Here’s a question for those who love to spend time in the kitchen and there are still many of us out there, fortunately. How many times have you come across hand written notes in a used cook book you bought? Or one handed down from mother to daughter to granddaughter or thankfully, today to sons, etc.? Have you written adjustments to a recipe to suit your own tastes? I know I have. The first time I try it their way. After that, I’m doing it my way, altering their recipe and sometimes my own to accommodate a healthier recipe.
Think about the way our Moms cooked 40 years ago and how we cook today. Especially if you have changed Mom’s recipes for healthier ones. That is how tastes evolve, restaurants stay at the top of the list; by tasting, adding more of this, less of that, and changing this ingredient or seasoning for that one. It’s like exploring without leaving the kitchen!
We are lucky here in America where immigrants bringing their herbs and spices with them when they came, introduced us to new tastes; even their fish and meat unknown to us as children. I was 40 before I ever tasted goat and 60 before I tasted kale. We definitely have a melting pot of ethnic foods and I have definitely altered cookbook recipes to suit my own taste. Try it……
Category: Uncategorized
Writing in Margins
This kind of writing in books is so very different from writing inscriptions. It was appalling to me to find that people actually wrote in margins, crossed out printed text of the author’s, and put their own words in their place! Sacrilege! This is the very last kind of writing in books that I learned to do.
These past few years I began to follow suit, but only in books I have bought, not borrowed books, be them library or a friend’s. My reading habits have changed, too. I’m reading more non-fiction books, many that require major thinking. So this is the place to respond…..in the margin. Because the word is printed does not mean I have to agree with it. Sometimes I agree with a passion and just have to take note! Placing my small, printed notes in the margin will attract my attention when I read that book again. Who knows? My opinion may change the second time I read it.
I’m not likely to re-read a novel, except for a few chosen classics that have different messages for me as I’ve grown and understand more.
As for buying a used book with notes in the margin……I love the chance to read what someone else has thought about the author’s words. However, I cannot abide a book with underlining or highlighting!!! That, for me, is strictly for studying and I don’t want to read someone else’s book that is so corrupted. Of course I do it myself now as the photo shows you. My writing group is working its way through the Artist’s Rule by Christine Valters Paintner. I find sometimes I do not agree with her statements and sometimes I am very impressed by them.
These books are kept on my shelf and will not go to the used book store or be donated to the library. They are not intended for re-use for others. It would feel like giving my fingerprints away.
Longbourn by Jo Baker…..a review
Longbourn. The very name of the manor house of the Bennet family of Jane Austen fame will perk up the ears of any reader and avid fan of Pride & Prejudice. Yet there are so many offshoots of the Jane Austen novels that are not worthy of a true fan of hers. I found that Longbourn by Jo Baker is an excellent read. The story comes from the voice of Sarah, an orphan servant below stairs. As she comes of age, she tells the story from her viewpoint, longing for love and wishing a man would rescue her from this life.
When James Smith comes on the scene as a footman, it is obvious to Sarah that there is a secret to uncover; something to do with Longbourn. Secrets must be uncovered, she says to no one there.
Ptolemy, a freed man of Africa, who takes on his master’s name of Bingley enters the picture with big, wild, dreams of his own and he’d like Sarah to share them. Sarah longs for a life away from the drudgery and doesn’t mind going after what she desires.
Jo Baker does an exceptional job of writing. She keeps the language of the early 19th century, only revealing what the downstairs servants would have known or heard of what was going on upstairs, and describing what their lives would truly have been like. She also shows a different view of Mr. Bennet and Mr. Collins. Brava to you Ms. Baker.
Losing Something Precious
While I was unpacking from a recent weekend in Bordentown, I realized my Cosmetic Bag was missing. I don’t use cosmetics but I do place my personal items in there. I frantically searched through all the tote bags and book bags that I tend to take along, bringing home more than I took. Nothing. I tore apart my wee car that has no room to hide anything. Nothing. I looked on the porch, steps, and around the car. Nothing.
I was devastated!
Eating in restaurants and not taking my diuretics over the weekend (because I was too busy running here & there) caused my hands to swell a bit. Since I was leaving early in the morning, I had not exercised at all. That added to the swelling. Which means that I tossed all my rings into the jewelry pouch and tossed it into my Cosmetic Bag. Which means that I lost the most precious item I own….a Mother’s ring that my four sons gave me-on Mothers’ Day- back in 1976. It is the only thing I possessed that all four boys gifted me together.
Sobbing over my loss, sorrow and remorse set on my chest like a lead barbell. Before the end of the day, I dowsed with my crystal which told me that I would never see my precious ring again. Realization set in and I went to my laptop to heal this gaping wound.
This is what came out:
How Empty the Vessel
How empty does the vessel have to be
before it begins to refill or is it refilling
and I don’t notice
My sons are gone; I no longer mourn the loss
yet losing my ring after 38 years of feeling its
preciousness, of being so cautious, of leaving
it home if there was a chance of losing it;
the ring they gave me one Mother’s Day;
a collective gift the youngest boy didn’t even
realize, yet was included anyway
also in the pouch was a bracelet, not expensive
with small matching turquoise triangles on lacy
gold, just recently brought out to wear again
bought in a moment when money was short
I needed a lift to keep me from sinking into a pit
so I bought it; leaving milk & bread & beef &
cigarettes off the list to accommodate
never regretting it
a pair of cloisonné bangles, that I held back
from selling in the shop, unable to part with them
I’ve parted from them now;
a slender, delicate rhinestone tennis bracelet that I
bought, though I don’t play tennis, a bracelet that
lovers & husbands buy to show their love; I felt
pleasure wearing it, does that mean I love myself,
can I still love myself now that the bracelet is gone?
a silver spoon ring given in friendship from a
lover that still carried the love in it & the memories
40 years later; will a replacement feel the same on
my finger? a spiral ring, the symbol of eternity,
purchased in a special moment exuding joy whenever
it was worn; gone…they are all gone
losing things was rare for 40 years, never lost a thing
then it began, first my son Kenny, then my son Guy,
a diamond out of my engagement ring from my beloved
Angelo, his signet ring given with great intensity, one
diamond stud earring, lost in my bed at night-never to be
found, how could that be? then Angelo passed; only things
truly loved from those I truly loved, is this a cleansing;
is this the emptying before the refilling can begin;
this must have meaning to it; these losses hurt
I’m letting go of the past …I am letting go … I promise
I am letting go.
Arlene Sandra Bice © 2014
I can only hope that a man/boy found the Bag and is joyful in giving my treasures to someone who will cherish them as I did. Someone who thrills in their good luck, is what I picture. I prefer that to an image of the Bag being tossed into a trash can where no one would love them.
Hot Cross Buns
Mom loved Hot Cross Buns
but only on Easter morning
her grandmother Paulina
made them every year
it was tradition
I liked the white cross on them;
would have licked off each one
in the dozen , if allowed
but I wasn’t
Our Easter baskets, brought down
from the attic each year, looked different
with green grass, chocolate bunnies,
yellow chicks & brightly colored eggs
sitting atop jelly beans
One Allfather’s Egg served the family
very sweetly coconut with a bright
sunflower-yellow yolk in the center
all covered with thick chocolate
that was our tradition
we didn’t have grandparents
the night before, my brother Bob & I
mixed color tablets with stinky vinegar
in Mom’s coffee cups, intense colors
appeared like magic
a teaspoon dipped the cooked egg
into the cup, after we wrote our names
staking our claims, until the dozen were done
color mixing produced ugly gray eggs at the end
we created another tradition
when my kids came along, I experimented
with onion skins, dark yellow ones that
created their own design on the eggs,
deep red, beet juice for purple-ly pinks,
blueberries for blues, waxy crayons for
writing names
and the boys had to hunt for their eggs
in the morning, winning prizes for finding
the special eggs marked with a star
creating a new tradition
Arlene S. Bice © 2014
More on Purple Socks
The idea of purple socks played in the back of my mind. How come Sharon and I are the only two people I know that wear purple socks. Or at least the only two I’ve seen. And I’ve been wearing them long enough that some people will come up to me and obviously look down to see if I’m still wearing purple socks.
Two years ago when I went online to find purple socks they were difficult to find. Now they are all over the ‘net; expensive trouser sox, knee sox, some with argyle design. And I even found what I was looking for, some reasonably priced cotton slouch sox.
Curiosity has crept in. What were other people saying about purple socks? Maybe I’d find some answers there. Continuing the search on the ‘net came up with:
In the book Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, there is a boy in Harriet’s class that wears purple socks. She figured he must wear them because they make him lucky. This information came to me from Mimi’s Musings, a blog at: http://bernecho.wordpress.com/2012/10/03/purple-socks/ I had never read Harriet the Spy but I like this boy already. I may have to read the book to learn about him.
Apparently there are some purple socks floating in and out of the Harry Potter stories.
A line of lyrics from Birds of a Feather by Lana Del Rey is “You wear purple socks and still like Purple Haze”
Purple socks are related to the gay community….not a factor in my case. Purple socks are indicative that the wearer does not have underwear on….not a factor in my case either.
I’ll continue to wear purple socks now that the chilly weather has set in. No reason to change. Hmmm. Maybe there are enough out there that I can comparative shop….online, of course.
I Came Upon This Door
I Came Upon This Door
Our recent program “A Gathering of Artists & Poets” was a huge success with 59 people in attendance. This is one of my paintings with poem to compliment it. Please enjoy.
i
I Came Upon This Door
When roaming a medieval town
I came upon this door,
by accident, I thought
tucked into
a hidden lane
a short distance away,
it summoned me
come closer, enter after knocking
I remembered it, but how? I have never been here before
The lamp bid me as welcome
as a candle in a window
it felt familiar
as I paused
letting my senses
respond,
to warn or
to comfort I did not know.
But I felt I had been here before, a long, long time ago.
The knocker beckoned
my hand to grasp
let it fall,
send echoes
down the hall
of stone
cold
secretive, empty
with stories to tell of other times amidst this forgotten pall
As memories came to mind
visions of men, women
revealed to me,
I wondered
what string or crumbs
brought me here
to revive
those stories of long ago
of those folks, kindred who must not be left, thoughtlessly, behind
Arlene S. Bice, © 2013
PurpleStone February Ezine
PurpleStone Press Ezine ©
A Monthly Newsletter to keep readers informed on news in the book world, about moments not easily explained, stretching out to other genres, a personal story, events going on, comments from readers and more. Readers are welcome to comment or add their thoughts to the next newsletter.
In This Issue February 2013
Click Reply, enter your email address with the word Subscribe and return it to me at asbice@aol.com if you would like to receive the monthly Ezine on books, stories, life’s quirks, and other bits of interest to inquisitive readers.
Happenings & News At the FoodWorks-S. Main St. Warrenton-Friday: our Ribbon Cutting with live jazz from Just Friends! 4:00-6:30
What’s Goin’ On? ‘A Gathering of Artists & Poets’ Reception
(An opening show of original paintings –
with the poems written about them, read by the poets)
Join Us
Tuesday 19th February 2013
5:00 – 6:30
Artists & Poets:
Arlene Bice * Sherman Johnson * Thomas Park *
Jay Pearson * * Wheeler Smith
Warren County Memorial Library Community Room
119 So. Front St.
Warrenton NC
Refreshments Served
Sponsored by: Warren County Artists Market
Also: A new anthology coming together: The subject to write about: “Tell us about the creative passions that light your life. These can be painting, poetry, carpentry, cooking, weaving, sewing, gardening etc.” in poetry or essay form.. If you have any further questions or would like to submit & want guidelines, please email me at: asbice@aol.com
Stories… William R. Poole Haunts……..For reasons sometimes unknown to us, we feel a love of something so strong that we want to cherish and protect it forever. With William R. Poole his love was poured into trees and his beloved white horse. William R. is said to have begun his adult life with nearly empty pockets, but soon began amassing land for his farm and for his forests that he loved so much. He continued progressing through life by serving as Justice of Wake County Court of Pleas and Quarters Sessions and Chairman of the Board of Wake County Commissioners.
It was Poole’s habit to ride his great white horse through his woods every day, spending much time there in the heat of summer and the cold, bareness of winter. The Civil War exploded in North Carolina. At the end Raleigh was occupied by Sherman and his troops, mostly in an orderly fashion. But there are always exceptions….. A handful of Yankee soldiers heard that Poole concealed a fortune in gold in his woods. Poole instinctively knew they would pay him a visit. He bided his time, sitting on his veranda in his cane bottom chair when they charged in on their horses. His slaves were long gone. He was alone. Their conversation did not go well. The Yankees demanded the gold. Poole denied having any treasure at all. The men in blue bullied him and bound him to a fence rail. They dragged him on that rail to his corn mill. When he insisted there was no gold, they burned his mill down.
In frustration the soldiers began poking and prodding between and around Poole’s cherished trees, uprooting no gold or treasure. The Yanks caused such a disturbance that Poole’s proud steed neighed and whinnied in response. His beautiful companion was wrested from the protective, secret hideaway where Poole had stashed him with the comfort of fresh hay and a dry stall. He watched sorrowfully, dejected as his coveted steed’s hooves thundered away with the military horses, a blue-coated Yankee on his back. Never would he see his dear companion again.
Poole recovered and became active again in rebuilding Raleigh and Wake County. Eventually the Carpetbaggers and the Yankees were sent away. Poole died in 1889, seven years after building the Wake County Courthouse. He remained faithful in his love for his woods.
The Will of William R. Poole stipulated that a particular 75 acre tract of his woodland was to remain as such without even one tree being cut down or hauled away. The Will was upheld for a period of time but couldn’t hold out forever. Times changed. Suburbia was springing up everywhere. In the 1920s developers wanted that piece of ground as the area around it developed with houses and families.
But Poole got the last laugh from the grave. When the trees were harvested, each and every one was rotten from the inside, unable to be used for anything. Before those trees were cleared, some folks refused to go into the dense, dark forest. They said it was haunted. Fear ran through the area. Some told about seeing a filmy, galloping white stallion charging between the trees, knowing exactly where to place his hooves. Some say the spirit of William R. Poole was finally reunited with his dearest companion and they streaked through the forest at night to check that no one has chopped down his precious trees. Even after the land was developed into neighborhoods, folks say he is seen riding along the highway yet today; he and his faithful companion, a misty blur of white trotting along the road.
Blogs, I Get Blogs…. There are so many blogs out there and I keep adding more to my list of must reads. Kevin seems to be a neat guy, one I would like to have for a personal friend. His A Garden For the House is one of my favorites for garden tips inside and out along with recipes that are simple but uncommon and also views of his lovely old house. Check it out at;www.agardenforthehouse.com
T his Month……While working on Bordentown stories, I’m also collecting North Carolina true ghost tales for the next book. If you know of anyone who would like to tell me their story, please put them in touch with me at: asbice@aol.com or 252-257-4838. Thanks ahead of time.
Book Review…….. Brewing, by New Jersey Abigail Lorraine Pelletteri. A slender little book of poetry to read one at a time, now and then for contemplation, beauty and peace. And then to re-read after letting it sit on the shelf for awhile. I like her style, form, rhythm, and the subjects that touch her. I like to carry a book of poetry with me for moments of reflection or to keep my blood pressure down when I have to wait in an office waiting room. You can find her at: www.abigaillorraine.com/Photography 101
The Latest……. Ghostly Spirits of Warren County NC & Beyond (Soft Cover-2012 PurpleStone Press) $18.95 A candle in the window, a man who walks through walls, a woman from long ago…..peek into the personal stories of hauntings from those who wish to remain in their place on earth instead of going forward into the after-life. Warren County was a wealthy, thriving place during the antebellum years. Warrenton was the hub of activity, a destination on market days where friends gathered. These imprints were left and remain today.
Also Available…. Ghosts Of Bordentown (NJ) $14.95, Haunted Bordentown … (NJ) $14.95, Life & Labyrinth …$17.95 Memoir & Poetry, Major Fraser’s A House & Its History $19.95, Images of America Series -Bordentown, Bordentown history, New Egypt & Plumsted Township, A history, Bordentown Revisited, More history including its surrounds.
Subscribe: Click Reply, enter your email address with the word Subscribe and return it to me if you would like to receive a monthly Ezine on books, stories, life’s quirks, and other bits of interest to inquisitive readers. If you would like to unsubscribe, do the same interjecting the word unsubscribe, of course.
Keep your mind open. Keep reading. Be kind. Be gentle.
PurpleStone Press asbice@aol.com, http://purplestoneblog.com/
Arlene S. Bice writer-lecturer-artist P O Box 348 Macon, NC 27551
Dressing for a Holiday Party
Okay, you are invited to the Office Party or a Neighborhood Party or to a friend’s house for a holiday dinner. All three invites have encouraged you to wear dressy-casual, or is it casually dressed. With so many people having individual interpretations of this, just what do you wear? If you live in the city such as NYC or Chicago or somewhere in between, it is a pretty good guess that means clothes accented by sparkly jewelry, designer scarves, perfume, nails polished, hair done at the professionals, and probably high heels of various heights.
What about if you live in the woods, the farm or somewhere in between those places? What does one wear then to a party or dinner gathering during the holidays, regardless of which one you honor? What does casual mean then? Would it be sweat suits with spangles on them declaring that they are dressy for the holidays? Dark running shoes rather than the white ones? Jeans, if you can still fit into them after the first few parties?
It seems I just don’t know anymore and it was once a self-assured answer on the tip of my tongue if anyone asked me. Then again, after a few glasses of wine, does anyone really care?