Search

Food 4Thought

ramblings from a food writer & former professional chef

Ship Ahoy!

Tomorrow is the start of cruise ship season here in our little corner of the world. I can't help but be fascinated by these behemoths of the seas, mainly because our view lines up with their approach to the harbour,... Continue Reading →

Metamorphosis

Ruminations, post-Dx. Metamorphosis From weakness, sprang strength From insecurity, new confidence From rigidity, adaptiveness From agnosticism, faith From fear, resolve From cynicism, belief Belief in love Belief in life Belief in mindfulness Belief in myself Belief in good Emerging from... Continue Reading →

NaPoWriMo: Macbeth’s Soup

Today was one of those days in which nothing seemed to go right. Nothing major, mind you. Silly things like jeans not sitting comfortably, or being unable to find a particular pair of shoes, or banging my own knee off the side of the footrest on my wheelchair. All tiny, insignificant things, but things that drove me to “take to my bed”, like a Southern Belle who’s got the vapours or some such.

And so, because I was tired and needlessly cranky, I fell asleep and am now completely unfit to wow you with a new poem, and so here were are day 6 and it’s reruns already. But if I was not incapacitated, today would be one of those days I would enjoy making soup. I loved making soup, very basic, very comforting. Actually, today would probably be one of those days the soup wouldn’t work either, grumble grumble.

Ah well. As the Southernest of Belles said: “Tomorrow is another day!”

Food 4Thought

Bubble bubble
In which I interpret Shakespeare loosely, because I think all the twisted sisters were doing here was trying to decide what to make for supper.
Willy’s original handiwork is featured first, followed by my scribblings.

Macbeth
William Shakespeare
Act IV, Scene 1

A dark Cave. In the middle, a Caldron boiling. Thunder.
Enter the three Witches.

1 WITCH. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.
2 WITCH. Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin’d.
3 WITCH. Harpier cries:—’tis time! ’tis time!
1 WITCH. Round about the caldron go;

In the poison’d entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot!
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
2 WITCH. Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,

View original post 379 more words

Murmuration

hundreds, thousands, pairs of tiny wings separately beat, yet together they swoop, dive, soar, move as one, lifting my heart aloft my spirit soaring my faith restored my soul soothed once again, hope My friends, new and old, and ones... Continue Reading →

Weakday

like water draining from a tub, with no return muscle strength declines

The East Coast Fish & Chip Blues

I have often said how very lucky I am to have been embraced by a great crowd of Big Dog people on this coast, and after mentioning in my first NaPoWriMo post how the smell of vinegar could trigger fish... Continue Reading →

Sunset Promises

Here in the cove, we've witnessed many incredible sunsets, like the above picture. Tonight's sunset, below, was not particularly spectacular, unless maybe you see things a little differently. Sunset Promises Wind-whipped whitecaps turn blue water grey Rain menaced, no delivery... Continue Reading →

Kicking off National Poetry Month, and the loo.

Here we are, Dear Reader, the start of National Poetry Writing Month. A poem a day for 30 days, is the challenge. In previous years, I've stuck to writing about food only but this year, I'm going to include other... Continue Reading →

World Building

Remember when you were a kid, and had that one favourite thing to play with or do? Maybe it was a particular toy, like Hot Wheels cars ("dinkies"), or a doll, or Legos. Maybe it was a particular activity, like... Continue Reading →

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑