Thankful Sunday--April 13, 2014

I am thankful for my blog friends.

It seems that one of the biggest surprises people have when they start a blog are the friendships they form. I am no different. I have made many blog friends who provide me daily with kind words, encouragement, and information. Thanks to all of you.

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Today's poem is Excelsior by Walt Whitman. What point do you think Whitman was trying to make in Excelsior? I'm still pondering.

 Excelsior
 by Walt Whitman

Who has gone farthest? for I would go farther,

And who has been just? for I would be the most just person of the earth,

And who most cautious? for I would be more cautious,

And who has been happiest? O I think it is I—I think no one was ever happier than I,

And who has lavish'd all? for I lavish constantly the best I have,

And who proudest? for I think I have reason to be the proudest son alive—for I am the son of the brawny and tall-topt city,

And who has been bold and true? for I would be the boldest and truest being of the universe,

And who benevolent? for I would show more benevolence than all the rest,

And who has receiv'd the love of the most friends? for I know what it is to receive the passionate love of many friends,

And who possesses a perfect and enamour'd body? for I do not believe any one possesses a more perfect or enamour'd body than mine,

And who thinks the amplest thoughts? for I would surround those thoughts,

And who has made hymns fit for the earth? for I am mad with devouring ecstasy to make joyous hymns for the whole earth.

Who has gone farthest? for I would go farther,
And who has been just? for I would be the most just person of the earth,
And who most cautious? for I would be more cautious,
And who has been happiest? O I think it is I—I think no one was ever happier than I,
And who has lavish'd all? for I lavish constantly the best I have,
And who proudest? for I think I have reason to be the proudest son alive—for I am the son of      the brawny and tall-topt city,
And who has been bold and true? for I would be the boldest and truest being of the universe,
And who benevolent? for I would show more benevolence than all the rest,
And who has receiv'd the love of the most friends? for I know what it is to receive the passionate      love of many friends,
And who possesses a perfect and enamour'd body? for I do not believe any one possesses a      more perfect or enamour'd body than mine,
And who thinks the amplest thoughts? for I would surround those thoughts,
And who has made hymns fit for the earth? for I am mad with devouring ecstasy to make joyous      hymns for the whole earth. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23621#sthash.GYLPkArX.dpuf

Who has gone farthest? for I would go farther,
And who has been just? for I would be the most just person of the earth,
And who most cautious? for I would be more cautious,
And who has been happiest? O I think it is I—I think no one was ever happier than I,
And who has lavish'd all? for I lavish constantly the best I have,
And who proudest? for I think I have reason to be the proudest son alive—for I am the son of      the brawny and tall-topt city,
And who has been bold and true? for I would be the boldest and truest being of the universe,
And who benevolent? for I would show more benevolence than all the rest,
And who has receiv'd the love of the most friends? for I know what it is to receive the passionate      love of many friends,
And who possesses a perfect and enamour'd body? for I do not believe any one possesses a      more perfect or enamour'd body than mine,
And who thinks the amplest thoughts? for I would surround those thoughts,
And who has made hymns fit for the earth? for I am mad with devouring ecstasy to make joyous      hymns for the whole earth. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23621#sthash.GYLPkArX.dpuf

Food Waste Friday and True Food Confessions--Apr. 11, 2014

It's time for Food Waste Friday, when the Frugalgirl encourages us to post pictures from the previous week of wasted food from our household. This accountability hopefully will help us to be more careful with our food and maybe save some money. Also, I am using this public forum to encourage us to eat out less which includes better meal planning. You can follow how we are doing in this endeavor by reading True Food Confessions. 

This Week's Food Waste

MILK!!!

We actually had spoiled milk this week. This is the first time I remember spoiled milk happening since I did a science fair project about it in high school. You see the carnivores of the family have always been big milk drinkers--several gallons a week. However, with two of the Carnivores buying their own now, I guess I have to adjust the amount of milk I buy even more.

 Note: more stories about milk coming soon.


This Week's True Food Confessions

Nothing exciting here on the eating front. We ate out for Wally's birthday and ate in with Subway sandwiches. We cooked a few other things at home, but we did not have lasagna. Which brings me to today's silly poem by Kenn Nesbitt.


When Larry Made Lasagna

When Larry made lasagna
all his neighbors stopped and stared.
His lasagna was the largest
that had ever been prepared.

He used ninety yards of pasta
and a half a ton of cheese,
and the sauce, he spread with spatulas
that looked a lot like skis.

With a hundred pounds of vegetables
and wagon-loads of meat
plus a tiny sprig of parsley
his lasagna was complete.

So he lifted that lasagna
with a forklift and a crane
and he placed it in an oven
that was longer than a train.

For a week, while it was baking,
its aroma filled the town,
till he took it from the oven
piping hot and golden brown.

All the neighbors came and tasted it
but frowned at him, and then
they complained, "It needs a bit more salt.
You'll have to start again."

A Second Look, April 9, 2014

I'm so excited because I found a new flower in my yard.  I think it's been there all along, but hidden. However, after we cleaned some brushy areas last year, the Siberian squill has revealed itself. That's why I do Second Looks--to find the unexpected little things among the predictable. And after doing this for three years, I am still finding them. :)

Here's what I saw this week during a Second Look.

If I have done my research right, this is a Siberian squill that still has to open. The snowdrops behind it have finished blooming.

The first daffodil bloomed this week.

Another kind of daffodil also opened. This one is in our compost pile.

New crocus are still blooming.

I found a couple of more bones. I'm not sure what they're from, but one of them looks like a scapula.

In between rains, we've been cleaning leaves out of beds. Now these bleeding hearts have a chance to get some sun.

Usually, the male and female cardinals are not on the feeder at the same time. This was one of the unusual times that they were.

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Today's poem, by William Wordsworth, is in honor of the first daffodil bloom.

The Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
   That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
   A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
   And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
   Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
   Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A Poet could not but be gay,
   In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
   In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
   Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15925#sthash.EsqoOj7j.dpuf

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden Daffodils;
Beside the Lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A Poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
   That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
   A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
   And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
   Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
   Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A Poet could not but be gay,
   In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
   In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
   Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15925#sthash.EsqoOj7j.dpuf

I wandered lonely as a cloud
   That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
   A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
   And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
   Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
   Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A Poet could not but be gay,
   In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
   In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
   Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15925#sthash.EsqoOj7j.dpuf

Thankful Sunday, April 6, 2014

I am thankful for time I spend with my family.

Yesterday was Wally's birthday, and we all gathered to celebrate at his place. Among other things, we enjoyed a hike at a local nature center. 

Here are a few pictures from our walk.

There wasn't much green in the woods yet, so this skunk cabbage really stood out.

These were the only wildflowers we saw.

We found a geocache box even without our GPS.

And we found some real tree huggers. :)

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In honor of Wally's birthday, today's poetry comes from Dr. Seuss's Happy Birthday to You! I've taken two different pages from the book and combined them below.

If we didn’t have birthdays, you wouldn’t be you.
If you’d never been born, well then what would you do?
If you’d never been born, well then what would you be?
You might be a fish! Or a toad in a tree!
You might be a doorknob! Or three baked potatoes!
You might be a bag full of hard green tomatoes.
Or worse than all that…Why, you might be a WASN’T!
A Wasn’t has no fun at all. No, he doesn’t.
A Wasn’t just isn’t. He just isn’t present.
But you…You ARE YOU! And, now isn’t that pleasant!
Today you are you! That is truer than true!
 
Today you are you! That is truer than true!
There is no one alive...who is you-er than you!
Shout loud, “I am lucky to be what I am!
Thank goodness I’m not just a clam or a ham.
Or a dusty old jar of sour gooseberry jam!
I am what I am!
That’s a great thing to be!
If I say so myself, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!” 

Food Waste Friday and True Food Confessions--Apr. 04, 2014

It's time for Food Waste Friday, when the Frugalgirl encourages us to post pictures from the previous week of wasted food from our household. This accountability hopefully will help us to be more careful with our food and maybe save some money. Also, I am using this public forum to encourage us to eat out less which includes better meal planning. You can follow how we are doing in this endeavor by reading True Food Confessions. (Thanks to Jo from Simply Being Mum for sponsoring FWF this week.)

This Week's Food Waste

Zer0

I saved shriveled potatoes this week by soaking them in cold water until they were plump enough to peel.  After they were cooked, they made some pretty good mashed potatoes. I also cooked a carrot that was starting to go bad. All I had to do for that save was cut a little of it off the top. However, there are several more carrots that are going to need that attention soon. I hope I am not reporting about them next week.

This Week's True Food Confessions

The Week of the Chicken

If I'm remembering it right, we had chicken every night for supper last week. It all started with a roast chicken from Costco ($4.99). We had chicken as a main meat, we had chicken in chicken fried rice, and chicken in a Shepard's pie. Another night we had Kung Pao chicken from Ward's favorite Chinese restaurant. Other times, like for lunch and snacks, we had leftovers from these chicken dishes.  It was all good.

Foodwise, it turned out to be a good week even though it was a somewhat stressful. That meant that more than once I didn't feel like I had the energy to cook. One of those nights was the night we had Chinese. The other nights were the ones when we had the chicken casserole-type dishes. The interesting thing was that, even though I didn't want to cook, it didn't feel like the heavy burden it usually does to me. I was still tired, but not incapacitated. Now if I can just figure out why and keep it up.

Until next time...
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Here's today's poem. Since it is a chicken theme today, I chose this one by Ogden Nash.

The Poultry

 Let's think of eggs.

They have no legs.

Chickens come from eggs,

But they have legs.

The plot thickens:

Eggs come from chickens

But have no legs under 'em.

What a conundurum!