Rambling Thoughts On A Friday The 13th Evening...

So much tragedy everywhere on this all too tiny planet we call home.  So much of this tragedy made by our own greed and unwillingness to listen or even try to understand one another.
The events in Paris call forth loving messages of sympathy from many, dredge up bitter anger from some who feel their own tragedies are ignored.  The loss of ANY life is tragic.  Perhaps places like Paris get more notice because they are more present in the Western mind, more real, more recent.  It is unfortunate, but often true.  That does not mean we don't care about the losses in Syria, Iraq, Iran, any place plagued by unrest and war.  What does happen is that we become fatigued by so much information about tragedy in those places, and alas, we begin to EXPECT tragedy in those places.
The atrocities committed during any war or any terrorist act ANYWHERE are deplorable, and injure mankind.
Donne said it best:
" No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in makind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

We are all of us part of the same whole.  Some people really don't want to believe that, but it's true.  We are ONE race, the HUMAN race, and whether we like it or not, we're stuck with each other.
Those who would claim the Christian faith must remember that our Founder told us as much.  We have been instructed by Jesus Himself:
"Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith:
Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.  This is the first and great commandment  And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.  On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets."
-from the Book Of Common Prayer, 1979, Holy Eucharist Rite I, page 324. Quote is from the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter22, verses 37-40

I find it continually baffling that so many of those who profess to be Christians forget these two commandments.  Assuredly, they ARE difficult.  To love God so profoundly is beyond the grasp of most of us, and as to loving our neighbors as we love ourselves, well, first we have to love ourselves, and most of us truly do not. We operate quite often out of our insecurities, our deep knowledge and fear and hate of our own faults.  Many times, we ENVY our neighbors, who to US seem to have it together far better than WE do, when in reality, they are JUST as insecure as we are.
It is well past time to start looking beyond our own hurts and insecurities, and seeing the wounded people that we ALL are, it is well past time to look with compassion, not pity, but in recognition of the hurts of others in light of our own hurts.
Every day, I know I fall short of this standard, every day I pray for grace to do better, for strength of will to surpass my own love of the status quo.  I see so many obviously trying to do good, to reach out in love.  We must all try, and we must shore each other up when the going gets rough.  No regard to belief system, or ethnicity, or any difference that truly IS no difference.  We are ALL human, we are all on this planet together, and we need each other.  ALL of us.  For our own sake, we need to remember that.
For those of us who are Christians, we must remember that Jesus basically told us as much in that passage about the Great commandments.  We are all children of God, loved by God, and we are responsible TO and FOR each other.  I don't think Jesus was making any distinctions about your neighbor's race, or religion, or anything else.  Your neighbor.  Your fellow human being, that person that maybe you don't really like, but you know what?  He's stuck on this planet with you, just the same as you're stuck with him.  Really not easy, that "loving your neighbor" stuff.  I know.  I fail at it every day.  Every time someone gets on my very last nerve, or says something completely stupid, racist and hateful in the media.  I don't love that particular neighbor very much at that point.  Perhaps I need to pray for them instead of call them nasty names in my head.  Might be better for me, and it might even improve them.  Worth a shot.  Tell you what, you pray, or think good thoughts, or whatever your particular belief system asks you to do, for me, and I'll do the same for you.  If all of us do it, maybe it really will work, and we really will improve.  Even a little bit would be good.

Another quote comes to mind when I think about this planet of ours, and our need to get along on it.  This one is from Star Trek.  (HEY, I'm a geek girl, remember?  I cut my teeth on Star Trek fandom.  Don't let that put you off, there's a REASON that show stuck with so many of us for so long.)

"KIRK: Give me your hand. Your hand. (she does) Now feel that. Human flesh against human flesh. We're the same. We share the same history, the same heritage, the same lives. We're tied together beyond any untying. Man or woman, it makes no difference. We're human. We couldn't escape from each other even if we wanted to. That's how you do it, Lieutenant. By remembering who and what you are. A bit of flesh and blood afloat in a universe without end. The only thing that's truly yours is the rest of humanity. That's where our duty lies."

Even if we believe that we do not share the same heritage or history, we really do.  We are all the product of living on this planet.  Everything that happens on this planet effects everything else on it.  We do not really live isolated from one another, as much as we might wish to believe sometimes. We need to remember that we are responsible to one another, and FOR one another.  
Sigh.  So difficult to do, but so essential.  There is no easy answer.  Humans are complicated, and we love to complicate things.  Doing what sounds simple is the hardest thing of all.
That's about all I have to say on that subject right now.

On to other things:

Today should be a day of happy celebration for a friend of mine.  It is the anniversary of her birth.  Yet this tragedy in Paris happened, and it has cast a pall on her happiness.  
I for one wish to celebrate the fact that she was born, and is still here on this earth.  She is a person who has a generous, loving heart and a fast wit, who has suffered many things, and yet still finds joy in life, who shares her light with all of us, even those she's never met face to face.  I know she loves me, and I love her like a baby sister, or a niece, someone close and treasured.  Even though we have never met in person.  
So, I hope that her birthday is still a day of joy for her, a day that she realizes that there are MANY of us out here who are very, very glad she was born, and that she loves us. 
Happy birthday , Fi.  Be well, and know that you are LOVED.
 

First World Problem Leads to Real World Blessing

Less than halfway through the walk, the music app on  the phone died, and left me with no tunes to motivate my exercise.
No real problem, though, because I had a whole world around me to listen to.
The quiet of a suburban neighborhood in the midmorning is surprising.
There were subtle sounds all around, though.
Small planes droning their way across the unbelievably blue sky,
Blue jays hashing out a territorial dispute on the next block,
A light breeze whispering through the trees,
The subtle crackle of dry leaves on the sidewalk,
The rhythmic beat of my own footsteps on the pavement.
Sometimes, the hum of an air conditioning unit as the early Autumn sun is very warm,
As I get nearer the main road, a bit more traffic noise,
Tires humming on pavement, bodywork rattling over the railroad crossing,
In the distance, a train horn.
The lonely, twangy song of a lone cicada, who somehow overslept the end of the season,
The buzz of the locusts as they hop-fly out of my path,
Quiet cricket chirps from the deep shade under a nearby stand of trees,
Whirring of dragonfly wings as one swoops by me,
Sometimes a far-off , muted roar of a jet flying far, far overhead.
The occasional weed trimmer and/or lawnmower may be heard as well,
And one neighbor is power-washing his house.
Gotta get the dusty grime of the Oklahoma summer off before winter hits!
Greetings from the neighborhood dogs as I pass.  Usually friendly barks,
Sometimes territorial assertions, at least until I tell them they are good dogs, doing a dog's work well.
Then, the greetings are friendly, tails wag behind their fences.
Machine noises and rattles and bangs behind the supermarket, deliveries made, and garbage taken out.
Back on the noisy main road, and headed toward home, the noontime traffic of high school students heading toward the fast food places for lunch, another train warning of its approach.
Back to my own front porch and the creaky squeaky storm door, and the satisfying snick of the key in the well-oiled lock.
Now I seek the comfort of the ceiling fan in the dining room, and put away all my "walk support equipment".
I come in here, do some free weight exercises, stretch, and get this machine going.
And then I wrote this.
Now I have to go wash the grime of exercise both physical and mental off myself so I can continue with the day's work.
All this I actually paid attention to
Because my favorite distraction was silenced.

Just Playing With Words

Rain
CKArmistead
May 2015

It fell first in drops,
Then in streaks,
Then sheets,
Then torrents,
And then a continuous
Deluge,
As if someone were
Spraying the world
With a giant fire hose.
I wish it would stop,
For the ground is squishy,
The plants are looking sickly,
There are mosquitoes everywhere,
Though for years we prayed for rain,
It occurs to me that
There CAN be too much
Of a good thing.

Rambling Thoughts
June 2015

I may wish I still looked young
But I know I don't.
So I leave my photos alone.
I put that saggy neck and those crepe-y arms out there
For the world to see.
Soon, I'll let my hair go gray
And find out how that will be.
On the inside
I am still the geeky fangirl
I was in my teens.
Maybe a bit more mature,
But still silly sometimes.
The older I get
The more I learn
That what's on the outside
Isn't who I am,
Except for the sparkle in my eye,
The dimples in my smile,
Put there by the brightness
In my heart.
Part of me has always felt older than my years
I feel like the rest of me is finally catching up.
There are times I feel I've heard an ancient song
Playing down the years
That nobody around me hears.
Places in my heart that bagpipes speak to,
When I've never been to Scotland,
Visions of mountains and lochs
That my eyes have never seen.
Fiddle tunes and banjo pickings
That stir my heart and set my feet to tapping.
When I have spent little time
In those places that my family lived
In this country.
Transplanted to California,
When the family was all from the South,
And the Appalachians.
Still, mariachis and flamenco guitar
Make me happy
Because they are the sounds I heard often
In my environment in my youth.
As well as Gospel songs,
Motown music,
And playground clapping chants.
Life has been so rich, so full of laughter, music, and friends
I've had the love of a good man
For many years now
We've seen good times and bad,
Been separated by thousands of miles
But still close
In our hearts. 
He's taught me to trust myself
Taken me to live in a foreign land
Vexed me something awful,
Made me laugh,
And loved me even when I was being completely unlovable.
Wherever my mind rambles,
It always wanders back to him.
My knight in smelly flightsuit,
My loadmaster,
My Matthew.

Summer
June 2015

Sticky, mosquito laden air
Makes me glad I cut off my hair
Busy, child filled library days
Make me glad I keep in shape
But the sun is so very welcome
After all the rain
Calm weather
After all the storms of May
In Oklahoma,
We are always glad to see the end of May
Too many sad anniversary days
Come around in May.
June is usually hot and dry
And that  is a blessing this year
That we are thankful for.

Poetry Has Happened Again...

Stubborn Love

By C.K. Armistead

May 2015

And what am I

That thou shouldst

Love me?

What worth hast

Thou seen

That none other can?

Why do you forgive my faults

When I insist

On counting them,

Wearing their number

Like a badge of

Dishonor

Proving that I

Am worthless?

Why dost thou love?

And with such persistence!

I know myself to be

Unworthy.

But oh, I treasure

That love of thine.

Hoarding

By C.K. Armistead

May 2015

And so I put

The three small pieces

Of chocolate

Back into the bag.

Extra saved for

Another day.

Instead of a splurge

For today.

I never wanted to become

This careful person,

This hoarder of today’s

Good things

Against tomorrow’s scarcity.

For there’s no guarantee

Of tomorrow.

And when did I become

This way

With my love?

Hoarding the one thing

That grows

If you give it away?

All I have done

Is impoverish my todays.

And my joys,

I try to hoard those

As well.

But joy unshared

Festers in storage

And begins to reek.

My solitary nature

Is averse to all

The good things I seek.

Amber

By C.K. Armistead

May 2015

O frozen blood

Of ancient tree,

Held in the thrall

Of time for me

The fire trapped

In thy soft stone

A future mapped,

Retold by a crone

In thy occluded heart

Memories of the past

Are safely caught

And held fast

O frozen tears

Of Earth's lost art,

Even after thousands of years,

Your beauty warms my heart.

I  have felt like I'm just marking time lately.  The arrival of finished poems on the page helps.  The fact that I have actually accomplished some things I set out to do today helps.  It is indeed a good thing that life comes to us one day at a time.  I must remember that when I get overwhelmed by what I must do, must deal with.  

Thursday Night At The Library is over for another week, and tomorrow's FRIDAY!!!  

Life is indeed good. 

The Last Advent Candle Is Lit - On The First Day Of Winter

The shortest day, the longest night of the year, perhaps the coldest where you may be, perhaps the opposite in all regards if you live in the Southern Hemisphere.

Here, this day is dark, dreary, and COLD.  The news abroad in the world isn't much brighter.  In fact, a lot of it is worse.  There is death from disease, poverty, and murder, there is hatred, there is war.  No world for a child to be born into.
Arguably, it was the same more than two thousand years ago, when the Child some of us celebrate came into this world.  That was no time for a child to be born.  The land he was born into was under the rule of Imperial Rome.  For the Israelites, it was difficult, dangerous, and offensive to live under the sway of a pagan regime.
This theme is not a new one, in fact, I find it hard to say this in a way that might sound new.  Many have observed that this world is almost NEVER joyful, or at peace, or even safe for everyone.  Perhaps the theme is best remembered from the old carol I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day

You can hear the song and read the lyricsHERE
..."And in despair I bowed my head,
   There is no peace on earth, I said
    For hate is strong, and mocks the song
   Of Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men."

That verse was written in 1867.  (By Longfellow.  No wonder I've always loved it. )  Surely, peace was hard to come by, and strife very strong indeed.  So it is today.  There are wars ongoing in many places, there are horrible diseases ravaging populations, there is hatred and unrest in our very own nation.  Perhaps because we continually lose sight of the meaning behind this season.  Even if we catch up with the "true Spirit of Christmas" during the holiday itself, we lose it along the way. ALL of us.  Even those of us who really try.  We ALL need to try harder, to commit ourselves anew to remembering that Love chose to be born into this world as a tiny baby, in an occupied country, to an  oppressed minority.  That ALL the religious leaders who have ever been  revered in this world have stressed that LOVE is the only really important thing.  Love of God, love of others, the kind of love that shares and helps and believes and hopes.
May the God of Love forgive us, we have tainted that message.  We have killed in the name of religion, used our different beliefs as a license to revile and condemn those who disagree, totally ignored the more difficult call to love our enemies.
How easy it is to hate.  What a lazy way to deal with others.  Never try to see the other side of an issue, never tolerate for a moment the idea that you may be wrong, that maybe GOD would want you to listen and to reserve judgement.  So easy to get caught up in the clamoring of those who would rush to condemnation and revenge.  It is difficult to stand with Love.  Love is hard work.  You may well love someone, but not like them very much some days.  Love is stronger, deeper, and more reliable than mere liking.  How difficult it must have been for that Child, born into such a desolate land and people, to look with love upon those who reviled him because of his faith, his ethnicity.  How much MORE difficult when the ones who were his own people reviled him because he dared to preach love and forgiveness and not revolution.
Those of us who claim to be followers of that Child, followers of Christ, we have a lot of bad behavior to answer for.  We have not listened with our hearts to His call to love.  We have let Him down, let each other down, and let the world down.  We are NOT called to hate, to sit in judgement, to FORCE others to agree with us, we are called to LOVE.  It is the the single most difficult thing I have ever pondered doing.  It is even harder in practice.  Yes, we are forgiven our sins, IF we repent and recognize that we have done wrong, our resolve to do better will be blessed.  He who came and offered Himself for us in love, loves us still.  No matter WHAT we have done, it breaks His heart, I am sure, because He loves us, and WANTS that better world for us.  The world we would have if we ALL lived by the words given us by the leaders of our faiths.  If we live by love.
I do not exempt myself from guilt.  I tend to be self-centered, having lived a lot of my childhood with no playmates to speak of, I did not have to learn much about sharing and cooperation until I started school.  I am the absolute WORST at thinking of others first, of reacting immediately with love.  I do try, I remind myself, I pray for help, but I still fall FAR short.  I am still far too judgmental, even if only in my own head.  (Our thoughts can and do affect our actions, so ...)
I can only promise that I am TRYING to change.  Every single day.  For those of you who interact regularly with me, if I have hurt you, failed you, otherwise let you down, I am sorry.  I do love you, I care for you, and I don't WANT to hurt you.  (Especially my most long-suffering and loving spouse, who loves me in spite of my many, many faults.)  My gift to you at this season, and every day of every year is that I will do my utmost to learn to react first from LOVE instead of selfishness.
If all of us try that, maybe, just maybe, the world will be a brighter place.

As for the devastating news that's been circulating lately, of killings and hate, well, it is nothing new.  Those of us who were here in Oklahoma City in 1995 can tell you that.  Our church was damaged in that act of violence, and that Christmas (and the next) we were stuck worshiping in the parish hall.  I wrote a poem about it.  I'd like to share it again, if you'll indulge me:

Christmas Eve
By Carolyn Kay Armistead, 1996

The scent of pine needles, incense, and candlewax fill the air.
There is much confusion about the processional, and just who goes where.
But the night is full of magic, wonder and joy
As our Christian family prepares once again to welcome the baby boy.

The baby boy who came into a world of uncertainty and pain,
Who understands how we feel, being in Dean Willey Hall again,
And not in our beautiful Cathedral, with its comfort and sacredness.
He knows how it feels to deal with hatred's harmful effects.

Well He knows our sorrow, our impatience and our pain
And yet He makes us glad to be together, even if in the Hall again.
For He was not born in a fancy palace, or a hospital clean and grand;
But in a lowly stable, with cows, sheep and shepherds close to hand.

If He could be content with a birthplace so quiet and humble;
Who are we to be unhappy with our lot and to grumble?
After all, we are safe and still together, and together we still can sing
The same joyful song of angels, and isn't that the most important thing?


Yes, we still had each other, and that was indeed the most beautiful and important thing.  I see many of those same faces in the choir and the congregation this year, and I am so very glad to see them.  These are my fellow travelers on this road of faith, this difficult journey of trying to live up to the gift of love we have been given.  It wasn't easy then, and it still isn't.

Yes, there is a LOT wrong with this world, there is a lot of hatred and fear.  There is also Love.  I have found those who love almost everywhere I go, including the Internet and social media.  Yes, there are sour and negative and hateful people just about everywhere, but if you look, there's an awful lot of loving and kind ones, too.  Let that give you hope this season, and remember, BE THE CHANGE YOU WISH TO SEE IN THE WORLD.  If YOU don't react with love, how will love grow?
Back to that Christmas carol.  The next to the last verse says this all so much more succinctly.
"Then pealed the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor doth He sleep.
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men."

(Down, feminists; "men" was an accepted abbreviation for "human". I believe largely because the Greek Anthropos was translated as "man" instead of "human", or "mankind". )

On this longest night of the year, on this very cold day, when the darkness seems so ready to crush us and put us all in the cold, let us light the fourth candle of Advent, the candle of Peace.
To quote an old TV show I happen to be very fond of, let us remember that darkness is merely the absence of light, and all winters end!

Let us resolve to try and BE the light!
LOVE to you and PEACE!

The Advent Wreath 

Adventures in Bread Baking - Oatmeal Sourdough In My Current Favorite Variations

This is a recipe I have used over and over again, and I have many variations on it.  Today I will interrupt the written recipe below with photos and with my current favorite variations.

Oatmeal Sourdough

You can make this oatmeal sourdough bread in many ways.  Slice diagonally for great oven toast.(If you make the traditional tapered loaves.  Slice as usual for bread if you use the loaf pans as shown here.)

The night, or day before baking, to make a sponge, in a large bowl combine:

 

This is how the sponge looks in the morning.

1 cup sourdough starter

2 cups warm water

1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats

3 cups unbleached all- purpose flour (I have also used whole wheat pastry flour.)

Stir well.  Cover and let ferment overnight, or as long as 24 hours.  When ready to bake, to soften yeast, in another large bowl combine:

½ cup warm water

1 scant tablespoon (or 1 packet) active dry yeast.

(I also add the recommended amount per loaf of vital wheat gluten when using the pastry flour.)

Stir into softened yeast mixture, in this order

¼ cup brown sugar

¼ cup soft butter

1 tablespoon salt

fermented sourdough sponge

2 cups all-purpose flour

Beat well.  To make a soft dough, gradually add:

1 to 2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour.

Turn out on a floured surface and knead until smooth.  Place in a greased bowl, turning dough once to grease the top. 

  Cover and let rise until doubled in bulk, 45 to 60 minutes.  

Risen dough.

 Knead dough down in bowl.  Divide dough into three parts.  Pat or roll each part into an 8-inch square.

If adding a filling, spread them to within 1" of edges of square of dough.

  Starting at one corner of square, roll to a tapered loaf.  Place on greased baking sheets, seam side down.

I also use  small loaf pans, miniature size, with 1/6 of the batch of dough in each.  81/2 x 4 1/2 x 2" pans may also be used if dividing dough into thirds as usual.  

 Cover and let rise until almost doubled, 30 to 45 minutes.  Before baking, brush tops of loaves with melted butter, sprinkle with rolled oats, if desired.

Risen loaves.

Bake in a preheated 375 degree oven for 35 to 40 minutes. *If you are using the mini loaf pans as I have here, check the loaves after about 20 min.  Should be brown and sound hollow when bottom is tapped.*  Cool on wire racks.  Makes 3 loaves.

Today's loaves set to rise.  Far loaves are really in too big of a pan size, but I was out of small pans.

 These loaves are: Bittersweet chocolate mint (at top)  Filled with a paste made of the leaves from 5 good sized (6" long" sprigs of chocolate mint fresh from the garden and about 1/3 cup of bittersweet chips, 2 Tbsp. butter, 1 Tbsp milk, and 2 Tbsp of walnuts processed in small food processor until a paste.

Parmesan and Pepperoni (Middle)  These are the loaves in the photos above, filled with about 1/4 C grated Parmesan cheese and 1/4 cup mini pepperoni pieces.

Provence Herb loaves (bottom) these are filled with my herb paste made of parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme and a tiny bit of lavender, butter, a bit of olive oil, and a tablespoon or so of walnuts processes until almost smooth in food processor. I salt the tops of the Provence Herb loaves because I didn't put any salt in the herb paste. I always try to decorate filled loaves in a way that shows what's inside.  Sometimes these decorations come off during baking.  

And here are the finished loaves.  As you can see, some of the pepperoni and the mint leaves have come off.  Can't wait until I get done with the yard work and get the laundry started.  I am looking forward to trying the Chocolate mint bread with some ice cold Moscato.  

We took some of this same type of bread with us yesterday when we visited our friends at Canadian River Vineyards and Winery.  We enjoyed sharing it with them while we sampled some of their wines.  We replenished our wine cabinet, and included in that was two bottles of their lovely sweet,but not cloying, Moscato.  I am using that as the carrot to get myself out into the hot yard to get the mowing done.  Also have to sort laundry.  Chores are not fun, but I am so glad to have the yard that requires mowing and the means to mow it.  I am also grateful for the clothing that needs washing, and the very nice washer and dryer to wash and dry them with.  After last Spring, I appreciate this house and all my stuff a lot more.  Still have too much stuff, but glad it is still here, and not scattered between here and Del City.

I will add a picture later of the sliced bread, and my wineglass, possibly.

Here we go!  Canadian River Moscato with my chocolate mint swirl bread.  Mmmmmm.