There's Beauty in the Bellow

Passing one of the local churches here in South Carolina, the signboard says "Is it safe to die?" I don't know--I never thought of whether death is "safe" or not. And also, will the Church ever reach a point where she can emphasize the resurrection, ascension, victory and reign of Christ over the passion and crucifixion? Of course, we can only speak of the humiliation of the Christ with such complacency because of His triumph. But we also need to work harder at realizing what His kingdom should look like and how we are to emulate it. My music professor tells us we should all be interested in singing because we are going to spend eternity singing and so why not start now? My grandfather is listening to various opera arias--Madame Butterfly and Figaro's pompous trilling incredible ode to himself in the Barber of Seville.

My chocolate molasses cookies. I took my Cook's Illustrated recipe for molasses cookies, substituted 1/2 cup of cocoa powder for 1/4 cup of flour and added chocolate chips. They were spectacular. Sunday: and we've gotten more snow since then. Now some pictures of Seattle from Thanksgiving break: In front of the Seattle Art Museum. The arm with the hammer goes up and down. I didn't like it very much: too Ayn Rand. In the ticketing area. There were a couple cars hanging from the ceiling in different positions of a frozen flip with tubes of lights inside bundled like star bursts. My friend pointed out the the car used was the same make and model as hers. Nice comforting thought. I love taking city pictures with all the layers of architecture. Brick and glass make my heart pitter patter. Found shattered auto glass in the parking lot outside school. It makes nice votives with tea lights and tea cups.

In the last year or two, I've taken up reading recipes for enjoyment. Recipes are short, light reading, not at all taxing to the intellect, and they can appease one's creative urges when there is no time to fulfill one's creative urges. At any rate, all this week, some insistent little region in my brain has been telegraphing me chocolate and molasses , chocolate and molasses , chocolate and molasses . Surely, this is a rather unusual marriage, thought I, and it might take some convincing with others, but I think, I really think, that those two rather strong personalities could work together. Not in equal proportions, but rather that biting into a molasses cookie with a chocolate note, or a chocolate cookie with a molasses note, the passerby would have to stop and ask What was that?! Lo, and behold, it appears from scrounging around the dregs of the internet that chocolate and molasses is a classic Dutch combination. Maybe that genetic .32% Dutchness somehow communicates t

From Ovid: the giant, Polyphemus of Homeric fame, tries to woo the recalcitrant Galatea: A forest of hair towers over my strong stern features and shades my magnificent shoulders. Don't think me ugly because my body's a bristling thicket of prickly hair. A tree is ugly without any foliage; so is a horse, if a mane doesn't cover his tawny neck; birds are bedecked in plumage, and sheep are clothed in their own wool. Men look well with a beard and a carpet of hair on their chests. Metamorphoses 13: 845-850

Winter is here, my computer is healthy again, and I can share some autumnal high points: Hokkaido squash soup with white pepper, peanut butter, red pepper flakes, and cumin. Sweet and spicy--so good, something inside me does triple axles, quadruple jumps (a la Tara Lipinski), triple salchows, back flips, twists, the whole shebang. The obliging squash: she was much more beautiful than the lighting reveals. Bell pepper soup: just some white wine vinegar, red pepper, chili powder, and salt. The peppers were sweet enough that no brown sugar was needed. (This spicy kick is totally new with me.) When there are so many types of trees, fascinating confetti combinations result. It's all gone now. My eggplant. I didn't know I could like eggplant. Notice the gold and burgundy galaxies in the skin. It's like seeing eternity in a grain of sand. Beautiful plums/pluots; they were scattered on the sidewalk like unpolished citrine, yellow opals or topaz, left out for trampling. It&#