Celebrate and Sing Yourself (like Walt Whitman in “Song of Myself”)

Donsie's rose

When I was a teacher, I gave my high school juniors an assignment to make a collection of poems in different categories as a part of an introduction to a poetry unit. Two of the ten poems were to be original, and the rest they were required to gather from books by other authors. The students had to thoughtfully comment on each of the poems, including the two they wrote themselves. One of those original poems had to be a poem that celebrates who they are. This was to be a spin-off of Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself.”

It got me to thinking about celebrating and singing myself, and how many of my family and friends have inspired me and guided me to look for, and feel, the positive in life. I learned from them that we should celebrate ourselves regardless of what is happening in our lives…sometimes in spite of what is happening. No matter what the circumstances, no matter how easy or difficult the experiences, it is all worthy of celebration. Life is just life and life is good! I celebrate myself and sing myself.

The tune of my very own song is a joyful one, full of laughter and mystery. The people in my life surround me with love and I face my challenges with competence and confidence. I’m secure in the knowledge that failure holds the promise of true and pure learning. Oh yes! Lots of that!

I have a big, round life. Just when I think it’s going nowhere, it circles around and makes a satisfying a tie-in to its previous self. This is not a life that is going in circles though; it is a life full of valuable, interesting and sometimes happy connections.

Mine is certainly a life worthy of celebration. And in addition to the inspiration from family and friends, I owe a lot of my energy for perseverance to nature. Those palm trees and other plants that, not only survived the hurricane five months ago, but are going strong, growing new branches and hanging in there, are great mentors telling us, “Don’t let life’s storms get you down.” Consequently, I think it wise to stand with my shoulders back and my head held high. Why not greet each day with a happy dance? Gloom is for cowards. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. It’s easy to let difficulties get us down. The heroes are the ones who say, “Okay, bring it on! I can handle this.”

My father-in-law is a perfect example of this. He has stage 4 colon cancer and the doctors tell him to get his life in order, eat and drink anything he wants, and enjoy what’s left—six months to a year. I can only imagine how overwhelming and sad it must have been to hear this, but he is taking it in stride. What a great guy, to be thinking of others, especially his dear wife, and making arrangements for the inevitable. He says, “Well, if it weren’t to be this, it would be something else. I’m 84 and have lived a good life, and I’ll keep on living as best I can till it’s over.” His “what will be, will be” attitude is inspiring to friends and family. Bravo, Dad. You demonstrate real grace. You are my hero.

Somewhere inside each of us is a place we can retreat, be still, and listen to our own hearts. Then we can muster the necessary tools to dance with whatever life presents. Celebrate and Sing Yourself. Oh, and it might help to hold each other’s hands. What do you think?

 

Here’s the beginning of Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself”

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
See the poem in its entirety at http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/174745

Baking a Red Velvet Cake in Baja

illustration

As it turns out, baking a Red Velvet Cake in Baja presents a challenge for

Susie Homemaker.

The recipe calls for two cups of cake flour. Can’t find any around here or in Todos Santos. What is cake flour anyway? How does it differ from regular flour? I go to the best cookbook ever, The Joy of Cooking, for the answer.

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Apparently, cake flour is made of soft wheats with less expansive gluten. It is not making me happy when I find out that the flour I have is in no way going to give me the results I’m after. But hey! You do what you can, so I followed the substitution directions to use one cup, minus 2 tablespoons of flour to equal one cup of the real thing.

There is no buttermilk to be found around here either. The substitution for this is to use milk and add vinegar to it. Okay, I’ve used this before with satisfactory results. It is clear I will not be working for perfection here. 3/4 cup of buttermilk coming up.

Oh no! The recipe calls for three tablespoons of Dutch processed cocoa and all I have is Hershey’s (that I brought from the USA). I’m three for three.

The rest of the ingredients are in my pantry or refrigerator, so I’m going to give this a go and make the best of it. It’s only a cake after all.

Ingredients:

3 medium beets

3/4 cup unsalted butter

juice of one lemon

2 tsp. of white vinegar

1-1/8 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1-3/4 cup sugar

3 eggs

Rather than using a bottle of red food coloring (yuck), I am using three medium beets. Yep! That’s what I said. I roasted the beets yesterday and after they cooled, I peeled them and put them in the refrigerator.

beet

Beats are tasty, but I never thought of putting them in a cake. They have a pretty earthy flavor. Wow! These guys (the beets) are super red. Deep purple—almost. This reminds me of a rock band from Great Britain back in the 70s. I can’t name any of their hits, but I remember the group—Deep Purple, and that they played hard rock.

I hope my cake isn’t hard as a rock.

This cake is a challenge for me here in Baja. I do not have all the key ingredients, or a food processor, and I don’t have any round cake pans (or any cake pans at all). I will be substituting square pans that aren’t even the same size as each other. And I’ll be using a blender instead of a food processor. Oh well.

I will call this a Deep Purple Substitute for a Red Velvet Cake. It is making me happy to merely “go with the flow” like this. It shows that I’m not a perfectionist, which, if you know me, is not news. I have been known to be picky about some things, but I am not seeking perfection in anything. In fact, the older I get the more I tolerate imperfection in my life. I like that saying, “It is what it is.”

Lest you start believing I am a Polly Anna, I want to set the record straight: I used to be a Polly Anna, but no more. I have seen what evil lurks in the hearts of men (and women), and I am a realist now, or as close to that as I can get. You might say I am a recovering Polly Anna.

Enough of that. Let’s whip up this (substitute) cake. First, wash your hands. Prepare the cake pans (or whatever you’re using) and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Blend (because remember, I don’t have a food processor either) the beets, buttermilk (my substitute), juice of a lemon, vanilla, and (two more teaspoons) vinegar. Set this aside.

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Sift the dry ingredients and the cocoa into another bowl. That means I’ll be using two ingredients in this part that are posing as the real things—reg. flour and Hershey’s cocoa. This also means there is yet another bowl to wash.

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Beat the butter and sugar together and add the eggs one at a time, scraping the bowl between each addition of egg. This part is my favorite because it comes out so creamy and pretty. I like the sound of the beater fluffing everything up.

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You start with a little of the dry ingredients in the mixer, then add a little of the beet mixture and lastly the fluffy part: eggs, butter and sugar. After alternating like this, adding a little of each, you end with the dry ingredients.

Once it is all mixed together, you pour half into each of your cake pans (my two square pans that aren’t the same size). I put parchment paper in the pans first and the cake will be easy to remove this way.

parchment in pans

 

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Lovingly place these into the preheated oven and bake for 20 + or – minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean. I had to bake mine for 30 minutes.

 

baked

These did not rise very well and the cake is spongy and dense, not crumbly, which is because I didn’t have cake flour I suppose. However, I am moving forward, letting the cake cool in the pans completely before frosting.

Cream cheese frosting is so decadent.

1/2 cup unsalted butter at room temp.

1 lb of cream cheese, also at room temp.

6 cups (I used 3) of powdered sugar (In Mexico they call it azucar glass.)

powdered sugar

1 1/2 tsp vanilla–here I am proud to say I have the real thing.

vanilla

Mexicans cook with real vainilla (Spanish spelling–pronounced vah ee nee’ ya) instead of that horrible bourbon vanilla from Costco I used when I lived in the States. Believe me, the difference is amazing.

After you cream the butter and cream cheese together, you add the vainilla and azucar glass. I used my mixer to do this and the icing is divine. Plenty of sugar even cut in half. Next time, however, I am going to use some lemon peel in it. I think it would be even better with the lemon flavor added.

 

frosted cake

 

My husband said that after all the trouble HE went through to get the powdered sugar (it isn’t easily found here), he wanted a piece of cake BEFORE dinner. Not a chance, Gregorio! You have to eat your dinner first: Shredded beef with horseradish sour cream, garlic mashers, cherry tomatoes, and picked beens and asparagus (thanks to our next door neighbor’s “Blaze’s pickled veggies.”) Not a tough thing for him to swallow, so he didn’t protest. I, however, do not eat meat, except fish, so I had left-over tequila lime sauce on fish, instead of beef. Yum. BTW, when you heat something with alcohol in it, you lose all the alcohol. Not to worry–I remain sober! (36 years in April)

*****

 

Here’s the cake with some pieces out of it. It’s pretty. It’s tasty, but I’m not as happy about it as I could be. It’s too dense (I relate) and I think it’s “the flour business,” plus the fact that I think I used too much of the blended beets. I was supposed to blend them first and measure out a cup. I didn’t do that. Shame on me. Because I just threw in all three medium beets with the rest of the liquid ingredients, I probably ended up with 2 cups of beets. That’s my guess. I also have a feeling that my baking powder is old. I bought it here in Mexico and it isn’t labeled with an expiration date that I can find.

cut cake

 

It’s definitely not the worst cake in the world, but it’s not the greatest one either. Will I make it again? Probably, but not for awhile. Maybe I’ll make one for Mom when I visit her in San Diego for her 99th birthday. She was born March 16, 1916. Wow! It will make a nice birthday cake with all the correct ingredients, and I’ll measure the beets next time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m just sayin’…

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  1. fugitive: fleeing, as one would flee from a dangerous situation, place, or from justice. But you can also be a fugitive from negative thinking; running away from bad thoughts. Right?

 

habits of thought

2. When you turn something over and over in your mind, like you (and I) do as we’re trying to fall asleep, it’s called ruminating. It also suggests images of cows. Like cows chewing their cud, we choose to chew our thoughts—over and over, and we can’t get to sleep. In that case maybe we should count cows instead of sheep.

 

cartoon ruminate

 

cow ruminating

 

 

3. purloin: to steal; I would use this word to explain that I purloined my friend’s play on words: “undivine intervention.” This phrase speaks to me and makes me laugh. Laughing is good for one’s health. And you may purloin the phrase, (UN)DIVINE INTERVENTION, from me now. (YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION, SO IT’S NOT PLAGIARISM.)

 

thief

 

 

4. rue: regret. I have many regrets, don’t you? I’ve heard you aren’t supposed to have regrets. What?!? How can one NOT have regrets? I suppose we could decide to take the lesson learned and run with it. Then we can appreciate what we said or did or thought and feel no remorse (another word for rue).

regret

    5. pedant: According to the dictionary, pedant is a person who lays unnecessary stress on minor or trivial points of learning, displaying a scholarship lacking in judgment or sense of proportion. In my opinion, teachers have to be careful not to be pedantic. I’m not mentioning any names here though.

 

pedant 2

 

 

6. love: It’s Valentine’s Day, so naturally I’m thinking about this. I love lots of people and things and places. Today it is my wish to remember to appreciate those people and things and places all the time. Even when they disappoint. Happy Valentine’s Day, Everybody! love copy

013

I love this person, place and thing!

El Pescadero–Where I Hang my Sombrero

 

 

 

Photo on 2-11-15 at 4.09 PM #2

Me in my sombrero.

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Beautiful sights around here. Morning, afternoon and night.

So many things to do and places to relax. (RELAXING IS MY JOB).

The day begins!

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The moon is still showing its face.

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We’re in the grey house on the right. So close to the Pacific Ocean! Yay!

Blaze, from Canada, lives in the orange house.

(He’s a great neighbor.)

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Afternoon ride in Little Red! Whoopee!

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Farmland, Desert, Ocean and San Pedrito Point

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…on the way to Los Cerritos!

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The waves at the point at Los Cerritos!

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Little Red can make us high!

P1150948We know how.

Jiggy Rock-Bottom Boogie

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****

Mr. Wind is dancing on my deck.

Tables and Chairs team up

and jiggy on over with

lanky legs to tap a racy rhythm.

Surprise! Chair does a pirouette

before it topples to the ground.

****

It cannot right itself. Poor Chair.

I’ll save you, Chair!

My hair joins the dance. It

lifts and twirls and slaps my

face. I shiver in my socks.

Wind whips, and Clouds swoop

****

They’re a traveling exhibition meant to

shock and squeeze a fancy fiesta for us.

Come on, Chair. Stand up!

There now. That’s better.

Señor Wind craves more movers

Leaves whip in–it’s a salsa recital!

****

Hair and Leaves and Chairs

and Tables and Wind choose

partners. Wait! Rain explodes

with its own jiggy rock-bottom

snazzy jazz. Thunder now,

and Lightning too. Get boogie!

****

Would somebody turn that music down?

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Baja Morning Moon

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Salty, sandy shore 

Ocean brings a liquid gift

Tumble, toss, and spray 

*

Moon at daybreak shines 

Sparkling on the water’s edge

Light through window glass

*

Catch one tiny beam

For dancing in its shadow

Won’t you come and play? 

Beauty in my Baja Life

 

 

 

And the earth’s holiness created a savory marinade for the lovers’ solitary winter dream.

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If a painter chose these colors to paint a sunset, would you believe in its realness? Go ahead…believe.

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Far from the usual and suspected is the place fused with sensual force.

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Allowing an impulse, a sweet whim to overtake us in moments of fancy is to live

fully formed, radiant and crystalline.

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Sing the song of today that has been carved from your pains and passions.

Embrace the welcoming reflections of the morning sun.

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Do not waste your days on the insignificant.

Take instead some Baja painted, silken sky and wrap yourself in today.

in full measure

FYI: Not to worry. The author (me) is not the speaker of this poem.

 

pineapple

 

Candied pineapple sits upon my tongue

sensory, sweet, bursting with joy

makes full my heart, and offers

your closeness, clarity, illumination

…my needs and desires revealed

 

marriage feast

 

 

You feed me candied treats

to coerce me into loving you,

conjured next a marriage feast

to force more sweets upon my tongue

…in full measured spoons

 

lunar eclipse

 

Lunar eclipse too soon, a proof

when in each other’s shadow

we cease to exist unto our selves,

lacking magic atop our stage

… on the surface of our moon

 

 

together

 

 

Relentless in our hope for unity

we listen and make love,

swing in a hammock of trust

swallow moments of preoccupation

…together, always together

 

chair

 

 

Wanting to touch and be touched

sensations turn in swirls of dust on

chairs that could not hold you,

and yet I see you sitting there

…darkly handsome with perfect posture

 broken

The rules bent and broken,

mostly warped from your deceit,

a sour candy melting on my tongue

nothing else will draw us closer

…no slight of hand, no trick or two

 

 

magic

 

 

 Naught is heard or felt or known

to stop the river of your betrayal,

I make instead a lone return

where summer dresses hang

…alongside winter coats

 

 

closet

You know how to–

love copy

A new mantra:

You know how to give and receive loads of love! You’re a kind-spirited individual with a heart of gold who stands up for what you believe in! You always find the good in every situation, even when things seem difficult. You let your heart guide you through life and are open to new, fun experiences! 


Wouldn’t it be the all-time best if this were true about you and me?

Looking for the good in every situation is not an easy task. That’s an understatement. Often it requires big dose of forgiveness. I’m slow to forgive. I admit it. I am getting better, no doubt, but I am still a diamond in the rough where forgiveness is concerned. I find it hard to forgive myself, let alone others. So this is another place for my energy to go. Focus on forgiveness and find the good in everything.

I’m going to tack this little paragraph up on my mirror to remind myself of these things. I like how its worded as if it were a done deal.

Maybe someday I can look at myself in the mirror and repeat the mantra and it will be 100% true.

I’m already pretty good at the “heart guiding” part. I’m going to work harder on the rest of it. How about you?

We know how to give and receive loads of

love copy

Yeah, that’s us!

Words, Words, Words or How English is Weird

huh

 

who knew?

i just knew it,

it’s news to me

i don’t know how i knew it,

it’s not new

are you new?

i knew it


i know

no, no, no you don’t know

the more you know

i know no time that you didn’t know

to know you is to love you, no?


the farther i go

the further away from you i am

tell me, how much farther is it?

we will go no further with this discussion

furthermore…

we will go no farther on this trip


you’re starting to bother me

your lousy attitude is making me crazy

it’s your turn to go

you’re the one who has to go

when you’re with me i wish your lips were on mine

you’re here with your hat in your hand


wait for it

put your weight into it

it’s my way or the highway

it’s way cool how the scale will weigh

when you weigh yourself

the way i see it

you weigh so little

wait, don’t tell your weight

no way

yes, weigh


come again

their town is that town over there

there is their town that they’re going to visit

there are more places

they’re going more places

their plan is to go more places

they’re going to that town over there to visit their friends

so there


who’s going to win the Seahawks game?

who’s in line?

whose line is it?

we found out who’s here and whose friends are here

who’s here and whose house is it?

whose owl is crying whooooo?

who’s on first?


the beat goes on

who likes the beet soup?

it beats me who likes beet soup

don’t beat up the cook who uses beets


i’m here now

can you hear me now?

i can hear you over here

but are you here?

here is where you’ll hear the best

English is weird

Wedding Dance

 wedding dance

 

We’re in our marriage ballroom,

A corsage upon my wrist,

White rose in your lapel.

#

We’ll boogie down the dance floor,

Hear the drum,

Feel the beat,

Shake it,

Rattle it,

And roll.

Trip the light fantastic, babe!

Hear the drum,

Feel the beat,

Jitterbug,

Swing,

And sway.

#

We’re in our marriage ballroom,

A corsage upon my wrist,

White rose in your lapel.

Phone Call from Long Ago

This piece is a vignette. It’s fiction and takes place when phones were connected to the wall and had rotary dials.  If you remember those old days, you remember my old days! You only “hear” one voice. Here’s hoping you enjoy a moment back in time.

 

phoneyellow phone

 

Phone Call from Long Ago

 

 

young girl on phone

Hi Carol.

What? Well, don’t ask me. I don’t know much of anything, unless you count the 20 words that I spelled correctly once in the fourth grade in Mrs. Myers’s class. Did you have her?

No? Well, she was a piece of work, I’ll tell ya. I think she was a vegetarian before there even were any vegetarians.  Poor Mrs. Myers probably never had a steak smothered in steak sauce.

What was it you wanted to know?

Are you for real? What came first?

That’s what you want to know, weirdo? Is it so important that you interrupt my perfectly wonderful Saturday afternoon, asking what came first, the chicken or the egg?

Yeah, I know you’re funny.

I don’t think true vegetarians eat eggs, so Mrs. Myers probably never had an egg in her life either.

It’s a shame. I agree. Deviled eggs, egg salad, poached eggs, scrambled with cheese—all so divine.

Quit asking me that. I’m fairly certain nobody knows the answer. You’re weird. Who cares? For your information, that’s actually what they call a rhetorical question. It’s only supposed to make you think. That’s what I think.

Mrs. Myers told us she wanted all of us to think. She didn’t tell us what to think either. I started thinking my dad is a creep (and it turns out I’m right). I’m actually pretty sure she wasn’t suggesting I should be thinking about my dad being a creep. But he is one. He picks the zits on his back at the breakfast table.

Yes, I’m serious. You’re right. He’s gross and disgusting. Like I said, he’s a creep.

Your dad is a creep too? I suppose we both have creeps for dads. We have a lot in common, ya know? Some dads are really cool though. Stephanie’s dad is really cool. She told me that in homeroom one day last week. He’s having a swimming pool built for her. That’s so cool.

My dad would never let us get a swimming pool. He says it’s too much trouble and then he told me I’m not worth the trouble.

That’s what he said. I’m dyin’ if I’m lyin’. And listen to this: just yesterday he said he forbids me to wear lipstick to school. He thinks I’m too young to wear make-up. What a creep.

No, I don’t have any idea why he thinks a 13 year old is too young.  That reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask you: what is your favorite lipstick color?

Really? Dramatic Red? Oh yeah, now that I think of it, you do look super good in red lipstick. I could never wear red lipstick. I absolutely love Dreamy Pink. It makes me look so pretty. It makes me look innocent too. I am innocent (until proven guilty).

That was a joke, stupid. You’re supposed to laugh.

Oh shoot! Sorry, but I have to get off the phone now because my dad (the creep) needs to call one of his stupid clients. He says I have to hang up now so he can use the phone. God, I wish we could have two phones like Stephanie’s family does.

He’s yelling at me again. Can you hear him?

Yeah, see what I mean? Shoot. I gotta go, okay?

Okay. I’ll call you later.

 

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