< christmas blessings >

[rayheinrich]

                                 
                                               
                                               
                                                < christmas blessings >
                                               
                                                the warm rug in the living room
                                                when we were kids
                                                still sits
                                                some place in our heads
                                               
                                                my head
                                                and my sister's head
                                                as she talks to me
                                                long distance from the coast
                                               
                                                dad
                                                is asking us again
                                                to guess the presents
                                               
                                                and the tree
                                                 
                                                rises above us
                                               
                                                as we sit on our warm rug
                                                and forget
                                                we're on the telephone
                                               
                                                            - - -

[Achebe]

'and the tree rises above us'
literally breathtaking - the transition from trite first world reminiscence of everychildhood to something on an impossible plane of beauty.
Literally because I held my breath in, like after a sucker punch.

[ellajam]

mmmm, that special bond of scars and sweetness. And love, with all that comes with it.

Pretty fine with those few words, merry christmas, ray, to you and yours.

[rayheinrich]

'and the tree rises above us'
literally breathtaking - the transition from trite first world reminiscence of everychildhood to something on an impossible plane of beauty.
Literally because I held my breath in, like after a sucker punch.

You sir, are to be cherished.

---

mmmm, that special bond of scars and sweetness. And love, with all that comes with it.

Pretty fine with those few words, merry Christmas, ray, to you and yours.

A jolly Santa to you and your assorted stalkers as well.
I have an olive oil comment to leave over yonder but am busy baking my little
chocolate-drop cookie ass off right now. (And no, I don't use bacon fat, I'm using
God's own butter. [I have, in the past, used lard. It makes the best ones. And
for pie shells, there is no equal. Butter really sucks in a warm climate. Up north
I'd just set up in the garage. 55 F is ideal for making butter-based pie shells.
Not that I have a problem anymore, I use the "Cook's Test Kitchen" method
which utilizes part vodka. You can work moist to start, but then the alcohol
evaporates leaving just the right amount of water behind.

All this for festive cooking. When I'm at home, virtually the only fat I use is
olive oil, I'm vegetarian (the political 'bad for the animals and environment and not
that healthy to eat a lot of' type.  But come xmas time, bacon rules. At home my pie
shells are either graham cracker or sticky sushi rice held together with tofu paste.
Low fat and crunchy.

Ray