Princess Gloom and Doom Makes a List

  After a horrible week of uneasiness and general unhappiness, I vowed to make a list of random things I am thankful for.  So here goes....

• That I sleep like the dead
• For the people who accept my brand of quirkiness
• That my eleven (yes I said eleven) tomato plants are growing
• For my twenty year old fan that still lulls me to sleep every night
• That I have a table with umbrella in my tiny back yard
• For the farmer's market
• For my garden
• For interesting and hilarious friends
• That my dad has a sailboat
• That crying really does bring relief
• That I have everything I need
• That I still find people intriguing
• That everything is so green and lush right now
• For Bloody Marys in the evening
• For my new knife
• For silliness
• For coffee
• For fireflies that land in my hair
• That my dog and cat sleep on the bed
• For still being able to be surprised
• For music
• That I still have patience
• For poetry
• For Pie, For Pie, For Pie
• That writing always helps
• That I still like to question and ponder
• That I am not numb to the world
• For lemonade, sweet tea, orange, vodka and gin
• For basil and pesto
• For photography
• For Sunday 
• For my kitchen
• For Ms Martha Stewart's Pie and Tart Cookbook
• That there are flowers growing in my yard

 
   It's a self indulgent exercise.  But it did seem to help put my unhappiness into perspective.  There is a lot of greatness in my life, actually. I hope there is in yours too.

Poetry on Monday

Mad Girl's Love Song

By Sylvia Plath

 

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

A Little Bit of ComFest Love!!

   Once a year in Columbus, a community festival occurs which is the mother of all other festivals.  It is called ComFest. It takes place over a weekend. It is held in Goodale Park in the Victorian Village area of Columbus.  It is a free event. There are several stages on which local performers do their thing...whatever that may be. There is food. There is beer. There is more beer.  There are tons of people. There are tons of people who have enjoyed a whole lotta beer.  It's really to bad I don't like beer.
   ComFest is known to be a "hippie" festival. I say this loosely because actually people of all different persuasions find themselves at home at ComFest.  I am okay with the hippie thing anyway.  My parents were hippie want-a-bes back in the day.  My mother shopped at a coop. We had an ginormous garden. We made our own yogurt.  My mom bought the kind of peanut butter that separates between each use.  I hated that peanut butter as a kid, just sayin.  I also grew up a stone's throw from Yellow Springs, Oh, (the home for hippies).  And my father and stepmother currently live in this lovely little town.  So, it's all good.
   The most awesome thing about ComFest (beside the local color) is all of the local musicians/ bands that play.  The worst thing is parking.  We ended up parking way way way far away.  And I kinda forgot about the walking and wore my lovely raspberry Converse.  Converse are super comfy unless you sometimes have a little heel issue that becomes exacerbated by walking more than around the block.  Oops, I was in a tiny bit of pain in the morning.  But since I don't drink beer and I did not have the forethought to take a flask, I was not in that kind of pain.
   Back to the entertainment... For the second year in a row, a few friends and I have gone down on Friday evening to see my friend and coworker perform with his collaboration, Speakeasy.  This deal was a combination of three different bands this year: Advanced Placement, Generic Product, and Math of Trees (the lineup changes from year to year).  Although they would be considered hip hop, they have  broad appeal and are always a good time.  I am not really a hip hop gal but I do enjoy these tight ComFest performances.
  There was the Sex Kitten Purr-Lesque that followed directly after Speakeasy.  And one of the friends I was with happened to be a heterosexual man so enough said.  Not that the burlesque is the only place to see naked breasts at ComFest, believe me. After the burlesque, we watched MojoFlo who have a soul, R and B kind of vibe.  They have lots of energy and a great sound. Then we finished off the evening with Phantods.  They are an alternative band.  I have seen them before and like them very much.
   I am always amazed that ComFest remains free and open to everyone.  I am amazed that much of the work is done by volunteers.  I love that ComFest continues to celebrate all different types of everything.  I love the fact that right inside the park entrance there was a tree made entirely from plastic grocery sacks.  It truly is a good time that can be had by all.  That is if you can find a parking space!

And The Second Album Dropped...

   This is a story about how I live.  It begins several years ago.  I was reading an article in a music magazine, probably Spin, but I don't actually remember.  The article was comprised of an interview with a semi famous person, I don't remember who.  The question had something to do with a favorite album.  The answer was "For Emma, Forever Ago" by Bon Iver.  I had never heard of Bon Iver at the time but I decided to check the out.  Then I promptly forgot out it for a few months.  But one day I was in the library perusing the Cd's and stumbled upon "For Emma...".
   I few days ago I would have said that in all my years of listening to music, there has never been an entire album that has had such an affect on me.  I won't go into all of the gory sentimental details.   "For Emma.." is spare, painful and beautiful.  The album is so amazing that by the last track, Re:Stacks - when Justin Vernon sings This is not the sound of a new man /or a crispy realization / It's the sound of the unlocking and lift away / Your love will be safe with me, I am usually wiping away a few tears.  

   And then on Tuesday something amazing happened. Bon Iver's self titled sophomore album dropped.  "For Emma..." will always be "For Emma..." but "Bon Iver" is transcendent.  In "Holocene" Vernon sings, All at once I knew I was not magnificent. Oh, I understand the meaning of this, but I will argue that Justin Vernon is indeed magnificent in that he is the brain child of  Bon Iver.  And "Bon Iver" the album is truly magnificent.  It is impressionistic. It is lush. It is broader. It is happier. It is visionary.

   My story continues though.  Of course, I downloaded the album immediately, although I had heard it before the official release date.  And in a moment of complete abandon, I purchased two tickets for a show 200 miles away.  This may sound pretty basic but it is unheard of for me.  For one, I am a die hard procrastinator when it comes to purchasing concert tickets - usually waiting long enough that they sell out.  I also purchased two tickets without knowing who will go with me.  That, my friends, is crazy.  I am a hard-core planner.  The idea of purchasing tickets, kinda on a whim is extraordinary. But I did it because if I miss the chance to see Bon Iver this time, I may never forgive myself.

   The life lesson here, is to surprise yourself, to allow yourself to be someone unexpected, to explore and to transcend.  And that means, my friends, take a little listen to Bon Iver.  Even if you think it may not be your cup of tea.  Try it, I dare you. This band might just change your world. 

Poetry Sunday

The Summer Day

By Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Pizza, Pizza, Pizza, PIE!!

    Not very many people prepare a meal together and then eat the meal together.  And, I think that is a problem.  In an attempt to take Sunday Supper back to what it used to be in my childhood (or at least how I remember Sunday Supper in my minds' eye), I have created an almost weekly Sunday Supper Club to be held at my home, for now, where the participants can partake in the joy of cooking, the joy of eating, and just the joy of being together.  Now, I realize that sounds kinda crazy sentimental. But I believe in this world of disconnect in which we live, the importance of actually spending time with people face-to-face (no facebook, no skype, no google chat, no texting, no email) is vital.  And since we all have to eat, why not prepare the meal together (or at least eat together) in a home.  Dining out is lovely, don't get me wrong but it's not the same thing.
   At this particular Sunday Supper, I put my guests to work.  This was the second Supper Club.  And the theme was pizza.  Everyone loves pizza, right?  So, I asked that everyone bring a topping - could be traditional, could be experimental....
   In the photograph above - Amy and Rebecca work at the beginning of the pizza pie making.  We had so many fresh vegetables to choose from - that was just fantastic! 

    In this photograph, Amy demonstrates how to correctly apply the tasty toppings.  Yes, there really is a correct way.  It is a science.  It is an art.  Oh, I am being silly but this veggie delight pizza was just beautiful!

    This pizza was AMAZING.  Not only is it gorgeous, I mean look at how those mushrooms were artfully arranged, but it was sooo tasty!  This pie had smoked provolone, three types of mushrooms, garlic scapes and fresh mozzarella (added at the very end). It was delicious!!

    This pizza was a surprise.  The sauce, as it were, was a herb cream cheese spread.  On top of which, we put shrimp, caramelized sweet onion and red onion.  It was superb.  Such a lovely combination of flavors.  I thank Rebecca for having the foresight to bring shrimp!
   There was a fourth pizza.  But apparently I do not have a visual record of it.  It was a pizza with a little bit of everything on it: pepperoni, mozzarella, Parmesan, green and black olives, red and green bell peppers, hot peppers, and mushrooms.  Need I say more. 

   The first three hot out of the oven!  From the front: Veggie Delight, Mushroom and Garlic, Shrimp and Onion.  How beautiful!
   Below: Jeff has the most important job - cutting the pizzas.  Well, maybe not the most important job, but he did a great job!
   We all had a great time, including the two year old (who has the broadest taste in food I have ever come across).  Definitely credited to Rebecca and Stephen for introducing her to all sorts of food.
   There were other delights to be had that are not pictured here: A raspberry lemonade with vodka, lemon liquor, and fresh raspberries, a green salad with tomato and smoked provolone, bake sale chocolate chip cookie bars and sugar cookies!
   Everybody eats. Everybody should eat well (most of the time). I hope you all have the chance to sit down and enjoy a meal with friends or family or both.  And if you happen to live near me, come and join us for Sunday Supper Club!
    This week, we are touring the Middle East!  Think hummus, think falafel, think kebabs.  Think yumminess!

Poetry on Wednesday

At Burt Lake
by Tom Andrews
To disappear into the right words and to be their meanings. . . October dusk. Pink scraps of clouds, a plum-colored sky. The sycamore tree spills a few leaves. The cold focuses like a lens. . . Now night falls, its hair caught in the lake's eye. Such clarity of things. Already I've said too much. . . Lord, language must happen to you the way this black pane of water, chipped and blistered with stars, happens to me.