tragedy

cdn.newsday.com

Horrific violence. Lives lost. Limbs severed. Flesh punctured. Dreams shattered. And on it goes and goes and goes.

In the hours (and days) after a tragic event, we are inundated with reminders of the violent act. The same footage is shown again and again. I could likely mimic Bill Iffrig from Lake Stevens, WA as he stumbled and fell when hit by the percussion of the bomb blast while he ran the Boston marathon. But, I would rather put it out of my mind altogether.

I acknowledge and mourn the tragedy with exclamations of horror and even tears. Then, wrapping my mind around the event as best as I can, I compartmentalize it, tucking it away from of my stream of consciousness after surrounding it with healing, loving, positive thoughts.


A verse of a poem by friend, Kathleen Overby, says it well:

   I sequester myself in the garden, 

an antidote for the headlines

repeated over and over again --

as if only despair and destruction

could make the front page news.

Because life goes on and I choose to live in light and loveliness.

My sincere hope is that each living victim of the Boston marathon bombing will find a way to redeem this sad experience into something good - even if its simply recognizing the compassion and kindness and hope of the American people. 

luizberto.com

Pound cake with rhubarb compote

 So.... day 5 of 'acute' bronchitis and I'm climbing the walls out of boredom in between bouts of napping, coughing and wishing I had a new set of bronchial tubes.

Glancing through a magazine in the doctor's office yesterday I came upon this recipe.  (Yes, I'm one of those magazine page thieves. I can justify my actions.) Rhubarb delights me as does pound cake.

 

Today, the photo op of the baked product caught my eye. Subtle greys, delicate patterned china plate,  pink toned rhubarb compote. "Surely I can re-create this in water color", I mused. 

Before you form an opinion please allow me to explain that I am a water color novice with a capital "N". I know I cannot learn to paint without trying so I put on my brave girl panties and here is the finished product: 

Although it looks more like fried egg on toast with a huge splash of ketchup, I do like the fork and the plate has potential. Please notice the subtle shadowing. I'm quite proud of it. 

The next step involved replicating the dessert in real life. Lucky for me I had a few, ripe stalks of  rhubarb growing in the garden. It is as delicious as it looks.

Over thinker

I'm working on changing my habit of over thinking. It tires me.

No sooner had I posted this post when I came across this on Pinterest:  

'Nuf said.