband would not become angry and bring out his leather whip. Her husband was no more merciful than her God. Her second son died, and then her small daughter.
Soon after she buried little Ida, Klara became pregnant again. Her fourth child was a sickly boy whose weakness her uncle-husband despised. Klara was ashamed that her children had died. She hovered over the new baby anxiously, told him constantly that she loved and needed him, hoping that her neighbors would notice how well he was cared for. Hoping that her uncle-husband would come to approve of her son. Hoping that God would hear her pleas, and let this child live.
Her prayers, it seemed, were answered, but the neighbors were bemused by Klara’s mothering. She nursed her little boy for two years. He’d squirm away, or turn his face from her, but she pushed her nipple into his mouth regardless of what troubled him. She fed and fed and fed that child. Food was medicine. Food could ward off numberless, nameless, lurking diseases. “Eat,” she’d plead. “Eat, or you’ll get sick and die.” It was immoderate, even in a village where mothers expected children to swallow whatever was put before them, and to clean their plates.
In adulthood, Klara’s son would have nightmares about suffocation. He would suck on a finger in times of stress, or stuff himself with chocolates. He was obsessed with his body’s odors and became a vegetarian, convinced this diet reduced his propensity to sweat excessively and improved the aroma of his intestinal gas. He discussed nutritional theories at length, but had a poor appetite. He could not watch others eat without trying to spoil their enjoyment. He’d call broth “corpse tea,” and pointed out that a roast suckling pig looked “just like a cooked baby.”
Whenever he looked in a mirror, he would see his mother’s eyes: china blue and frightened. Frightened of dirt, of her husband, of illness, and of God. Her son, too, was frightened. Frightened of priests and hunters, of cigarette smokers and skiers, of liberals, journalists, germs and dirt, of gypsies, judges, and Americans. He was frightened of being wrong, of being weak, of being effeminate. Frightened of poets and of Poles, of academics and Jehovah’s Witnesses. Frightened of moonlight and horses, of snow and water and the dark. Frightened of microbes and spirochetes, of feces, and of old men, and of the French.
The very blood in his veins was a danger to him. There were birth defects and feeble-mindedness in his incestuous family. His uncle-father was a bastard, and Klara’s son worried all his life that unsavory gossip about his ancestry would become public. He was frightened of sexual intercourse and never had children, afraid his tainted blood would be revealed in them. He was terrified of cancer, which took his mother’s life, and horrified that he had suckled at diseased breasts.
How could anyone live with so much fear?
His solution was to simplify. He sought and seized one all-encompassing explanation for the existence of sin and disease, for all his failures and disappointments. There was no weakness in his parents, his blood, his mind. He was faultless; others were filth. He could not change his china blue eyes, but he could change the world they saw. He would identify the secret source of every evil, and root it out, annihilating at a stroke all that threatened him. He would free Europe of pollution and defilement–only health and confidence and purity and order would remain!
Are such grim and comic facts significant, or merely interesting? Here’s another: the doctor who could not cure Klara Hitler’s cancer was Jewish.
“No matter how dark the tapestry God weaves for us, there’s always a thread of grace.”
Published in 2005, this novel is a fictional account of WWII and specifically, the war that raged in the Italian countryside. Ironically, the first chapter is the only one that mentions Hitler himself, concentrating mostly on the Italian peasant revolt against the fascists. Mostly what you see is a portrait of the people: some hiding, some local, some Germans.
It’s poignant. It’s heart-wrenching. It actually made me cry.
Even the Germans.
Through this distinct illustration of the humanity, not only of the victims of the Holocaust, but of the Germans serving the Nazis, you begin to see just how this atrocity could happen. People are merely people, following orders, not questioning the validity of their leader’s arguments.
In a nutshell, this book is an amazing portrait of survival, in a time when not many survived.
I read Ms. Russell’s The Sparrow many years ago, and was excited to read this novel.
They are completely different, but her style of writing is eerily similar.
I would highly recommend this book to anyone. It’s not necessarily depressing, for there are moments of joy and retribution.
Filed under Book review
At Casa Christel, we love burritos of almost any kind. So tonight I’m sharing our dinner…
Ingredients:
1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken thighs, diced
4 flour tortillas, burrito size
1/2 c. diced red onion
1 small can green chiles
Rice-A-Roni chicken flavor
1/2 env. taco seasoning
1 can black beans
1 small tomato, chopped
2 green onions,chopped
Now that the ingredients are out of the way…saute your chicken with a little oil or butter for a few minutes.
Add the red onion.
Throw the rice in there, and let it brown. Mostly you just follow the directions on the package, adding your own stuff.
Add the water & spice packet from the box of rice, and the taco seasoning.
Add the green chiles & black beans.
Cover & cook on med-low for 17 minutes.
Go smoke, have a beer, whatever…
It smells pretty good in your house now…
Grate up some cheese if you want…
When the chicken/rice stuff is done, squirt lime juice on it. Yum…
Viola! Burritos!
Garnish with the tomato & green onion.
Add some salsa & sour cream.
I’ve got salsa from The Original Taco House, and Daisy sour cream.
I like Daisy. There’s always random saying on the label inside.
Anyway…enjoy. Now I’m starving and have to go eat! 🙂
Filed under recipes
All Joss wants is to be left alone—with Dylan. But as more Talents are imprisoned by the government, everyone’s looking for a leader. Some look to Joss, some to Marco whose new criminal plan threatens Joss’s family and friends. Joss wants to stand up to Marco, but Dylan’s protective instincts are putting him in harm’s way. Can Joss find a way to embrace both the boy and her hero within?
This review is long overdue.
I’ve been a die-hard fan of Susan Bischoff for years, and this second book was a long time coming, yet definitely worth the wait. It took Susan almost a year to release this novel, after the initial release of Hush Money, the first book in the Talent Chronicle series. Of course, this book was much longer, and obviously a beast of burden for the author. Like me, she’s a perfectionist, at least when it comes to writing. As writers, we are wont to published anything that feels unpolished or unfinished. We stew. We edit. We critique ourselves constantly. But is it worth the wait? Most definitely! Luckily, there was a short story included in an anthology, which expanded on the Talent Chronicle characters, and kept my impatience slightly abated.
Miraculously, she finally published this book, and I read it immediately, with promises of a prompt review.
Um yeah.
Forgive me, Susan. Life has been chaotic, as I’m sure you can understand.
Anyway, enough with my waxing on and on…
Go check out the book! Besides the minor blurb up at the top, Susan has a preview posted on her website. <—–click me 🙂
You can also view all the other various perks she’s incorporated. Trust me. You will love this. Susan’s created a whole new world for her characters, and is working on the third book as well!
I love YA books! Okay, so I’m in my mid-thirties, but whatever?!
The thing I love the most, that Ig et from numerous YA authors, is the strong female protagonists. Susan delivers Joss to her readers with a punch. I adore her. She’s a tom-boy. She’s outspoken (sometimes), and isn’t afraid to stand up for her friends and her beliefs. To me, this is admirable, especially in the Twilight-era of moody, wimpy chicks in YA literature. (Bella: Joss could kick your butt!) Joss is a great role model for teenage girls, as she’s a bit of a recluse, but through the first novel (Hush Money), she grows as a person, and by the time we see her again in this novel, she’s strong-willed, take-no-prisoners kind of gal. And I love it!
Joss’ relationship with Dylan (her kinda boyfriend) is truly brought to life in this book, and who doesn’t find the bad boy turned good thing a bit sexy?
I also greatly enjoyed the levels that Susan added to Joss’ family dynamic in the second book. (No spoilers!) For me, it helped me to understand a bit more of Joss’ background, and sympathize with her father’s plight in a way I’d never have guessed. Way to shock me, Susan!
So if you like YA, and even if you’ve never tried it, go check out this lovely second installment in the Talent Chronicles! Strong females, government conspiracies, super powers! What more could a girl ask for?
Filed under Book review
Ingredients:
2 chicken leg quarters
1 c. dried white beans
1 medium onion
2 cloves garlic
1/2 c. cilantro
1 small can green chiles
1 can corn
2 tea. hot sauce
So, I had these dried beans, frozen chicken, and a huge bunch of cilantro to use.
Plus, my avocado had ripened.
Hence, I “invented” this recipe.
Not really.
I simply adapted to the ingredients I had on hand.
Anywho…take your thawed chicken, throw it in the crock pot, and season it up with salt, pepper, cumin & oregano.
Dump in about a cup of water. Turn on high and walk away.
Smoke break, blog reading, job hunting, whatever…
Meanwhile, take the beans you soaked last night…oh wait…forgot to mention that. Yeah, I’m cheap, so I use dried beans. Anyway, soak ’em & then boil them over medium for about an hour and a half. White beans cook faster.
Chop up your garlic & onion, dumping them all over the chicken in the crock pot.
Smoke again…or make some muffins. That’s what I did. 🙂
When your chicken’s done-ish, yank it out, and let it cool off before you get all the good parts off the bone and throw it back in.
Then add your beans. They should be done by now…
Add the green chiles, hot sauce and cilantro.
Turn your crock pot down to LOW, and go make the most of the next few hours…stirring occasionally.
When you’re ready to eat, slice up an avocado, chop more cilantro, and grate some cheese.
People can garnish however they want.
Yum.
Plus, there’s usually some left to freeze.
Enjoy! 🙂
Filed under Blogs 2011
I just wanted to pop in and say “HELLO PUMPKINS!”.
I was published today in the October issue of Forever Nocturne! Go me!
Anywhosit…I also wrote a post over on my other blog today, so you can check that out here.
Blessed Samhain, everyone! 🙂
Filed under Blogs 2011
NOM!
“Real men don’t eat Quiche”, says the BF. I call bullshit.
This recipe was originally from my Mom, and is titled “Crustless Spinach Quiche”.
I’ve since adapted it, and it’s a great way to use up produce or those couple of sausages in your fridge.
Honestly, you can simply use WTF ever you’ve got on hand?!
This time, I used the two leftover brats from my stew a few days ago, and a red pepper that was about to go.
You can make it small or larger, if you want leftovers. For the busy mornings, it’s great on an English muffin, wrapped up and taken to work. Your co-workers will think you stopped at McDonald’s, but this beats their breakfast sandwiches hands-down. Plus, it’s much healthier, as you control the ingredients and amount of sodium.
Here’s you basic ingredients:
5 eggs
1/4 c. milk
2 c. shredded cheese
and WHATEVER YOU WANT?!
Whip up the eggs and milk like you’re making scrambled eggs.
Add the cheese.
For example, this morning, I sautéed up the brats (sliced up), a bit of onion, the remaining red pepper, and sliced mushrooms until soft and brown.
I also chopped up some green onions and cilantro and added that to the egg mixture.
After the sautéed stuff cooled, I threw it in with the egg stuff.
Then dump it all in a greased pan. I used an 8×8 pan, but you could use whatever.
Bake it on 335 degrees for about 25 minutes. Poke it in the center with a toothpick to check done-ness.
And viola! Breakfast Quiche!
I’m pairing it with 2 slices of bacon, and a mini bagel topped with cream cheese.
Yum!
Filed under Blogs 2011
Cover Art by Robin Ludwig
Every fairy tale has a dark side…
Elodie Rose has a secret. Any day, she’ll become a wolf and succumb to the violence that’s cursed her family for centuries. For seventeen years she’s hidden who and what she is. But now someone knows the truth and is determined to exterminate her family line. Living on borrowed time in the midst of this dangerous game of hide and seek, the last thing Elodie needs to do is fall in love. But Sawyer is determined to protect her, and the brooding, angry boy is more than what he seems. Can they outsmart a madman? And if they survive, will they find a way to beat the curse for good?
******************************************************************************************************************************************
This is the fourth work of Kait’s that I’ve read (no pun intended), and once again, Kait never ceases to amaze, excite, and suck me into the plot immediately. I positively adore the way she takes a classic fairy tale as a rudimentary base for this plot. With all the remade movies (The Green Lantern, Tron, etc.) and TV shows (Hawaii Five-O, Charlie’s Angels, etc.) based loosely on media that was popular in the seventies and eighties, I often wonder why corporate media can’t simply release something ORIGINAL?!? I mean come on?! There are thousands of indie authors out there, writing fabulous stories in the YA and paranormal genres (what’s HOT right now), that could easily be turned into feature films or TV shows! What?! Do they have no creativity left? Are they afraid to try new things? Are they simply so stupid that they don’t think society as a whole has any ingenuity or brain cells left? Between Kait Nolan, Susan Bischoff, Stacey Wallace Benefiel, and Zoe Winters, your paranormal/YA schtick is good-to-go for years! (Alternate post title: Fuck Stephanie Meyers.)
Likewise, Red is the first YA work she’s published, yet it still has all the strength of her paranormal romances, with a dark, teenage twist.
In this era of Twilight, with its emo-heroines, who in my opinion, are NOT good role-models for teenage women, Red provides a strong teenage female lead character, who refuses to take any shit from anyone. She’s an outcast, but she’s okay with that status, at least in the beginning. I loved watching the transformation of Elodie from a somewhat pacifist state into a total badass, take-no-prisoners kind of gal.
I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants a quick, quirky yet serious read. Kait envelopes a great twist to an old classic, in such an awesome feminist way!
Kait Nolan is stuck in an office all day, sometimes juggling all of her jobs at once with the skill of a trained bear—sometimes with a similar temperament. After hours, she uses her powers for good, creating escapist fiction. The work of this Mississippi native is packed with action, romance, and the kinds of imaginative paranormal creatures you’d want to sweep you off your feet…or eat your boss. When she’s not working or writing, she’s in her kitchen, heading up a revolution to Retake Homemade from her cooking blog, Pots and Plots.
Check out Kait Nolan’s website here.
Filed under Book review
tired
of misery
of anger
of lying
to you
to myself
tired
of walking
on eggshells
of trying
to be something
you perceive
tired
of dreaming
of the real me
my dreams
my love
my sanity
tired
of treading water
reaching out with
soothing caresses dragging
me down
into oblivion sweet
majestic
lovely
haunting
and so I sink
sleep
dream
of escape
Filed under Poetry
Random Musings 