Haiku Monday: New Beginnings + Florida Keys prize

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FLASH!!!!

Folks, do yoreself a big favor an go read Annie's "O Christmas Tree" post.
It is one of the best posts I'se read all year. It's a delight.

Also, a new story an' menu on Ether Capacious.

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Haiku Monday continues below:



* "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."
---------- Seneca

Thanky to Curmudgeon (whose sweet side we's all seen now, no hidin' behind gruff exterior fer him no more--we got his number doan we? ) Aunty's been given the first Haiku Monday theme fer 2012.
Welcome to all new comers--'tis a time fer new-ness, so please invite others to join us--an' those who already belong to this blogger circle, but doan Haiku, please take the plunge!! ( y'all jes' click the linked phrases to see easy tutorials on Haiku.)

Natcherly, it seemed fittin' to choose somethin' tied to New Year's resolution. Mebbe use yore Haiku to fill in the blank:

"My New Year's Resolution is found in this Haiku: _______________."

Onliest trouble wif' that is that Aunty still be workin' on her 1993 resolution. Now I doan "resolve:" I have dropped back to a more modest "aiming to" stance. Mayhap that describes y'all too. ( if not, doan tell me how virtuous ya' is--it might upset me some an' I'se only had one cup o' cawfee.)

Still, the New Year is a good time to hit our reset buttons. Hence, New Beginnings is our theme fer Monday Jan 2, 2012.

Aunty is charmed by the intent of Haiku: "Imagery[that] presents a "Zen snapshot" of the universe, setting aside logic and thought for a flash of intuitive insight."

High marks toward the winnin' Haiku is given to lines that offer us "a flash of intuitive insight." An' Aunty be partial to the standard Japanese structure that features a Kireji ("cutting" word) and kigo (seasonal reference), though it may be indirect.

Otherwise the simplest rules of haiku apply: based on seventeen syllables contained in three lines divided into 5-7-5.

Submit as many entries as you'd like, but identify the two that ya' want judged. Entries posted in this comment box by Monday at midnight PST are eligible. Visuals optional, but a delight! More, they serve as a tiebreaker--post visuals at your own blogs an' tell us "I'm up" here in the combox.

An' now....drum roll!!! trumpet blare!! --TA -DA!

Write some terrific Haiku an' ya could get free livin' in Key West fer two weeks!!

Beaches! Palm trees! Snorkeling! Conch fritters! Jimmy Buffet! Mojitos! Fishin'!

All this time ya' though writin' Haiku be a lark--but now it may pay off. Looky at this prize from the Robert Frost Poetry Contest! An' to top it wif' whipped cream an' a few nuts, iffin' ya win this Robert Frost contest ya' git to invite Aunty down an' take her to a Conch Fritter lunch!! Mebbe Troll will come too.

Aunty an' Uncle take this opportunity to wish one an' all a very Happy New Year! Wishin' ya' much mirth an' wunnerful new beginnings in 2012.


"So many fail because the don't get started-they don't go. They don't overcome inertia. They don't BEGIN!"
-----W Clement Stone

Unto us a Child is Born

Blogger Christmas Book is complete(Click)

He Knows When You've Been Sleeping

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* COME ADD YOU VERSES TO THE BOOK FOR BOXER & MOI! *

You CAN Survive 404 !!

Fer 12 hours or so yesterd'y, The Porches were floatin' in outer space somewhar--an'
I apologize to y'all that came to visit an' din't git yore glass o' lemonade.

But I survived the dreaded error 404!! Page Not Found. ( akshully worse--This Blog Was Removed) Whew!! Fer a moment thar' I thought Aunty wuz a goner.

Imagine, youse goin' about yore own sweet bidness, an' poof! All yore blogs become part of some cyber magician's disappearin' act. I howled, NOOOooooooo!

The universe isn't fair! How can this be? What are the rules? Where are the rules? Who rules??



Four years--4 years!!-- of material an' comments lost in outer limits of the cybersphere. I wuz sick. S I C K. ( insert photo of grown woman on floor in fetal position keening in high decibel) Ruint mah entire day--an' who has a day to forfeit wif' jes a week to go afore Christmas?

What I learned is how Blogger uses a spam-bot to scan fer false blogs, or blogs that violate the Terms of Service (TOS) agreement. I doan know iffin' these Porches wuz one or t'other--ya' git NO info from Blogger a'tall. I could not even git to mah dashboard cause the password to the blogs wuz shut off: "Access denied."



Read reams of Blogger Forum comments--scared the petticoats offa me--an' begged various gurus to please hep me--yeah, me an a zillion other poor souls floatin' in Blogger purgatory. No kiddin'--a 2001 Space Odyssey feelin' of the floating dead.

I wondered if ole Christopher Hitchens wuz jes' lettin' me know he made it an' wuz havin' a bit of fun....heh.

Jes' like they went, they came.

Came back. Came back in a poof! No rhyme nor reason. The Great Unexplained. The gurus say it warn't them that done it. I doan unnerstan', but this is now what I'se done:

At yore dashboard, in settings, click "export" blog--save it to your hard drive-- or export it to an asteroid shell ya create in another blog galaxy (yeah, I know, Wordpress is cumbersome, but jes' hold yore nose an' do it) whar it will SPIN quietly until ya" need to clone it to restore yore Blogger Blog. Jes' think of it as cryogenic insurance against the vagaries of a cold cruel cyberspace whar' innocent bloggers is sucked into the Death Star wif'out cause or notice. Thas' the cyber reality, folks.

Meanwhile, back at Warm an' Fuzzy Central, PLEASE come add a verse or two to the Christmas Book we's writin' fer Boxer an' Moi!! Come write a wee ditty 'bout two of our most funnest bloggers!

Christmas Books

Death of Christopher Hitchens on Back Porch

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It be 6 somethin' in the mornin' an' homemade muffins is a bakin' in the oven--healthy of course ( oatmeal, pear nectar, applesauce, ground flaxseed, safflower oil, natural sugar, nutmeg, walnuts). Uncle is still abed, the house be quiet as a mouse. I luvs 'dat.



The tree lights are on, so neighbors leavin' home at dawn-thirty will be cheered. I'se cheered--the trees is up, the mantles are draped in mixed greens an' pine cones... an' more or less, the house be decently cleaned. (my piles of books an papers locked in the one room whar' no one can ever go)


Camellias is a bloom, an the kumquat tree will yield its pixie fruit jes' in time to add some Florida flair to table on Christmas Eve.

The first cup o' cawfee is at mah elbow, an' I'll spend the next hour readin' the assigned story for The Book Club what meets today at our annual Christmas luncheon. I'se giddy as a kid, bustlin' around wrappin' their little gifts, thinkin' how odd we is--this very diverse gaggle of ole' geese who done managed to stick together through thick an' thin--an we's had some thin: cancer, lost husbands, lost professorships, lost political influence..but somehow what remains is the women underneath.

The Book Club is the longest runnin' one--I has two others--an' had we'uns known we'd be meetin' fer more'n 22 years we'd appointed us an historian. Afore computers, we had only our calendars to remind us of what we'uns read an when...in the days afore Amazon.com, when we wuz patrons of the library an' independent bookstores...or even raided our mama's shelves, an' combed used book emporiums fer oldie goldies. I ain't been in public library in over a decade (university libraries be an exception), but I does still git lightheaded wif' excitement when a trip to an ole bookshop is planned.

Over the years we's read an array of Christmas themed stories--not all are memorable. The past few years we's been workin' our way through Christmas Stories by the South's Best Writers.



Lemme own up to one thang, all Southern writers ain't equal. Peter Taylor is a "best" but Pat Conroy ain't made it past sentimental swill. Neither is in this volume. I does recall the memories of a young Truman Capote in another book.

Over the years The Book Club done read A Child's Christmas in Wales, The Very Best Christmas Pageant Ever, Mr. Ives Christmas, various Christmas themed cookbooks,
Christmas Angels, Ferrol Sam's The Christmas Gift....too many books to recall.

But the Christmas story that sticks in mah mind the most is by Taylor Caldwell. I'd read her Captains and Kings as a youngster, then waded through Prologue to Love. Long ago I kept her book, The Listener, on mah bedside table fer an entire year. I can highly recommend it.

But on the clan gatherin' fer Christmas Eve we always read a selection from our much thumbed, ragged anthology, Norman Rockwell's Christmas Book.



Thar's stories by Twain, Alcott, good ole Shakespeare an' Dickens, poetry by Frost, Ogden Nash an' Auden. Best of all, it contains Caldwell's "My Christmas Miracle." * We doan read it every year, but Aunty do...I slip off on an late afternoon afore Christmas an' read this story. It ain't gooey, but it gits to me. It sets me right even when I'se worriet that thangs ain't turnin' out right fer Christmas. Ya' might say it realigns mah perspective some.

An' it reminds me to acknowledge folks who has been kind to me durin' the year. This year, I has a pair of young men to send a "remembrance" to--both doctors who went long past "professional competence" durin' Granny's last few months. These men were heroic within' themselves, not as doctors, but as fellow human beings who could do somethin' better than wuz standard--an' they did so: cheerful souls wif' a genuine belief in the importance of the sanctity of every minute of life. These men were gifts to us--an unexpected miracle.



Does y'all have a favorite Christmas story or book? Please share yore mostest best wif' us'uns.



* A copy of Caldwell's story can be read here.

White Christmas in Florida

New Post on Ether Capacious





I be busy. Huffin', puffin'....know y'all is too. Clan Birthday an' assorted other parties this weekend. Deckin' Halls still movin' along...

Stockings are hung.....What? Ya doan think us ole folks still had stockings? Lemme tell ya' how far Uncle's lip pokes out iffin 'Santa shortchanges Uncle's stocking.

What ONE thang --that would fit in a stocking--would it delight ya to find on Christmas morning?

Pearl Harbor Day

Thanky, again, Daddy.


Folks, Pappy Cracker is* a Marine--he be one of the few survivin' Pearl Harbor vets--an' prolly the youngest---he ran away, joined the Marines at 15, survived the attack at Pearl Harbor as a 16 year old.

Please wish him an' all Vets well on this memorial day.


* Pappy read mah post--an' let me know in a jiffy that "wuz a Marine" is inaccurate, "Once a Marine, always a Marine," he wrote.

Yessir!

New Store in Town

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[olive oil station]


Facing the maddening crowds, Aunty waded into the Christmas fray (insert deep moanin' groan).

Mah tolerance threshold fer this sorta thang be low--very low. So, within the hour I give mahself whiplash jolting left into a parkin' lot:

"Whas' THIS?" I said to nobody in the passenger seat.

Jes' in time fer the crush, a new store done open in a neighborin' village. The Meat House. ( locations in other cities too)

Specializin' in local fare, all prime meats, all "organic" ever'thang. Meanin', prepare to open yore organic bankroll.


Top contenders:


(Eggy? La Diva? Hep me--what shall I do wif' this duck fat???)



What Aunty came home wif' is an artichoke an' cashew pesto--yep, it is eyes-rolled-back-in-yore-haid good.





An' some Jamaican Jerk steak strips--I served the quickly sauteed steak wif' grilled pineapple an red peppers over Basmati rice.

Fortification, ya' see, so that I can wade out again --ah, yes-- to do what din't get done in the first place, when I wheeled into The Meat House instead.

How's all y'all farin'? Hope youse better at takin' advice Granny give me--but I never seem to follow: Finish it all-A L L --a'fore Dec 15 so ya can have a few days to be Merry an' not frazzled.

See ya at Karl's fer Haiku Monday.