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“Things Every Southern Woman Should Know How to Make”

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Alice clicked on the headline, mildly curious about what yet another stranger thought should be in her kitchen repertoire. Pictures of China plates mounded with crispy fried chicken, greens, cobbler, and a pile of biscuits a mile high flooded the screen, all set off with a pitcher of sweet tea beaded with condensation. The table was set; an apron draped off to the side next to a box labeled “Gramma’s Recipes” in fine calligraphy. She closed the browser and put away her tablet. She was born a Georgia peach, but she couldn’t make a cobbler to save her life. Did that mean she wasn’t southern? Or maybe just not “Southern.” For Alice, there was no recipe box full of family traditions. Her younger years were filled with rental homes in different states and her father’s voice coaxing her toward a text book rather than a cookbook. Metalworking and fabrication held more interest than learning to flambé or sauté. Did it make her less of a woman that her cooking skills consisted of fresh salads...
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Where I Gush About Bush’s Album, Sea of Memories

“You shine, the world stops, and gods are humbled.” That line right there, friends, melts me into a tingly mess of “Oh my God, that’s the best line ever!” It’s from the song, All Night Doctors , and even if the rest of the song was total crap (which it’s far from), I’d listen to it just to hear that line. Yeah, I’m a lyrics girl. While, in my opinion, this is the best lyric in the universe, it’s not the only reason I love this album. Bush brings together in Sea of Memories music that pulls at the core of me and beautiful lyrics that not only paint wonderful pictures in my head, but hit me in the emotional bull’s-eye. Gavin Rossdale’s voice, swoon-worthy as ever, turns it all into a concoction of inspiration that compels me to put fingers to keyboard. And anything that makes me write is gloriously badass.   My top three songs so far are All Night Doctors, The Sound of Winter, and Be Still My Love. There isn’t one that I just don’t like, and I’m sort of in love with...
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Poetry: Kitchen Knife

  Blood               runs across the light oak table    and   drips   garnet spheres                                                                      to the varnished floor.                                                             ...
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Casual Gamer: Initial Thoughts on Skyrim

I recently started Skyrim. (Yeah, I know, I'm behind. Don't judge!) I'm not too far into it, and I'm still getting used to the controls, but so far, I like it. What's my favorite thing? The crafting. I absolutely love the fact that I can tan the hides from animals I hunt and use the leather to make new armor and weapons. I also love that I can make jewelry at the forge as well.  I like playing with the alchemy table and mixing random things to see what I get. Everything I pick up in the world has a use, from the wild flowers along my path to the simple food items out of barrels and gardens. And nerd that I am, I like the books. Not just the ones that let me learn spells or boost my skills, but the ones that give me hints about the histories of the world, too. I'm carrying too many of them right now while I eek out enough of a living to buy a house to store them in. But I can't bear to part with them. I like the variety of weapons and how I can use a o...
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Poetry: Anticipation

Thunder rumbles, sends a tingle along nerves as the charcoal-smeared sky promises action. Blue-white voltage imprints the retina, veining the vision with darkness. I wait, body vibrating with every ominous peal, for my heartbeat to match the staccato rhythm of the lightning, for the trees to bend in the gale, bowing under its might like saplings, wind howling through the battered leaves like the sound of lost souls. I remember to breathe, the scent on the air sharp, fresh the rain is coming.
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Rambling of a Casual Gamer: Don't Make Me Throw Something

Ah, breaking the blog silence at last. Life likes to say, “Oh, you have a schedule? Let me fix that for you!” And then all my plans are dashed. But, here I am, and with a new game rant, to boot. I just finished a certain game that shall remain nameless. And I got a good dose of game rage for my 75+ hours of gameplay. Now, I know that not all games are going to have satisfying/happy endings, but this was just downright fit-inducing.   Because no matter what options I was given, the outcome was the same. Death. Bad guy laughing at me. I defeated him.   At the high level my characters had obtained, it was ridiculously simple. At the end, I was given a choice, but the outcome of that choice ended up being the same no matter what. And that’s where I get mad. I’ve become spoiled, I suppose, with other games where my choices count. So, maybe I make a bad choice and don’t get the best ending the first time. That’s okay. It gives the game replay value. Some allow me to...
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Poetry: Mental Gear Slip

he heard a pop felt the snap of overloaded synapses exploding timed detonations chemical combustions firing one       after      another along the borders of reason. composure cracks like glass; he senses his skin’s transparency. Everyone stares at the busted cogs slipping over missing teeth, fried circuits and sizzling wires underneath. everyone knows, everyone sees the ripple   shudder     wheeze in the engine of his sanity.
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The Content of YA Books and Maturity

There’s been some talk about the content of teen books lately. About the violence, sex, cursing and other content that some find unsuitable for their children. Some kids aren’t old enough to read these books. Some are. Twelve is a very transitional age. Some kids are more mature than others. And some of these books are probably really written for the older teens.     When I was twelve, I read a wide range of things. My mom bought me the classics in paperback, and my grandma had a selection of leather-bound books like THE COMPLETE WORKS OF SHAKESPEARE. I read everything from Hans Christian Anderson to Jack London to Jules Verne. I read more. DRACULA, many novels by Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Dean Koontz. My mother’s historical romance novels. (I learned the answers to Jeopardy! questions from some of those historical romance novels.)    The topics in these books weren’t new to me. Violence was in the news; death was on my bus route when a guy on a motorcycle...
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