Virtual Scrapbooking

I'm having way too much fun making Treasuries on Etsy and Favorite Looks at ShopStyle. Basically it's like cutting out pictures from magazines and pinning them to your wall, or working simple puzzles. I use this sort of mindless creativity to discover what appeals to me visually and to get my mind off of things I can't do anything about. Hey, it's satisfying, it's pretty, and way more fun than Minesweeper.

My Latest Collages:
The Wisdom of Ratty and Moley

  

in the cool, cool of evening

silk and pearls and quicksand roses... satin softness on your skin

Cocktail Dresses by Herve Leger
Pumps by Christian Louboutin

Collage is an ages-old art form that my sister & I recently have become interested in. Creative websites, blogs and newsletters we've been enjoying that really get your imagination off to a great start include Everyday Beautiful, Country Living, kaboodle, and Cloth Paper Scissors. The whole point of this is to get our creative juices rolling along a path that will not only be personally satisfying, but hopefully productive. We'd like to know what people are interested in and doing in order to mesh the things we'll eventually produce with them. Playing with color, design, and assembly in a virtual palette folds into the little projects I've been designing at home. By experimenting on the web, I get a feel for what I like without getting sticky with the glue gun or having to sweep up paper cuttings when I'm done. Of course, that will all come - but I really feel like I'm moving more quickly toward the type of creative outlet I'll be most productive doing, without a lot of fits and starts, feeling my way in the dark at home.

The wonderful motivational writer Sarah ban Breathnach must be created with initially guiding me toward collage as a way to prime the pump and mine the depths of my creative thought processes. Her method of finding one's authentic inner voice by way of daily work with the "Illustrated Discovery Journal" is a very valuable technique not only for a personal creative outlet, but for focusing self-knowledge and understanding personal motivations and interests. I appreciate her whole-hearted abandon and since I don't want to make too much of a mess while merrily tossing ideas around, I've combined the physical form of journaling with virtual brainstorming, and have been very happy with the results.

Comfort Food

Chardin, Grace Before a Meal

Looks like more rain is heading this way; the view outside is dank and drippy.  True to form I want to head to the kitchen to put something together that tastes good, is easy to prepare, and brings a satisfied warmth to the bellies in my house.

Here are a few of our favorites.

Bubble & Squeak

`Now, cheer up, Toad,' she said, coaxingly, on entering, `and sit up and dry your eyes and be a sensible animal. And do try and eat a bit of dinner. See, I've brought you some of mine, hot from the oven!'    

It was bubble-and-squeak, between two plates, and its fragrance filled the narrow cell. ..and Toad, between his sobs, sniffed and reflected, and gradually began to think new and inspiring thoughts: of chivalry, and poetry, and deeds still to be done; of broad meadows, and cattle browsing in them, raked by sun and wind; of kitchen-gardens, and straight herb-borders, and warm snap-dragon beset by bees; and of the comforting clink of dishes set down on the table at Toad Hall...   

Bubble and Squeak has a somewhat negligible reputation amongst foodies, which must be due to the fact that traditionally it was made up of leftover mashed potatoes and old cabbage boiled down in a pot to muculent ignominy.  We've made our version of delectably seasoned Virginia pork sausage, fresh cabbage, and new potatoes.  Quite the rainy day fare!

Take half a head of fresh green cabbage, wash thoroughly, and slice into 1/2" thick sections, chopping these in half again, and set aside in a bowl into which you've poured about 1 c. ice-cold water.  Wash and cube about 4 medium russet potatoes, leaving skins on, into pieces 3/4" - 1" in diameter.  Brown 1 lb. local sausage (Valleydale, Weinberg's, Neese's are all good choices, depending upon where you live) in a large skillet until down, lift out and let drain; pour off most of the sausage grease from pan, leaving crisp drippings.  Place the cubed potatoes in the skillet with 1 tbsp. unsalted butter and 1/4 c. water, cover and cook over medium low heat 15 minutes.  Add sausage and cabbage, layering over potatoes, cover again and steam about 10 more minutes just until cabbage is lightly done.  With spatula, lift and turn over the mixture to blend, cover tightly and remove from heat and let sit about 10 more minutes.  Serve with piping hot biscuits and butter or cornbread.  So good.


Shrimp & Grits
Nathalie Dupree, Charleston chef and former SC Senatorial candidate, has written an entire cookbook on this delectable concoction.  Being from Virginia, I'd never heard of it until I moved to South Carolina.  After my first bite I honestly wondered how I'd actually lived up to that point.  Never fails to lift my spirits, no matter how bummed I may be or how difficult the day has been.  Pure heaven defined in a china bowl.  Serve with green salad and hot tea.

Cook grits according to package directions using milk instead of water for a creamy consistency (Generally, measure 1-1/4 c. grits to about 4 c. milk, heat slowly on medium-low heat, add 1 tbsp. butter and 1 tsp. salt, stirring often until mixture is thoroughly cooked and thickened but not lumpy.  Keep covered.  Takes about 20-25 minutes). 
While grits are cooking, brown 3 - 4 slices fresh bacon on both sides, remove, drain, crumble, set aside, reserving pan drippings.  Add a bit of olive oil if necessary to make about 1/3 c. total in pan.  Wash, peel, de-vein about 1-1/4 lb. fresh medium-sized shrimp and remove tails.  Place shrimp in pan on medium heat, turning quickly but gently with spatula as the shrimp heat thoroughly, and as they are finishing, replace crumbled bacon in pan and lower heat.  Add a splash of white wine or apple juice, 1 tbsp fresh chives, 1 clove fresh minced garlic, fresh ground black pepper, dash tabasco or other flavorful hot pepper sauce to taste.  Cover and remove from heat, let this mixture sit for about 3-5 minutes so that the flavors continue to meld.  Serve up grits in large round cream soup dish with shrimp mixture ladled over the top.  Serves 4-5 admirably.


Bean & Bacon Soup

A childhood favorite.  Great with a grilled cheese sandwich and a nice dill pickle or two.  Using freshly dried herbs gives this a monumental flavor that will bring them back for second helpings every time.

1 lb. pkg. Navy or Great Northern Beans, washed & drained
1/2 lb. smoky sliced bacon strips, cooked according to package
2-3 medium carrots, peeled & chopped
1 small white or yellow onion, minced and cooked in bacon drippings until clear, drain and set aside
1 8 oz. can tomato paste
6-8 c. water
2 cloves garlic, peeled & minced
1/2 tsp ground sage
1/2 tsp ground thyme
1 tsp snipped rosemary
dash turmeric, ground black pepper, salt to taste

Cook beans according to package directions in large soup pot or dutch oven until tender.  Add cooked bacon, crumbled, along with about 2 tbsp pan drippings from bacon, and mix thoroughly to distribute.  Add carrots, cooked onion, tomato paste, water to desired consistency, and seasonings.  Cover and cook thoroughly on medium-low heat for about an hour.  Serves 10-12.

Absurdity and Forgiveness

About this time yesterday I was in the middle of making a pretty big mistake in full view of the whole world - which is easy to do on the internet.  My counselor told me this morning that in the last 5 years she has noticed how often it happens that words that once would have been exchanged between two people in a relatively private setting - a bar, perhaps, or a hallway in passing, even in the privacy of one's own home - now end up posted on Facebook.  "It's so quick, to write your reaction, and we do it without thinking.  Then we have to live with the results." 

Another way what appears to bring us closer, in an instant can zoom us far, far away.

Here's the obvious thing that I had to (re)learn publicly:

DON'T HIT 'ENTER' WHEN YOU'RE ANGRY.

Even in the rare case that you may actually be right (I wasn't) - it still is the wrong thing to do.  Airing it publicly, even semi-publicly on friends-only posts, still includes people that really didn't want to see that.  We don't go on the internet to be unwitting witness to ugly words about people we care about.  If I had kept my thoughts to a few private emails, even, instead of a couple of very-succinctly-worded Zzzzzlams! - well, I wouldn't have had to eat crow for dinner last night.  And had to get up and look at the leftovers again this morning.  And cringe all over again at the memory of hurting someone I care deeply about, and try to believe that "I made a mistake, everyone makes mistakes, it's not worth beating yourself up over it..."

I am not an existentialist, but they did get one thing right.  Even deleting the whole post and anything afterwards that stemmed from it isn't going to make it go away.  Once it's on the internet, it's history.  Literally.  It's out there.  Damage done.  Now we live with it.

It's worse than just saying ugly words in the privacy of your own home.  It's like buying billboard space and painting it across the highways.  Everyone can see it, and be witness, judge, and jury to your idiotic moment.

So now I'm reading and re-reading a quote from a small framed picture that my mother gave to my father a long time ago, and trying to apply those wise words of Emerson to the absurdity of this particular situation.  Because even though I've apologized profusely and received forgiveness for yesterday's blunders, it is difficult to believe that it won't contribute further to an already tenuous and difficult communication problem that I've been having with the individual who graciously forgave me.  While I was writing words of fire, he was actually being a saint and helping people in need.  He was applying the rule, "Do unto others..."  He was being the better person, doing good in the world.

None of us is perfect, we all are human.  And normally I believe and live by these words:  Everyone is doing his best he can at the time. It is a reminder to have patience, and do not judge.  Why I forgot and felt justified in slamming home some long-ago, worn-out, used-up resentment that should have been thrown out with the trash years ago, is not an excuse.  I shouldn't have done it, and I am so, so sorry.

I don't yet forgive myself; I knew better and under normal circumstances would never have done it - except when I've been having a bad day, like I was yesterday.  I was sick in bed, and the plumbing in the house had developed a problem overnight and I was having to wait for that to be taken care of.  Being ill and unable to take care of what needed doing left me feeling vulnerable and on edge.  So I did what other people do when they're sick:  I got on the internet, hoping for something distracting to take my mind off of it.

You know where this is going.  Without going into detail, the first few words I read on my news page jumped at me completely out of context.  I mis-read, assumed I knew what was going on, and further mis-applied them, and felt totally justified in responding with what at the time seemed a high amount of calm and deliberate action.  Inside I was seething over a jumble of things, partially to do with the situation at hand but mostly chafing at feeling helpless and unable to do anything but wait and see when the person in question would next communicate (he'd been rather too busy lately to talk much).  I didn't want to wait; I wanted attention.

I hate the attention that resulted from that screw-up.  I hate that even if I'd been right, that people saw what I wrote.  That wasn't necessary.  Most of all, I hate that the person to whom it was delivered was bewildered and probably hurt, although he was too much of a gentleman to show it.  In the past this sort of thing would have happened behind closed doors and been completely ironed out between the two of us, but since he wasn't and hasn't been around and I was denied that opportunity, I let it out in front of co-workers, friends, and family.  How inappropriate.  How childish.  How mean and rotten and gross.

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day, you shall begin it well and serenely...” --Ralph Waldo Emerson

Deep breath.  Read, and repeat.

Here's another thing:  it doesn't hurt to read and see what advice the Universe sends out first thing in the morning.  This is what it was for me today:

http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/motdujour/2011/04/heurter.html

And immediately my mind responded, "Hier j'ai heurté la réalité. Aujourd'hui j'ai réalisé que la réalité était tous dans mon esprit."  Yesterday I crashed head on into reality.  Today I realized that reality was all in my head.


I had to share this with my counselor on the phone this morning (she's so awesome she called me when I was too sick to make the appointment!), and I tried to explain it using an analogy so she could understand how to help me, and why I was so upset.  

See, there was this movie, starring George Peppard and Ursula Andress, with James Mason.  Epic pilot movie - The Blue Max.  In it Peppard plays a military pilot - say that three times fast without tripping over your tongue if you can!  Andress plays his lover, Mason plays a superior officer.  Andress's character reveals to Mason's that the pilot has cheated on something, I forget what, in order to win the country's highest honor and to be named The Blue Max, because she was piqued over his jilting her.  She is spoiled, and manipulative, and she thinks he will just have to lose this award and she will have vengeance.  But it's worse than that.  As a result of this news the superior officer decides to let him die, rather than to let it come out that the Pilot must be stripped of this honor, and therefore embarrass the whole country.  He sends Peppard's character out to test a new plane, that he knows is unsafe, and with tears pouring down her cheeks she has to listen to the engine stall, and the resulting whine and screams as the plane crashes into the earth.  "And all because of your stupid little anger!" Mason yells at her.   


I hear those words at times like these.  Sometimes anger really is pretty stupid.  Sometimes we see ourselves entirely too easily in the weaknesses of others.  Sometimes we are our own worst enemy.


I have a constant struggle between knowing what is real and knowing what really isn't.  This has bitten me in the past, and it's going to continue to bite me as long as I react out of past hurts, without waiting to be certain of having all of the facts.  So this will be part of my homework, along with not beating myself up over things I can't change, even if they're my fault.  As my counselor said, "No one died from it.  You learned something, and it is getting better."

She reminded me about H.A.L.T. - We shouldn't give in to Action when we are Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired.  I was at least 2 of those yesterday, and possibly 3.  No matter how it looks, it's just not a good idea.

Yeah, I know.

I also have to put this completely in God's hands, because until I learn these lessons, my own are not to be trusted.

Book Review: Trapped in the Mirror, by Elan Golomb, PhD

Trapped in the Mirror by Elan Golomb

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

An excellent treatise on the influence of narcissistic individuals in those for whom abuse and negativity feels more like normal behavior than dysfunction. The author is a well-educated clinical psychologist who herself is the child of two narcissistic parents.

Adeptly weaving her experiences with those of her friends, patients, and other individuals, she helps us to recognize the thought patterns and unintentional, automatic reactions to challenges that everyone faces, but with which adult children can struggle against depression, bulimia, fear, suicidal thoughts, and psychosis. The writer's style dips in and out of clinical assessment, stream-of-consciousness, and rational analysis, proving over and over again that there are many ways to deal confidently and successfully with people who try to control our thoughts and emotions, and because it presents this multi-faceted picture, is not only helpful, but interesting and engaging to read.

I recommend this highly for anyone dealing with unfortunate life patterns triggered by inability to recognize the influence of narcissistic individuals at work, at home, or in relationships.

View all my reviews

Comfort on a Rainy Evening

It may be cold and wet outside, but one way to warm up is with a spot o' tea and these amazing muffins.  If the name doesn't bring a smile to your face, wait 'til their spicy goodness melts on your tongue.  Enjoy them guilt-free 'cause there's nothing but goodness inside!

Yield:  18, and they freeze well.

Sunshine Muffins


2 eggs
3/4 c. vegetable oil
1/3 c. milk
1 tbsp. plain yogurt
2 tsp. vanilla
2 tbsp. molasses
2 c. unbleached all-purpose flour
1 c. organic cane sugar

2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground cardamom
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1 1/2 c. shredded carrots (2-3 medium)
1 c. shredded apple (Rome or McIntosh are best - use 1 large or 2 small.  Alternately use 1 red and 1 Granny Smith apple for a nice alteration.)
1/2 c. shredded or flaked coconut
1/2 c. raisins, dried currants, or other dried fruit of your choice
1/3 c. sunflower seeds

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees F.  Place paper baking cups in 18 regular sized muffin cups, or alternately grease with shortening or cooking spray.
In large bowl, beat together eggs, oil, milk, yogurt, molasses, and vanilla with wire whisk until well blended.  Sift together flour, baking soda, salt; add to mixture and blend.  Add sugar and all spices, stir together with wooden spoon until just blended.  Set aside.

Grate carrots and apple, mix in separate bowl with coconut, dried fruit and sunflower seeds.  Add fruit & nut mixture to large bowl and blend all ingredients well until combined.

Spoon by 1/4-cup measure into muffin cups.  Bake @ 350 for 20 - 22 minutes.  Serve hot with butter, honey, or molasses and a nice pot of Chai tea.


Adapted from "Glorious Morning Muffins" courtesy Gold Medal Flour.

Warm and Savory

No matter how you spend the months of winter, curled up by a warm fire with a book or engaged in brisk outside activities, it's hard to beat the universal appeal of homemade soup.  It's easy and so satisfying.  Feel free to experiment with whatever ingredients you have on hand; there are no hard and fast rules for soup and it's one of the best ways to use up leftover vegetables, rice, pasta, and roasted meats.

Winter Bean Soup
3 c. cold water
1 16-oz. package dried white beans or navy beans
1 med. butternut squash, peeled and diced into 1" chunks
1 onion, peeled & diced
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 tbsp. butter
3 1/2 cups chicken broth plus the meat from a roasted chicken
    (boil carcass to remove the bones from the meat, skim the fat)
1/2 tsp dried thyme leaves
1/2 tsp dried basil leaves
1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt to taste

Put water and beans into a dutch oven or crock pot, heat to boiling, then turn off and let sit for an hour.  Turn heat back up and cook beans until soft, adding water as needed to ensure beans do not dry out.  Add onion, garlic, butternut squash, chicken broth and chicken, cook on medium for a couple of hours.  When vegetables are soft and soup is of a good consistency, add herbs, salt and pepper, and simmer on low for another hour or so.  Serve with hearty bread and cheese or cornmeal muffins.


Soupe a la Reine
Never a fan of turnips, I was in a weird mood when I decided to try this... Said to be the favorite of Marie Antoinette, this recipe is adapted from one used in the artist Claude Monet's kitchen at Giverny, and two other 19th century recipes which mentioned the use of almonds in the broth.  It is positively decadently delicious, and should be placed right up there among the necessary indulgences with brie, ripe strawberries, and darkest, richest chocolate.

1 1/2 lbs. fresh turnips, washed, trimmed, and sliced
1/2 stick (4 tbsp.) unsalted butter
1 cup whole milk
1 cup sour cream (or substitute additional 1 c. whole milk, 1 tbsp butter, and 1/4 c. potato flakes)
1/2 cup almond milk (do not substitute soy milk, but skim milk or a bit of chicken broth would work)
1 tbsp. unbleached flour
Sea salt and pepper to taste

Cook turnips on medium heat in as little water as possible (no more than 3 to 4 cups but enough so that the turnips do not stick or scorch) until soft enough to mash with a fork.  Puree the turnips (or mash completely), add butter and continue heating on medium-low heat until butter is melted through the mixture.  Add milk and cream, stirring slowly until thickened slightly; small bubbles may appear at edge of pot, but do not boil.  Add flour to almond milk, salt, and pepper, whisk until completely dissolved, and add to soup mixture.  Heat thoroughly on low simmer.  Serve hot with table water crackers, tea, and fruit.

Staying Connected

Justine Musk, a novelist who blogs about the creative process, wrote this very helpful article recently about developing your creative process. When I find the words difficult to write, even thoughts difficult to form, images and music often get me going again, if I'll take the time to tap into them.

Then there are the times when I've creative thoughts aplenty, but no time to set them down. Sometimes I leave myself little notes, or record a memo in my cell phone in an attempt at capturing the impetus while it's fresh, hopefully to preserve it so that it may be applied later. Sometimes this works, other times the fragments mystify me.

Winter is a time when activity slows, when thoughts range over our personal histories, experiences, and we often feel compelled to examine wants and needs. Often these produce something wonderful which presses through the outlet of our mind onto paper or screen. When we capture something whole from within ourselves and share it with the world it is a re-affirmation of the whole experience of living, a reconnection of the mundane with the divine spice of creativity itself.

Enter your inner world with a candle lit against the dark, humming a tune you love, and watch the shadows lift as the prisms catch the beautiful wonder of your own mind. Be at peace, reflect, teach your soul to dance.

A Taste of Things to Come

No words. What do you say to this?

Tell you what. SAY nothing. DO SOMETHING.

JOIN an organization whose mission is to keep farming REAL.

BUY 5 pounds worth of UnCheese

SPREAD THE WORD. GO.

SUPPORT Real Agriculture. It's only your health at stake.

Thought for Today

A friend is someone who sees through you and still enjoys the view

~ Wilma Askinas

Take a look: Link to interview with Phoebe Dorin, who talks about her off-screen relationship with Michael Dunn. Had no idea of the interesting history and friendship between these two semi-famous partners in crime. Made me think; you will too.

21 Things I Learned from Lorelai Gilmore

1. There are very few pains that cannot be cured with a liberal application of Rocky Road ice cream, eyeliner, and martinis.
2. You can run from your troubles, but eventually you’ll run back. Otherwise you’ll never get over them.
3. Laughter is the best medicine.
4. Real love never ends.
5. Good things only get better. Sometimes this happens when you’re not looking.
6. Celebrate birthdays, weddings, and the life of your neighbor’s cat with the same warmth and enthusiasm.
7. The first snowfall of the season is a living, breathing, sacred thing. No matter when it happens, go outside and greet it with effusive joy.
8. Your first duty is to your children. Everything else can wait.
9. Even weirdo freaks have souls.
10. Coffee is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. Beer runs a close second. Sorry, Ben.
11. Say you’re sorry as soon as you can, and mean it.
12. Wait. Time heals all wounds.
13. Show up. Look smashing.
14. Be yourself. No one else can pull it off.
15. Appreciate everyone, including obnoxious picky French men, gossipy busybodies, aging drama queens, control freaks with bad toupees, and grouchy hermits. If nothing else they keep life interesting and amusing, and sometimes they are exactly the right person for something very special.
16. Never underestimate the inexpressible importance of the perfect shoes, scarves, and handbags. Also, Hello Kitty. Pink sweaters with ruffles and flowers. Black mini skirts. Tulle. Skinny jeans. And pearls.
17. Movie nights are for eating, philosophy and social commentary. In that order.
18. Your first love will always be special. Your first real love even more so.
19. There are a lot of amazing female role models. After you’ve followed their example for awhile, be one.
20. Take others much more seriously than you take yourself.
21. Read. Often, or not. There’s a lot to be learned from books. But if you don’t read, surround yourself with people who do. Some of that wisdom will rub off.

Humility and a Secure Future

Reading "God Never Blinks." Regina Brett has so much to offer to a world down on its luck, seemingly running out of time, with so much to worry about. With plans scattered like so many specks of dust to places invisible, it's much too easy to forget our basis for faith, and how to reach out and hold on to what has kept us going in the past. Taking one more step forward sometimes feels too damned hard, and hardly worth it. After all, why wake up to one more day of struggle? Isn't it better to just roll over and hit the snooze button? "Forget about life for awhile"?

Why yes, actually. Sometimes that's exactly what we should do.



Life of Agony reminds us exactly what it's like to be worn out and in dire need of escape, maybe with a bit more of an edge than Billy Joel did, but the message is the same. Sometimes we do need to just get it all out in order to forget how bad it all is. And that's okay. But after that, there's something else that's the spiritual and emotional equivalent of clearing the air so we can breathe again.

It's called forgiveness.

Ms. Brett has a bumper sticker that says, "God Bless the Whole World. No Exceptions." She goes on to tell us "Forgive Everybody Everything." I can vouch for the goodness in that. There is nothing anyone's done to me that's worth the spiritual and emotional turmoil of holding a grudge. Nobody's worth eating up my liver over. Nobody gets to be that powerful over me and my life, and as far as I know, nobody really wants to be.

This is not to say nobody's mistreated me. Far from it. Like a lot of people, I'm one of the "walking wounded." But you know what? That just means I've learned a few things. It doesn't mean anyone owes me anything. That honor belongs to - you guessed it - just me.

For about five minutes, it does me good to get angry and rant and spout out all the venom and bile that some peoples' actions incite. But after that, it's good to just put all that away and move on, looking around to see the good things that are still surrounding my world and reminding me that it's never too late to put down that burden and step forward into the light. In fact, if I don't, it's just going to get heavier and heavier the longer I forget to do so.

"Forgiveness is giving up all hope of a better past. At first that sounds harsh, but once you let go of what you wanted the past to be, you can start changing the present and create a better future," Ms. Brett writes in Lesson 28. Well, duh. Why didn't I figure that out already? Sometimes we need people to point out the obvious, so we can clear the smudges from our eyes and actually see what we're looking at. You can't move beyond something, or stop being a victim, until you stop calling yourself a loser, and take back your own power over situations. Forgive, and then forget. Choose life, and remove yourself from that pain. Put it down. Let it go.

Here's a gem of real value, and I'm putting it here where I'll remember to come back and read it from time to time:

Humility is perpetual quietness of heart.
It is to have no trouble.
It is never to be fretted or vexed, irritable or sore; to wonder at nothing that is done to me, to feel nothing done against me.
It is to be at rest when nobody praises me, and when I am blamed or despised, it is to have a blessed home in myself where I can go in and shut the door and kneel to my Father in secret and be at peace, as in a deep sea of calmness, when all around and about is seeming trouble.
--Dr. Bob, co-founder of AA and the Twelve-Step Program

Well then. Today is my lucky day. Yours, too! Go out there and forgive somebody. And then treat yourself to a big slice of that pie called Life. There's very little you can do that will more strongly ensure control of your own destiny. And what's more secure than that?

Traveling Light

I find myself sick of traveling, frankly. All I want to do now is curl up with a book, stare outside, look at the window, ponder a bit. Listen to loved ones, think about what they've said, listen some more. This is a major change from past propensities, which was to pick up and go at the merest wisp of a suggestion. Travel meant going beyond the place that I was, seeing new things as much as re-connecting with old ones.

Reading this piece at Salon brought this home recently. This is a wonderful article, well-crafted and superbly worded, the author has the grasp of language that slips into your mind easily. The second-person point of view is difficult to do well, but she does it with single-minded aplomb, leaving no question of her genius. It is taken from a larger work, Stranger Things Happen: Stories, and when I saw this I stopped reading long enough to add to my "To Read" list at Goodreads. It was that good. She was speaking to me, I was sure, or at least someone who had shared my experiences - we were kindred and I followed her down the rabbit-hole with faith that was quite blind. I was expecting a swirling, satisfying finish, where all is right in the end.

Silly me.

As I wrote to my sister when I sent her the article, dear Ms. Link had it right at the outset, she took you along a steep, winding and bloody difficult path, but surely she stopped just short of where the journey really reached its final destination. She knows the fairy-tale path so well! How could she have missed the whole point?

Read the article, mind you, before you travel further, or you're not going to believe me. You'll think I'm making this all up. And read this interview with Kelly Link by Laura Miller, Romance and Other Myths, which is right as rain throughout except for those needling little thrusts both of them make at the insanity that is "true love." Ms. Link and I share some similarities, we have both lived a "peripatetic life," but for pity's sake at some point we all have to settle down sometime. Maybe it's just the propensity of some people to joust at windmills, but it would be a sad world indeed for those of us who crave the warmth of quiet home fires to think that all this patient belief in love is all for naught. Phooey. Inside a voice whispers, "She missed the point."

Yet I still want to read her work, if only just for the repeated satisfaction of re-discovering that this belief in love is really just belief in myself. She's right, of course - the too-hard, misbegotten journey where you press on until your feet are cut to ribbons from all the miss-steps you've made is a bit much. When you get to the end of that trial how do you even know you're there? You're too busy picking glass out of your feet and re-applying eyeliner, wetting your lips, rehearsing what you're going to say so he doesn't get the wrong idea, and trying to remember where you left the keys. It's all drama at that point, and who has the energy for that?

So you clear the air and start over. Throw out the dirty dishes, add to the archaeological treasures in the backyard. Sweep up the shards from the broken mirror, apologize. Let a brief, beautiful memory or a shared glance make you smile. Back up, turn the wheel. Don't go down that path. Refresh your mind in shared laughter, challenge yourself to swallow pride over what was lost through ridiculous circumstances and look how simple things become once you've forgiven him. Forgiven yourself for being so blind and wicked.

There are two, no three, other fictional heroines, very different and yet similar enough to make the comparison in this instance, because their epiphanies are more - shall we say, agreeable. Theirs are stories I can relate to, be satisfied with, because these women and men forgave, and forgot, and in so doing reaped the benefits of what I believe is a more fulfilled existence, because it is shared. I don't have words to say just why this is, but it's true. No man is an island. No woman, either. Jane went back to Rochester. Elizabeth married Darcy. Luke and Lorelai figured it out in spite of everything. I know of a few real-life couples who did this, too. Sara and Richard. Gwen and Gavin. Joan and Robin, whose story in An Unfinished Marriage is remarkably simple, which makes it all the more interesting and applicable.

Truce. Because every day with your partner is practice for how you'll succeed in the real world, and how you treat those closest to you mirrors how you treat yourself.

Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not keep a record of wrongs. Love never ends. Faith, hope, and love - these three, but the greatest of these is Love.

Preserving Summer Harvest

Chutney is a delectable, spicy preserve-like concoction that is made to be served with slowly-roasted beef, chicken, or pork but is also delicious embedded in an omelet or folded into a piquant casserole. Best when the freshest ingredients are used at the height of their summer goodness, it takes time and patience to chop, peel, skin, and dice all the fruits and vegetables that go into it, but when savoring your own prudent industry over a leisurely wintry meal, there’s simply nothing better to recall to mind the warmth and goodness of long summer days.

Last August 23rd, dear husband and I managed to put up a very good batch of Peach Chutney that we adapted from a recipe in Linda Ferrari’s classic Canning and Preserving, and I took pictures intending to share the results with folks here at the blog. The local peaches and the peppers from the garden were especially plentiful - and juicy - last year. However, real life being what it is, I never got around to making the blog post. Some people may wonder why I’m bothering to do it now, but I’m of the mind that it really is never too late to recall and make a note of good things like this. Jason & I used to make Chutney a lot; in fact, one of our family jokes was to make this very British preparation in early July, and tongue-in-cheek to call it “Fourth of July Chutney,” ‘cause we’re awesome like that. But I digress.

Being in the kitchen is one of my favorite memories of life with this man, who is much more at home around the stove & countertop than I am. While at times it may have been a little awkward as we worked around each others’ idiosyncrasies (random grumbles and mutual harrumphs notwithstanding), as I look back over the years I feel a warmth rise in my chest remembering the way his hands moved, assuredly and with the skill of long practice, and the delectable meals he’s prepared. So - here ‘tis, a year late, but still kind of wonderful – and I’m not just talking about the tangible results. There’s something magical about working together and producing something fine that goes beyond the immediate; it’s a shared experience that underscores the importance of living in the moment while affirming that even when it’s a bit of a challenge, the future is an opportunity worth preserving. Try it with someone you love.


Peach Chutney

7 lbs. fresh peaches, blanched, skinned and chopped
1 large onion, minced
1 c. dried currants
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
1 large gingerroot, peeled and finely chopped
Several red, green, and yellow peppers, sliced, seeds removed, and minced
2 c. cider vinegar
2 c. brown sugar
½ c. granulated organic cane sugar
1 tsp. ground peppercorns
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. whole cloves
½ tsp. ground mace
¾ tsp. ground allspice

Prepare fruit and vegetables carefully. Blend vinegar, sugars, lemon juice, zest, ginger root, and spices in a large heavy pot placed on the stove. Add peaches, onion, currants, and peppers. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring constantly, until slow boil is reached. Lower heat and simmer until thickened to correct consistency.

Ladle into hot, prepared jars, seal, and process for 10 minutes in a water bath. Cool for several hours or overnight and check for complete sealing of jars.

Makes approximately 7-8 pints. Store in a cool, dark place.

Yes Martinsville

I grew up on a beautiful, quiet street in small-town America. It's still small and quiet, but not in quite the same way. Thank goodness it's still beautiful, too.... but for how long is anybody's guess.

Two decades ago, Martinsville Virginia had DuPont, Bassett-Walker, Levi Strauss, Hooker Furniture, Bassett Furniture Industries, and many spin-off manufacturing and shipping firms that were interlaced and inter-dependent for supplies and labor.  Today the county in which Martinsville is located has one of the highest unemployment figures in America at over 20% (at one point it has reached as high as 43%).  The present major employers are listed here, and look at their tiny numbers, and also note the fact that most of them are government and very low-paying service industry jobs. This is horrifying considering Martinsville traditionally has pulled employees from three other counties including one in North Carolina.

The Virginia Museum of Natural History is located in Martinsville, which is an affiliate of the Smithsonian. New College and a significant military technology contractor are located there, but are struggling. There was never much of a housing industry because Martinsville & Henry County's population has remained flat for over two decades. Martinsville has received federal grants and millions in private money has poured in, as attempts to revitalize the economy through restructuring toward technology-based businesses, incentives, and very creative new enterprises have all failed to make a dent in the downward spiral that began in the early 1990s with the closure of Tultex Industries, closely followed by DuPont and the rest. The search for economic options has gone to the grassroots level, as unemployed citizens take their campaign to attract a Google pilot infrastructure project to the town to the Internet, in an attempt to gather support from people who used to live there. Politicians regularly visit the area as it's become the poster child for what's wrong with the economy. Small start-ups and Mom & Pop retailers, cafes, and small-scale service industries are the only game in town, and their turnover is staggering because no one has any money to spend.

Overall all of these efforts are failing to reverse the fact that the town is dying. Take a look. I hardly recognize my hometown in these images. The conclusion at the end of the article is sobering to say the least. The writer implies that as Martinsville has gone, so may the rest of America. I'm certain that's extreme, but it does serve to illustrate the acute changes the export of American manufacturing jobs overseas has brought to at least one community. We are fortunate that here in Sumter County we still have a manufacturing base that is higher than the average.

Link to the New Yorker Article - updated link
Thank you for your time in reading this and looking at the links and article. Please pass this on to whomever you think would be interested in this or could use a reminder of what we work every day to avoid.

ETA: A Martinsville City Councilman counters with some lovely images in this video. Enjoy!
ETA #2: Most of the links in this article have succumbed to time. Here is a link to the George Packer New Yorker article that mentions Martinsville. I'll try to update the links as they are found.

Yes Martinsville

I grew up on a beautiful, quiet street in small-town America. It's still small and quiet, but not in quite the same way. Thank goodness it's still beautiful, too.... but for how long is anybody's guess.

Two decades ago, Martinsville Virginia had DuPont, Bassett-Walker, Levi Strauss, Hooker Furniture, Bassett Furniture Industries, and many spin-off manufacturing and shipping firms that were interlaced and inter-dependent for supplies and labor.  Today the county in which Martinsville is located has one of the highest unemployment figures in America at over 20% (at one point it has reached as high as 43%).  The present major employers are listed here, and look at their tiny numbers, and also note the fact that most of them are government and very low-paying service industry jobs. This is horrifying considering Martinsville traditionally has pulled employees from three other counties including one in North Carolina.

The Virginia Museum of Natural History is located in Martinsville, which is an affiliate of the Smithsonian. New College and a significant military technology contractor are located there, but are struggling. There was never much of a housing industry because Martinsville & Henry County's population has remained flat for over two decades. Martinsville has received federal grants and millions in private money has poured in, as attempts to revitalize the economy through restructuring toward technology-based businesses, incentives, and very creative new enterprises have all failed to make a dent in the downward spiral that began in the early 1990s with the closure of Tultex Industries, closely followed by DuPont and the rest. The search for economic options has gone to the grassroots level, as unemployed citizens take their campaign to attract a Google pilot infrastructure project to the town to the Internet, in an attempt to gather support from people who used to live there. Politicians regularly visit the area as it's become the poster child for what's wrong with the economy. Small start-ups and Mom & Pop retailers, cafes, and small-scale service industries are the only game in town, and their turnover is staggering because no one has any money to spend.

Overall all of these efforts are failing to reverse the fact that the town is dying. Take a look. I hardly recognize my hometown in these images. The conclusion at the end of the article is sobering to say the least. The writer implies that as Martinsville has gone, so may the rest of America. I'm certain that's extreme, but it does serve to illustrate the acute changes the export of American manufacturing jobs overseas has brought to at least one community. We are fortunate that here in Sumter County we still have a manufacturing base that is higher than the average.

Link to the New Yorker Article - updated link
Another interesting viewpoint comparing the town of Mt Airy and Martinsville
Thank you for your time in reading this and looking at the links and article. Please pass this on to whomever you think would be interested in this or could use a reminder of what we work every day to avoid.

ETA: A Martinsville City Councilman counters with some lovely images in this video. Enjoy!
ETA #2: Most of the links in this article have succumbed to time. Here is a link to the George Packer New Yorker article that mentions Martinsville. I'll try to update the links as they are found.

"That Day is Coming"

Awhile back I found this article fascinating and thought-provoking. It doesn't actually even have a title, but it attends to the subject of out-or-not-out gay actors with sobering insight.

Gay Actors in the Film Industry - A History Lesson

After you've read that, hop on over to the LA Weekly News and read this amazing interview and article with Hollywood publicist Howard Bragman, who assists gay performers who want to come out to do so in a sane and effective way.

The Secret Lives of Queer Leading Men

Quote from the article:
The publicist hasn’t brought out an A-list, gay male actor — yet. But Bragman says that day is coming, and after the first superstar decides to reveal himself, a fundamental shift in American acceptance of gay leading men may not be far behind. He’s currently working with a famous musician who’s still closeted from the public, but who will come out next year. And the manager of one major movie star approached Bragman a year ago and asked about his client’s possibly going public, but the actor still refuses to pull the trigger.

“I felt a little frustrated with that superstar,” Bragman says in reflection, “because it had to be ‘handled.’ ”

I have a lot to think about these days. Seriously, there has to be a way to engender support for honesty. There just has to.

I hope you all are well and happy out there. Think about this with me, won't you?

The Fox Goes Out on a Chilly Night

Polanski freed from jail.

Not to clutter up the internet with more words when others have said it better, just want to say I agree with this post, and the subsequent comments are worthwhile reading.



Pic links to Awards Daily's list of signatories and mentions ONTD's impertinent discussion. Image ganked from here, also worthwhile reading.

The Fox
The fox went out on a chilly night
and he prayed for the moon to give him light
For he'd many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o
Source: traditional

No one, in the song, really cared about the chickens, because the hungry pups were so cute. And everyone knows that predators survive on victims, it's the way of the world, the natural order of things. Circle of life, all that.

And everyone feels for the fox who got away, and goes to ground with his prize unpunished, even celebrated for this accomplishment. He lives to steal another day. I guess it's really no wonder some idiots out there confuse this with the basic value of art, or something.

There is, of course, a difference.

The fox steals food in order to survive. Roman Polanski steals innocence and dignity for his own self-gratification. Steals? Yes, steals. Present tense. He's stealing it as we speak, because everyone who reads and understands the root of this story and then looks at his smugly unapologetic face will come away from the experience a little smaller, a little less hopeful, maybe even a little more desperate. It makes us feel sick to know how the system failed here. To say nothing of the victims of his past, who every day have to pick up and go on without the innocence and dignity that he tore out of them to satisfy a manipulative desire for erotic power.

Ugh. Spare us from those artists who would seek to paint this with an equally manipulative and selfish brush, and who thus share equally in stripping humanity of its innocence and dignity. This leaves us all as the children of Dickens, Ignorance and Want, with the same certainty of ultimate emptiness... which, in effect, robs us of the Art, as well. As we watch this year's latest incarnation of A Christmas Carol, we might be thinking about that.

SustainFloyd next Weekend

We visited Floyd last month and really can't wait to go back again.

From friend Fred's blog:

After a successful assembly at the foot of Buffalo Mountain for a drizzly-foggy October 10th “350 climate action”, SustainFloyd now looks ahead to the first community festival of its kind in the county, the SplitRail Eco-Fair, to celebrate ecologically-sustainable aspects of agriculture, arts, commerce, education and life together in vibrant community in a changing world.fragmentsfromfloyd.com, Fragments From Floyd, Oct 2009
Read the rest here

YouTube video of Buffalo Mountain assembly

Really wish I could go, but probably won't make it. It's a rather busy time for me right now - but my heart is there, and I have high hopes for a great weekend for those who can!

Because We Do

The last thing Sam said to his brother Dean at the end of last night's episode (5.04) was, "Because we don't have a choice." But the line that was silently transmitted through the look Dean returned to him was, "No, Sam. It's because we do."

Sam and Dean's journey is all about choice.

Free will sustains the human condition. To succomb to the temptation of blindly following rules imposed by others in order to feel safe, in the right, or morally superior is to give in to the power rush that enables people to do horrific things to one another.

To protect from those who have given in to that temptation is the free choice of those who would seek to also protect the right to choose for all mankind. And that is the sustainable lesson here.



This season is difficult to say the very least. It's the end of the journey, the downhill run. We know where they're going, what we aren't certain is all the twists and turns it will take to get there. But if where we've been with the Winchesters is anything to go on, they're not going without me. I'm so there, hanging on with all my might.

Amen, and even so come.

Check out my friend Marla's excellent Supernatural episode 5.04 recap post at Eclipse Magazine

Rearview Mirror

Well, chickas. It seems that the long and lonely road traveled by the Winchester boys is about to come full circle - again.

I've read with some amusement (a very few of) the proliferation of squee-filled posts and reviews for this past episode, 5.03 Free to Be You and Me chanting the song of the angel - you know, that walking dead thing filled with the spectre of some holier-than-thou ghost.

Good God, Y'all. This is so missing the point. Sorry to break it to some of you, but he's just a vessel. And really, BuddyTV? REALLY? What show have you been watching if you didn't see that coming back - oh, I dunno, halfway thru Season One? Jeebus. If you're looking for a review of this third episode in the fifth season of the greatest show on television that isn't really about website hits and places the side characters firmly in their places, on the sidelines, you've come to the right place.

This, as I really don't have to remind most of you out there, is a show about Sam and Dean.

Firstly, how quickly they forget. There's dearest faithful Bobby, who is literally sidelined for the foreseeable future, having given his body for his son - because family don't end with blood, boy. No, I'm not saying Bobby is really Dean's long-lost Papa. It's just a reference, just a reminder, that in this War that began at the inception of humanity there will always be sacrifices, some of which are very hard to live with because they happen to those closest to us, sometimes to people we don't know how we'll go on without. It's good to see that Bobby hasn't lost his spark, though, and I look forward to seeing him continue to give guidance and even kick Sam and Dean's asses from a vantage point that could actually offer him the chance to see, hear, and maybe even do things that he may have missed from his former standing position. No, really. Watch and see.


Secondly, this loser!Angel. You do realize, that the only reason he's here is to offer some back-up to the boys, and give Jensen & Jared a chance to take a much-needed rest from being two leads in an extremely action-packed, intense fantasy drama. The guys are otherwise going to be completely worn out before their time.

Hmm. I'm sorry he's so annoying, Dean. But is it him or the fact that you'd really rather be doing this by yourself? Yeah, I thought so.

Think of Castiel as a piece of useful furniture. You don't really bond with the furniture. He's provided them with knowledge and cool skeletal tattoos but don't for a second think it's not for his own purposes. He's just as confused as anyone else who can't see both sides of an issue. And don't forget that Dean still has yet to find out just who it was who freed Sam from Bobby's panic room to go kill Lilith and thence allow Lucifer to rise. I really can't wait for when that happens.

But Dean and Sam have parted for the time being, and it's a conscious, deliberate break-up. The brothers had to do this in order to find their way back together. It's in the normal realm of deeply bonded relationships. Dean and Sam need to find out just who each of them is, exactly, and it's much like when Sam went off to Stanford. They were apart for over 2 1/2 years according to the rumors. Think how much each of them grew into his own during that time.

Think how much that's happened in just one episode.



O hai thur, WIAWSNB scene with Sam-as-Dean. Again.

Which brings me to each of them individually: I'll take Sam first. Because UNF. Jesus Padalecki knocked it out of the park, didn't he? From tearful recognition of not!Jess with his still-curious doubt of her mission tinged with genuine love and regret to gutsy, dirty grappling with two desperate hunters from his own side of the team (you know, the confused side), Jared played the gamut of emotional scale with perfection. If anyone is left who thinks this actor can't play just about any type of role he's given, please just watch this episode. Jared has come into his own, and I won't lessen his accomplishment by tangentially referencing his co-star here. Jared makes Sam a living, breathing soul.

And tell me you didn't stand up and cheer when he spat out the demon blood force-fed to him by the two hunters. If you didn't, go back and watch it again. And don't miss the point this time.

See there? The end of 4.20 The Rapture, re-visited. Only he won this time.

This moment was an epiphany for Sam. It is analogous to the one Dean had in 3.10 Dream a Little Dream of Me, when he angrily acknowledges in his fight with himself that the load his father put on him in forcing him to raise his brother and deny so many of his own emotional needs was more than any kid should have had to bear.

It was humanity, rising from the apocalypse.

No, he didn't need the feather to fly. But the seeds of doubt that were planted in him from the moment he knew he'd been fed demon blood as an infant had fertile soil in which to take root, made lush and rich after Ruby's betrayal. Sam didn't know what the blood would do to him. He only knew he wanted it out of him. His body, his choice. In flinging what was forced on him away and acting to defend the innocent Lindsay, Sam was reclaiming his actual birthright as a fully formed human being. Not devil spawn, not his mother's heartbreak, his brother's responsibility, or his daddy's failure.


Hey there, it's Sam's bleeding heart shirt again. That's a clue.

Now Dean. It's easy to miss the boat completely on Dean in this episode. Before I go too far with this analysis, though, let's examine the function of the two angels we saw here: Raphael and Castiel.

Ostensibly, they are brothers (Cas refers to all angels as his brothers, remember), if not in actuality, certainly in past relationships - both fighting for the same team, formerly trusting each other and working together. Quickly, because I'm sure most of you missed it: Raphael, the seemingly stronger angel, killed his brother Castiel, who rose again and came after him because Raph had information Cas wanted, namely the location of God. Or so Cas believed. Ah, because we believe... but I digress (if only slightly).

This would be a roach motel for angels. What else do you think is going on here?

When Cas and Dean trap Raphael, question him and then leave him in the ring of fire, please God - tell me you did not miss the oh-so-very-obvious replaying of the entire scene in Bloodlust where Sam and Dean leave Gordon in the abandoned cabin to stew in his own juice for awhile, and consider the results of his actions. Helloooo, show hit you over the head that it was coming, weren't you watching?



If you did miss it, please go watch episode 2.03 again. Because you're going to miss other things that are coming up soon and then you're going to be completely b'zuhed after that. I saw some pretty out-of-touch analysis of that scene because people missed that. Hi, the dialogue in parts is almost word-for-word. I suppose I should say it again: Show tells, and then it tells us again, and then it tells us it told us, and then it tells us it told us AGAIN. Sheesh.

Hokay. Where was I? Oh, the telling us it told us already. I saw people missed the point of Raphael's "Waaaah! I'm so tired!" soliloquy, too. Okay, maybe you need to watch the entire second season again. RAPHAEL = DEAN. CASTIEL = SAM. In this particular instance. Don't hold that as gospel as we go forward in the season, because if Sam and Dean can play each other and trade places, you know damn well the angels can do the same thing, too.


But back to Dean. I save him for last because this really wasn't his episode, but he is my favorite. I love Sam with the burning passion of a thousand lustful gods, but Dean is - well, I can't describe my love for Dean so that's how I know it's a leetle bit stronger. But right now? Dean needs that serious beat-down he promised Sam in 4.22. Only, he's not gonna get it until he faces his worst demons (again): his own self. That's in an upcoming episode, but I'm getting ahead of myself here. Dean had an epiphany, too, this time. It was perhaps a bit more obvious than Sam's, but it was pretty damn significant.



Again, Castiel was only a part of the furniture here. He was the vessel, the catalyst for Dean to realize something. When show faked you out and made you think it was forgetting its own canon (because please god Kripke, you didn't really forget that angels don't have sex, did you? Clearly you did not. Ahaha.) and Dean takes Castiel to the brothel (because Dean knows the lat-longs for those things in absolutely every state in the Union, duh) the whole point of that was, to get Dean over himself. While Jensen's half-hearted attempt at a belly laugh as the two characters exited the brothel after Cas totally creeps that poor girl rtf out sounded more like bad gas than an honest exclamation of utter amusement, I choose to think it's more because it's physically been so damn long since Dean did laugh, like he claims. He's rusty. But that amazed chuckle was the sign that something had cracked open inside our intrepid warrior, Dean Winchester. It was the sound of the butterfly leaving his chrysalis.


At that moment, Dean sat up, stretched his emotional wings, and flew free of the responsibility he had carried since the age of four: that of taking care of Sam. From here on, Dean is living his own life, free of that emotional baggage. He finally recognized that he's an individual, and it's not so damn bad to live on your own and take care of yourself. Bravo, Dean. Good job.


Yeah, I know what you're thinking. And you'd be right. It's not the same. But it's not time yet. The river of Sam and Dean is an oxbow right now. Be patient. All rivers straighten out eventually.

So. To recap: In this episode Free to Be You and Me, what did that mean, exactly? Sam accepted his loss and reclaimed his humanity, and Dean learned and accepted the fact that he is an individual. Dean hunting with a disadvantaged idiot savant who blurts intelligences at odd moments and can't button his own collar may feed the fantasies of a certain set of unenlightened minions but it doesn't mean Dean has replaced Sam. In fact, it's quite obvious that Dean's only way of having fun with Castiel is to either make fun of him with obscure pop-culture references or by putting him in impossible situations (where our Sam, btw, would have been right at home). When Cas is in the room, it's easy to ignore him by looking at something far more interesting - like the ceiling, the floor, or the walls. You can listen to what he says as he parrots things past characters or one of the boys has said to each other, you can thank him for his obscure skeletal talisman-tattoos. He's semi-useful like that. But don't be looking for him to replace brother for brother.

In this universe, only what is real stands the remotest chance of survival.


Don't be looking for any of this to happen, either. Much as it may be fun to think about. And really nice job, Mark Pelligrino. I approve of this casting.

Screencaps by Marishna


Useful links:
SupernaturalWiki page for this episode
All Supernatural episodes are available for download at Amazon - Checkit! No watermarks, and in HD, too!
Previous metas at susannaheanes' LJ

Carry On

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day, you shall begin it well and serenely...” --Emerson