Saturday, May 28, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Dry heat of the arid vineyard, trellises of wooden green and leaves of paper cells, clusters of fruit dark as plums, a perfect clump of must. Months of watering and weeding and the grapes are firm with skins stretched tight, primed to be crushed; matured grapes frosted with perfect age and sunburned to consummate tinge. Peels split and cracked, the flesh of the fruit is pulp—fermenting juice. Glass jade thick and cork half stained, a richly printed label, golden cursive letters scrawl around the bottle, the darkness sloshes against the sides. Fragile stemware next to a corkscrew, cheese and crackers on the board. Tended, harvested, fermented, on the table ready to drink; wine is a picture of the Christian life, rich in symbology and a tangible reminder of Christ’s suffering and the glorious conquering of death and the bringing of the new creation to life.
this is, by the way, part of my rhetoric paper that I'm turning in tomorrow afternoon
Sunday, May 8, 2011
You've always been there for me; whether I needed a hug and encouraging smile, a reality check (cause, you know I never get carried away thinking...), someone to cry on the phone to, accountability (I've need it ever so much more this year as I have been away!), a shopping buddy (if only we could buy all our "inspiration" at Anthropologie...although, I think I'm kinda with Anne, I like having to figure out how to make it ourselves), or just a friend, you've been right there at my back telling me I can do it, praying for me, helping me through the trials and rejoicing with me in the triumphs. I know I can always count on you. Thank you, Mom!! I have learned so much from you and I so appreciate all that you've done in my life to make me who I have become. I can only hope to become more and more like you as I grow older. I love you so much.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
redo: yep, that's right. I wrote another declamation...whatcha think?
Cotton-candy air; my skin tingles as each hair prickles up my sunburnt arms; the chill of Coldstone refreshes. A collection of squeaking chairs are in the window filled with sticky faces and drips of already-enjoyed goodness. Crumpled napkins are on the floor and streaky fingerprints are on the door. Exuberant workers greet new guests with a song and continue scooping, mixing, scraping, serving.
Sweet-tooth cravings melt in my mind as idea posters and menu boards burst with delightful mixes and sugary sweet suggestions tempting my taste buds. Milkshakes, sundays, cones, frozen cakes or take-home-gallons. Any combination imaginable—I wait in line.
Buckets of multi-colored sherbet and velvety rich ice cream are arrayed beneath shiny silver-trimmed glass, miniature spoons for tasting the wild possibilities, a visorred smile behind a hand ready to scoop whatever I wish. Vanilla is too boring, Double Dunked Death By Chocolate couldn’t be sweeter, and White Raspberry Coconut Cheesecake just shouldn’t be an ice cream. Intense frosty green speckled mint, definitely the best. A rainbow of tantalizing jars of jellybeans and marshmallows and crushed cookies and salty nuts. Hand-dipped sprinkle waffle cone? or maybe a dish to share?
Two scoops of frozen gold, chunks of Ande’s mints and a ribbon of thick fudge worked in. A swirl of whipped cream to top it off.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011