Bread, Wine, Salt

"Breathe in and out." That's what I'd tell them, the parents who woke this morning, if they slept at all, still living the nightmare from yesterday, if I had occasion to speak with them, if they asked me how they should go on. But they are many states away, and I don't know them. I'm fairly sure they don't want my opinion. But you are here, which means you probably know me, and might care about my opinion.  I've written about grief a good deal. I don't have any new insights since my last bout of sermonizing. So here is a run down of what I've written already: I don't know what to say , reprint, originally from December 2009 How the story of Job teaches us what to do when our friends are hurting. On the Phone , August 2010 What to say to people who are grieving. What it means to Pray , August 2010 If prayer doesn't come easily, or if you think you can't pray, this is a simple way to start. When the Lid is Taken Off...

Luke 21:25-36 Jesus said, "There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in a cloud' with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." Then he told them a parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. "Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with...

While the headlines are fading, the recovery work continues. JHL of A Half-Baked Life is hosting a bake sale/auction , with proceeds going to the United Way for Sandy relief. Take a look at all the yummy things available. My oatmeal cookies are part of the auction, and the winner can customize them any way they choose . mmm...cookies

I had this idea in my head that I wanted pumpkin granola muffins, with the granola acting as a less-sweet streusel topping. I borrowed Maud's pumpkin bread recipe. (It's not on her blog. You should harass her about that.) The muffins weren't a disaster. Muffins rarely are. But they weren't great. No one loved them. The recipe uses one half of a can of pumpkin, so then there was a half can of pumpkin in my refrigerator, mocking me and my failed muffins. (We'll ignore what else might have been mocking me recently. This is about muffins. Whatever else is wrong it seems only fair that I should be able to produce a decent batch of muffins.) So I went back and tried again. I swapped out some oatmeal for some of the flour, added in crystallized ginger and walnuts. In the process I discovered what might have been a critical error in the last batch.) And then I put it in oven, told facebook all about it, and waited.     Unlike the other things I've been wai...

Summer tastes like a bruised peach before breakfast, eaten over the sink while juice runs down your arm. ...like watermelon straight from the refrigerator, cold to the core, eaten while your skin is still hot to the touch, still shining with sweat. ...like ice cream that melts down onto your fingers no matter how many napkins you grab or how quickly you eat. ...like chlorine and sugar and red food coloring when it sounds like the bells and growl of a refrigerated truck. ...like gazpacho sipped from paper cups while you sit on a blanket on the lawn, waiting for the breeze to blow and the music to start. ...like iced coffee in the heat of the afternoon, as you sit with the shades drawn and the fans blowing. ...like salt spray when a wave tosses it in your face as you bend to fill a plastic bucket. ...like a garden grown tomato sliced onto a piece of bread with a smear of mayonnaise and a sprinkle of salt and basil. ...like a burger from the grill, with cheese melting into...

We sit facing each other. You keep telling me it's hot, but I have goosebumps on my arms. You have a knife so finely honed that I don't see it, don't feel it, not even when you've cut me, until suddenly I am bleeding on the lawn and the darkness is falling and you are gone. We play encore like it's a game. The man at the piano winks and urges us on until you return, your arms wide. It is beautiful but it doesn't matter. I am bloodless and breathless, and you never saw me at all. (I'm throwing this against the wall to see if it sticks. Don't worry it you don't like it. I probably won't like in the morning either.)

We've been having a pretty low key summer. I signed the boys up for one session of swim classes, which fizzled out when someone got a fever and someone else didn't want to go anymore (not that he could have gone when his brother had a fever anyway.)  And the rest of the time I've just been doing whatever occurs to me. So we went to a minor league baseball game and sat so close we needed a net to protect us from foul balls. We learned some new chores. We watched a movie at an Aunt's house. We've built a lot of things. We played in the sprinkler. We ate healthful snacks. And then there's this: Homemade Kettle Corn I could pretend its good for us, since it's whole grain and all, but I won't. It's delicious and doesn't need to be justified. You'll need a stove-top popcorn maker, or an electric version that stirs. Ingredients 1 Tablespoon unsalted butter 1 Tablespoon high heat oil such as sunflower 1/3 cup popcorn ke...