Thankful Thursdays: A certain nonexistence

Today I am grateful that something doesn't exist.

I am grateful that this thing has never existed.

I am grateful that this thing will never, ever exist.

Today, I am grateful that God-- unlike fallible humanity, and particularly the female half of it-- does not have mood swings.

"I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also dwells secure. For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let your holy one see corruption. You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
-Psalm 16:7-11

Okay, for realsies.

Apparently, some people would like an actual birthday list (how demanding of them). So here you go. To quote Maria, "These are a few of my favorite things."

Poetry, like this or this.

Sugar, like this or this.

Stoneware, like this or this.

And a bit of bling, like this or this.

Now I want to go shopping. Oh dear.

Mellifluous Mondays: Sea Monster

"The Kraken" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Below the thunders of the upper deep;

Far far beneath in the abysmal sea,

His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep

The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee

About his shadowy sides; above him swell

Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;

And far away into the sickly light,

From many a wondrous grot and secret cell

Unnumber'd and enormous polypi

Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.

There hath he lain for ages, and will lie

Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,

Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;

Then once by man and angels to be seen,

In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

Kraken are mythological sea monsters, supposedly big and fierce enough to pull a man o' war to the bottom of the ocean. The legend seems to have begun in twelfth-century Norway and was probably based on real sightings of giant squid, or perhaps abnormally large octopi. Wherever Kraken came from, they're pretty sweet (and more than slightly terrifying). I like sea monsters.

Tennyson liked melancholy metaphors. I'm thinking that in this poem, the Kraken represents either man's subconscious fears and superstition, or the ugly truth about the world's evil nature. We drown it out but at the Last Judgment, where all things are revealed, it will come to light for everyone to see.

Tennyson was confused, like most Victorians . . . clinging to some Judeo-Christian framework, but doubting so much that his Christianity wasn't worth the name.

Picnic Food

Our church holds weekly picnics on our farm property, which is a great opportunity for fellowship with the other members. It's also really nice to invite guests along! Our property is beautiful and the weather has been perfect for picnics.

Anyway, each family brings a side dish and dessert, and here's what I brought this week: a simple cucumber salad with cukes out of our garden (I never peel them, and sometimes I omit the sugar or vinegar), and a very moist buttermilk berry cake made with wineberries and a pinch of nutmeg.

Filling the Bottomless Pit

Last night Jared and I made dinner for several friends, which is always a good time, especially since they were all hungry young men-- and as Hannah Stone would say, feeding hungry young men is my spiritual gift. :) At any rate, I take great pleasure in 1) making food and then 2) watching it disappear at an alarming pace. I like to think that I have contributed to filling the bottomless pit that is the stomach of the male populace.

While we're on the topic, my brothers (and my boyfriend) kind of remind me of this fellow:

Or this one:

Or this one: