Almostgotit.com

Today is Clement C. Moore’s birthday.  The “Night before Christmas” guy? And you were just wondering what a “sugarplum” was.  

Come on, I know you were.

And I was eventually going to tell you about the website, Godecookery.com anyway.  I ordered medieval cookies from them for a big university party once, and they were a terrific hit.  It also so happens that the Gode Folkes at GodeCookery have a late 16th-century recipe for sugarplums, which actually calls for actual plums. 

Clement C. Moore, writing about sugarplums in the early 19th century, most likely just meant sugar candy, which is how Wikipedia defines sugarplums, too.  But sugarplums made out of plums sound a lot more fun, and –Ta Da! — July is the season for plums. 

Here’s a yummy-looking recipe for sugarplums, using dried fruit, that would be nice for actual, December-style Christmas.  As would, yum, this Sugar Plum Pudding Cake. 

For Christmas in July, though, you can use this season’s fresh plums in a salad, or in main dish even, with one of these fresh plum recipes.  I might call you a Christmas- In- July- Spoil- Sport if you do, though.   Sugary plum-ness is part of the deal, here, so bake me a wonderfully-Southern Fresh Plum Cobbler with Oatmeal Dumplings, or Plum Cobbler with Cinnamon Biscuits, and I’ll love you so much I’ll want to marry you.

The Almostgotits are still communing with Nature, so we thought we’d invite a much more articulate person to guest blog today. Allow me to introduce you to Isaac Bashevis Singer, a very dear man and very prolific writer in both English and Yiddish. It’s his birthday today, and these are his words:

A story to me means a plot where there is some surprise. Because that is how life is - full of surprises.

Doubt is part of all religion. All the religious thinkers were doubters.

For those who are willing to make an effort, great miracles and wonderful treasures are in store.

If Moses had been paid newspaper rates for the Ten Commandments, he might have written the Two Thousand Commandments.

Sometimes love is stronger than a man’s convictions.

The analysis of character is the highest human entertainment.

The very essence of literature is the war between emotion and intellect, between life and death. When literature becomes too intellectual - when it begins to ignore the passions, the emotions - it becomes sterile, silly, and actually without substance.

The waste basket is the writer’s best friend.

We write not only for children but also for their parents. They, too, are serious children.

What nature delivers to us is never stale. Because what nature creates has eternity in it.

When I was a little boy, they called me a liar, but now that I am grown up, they call me a writer.

Image by Bob Janes, with permission

I’m still uploading my flood photos, but want to point out that even when we were being evacuated from our hotel and helping build sandbag levees and watching our plane tickets become useless as the only road to the airport was closed due to flooding, we kept on writing.  

Well, and drinking.  That was for the anxiety.

We talked about a lot of humor writing last week, and one title that came up was Nora Ephron’s I Feel Bad About My Neck. Kroger’s had the book on sale today, so I bought it. Here’s my favorite paragraph so far, from the essay “Serial Monogamy: A Memoir”:

Buddy Bob D. Janes (GreyHead on Flickr.com) gave me permission to share his fabulous author wingdings on my blog some time ago, but I’m only now getting around to it.

Due, no doubt, to the intensity of recent lectures to my eldest on the basis of our civilization’s monetary system.

Anyhoo. It’s a picture puzzle — see if you can guess the Thomas Hardy title suggested by this image!

I’ve been tagged by Ann of Compensation Force  with a new blogging meme.

Les Rules:

1. Provide a list of the books you’re currently reading. 
2. Pick up the nearest book, and open it to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence, and post the next three sentences.
4. Tag 3-5 more people by posting comments on their blogs. 
5. Link back to the person who tagged you. (It’s nice to leave them a comment, too!)

Les Books:

1. One Thousand White Women by Jim Fergus.
   “What if” fiction based on a true event, when a prominent Cheyenne chief asked the U.S. government for the gift of one thousand white women in order to help his doomed people assimilate.
2. Why Mars & Venus Collide by John Gray
   Which recently flew across the room, causing John Gray’s Martian head to collide with the wall.  And hey, here’s a bit of John Gray intrigue…
3. Sahara Special by Esmé Raji Codell.   
   My daughter and I just finished reading this one in our Mother-Daughter Book Club  (Esmé is a certified Readiologist.  Really.  Here is her very cute website. And here’s the quote, p. 123:

I could have cried from feeling scared, and I could have cried for being so terrible, for nearly making the meanest, most special boy in school explode.

But all I could think of was how it would be at least a week before I had a chance to snoop in his journal again.  And how Miss Pointy was right: poetry is not for punks.

Les Tags:

1. Rachel at Fog to Fire  (who uses the same wordpress theme I once did)
2. Florinda at  The 3 R’s (cause she’s cool)
3. Cyn at It’s All On the Table (cause she never reads MY blog, either)
4. Stephen at The Photoshop Journal   (won’t he be surprised)
5. Zita at the Savvy Networker (because I’m NETWORKING, of course)

You may already have read “Invisible Mother,” (text below). As best as I can tell it’s been circulating online since at least 2005, via email, message boards, and dozens and dozens of blogs — but it is always credited to a nameless author.

Because she’s invisible. Get it?

I do not like to post things without an artist’s permission, much less without attribution. That’s called “plagiarism,” and is a form of theft.

Nevertheless, the hundreds of postings by hundreds of women all happily conspiring with the invisible author to keep her that way is wonderfully ironic, quite aside from the funny loveliness of the piece itself.
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While I do not love every word written (or philosophy espoused) by Marianne Williamson, I do love these words: 

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

-Marianne Williamson

Ten honeymoons in ten days, hoo boy! I’ve just written and posted the last of them for The Rocky Road of Love blog.  While the honeymoons are pretend, every one of these places really exist and really would accept visitors (that was the “rule” I made for myself when researching them.)  Anyway, here are links to the final five. (You can revisit summaries of the first five honeymoons by clicking here.)

 Tree House: Turkish Wedding Soup with Spiced Sauce

A treehouse, a freehouse,
A secret you and me house,
A high up in the leafy branches
Cozy as can be house.

A street house, a neat house,
Be sure and wipe your feet house,
Is not my kind of house at all –
Let’s go live in a tree house.

I was inspired by Shel Silverstein’s poem, then I found a real funky-looking treehouse hotel in Turkey and a romantic recipe to go with it.

Tropical Honeymoon in Aruba: Baked Bananas with Rum Sauce

Guilt drove me to give the couple a brief respite at a more typical honeymoon locale.

The “Baked Bananas with Rum Sauce” recipe seems to have been particularly popular, too.

Gee, bananas. Who knew?

To the (Australian) Lighthouse: Lighthouse Cocktails

In researching this one, I fell in love with the Straviken lighthouse in Sweden, but still felt guilty. (My life.  Guilt.)  This time I worried about sending the lovers to someplace so cold in February.  So I found a lighthouse hotel for them in Australia, instead.

There followed a lively exchange (see post’s comments!) with the Straviken’s owner about whether or not there are polar bears in Scandanavia. 

N.B.: There aren’t.

Honey, let’s play (Spanish) Caveman: Quick Vegetarian Paella

I used my own experience staying in a Spanish cave hotel near the Alhambra in Grenada for this one.

And have been yearning for Flamenco music and sangria ever since.

I also finally figured out a way to cook paella that doesn’t call for a million weird ingredients and doesn’t take all day to cook, either.

(Unlike this post, which is giving me absolute fits, probably because of all the pictures.  Wordpress codemakers have some ’splaining to do!!)

Romance on (Ice Hotels) Ice: How to Make an Ice Bowl

Sam and Harry are due home later today, but I have one last honeymoon fantasy to spin for them. This time, it’s a hotel entirely made of ice.  I wanted to make a hotel entirely out of ice too, but decided to settle for making an ice bowl instead.  It took me a while to work out the directions, finally settling for a sort of “Ice Bowls for Dummies” approach (the kind I’d prefer myself) and was quite pleased with it. 

Here’s a link to summaries of my previous five “Honeymoons”, which I’ve just updated.  Don’t expect pictures, though, because I’m done messing with them!

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Treehouse Image: Kadir’s Treehouses in Olympos, Turkey
Divi Tree Image: Manchebo Beach Resort & Spa, Aruba 
Lighthouse Image: Cape Otway Lightstation (original photo source unknown)
View of Alhambra from the Sacromonte: Photograph © John Willer and used with permission.
Ice Bowl: Creative Commons photo by EuphoriaLand

I’m guest blogging this week over at the Rocky Road of Love, where foodies Sam and Harry have finally married each other and are off on their honeymoon. I’ve been trying to guess where they are and what they might be eating. Today I’ve got them staying at a floating resort in Canada, accessible only by sea plane, feeding them a wonderful salmon quiche (recipe provided!) Come by for a visit!

Creative Commons Photo by estherase

Well, that was a strange little interlude.

It seems my predecessor wasn’t quite so eager to resign after all, which wouldn’t necessarily be a problem except that the Board of Directors wasn’t quite sure they could do (ANYTHING) without her, either. So I decided they’d have to do without me instead, and here I am.

The “no succession plan” scenario is, unfortunately, far too common in the nonprofit world (most churches require retiring ministers to leave the congregation entirely, for this very reason). Perhaps this Board will do a better job next time; for my part, I suppose I’ll chalk it up to learning how to fail faster; I was just glad I saw the no-win situation for what it was as soon as I did, and got out before there were any actual murders.

My friend Emily has asked me to guest-host her “Rocky Road of Love” blog for the next week or so (starting Monday) while she is in PARIS doing some research (she’s a writer, and does that sort of thing.) I think she mainly wants to see me get off my dark-night-of-the-soul butt, but it’s very kind of her and I think it will be a lot of fun. Stay tuned!

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