Monday, October 31, 2011
Knit Fast
I don't have much time to knit right now, so I need to print this out and hang it somewhere to remind me to do it when I can.
-Kat
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Mac and Cheese
Today I realized that I may not actually have time to cook all week, so I decided to make a decent sized batch of my favorite macaroni and cheese with chicken and broccoli so I can have leftovers later.
Here's the recipe:
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, 2 turns of the pan
- 1 pound chicken breast tenders, chopped
- Salt and pepper
- 1 small onion, chopped
- 1 pound macaroni elbows or cavatapi corkscrew shaped pasta twists
- 2 1/2 cups raw broccoli florets, available packaged in produce department
- 3 tablespoons butter
- 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 1 teaspoon paprika
- 3 cups whole milk
- 1 cup chicken stock
- 3 cups yellow sharp Cheddar
- 1 tablespoon prepared Dijon mustard
Directions
Place a pot of water on to boil for macaroni.
Heat a medium pan over medium to medium high heat. Add extra-virgin olive oil and chicken and season with salt and pepper. Saute a couple of minutes then add onion and cook another 5 to 7 minutes until onions are tender and chicken is cooked through. Turn off heat and reserve.
To boiling pasta water, add pasta and salt to season the cooking water. Cook 5 minutes, then add broccoli and cook 3 minutes more or until pasta is cooked to al dente and florets are just tender.
While pasta cooks, heat a medium sauce pot over medium heat. Add butter and melt, then add flour, cayenne and paprika and whisk together over heat until roux bubbles then cook a minute more. Whisk in milk and stock and raise heat a little to bring sauce to a quick boil. Simmer sauce to thicken about 5 minutes.
Drain macaroni or pasta and broccoli florets. Add back to pot and add chicken to the pasta and broccoli.
Add cheese to milk sauce and stir to melt it in, about a minute or so. Stir in mustard and season sauce with salt and pepper. Pour sauce over chicken and broccoli and cooked pasta and stir to combine. Adjust seasonings, transfer to a large serving platter and serve.
-Kat
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Waiting
Today I had a day of entirely new experiences for me. I went to the homecoming parade and game with some pretty big football fans. This meant we got to the game about three and a half hours early and spent two of those outside the stadium waiting to get in. While we were there I wrote this.
Music with a deep base has begun, it's almost time. The base punctuates the conversations and the calls to friends made by the multitude of people here. From far away they look like an unformed mob, but here in the midst of them rough lines begin to from. People are waiting patiently, this is as much part of the day for them as any other event.
The sun is hidden by the massive facade, which towers over the waiters. It is a wall of bricks - red and black - punctuated at each level by a line of sandy concrete. It is outlined by the clear blue sky, a crisp delineation.
More people arrive with every minute, this concrete expanse is filling up. There are really only three colors here orange, black, and the shades of blue in everybody's jeans. The people stand in groups, but the groups periodically blend together or move apart. They all make up one living organism.
If I look beyond the crowds and the cheers, the college buildings are visible. Quiet now, they stand peacefully waiting for the end of the weekend when they will be put to use again. Made of the same red brick and sandy concrete as the stadium, they seem hardly touched by the festivities a mere stone's throw away. No one throngs around their door, anxiously waiting to enter as they hibernate through the weekend. They are older than the stadium too - they look on as the elderly look on the young at a party. They have many memories, but now they are content to sit back quietly and watch others create new memories.
-Kat
Music with a deep base has begun, it's almost time. The base punctuates the conversations and the calls to friends made by the multitude of people here. From far away they look like an unformed mob, but here in the midst of them rough lines begin to from. People are waiting patiently, this is as much part of the day for them as any other event.
The sun is hidden by the massive facade, which towers over the waiters. It is a wall of bricks - red and black - punctuated at each level by a line of sandy concrete. It is outlined by the clear blue sky, a crisp delineation.
More people arrive with every minute, this concrete expanse is filling up. There are really only three colors here orange, black, and the shades of blue in everybody's jeans. The people stand in groups, but the groups periodically blend together or move apart. They all make up one living organism.
If I look beyond the crowds and the cheers, the college buildings are visible. Quiet now, they stand peacefully waiting for the end of the weekend when they will be put to use again. Made of the same red brick and sandy concrete as the stadium, they seem hardly touched by the festivities a mere stone's throw away. No one throngs around their door, anxiously waiting to enter as they hibernate through the weekend. They are older than the stadium too - they look on as the elderly look on the young at a party. They have many memories, but now they are content to sit back quietly and watch others create new memories.
-Kat
Friday, October 28, 2011
Cookies
Today I stood on a street corner yelling "Free cookies!" at passing strangers.
Giving out cookies,
It's harder than it should be.
They don't believe me.
-Kat
Giving out cookies,
It's harder than it should be.
They don't believe me.
-Kat
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Red and Green
I'm still working on my knitted Christmas decorations, and I've had a very busy week. Tonight I decided to sit down with the new Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince RiffTrax and make this.
This was also the first time I tried out an argyle pattern. It went quite well.
-Kat
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Desk
I sat down and wrote something new today.
From this perspective, the columns are giants. They reach up, stretching to hold the ceiling in its place. They are marble, with gray-brown lines wandering through spots of sandy-brown and red dirt. The floor mimics the marble, but with paler tones and straighter lines. The tiles criss-cross, dancing away to the wall.
Next to the door on the far right sits a desk. Marble lines its top and bottom, gray with shades of brown so light they're almost white. Above the marble which rests on the floor, wood appears. Almost sickly light-brown in hue, it flutes - inward first, constricting in uneven steps, then back out matching the movements in reverse. This could be the work of a craftsman, or maybe just a factory machine.
The wood makes broader strokes above this, large rectangles with smaller ones set in at even intervals. The largest rectangle sits facing directly forward, while smaller ones - two on each side - turn away, giving the desk its shape. Above these rectangles the wood moves in a final flourish, although one much smaller than it began with. Then it is topped with a thin layer of marble.
If someone were sitting at this lone desk, they may very well feel pinned in by the thick wood and marble rising to waist height. But nobody sits here. The desk stands solitary, unnoticed by the many passersby going in and out of the heavy doors, while it gathers dust.
-Kat
From this perspective, the columns are giants. They reach up, stretching to hold the ceiling in its place. They are marble, with gray-brown lines wandering through spots of sandy-brown and red dirt. The floor mimics the marble, but with paler tones and straighter lines. The tiles criss-cross, dancing away to the wall.
Next to the door on the far right sits a desk. Marble lines its top and bottom, gray with shades of brown so light they're almost white. Above the marble which rests on the floor, wood appears. Almost sickly light-brown in hue, it flutes - inward first, constricting in uneven steps, then back out matching the movements in reverse. This could be the work of a craftsman, or maybe just a factory machine.
The wood makes broader strokes above this, large rectangles with smaller ones set in at even intervals. The largest rectangle sits facing directly forward, while smaller ones - two on each side - turn away, giving the desk its shape. Above these rectangles the wood moves in a final flourish, although one much smaller than it began with. Then it is topped with a thin layer of marble.
If someone were sitting at this lone desk, they may very well feel pinned in by the thick wood and marble rising to waist height. But nobody sits here. The desk stands solitary, unnoticed by the many passersby going in and out of the heavy doors, while it gathers dust.
-Kat
Monday, October 24, 2011
Cookies
This evening I baked many dozen cookies with my priest. That event inspired a haiku.
Baking late at night,
Sometimes weird things wander off.
Where's the cookie sheet?
-Kat
Baking late at night,
Sometimes weird things wander off.
Where's the cookie sheet?
-Kat
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Fall Leaves
Today I made up this place in my mind.
The reds of fall are so varied, it seems they can't all actually be called red. There are hues of orange and yellow speckled here and there among the fiery bright red and the deep wine red scattered across the garden path.
Standing at its head, the path appears to wander aimlessly away. First it angles to the right and bends around a large tree. On the other side of the tree, the path widens to accommodate a stone bench. This time of year, that bench holds the cold of each night throughout the day. Around its feet leaves are piled up, dropped by the ancient tree and stacked by the wind. The path continues on, moving to the left now, away from the tree and disappearing behind a small hill.
There are many trees here besides the ancient one standing in the path, and they all add to the preponderance of red on the garden floor. It's late in the season, the trees are grasping at their last few leaves and their spindly limbs mourn the loss of their warm layer. A few birds rest in the trees, watching as the sun sets. Coming up behind the setting sun are storm clouds. Dark blue-black, they already contain thunder and lightning and soon they'll drown this garden with much needed rain.
It's time to leave the leaf carpet, the empty trees, and the chilled stone, and come back to this garden another day.
-Kat
The reds of fall are so varied, it seems they can't all actually be called red. There are hues of orange and yellow speckled here and there among the fiery bright red and the deep wine red scattered across the garden path.
Standing at its head, the path appears to wander aimlessly away. First it angles to the right and bends around a large tree. On the other side of the tree, the path widens to accommodate a stone bench. This time of year, that bench holds the cold of each night throughout the day. Around its feet leaves are piled up, dropped by the ancient tree and stacked by the wind. The path continues on, moving to the left now, away from the tree and disappearing behind a small hill.
There are many trees here besides the ancient one standing in the path, and they all add to the preponderance of red on the garden floor. It's late in the season, the trees are grasping at their last few leaves and their spindly limbs mourn the loss of their warm layer. A few birds rest in the trees, watching as the sun sets. Coming up behind the setting sun are storm clouds. Dark blue-black, they already contain thunder and lightning and soon they'll drown this garden with much needed rain.
It's time to leave the leaf carpet, the empty trees, and the chilled stone, and come back to this garden another day.
-Kat
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Sunshine
My mom always used to sing this too me when I was little. It's one of my favorite songs.
-Kat
Friday, October 21, 2011
A Play
I went to see a play this evening, and this is my review in haiku form.
A tricky story,
Full of strong words and struggles -
Laughter and sadness.
-Kat
A tricky story,
Full of strong words and struggles -
Laughter and sadness.
-Kat
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Laine
It's been cold outside for the last few days, and today I wanted some instant gratification knitting. I decided to finish a scarf I've been working on on and off for awhile. Now I can wear it just as soon as the cold really settles in.
-Kat
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Wind
The weather has been changing lately. It inspired this piece.
At first it is just the wind. Rushing through the trees and around the buildings, and moving my hair and the edges of my clothes - it overpowers everything with its presence.
Slowly other things begin to come out from behind the wind. Someone is walking by, their steps getting closer and closer, before fading away. A bird is sitting in the tree above me calling out into the wind. It's song stops, maybe it flew away. Rain is coming soon. the air smells so clean, as if the whole world has had its impurities removed. The smell of a coming rain is a promise that everything will be new again.
Far away, drumming starts up. The same patterns repeat over and over as the band practices. They give rhythm to the unpredictable wind, their sound stays constant while the wind moves the trees first one way, then another, in no particular manner. Closer than the drums, but not close to here, shouts begin as an impromptu football game starts up. Friendly calls of plays and instructions are followed by cheers as one side or the other scores.
The wind picks up, dropping the temperature as it passes - it's starting to get really cold now. When the wind starts going like this I feel it can move mountains - it certainly tries to move me. It gusts through the trees and then dies down again. The other sounds come back, but they show the effects. They seem more muted, more weary, they feel the powerful force of this wind.
The clock chimes, and my short reverie must end. I stand up and the wind pushes me on my way.
-Kat
At first it is just the wind. Rushing through the trees and around the buildings, and moving my hair and the edges of my clothes - it overpowers everything with its presence.
Slowly other things begin to come out from behind the wind. Someone is walking by, their steps getting closer and closer, before fading away. A bird is sitting in the tree above me calling out into the wind. It's song stops, maybe it flew away. Rain is coming soon. the air smells so clean, as if the whole world has had its impurities removed. The smell of a coming rain is a promise that everything will be new again.
Far away, drumming starts up. The same patterns repeat over and over as the band practices. They give rhythm to the unpredictable wind, their sound stays constant while the wind moves the trees first one way, then another, in no particular manner. Closer than the drums, but not close to here, shouts begin as an impromptu football game starts up. Friendly calls of plays and instructions are followed by cheers as one side or the other scores.
The wind picks up, dropping the temperature as it passes - it's starting to get really cold now. When the wind starts going like this I feel it can move mountains - it certainly tries to move me. It gusts through the trees and then dies down again. The other sounds come back, but they show the effects. They seem more muted, more weary, they feel the powerful force of this wind.
The clock chimes, and my short reverie must end. I stand up and the wind pushes me on my way.
-Kat
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Hobo Pack
I have not had the chance to cook for myself lately, but tonight I decided to whip up one of my favorite healthy meals - all wrapped up in foil.
The recipe is easy. Put chicken, lots of fresh veg, and a bit of olive oil into two layers of foil; wrap up tightly and cook for an hour or so, until the potatoes are tender and the chicken can be cut with a fork. Voila!
-Kat
Monday, October 17, 2011
Snow Dust
I've been having a really happy week or so, and it reminded me of this poem. I thought I'd share, and hopefully it'll bring a smile to some other faces too.
-Kat
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Chalkboard
Awhile back I hung a picture in a frame, and a couple of days later the frame fell and the glass broke. I decided to turn that frame into a usable chalkboard to hang in my kitchen, and I finally got around to making it up today. I used something I found that is basically chalkboard contact paper. I love it.
-Kat
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Anniversary
I got some of the inspiration for this from a day sometime last year when I spent some time on a rainy Friday with my mom and a librarian reading the titles of trashy romance novels in the back of a library.
"I really don't want to do this," he said, trying to beg off our anniversary celebration. I stared him down and handed him the book.
"We're best friends and it's our one year anniversary - you are doing this," I replied settling into my half of our reading nook.
Our reading nook is a spot he carefully carved into his garden years ago. On three sides it is surrounded in spring blooms and lush summer foliage, and the fourth side is open to view the rest of the garden. The thick leaves block out all the sounds other than the wind gently moving through them. It was a beautiful fall day - the sun was shining but it was cool, and it was the last few weeks before these leaves would turn and fall. Soon the garden would sleep for the winter, and this nook would sleep as well.
He settled back into his pile of pillows and glared right back. "I just don't know why you feel the need to make this a celebratory thing - it's not really something that puts me in my best light." He was trying to stall, but he knew I wouldn't let up.
"A year ago today I found you here reading a trashy romance novel. That opened up a whole new side to our friendship, and we're celebrating" I replied. He closed his eyes, likely remembering the day I walked over unannounced to borrow something and found him out here in that compromising position.
"Fine," he said, "I don't get why you're making me do this but I know you won't let up."
"Good." I replied, opening up my own copy of the book for when my turn came. "Now start reading."
He began with the title - "The Greek Tycoon's Disobedient Bride," he announced in a grudging, but appropriately melodramatic voice, before proceeding to read aloud chapter one.
-Kat
"I really don't want to do this," he said, trying to beg off our anniversary celebration. I stared him down and handed him the book.
"We're best friends and it's our one year anniversary - you are doing this," I replied settling into my half of our reading nook.
Our reading nook is a spot he carefully carved into his garden years ago. On three sides it is surrounded in spring blooms and lush summer foliage, and the fourth side is open to view the rest of the garden. The thick leaves block out all the sounds other than the wind gently moving through them. It was a beautiful fall day - the sun was shining but it was cool, and it was the last few weeks before these leaves would turn and fall. Soon the garden would sleep for the winter, and this nook would sleep as well.
He settled back into his pile of pillows and glared right back. "I just don't know why you feel the need to make this a celebratory thing - it's not really something that puts me in my best light." He was trying to stall, but he knew I wouldn't let up.
"A year ago today I found you here reading a trashy romance novel. That opened up a whole new side to our friendship, and we're celebrating" I replied. He closed his eyes, likely remembering the day I walked over unannounced to borrow something and found him out here in that compromising position.
"Fine," he said, "I don't get why you're making me do this but I know you won't let up."
"Good." I replied, opening up my own copy of the book for when my turn came. "Now start reading."
He began with the title - "The Greek Tycoon's Disobedient Bride," he announced in a grudging, but appropriately melodramatic voice, before proceeding to read aloud chapter one.
-Kat
Friday, October 14, 2011
Driving
I went driving with my mom around Stillwater today, and it inspired a haiku.
Where does that road go?
Let's start driving and find out.
Into the country.
-Kat
Where does that road go?
Let's start driving and find out.
Into the country.
-Kat
Blue and White
I had a bit of time to actually sit down and knit today, so I added another ornament to my collection for this year.
I got to play with intarsia - using two colors - which I haven't had time to do in awhile. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
-Kat
I got to play with intarsia - using two colors - which I haven't had time to do in awhile. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
-Kat
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Strangers
Have you ever had someone come up to you and just start talking with you, like you already know each other? I find that absolutely weird when it happens. And I wrote something.
"I think I have you in one of my classes," she said as she sat in the chair across from him.
"I have no idea who you are," he thought while making a polite reply. They fell into something of a conversation; basic subjects, and safe ones. As the conversation progressed, he was surprised to find out how much this woman was willing to share with him. He stuck to topics that could be easily found in a google search, but she seemed willing and even wishing to share secrets with him that he would only tell his cat. This conversation was becoming awkward.
He continued to listen with half his attention, and bestowed the other half on the busy coffee shop they sat in. She was going on about her most recent fight with her boyfriend, while he saw the line at the register growing steadily at a rate faster than it shrank. The espresso machine hissed every minute or so breaking the white noise of all the conversations going on around them.
He took another sip of his bitter coffee and tried again to focus on this strange woman across form him. She was gesturing wildly now, speaking about a teacher she swore was crazy. He nodded his head and made some sound come out of his mouth, but she didn't seem to be looking for a response, so he let his mind wander away again.
"Why are coffee shops always brown?" He thought, looking at the brown walls, floor, tables, and chairs. They were different shades of brown, but all very brown. He found himself staring at a swirly brown pattern in the tuning out the world around him.
"Well I should be heading out," she said, grabbing her purse and standing up. He pulled his eyes up to her, just as she was turning to go, without even a good-bye. And he realized that, as much as he knew about her now, she didn't even know her name.
- Kat
"I think I have you in one of my classes," she said as she sat in the chair across from him.
"I have no idea who you are," he thought while making a polite reply. They fell into something of a conversation; basic subjects, and safe ones. As the conversation progressed, he was surprised to find out how much this woman was willing to share with him. He stuck to topics that could be easily found in a google search, but she seemed willing and even wishing to share secrets with him that he would only tell his cat. This conversation was becoming awkward.
He continued to listen with half his attention, and bestowed the other half on the busy coffee shop they sat in. She was going on about her most recent fight with her boyfriend, while he saw the line at the register growing steadily at a rate faster than it shrank. The espresso machine hissed every minute or so breaking the white noise of all the conversations going on around them.
He took another sip of his bitter coffee and tried again to focus on this strange woman across form him. She was gesturing wildly now, speaking about a teacher she swore was crazy. He nodded his head and made some sound come out of his mouth, but she didn't seem to be looking for a response, so he let his mind wander away again.
"Why are coffee shops always brown?" He thought, looking at the brown walls, floor, tables, and chairs. They were different shades of brown, but all very brown. He found himself staring at a swirly brown pattern in the tuning out the world around him.
"Well I should be heading out," she said, grabbing her purse and standing up. He pulled his eyes up to her, just as she was turning to go, without even a good-bye. And he realized that, as much as he knew about her now, she didn't even know her name.
- Kat
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Conversations
Stuff happened today that I wasn't expecting to happen, so I wrote a haiku.
Just chatting a bit,
We should probably head home -
Two hours later.
-Kat
Just chatting a bit,
We should probably head home -
Two hours later.
-Kat
Monday, October 10, 2011
Daydream
I wrote something again.
Sitting in her usual spot - second row, next to the window - and she was taking notes of her teacher's view of Phaedra. He was gesticulating as he described the importance of the tale of the minotaur, but she was having a hard time following the movements of his hands or his words today.
She glanced out thew window at the storm. Everything was moving with the power of the wind, and the trees were shaken to thier core. Only a few people were out, clinging to thier useless umbrellas as they rushed by. She could feel the wetness of the rain running through her hair and the chill of the wind ripping into her jacket.
Now she was running through the storm, lauging, ignoring all of the responsibilites behind her. She dodged between two trees and ran straight into a deep puddle. Lauging and still running, she felt her shoes become waterlogged and felt the top of the water skim her ankles under her jeans. She was soaked through and utterly happy.
Lightning flashed to her left, and its thunder rolled over her head mere moments later. Her heart shivered, but nothing could shake her estatic joy in this moment. Finally, she stopped under a massive tree, wide enough for her to hide behind, and so full of leaves it slowed the rain. She looked out at the gray-black sky, still smiling like a fool, and sat down in the sodden grass.
She turned her head and focused back on the lecture she was supposed to be learning. She wrote down the point the teacher had just made, and realized that she had barely missed a beat.
-Kat
Sitting in her usual spot - second row, next to the window - and she was taking notes of her teacher's view of Phaedra. He was gesticulating as he described the importance of the tale of the minotaur, but she was having a hard time following the movements of his hands or his words today.
She glanced out thew window at the storm. Everything was moving with the power of the wind, and the trees were shaken to thier core. Only a few people were out, clinging to thier useless umbrellas as they rushed by. She could feel the wetness of the rain running through her hair and the chill of the wind ripping into her jacket.
Now she was running through the storm, lauging, ignoring all of the responsibilites behind her. She dodged between two trees and ran straight into a deep puddle. Lauging and still running, she felt her shoes become waterlogged and felt the top of the water skim her ankles under her jeans. She was soaked through and utterly happy.
Lightning flashed to her left, and its thunder rolled over her head mere moments later. Her heart shivered, but nothing could shake her estatic joy in this moment. Finally, she stopped under a massive tree, wide enough for her to hide behind, and so full of leaves it slowed the rain. She looked out at the gray-black sky, still smiling like a fool, and sat down in the sodden grass.
She turned her head and focused back on the lecture she was supposed to be learning. She wrote down the point the teacher had just made, and realized that she had barely missed a beat.
-Kat
Sunday, October 9, 2011
No Games No Picnics
The weather here has been beautiful for the last week or so, and I've been spending a lot more time outside - usually taking my study there. Today I was talking with a few friends about some of my time in England, and the way we could picnic almost every day because the weather was so wonderful. Having that on my mind, I made a small scrapbook of some of the time we spend outdoors in England. The first pictures are from a picnic in the Magdalene College Fellows Garden where there was a sign posted saying "No games, no picnics." We had to ignore that rule, because it was so lovely.
-Kat
-Kat
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Today
Today I spent the majority of the day finishing my first draft of my 15 page yoga paper. That means I didn't have time to do much creatively. What I did come up with is three haikus about my day.
I'm spending hours
Writing in a coffee shop -
so many pages.
Driving through campus
I'm thinking "Oh God, oh god -
We're all gonna die."
Walking in the dark
The library full of light,
It's very empty.
-Kat
P.S. Bonus points if you get the reference in the second haiku.
I'm spending hours
Writing in a coffee shop -
so many pages.
Driving through campus
I'm thinking "Oh God, oh god -
We're all gonna die."
Walking in the dark
The library full of light,
It's very empty.
-Kat
P.S. Bonus points if you get the reference in the second haiku.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Sunrise
This is another one of those grab bag stories - three random photos and two random names.
It was a long walk from the center of town, but William and Stacey enjoyed the cool air of the pre-dawn shadows. The road wound between hills, bringing new views every fifty feet or so. The trees here were so many colors as fall finally descended. Some trees remained green, while others burst into every shade between bright yellow, rust red, and pale brown.
"How long do you think it will take?" asked Stacey, breaking their thoughtful silence.
Shrugging, William answered, "With us doing the work, we'll have that old barn fixed up in no time."
Stacey laughed. "Well if I take into account your general bravado, that'll still only be a few weeks - I'm so excited to see it done." He laughed as well, but valiantly defended his plans of finishing all the work within the next couple of days.
Finally they arrived at the old, broken-down barn at the end of the road. The sun rose from behind one of the hills and bathed the area in light. That light showed the barn in every creaky detail. The hinges on the open doors were rusting off, the large puddle on the floor pointed out a leak or two in the roof, and one of the windows was cracked while all of them were caked with grime.
"Okay," William said, his bravado still behind his words, "a week tops." Stacey laughed again.
"If you want to get this done in a week, we won't be able to sleep. Just let it take time, and we'll get it done eventually." They both walked closer to the barn, envisioning it clean, bright, and full of people.
"This is going to be wonderful," sighed Stacey. "We should have it done in time for Christmas morning."
"We should have a sunrise service," cried William, running around the puddle to the back of the main area. "The altar will be here, and once those windows are clean, the sun will come straight in there."
Walking slowly in William's wake, Stacey looked around, seeing everything this space could be. "It's going to be a beautiful church. I can't wait for all our neighbors to be able to join us."
Together they walked back to the doors to get started. "It will be beautiful, and we'll be done in less than two weeks," announced William, bounding ahead to grab their tools.
-Kat
It was a long walk from the center of town, but William and Stacey enjoyed the cool air of the pre-dawn shadows. The road wound between hills, bringing new views every fifty feet or so. The trees here were so many colors as fall finally descended. Some trees remained green, while others burst into every shade between bright yellow, rust red, and pale brown.
"How long do you think it will take?" asked Stacey, breaking their thoughtful silence.
Shrugging, William answered, "With us doing the work, we'll have that old barn fixed up in no time."
Stacey laughed. "Well if I take into account your general bravado, that'll still only be a few weeks - I'm so excited to see it done." He laughed as well, but valiantly defended his plans of finishing all the work within the next couple of days.
Finally they arrived at the old, broken-down barn at the end of the road. The sun rose from behind one of the hills and bathed the area in light. That light showed the barn in every creaky detail. The hinges on the open doors were rusting off, the large puddle on the floor pointed out a leak or two in the roof, and one of the windows was cracked while all of them were caked with grime.
"Okay," William said, his bravado still behind his words, "a week tops." Stacey laughed again.
"If you want to get this done in a week, we won't be able to sleep. Just let it take time, and we'll get it done eventually." They both walked closer to the barn, envisioning it clean, bright, and full of people.
"This is going to be wonderful," sighed Stacey. "We should have it done in time for Christmas morning."
"We should have a sunrise service," cried William, running around the puddle to the back of the main area. "The altar will be here, and once those windows are clean, the sun will come straight in there."
Walking slowly in William's wake, Stacey looked around, seeing everything this space could be. "It's going to be a beautiful church. I can't wait for all our neighbors to be able to join us."
Together they walked back to the doors to get started. "It will be beautiful, and we'll be done in less than two weeks," announced William, bounding ahead to grab their tools.
-Kat
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Acquainted with the Night
Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets. He's the poet I wrote about when I first learned to write an academic paper, and I've loved his poetry ever since. This has always been one of my favorites, it's musicality haunts me.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
A Tree
Today I wrote something. It's about a tree.
It stands about two and a half feet wide at the base, differentiating into roots just before they disappear into the ground. There it reaches out further and deeper every day to gather the energy that becomes the tree. About a foot above the turf it suddenly narrows to a mere two feet across. Standing nearly straight, it leans slightly to the left. The ridges in the bark here are large and deep, the wrinkles of a tree that has seen so much. The deepest ones cascade from a cluster of three knots. Those knots, the nearly healed scars of three branches cut long ago, call out man's history with this tree.
Just around the tree to the left of the knots is the lowest branch reaching out and away from the trunk. First it moves up, then bends and shifts its direction to be nearly parallel to the ground, finally three quarters of its way away from the tree, it explodes with leaves.
Above another knot - a much newer scar - the tree splits. Now it follows two paths, splitting again and again until it forms a canopy. The leaves are a rich, but surprisingly light green, interrupted here by yellow, there by brown. They form bunches near the end of each branch, clusters of color attached to a rich gray-brown.
As the wind moves, the tree comes to life. It whispers the sound of the rain that nourishes it and bends and flutters, keeping its balance.
-Kat
It stands about two and a half feet wide at the base, differentiating into roots just before they disappear into the ground. There it reaches out further and deeper every day to gather the energy that becomes the tree. About a foot above the turf it suddenly narrows to a mere two feet across. Standing nearly straight, it leans slightly to the left. The ridges in the bark here are large and deep, the wrinkles of a tree that has seen so much. The deepest ones cascade from a cluster of three knots. Those knots, the nearly healed scars of three branches cut long ago, call out man's history with this tree.
Just around the tree to the left of the knots is the lowest branch reaching out and away from the trunk. First it moves up, then bends and shifts its direction to be nearly parallel to the ground, finally three quarters of its way away from the tree, it explodes with leaves.
Above another knot - a much newer scar - the tree splits. Now it follows two paths, splitting again and again until it forms a canopy. The leaves are a rich, but surprisingly light green, interrupted here by yellow, there by brown. They form bunches near the end of each branch, clusters of color attached to a rich gray-brown.
As the wind moves, the tree comes to life. It whispers the sound of the rain that nourishes it and bends and flutters, keeping its balance.
-Kat
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Orange Beef
Tonight I cooked again. The recipe for this week was orange beef, and it turned out fantastically. But the sauce doesn't really thicken up, so I might use some corn starch next time I make it. I also could not find snap peas at the store, so I had to substitute regular peas instead.
prep time:25 min |
start to finish:25 min |
makes:2 servings |
| 1/2 | lb beef boneless sirloin, cut into thin strips |
| 1 | cup reduced-sodium beef broth |
| 2 | tablespoons teriyaki stir-fry sauce |
| 1 | tablespoon orange marmalade |
| Dash of ground red pepper (cayenne) | |
| 1 | box (9 oz) Green Giant® frozen sugar snap peas |
| 3/4 | cup uncooked fine egg noodles (1 1/2 oz) |
| 1. | Heat 10-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Cook beef in skillet 2 to 4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until no longer pink. Remove beef from skillet; keep warm. |
| 2. | Add broth, stir-fry sauce, marmalade and red pepper to skillet. Heat to boiling. Stir in pea pods and noodles; reduce heat to medium. Cover; cook about 5 minutes or until noodles are tender. |
| 3. | Stir in beef. Cook uncovered 2 to 3 minutes or until sauce is slightly thickened. -Kat |
Monday, October 3, 2011
The Stars
Today I wrote a piece based off of three random pictures from google images, and three random names from a name generator. Here's what I ended up with.
As the wolf howled, each of the three women jumped in surprise. Night had just fallen, and the chill in the air had begun to sink into their skin. However, the fire was growing, and its crackling invited them closer to it as they settled in for awhile. The clean scent of dew falling outside their campfire circle muted their initial fears, and each began to be able to truly enjoy the sounds of unseen beings, large and small, carrying through the trees. They were silent a long while, just staring into the flames and being.
Then Teodora started humming. Judith and Jayne exchanged amused glances; Teodora often began humming without noticing that she was doing it. Jayne spoke up announcing, "you must be thinking of something good."
She slowly drew her gaze away from the fire and stopped humming before asking "What?" She hadn't really taken in anything Jayne had said.
Judith answered for Jayne, "You're humming again. You only do that when you're extremely happy. What's on your mind?"
Teodora uncrossed her legs and hugged her knees to her chest. As she looked behind her and ahead of her she responded by asking "Have you ever noticed how different the dark of the forest is from the dark of the ocean?" The other two shook their heads at first, then looked about them. Then they understood what Teodora meant. The dark of the ocean stretching away ahead of them was so much deeper than the darkness of the forest behind them, and suddenly their fire seemed very insignificant.
"But look up," Teodora said, reclining on her back. "The darkness of the sky is the same everywhere. Dark and light at the same time, because of all those stars. Have you ever seen something like that back at home?" Judith and Jayne reclined slowly to try to see what Teodora could. They lay there in silence for more than ten minutes.
"So that's what you're happy about? The stars?" Asked Jayne, breaking the stillness once again.
"Yes Jayne, Tonight I'm just happy about the stars," sighed Teodora before resuming her quiet humming.
The wolf had been quiet a long time, listening to the sounds of the humans nearby. Now he loped further into the woods, leaving the three women, their small sailboat, and their adventure around the world behind him with a flick of his bushy tail.
-Kat
As the wolf howled, each of the three women jumped in surprise. Night had just fallen, and the chill in the air had begun to sink into their skin. However, the fire was growing, and its crackling invited them closer to it as they settled in for awhile. The clean scent of dew falling outside their campfire circle muted their initial fears, and each began to be able to truly enjoy the sounds of unseen beings, large and small, carrying through the trees. They were silent a long while, just staring into the flames and being.
Then Teodora started humming. Judith and Jayne exchanged amused glances; Teodora often began humming without noticing that she was doing it. Jayne spoke up announcing, "you must be thinking of something good."
She slowly drew her gaze away from the fire and stopped humming before asking "What?" She hadn't really taken in anything Jayne had said.
Judith answered for Jayne, "You're humming again. You only do that when you're extremely happy. What's on your mind?"
Teodora uncrossed her legs and hugged her knees to her chest. As she looked behind her and ahead of her she responded by asking "Have you ever noticed how different the dark of the forest is from the dark of the ocean?" The other two shook their heads at first, then looked about them. Then they understood what Teodora meant. The dark of the ocean stretching away ahead of them was so much deeper than the darkness of the forest behind them, and suddenly their fire seemed very insignificant.
"But look up," Teodora said, reclining on her back. "The darkness of the sky is the same everywhere. Dark and light at the same time, because of all those stars. Have you ever seen something like that back at home?" Judith and Jayne reclined slowly to try to see what Teodora could. They lay there in silence for more than ten minutes.
"So that's what you're happy about? The stars?" Asked Jayne, breaking the stillness once again.
"Yes Jayne, Tonight I'm just happy about the stars," sighed Teodora before resuming her quiet humming.
The wolf had been quiet a long time, listening to the sounds of the humans nearby. Now he loped further into the woods, leaving the three women, their small sailboat, and their adventure around the world behind him with a flick of his bushy tail.
-Kat
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Start and Finish
I only have a couple more sections of my yoga paper to write, and I need to get them done soon, so today I wrote another one.
Once I started calling myself a yogi, I started growing even more in my practice, and each time I got on my mat was a new, utterly enjoyable experience. My practice began with me standing, hands at heart center, feet together, and eyes closed. Breathing in and out through my nose and constricting my glottis, I emptied my mind and focused on how my body felt that day.
Opening my eyes, I began with a series of sun salutations. Arms overhead, palms together, I looked up and reached up. Then hinge at the hips, arms out, fall forward, forehead to knees. Next, back straight, fingertips resting on the mat. Then the hard part - lean into my hands and step back into plank. Elbows tight to my sides, I exhale and lower down slowly. I push my chest up and look up, feeling the deep back-bend. Lifting my hips and rolling my heels over my toes, I settled into downward facing dog. Resting and breathing, I remained for five deep breaths. Inhaling, I look forward and will my feet to follow, stopping in a forward bend before rising up again hinging at my hips and raising my arms. Exhaling I relaxed my arms back down to my sides, ready to repeat the process.
Then followed an hour of stretching, breathing, lifting, twisting, balancing, and folding in every way imaginable. Finally the class ended with inversions. It was yogi's choice, and I almost always choose back-bends. Standing on my mat a couple of feet away from a wall, I'd look backward and reach behind me, placing my hands flat on the wall. Taking a couple of steps forward, I walked my hands closer to the floor. Once I was as low as I could be, I stretched out my arms and held my position for as long as I could before pushing back into my hands and standing up.
Being upside down and then standing back up does amazingly weird things to the body. The blood rushing through my head makes me light-headed as I rise up, and being upside down for a while makes me feel light all over makes me walk taller as I go through my day. Yoga became a part of me as I practiced and transformed the way I move through the world. And that transformation continues as I continue my practice.
-Kat
Once I started calling myself a yogi, I started growing even more in my practice, and each time I got on my mat was a new, utterly enjoyable experience. My practice began with me standing, hands at heart center, feet together, and eyes closed. Breathing in and out through my nose and constricting my glottis, I emptied my mind and focused on how my body felt that day.
Opening my eyes, I began with a series of sun salutations. Arms overhead, palms together, I looked up and reached up. Then hinge at the hips, arms out, fall forward, forehead to knees. Next, back straight, fingertips resting on the mat. Then the hard part - lean into my hands and step back into plank. Elbows tight to my sides, I exhale and lower down slowly. I push my chest up and look up, feeling the deep back-bend. Lifting my hips and rolling my heels over my toes, I settled into downward facing dog. Resting and breathing, I remained for five deep breaths. Inhaling, I look forward and will my feet to follow, stopping in a forward bend before rising up again hinging at my hips and raising my arms. Exhaling I relaxed my arms back down to my sides, ready to repeat the process.
Then followed an hour of stretching, breathing, lifting, twisting, balancing, and folding in every way imaginable. Finally the class ended with inversions. It was yogi's choice, and I almost always choose back-bends. Standing on my mat a couple of feet away from a wall, I'd look backward and reach behind me, placing my hands flat on the wall. Taking a couple of steps forward, I walked my hands closer to the floor. Once I was as low as I could be, I stretched out my arms and held my position for as long as I could before pushing back into my hands and standing up.
Being upside down and then standing back up does amazingly weird things to the body. The blood rushing through my head makes me light-headed as I rise up, and being upside down for a while makes me feel light all over makes me walk taller as I go through my day. Yoga became a part of me as I practiced and transformed the way I move through the world. And that transformation continues as I continue my practice.
-Kat
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Morning Haiku
Catching up on Faust
My friends still sleeping soundly.
It's not that early.
Based on the very beginning of my day as I got a bit of homework done while my friends who are here for the weekend slept in late.
-Kat
My friends still sleeping soundly.
It's not that early.
Based on the very beginning of my day as I got a bit of homework done while my friends who are here for the weekend slept in late.
-Kat
Meditation
Today I realized how soon my paper on yoga is due, so I got down to writing more of it. I wrote two parts, one which is much more academic and less creative, and one which is more creative, though autobiographical. Here's that one.
I knew yoga was becoming a permanent part of my life when it had me waking up at six nearly every morning and adjusting my class schedule to make sure it would fit in. People had to hear me going on about the ways my body was beginning to open up. I knew yoga was a part of my life when I stopped noticing the looks I got every time I talked about my wishes to open my hips more.
I always arrived to my morning class extremely early. No one was around as I rolled out my mat and sat to wait. Day after day I'd have time alone on my mat. Sometimes that time would be filled with thought, sometimes with meditation, and sometimes with prayer. Sometimes it was filled with all three. That time on my mat became part of my practice as much as any pose I could try to bend myself into. Sitting cross-legged in front of a mirror I could see the physical effects of my practice while I felt the spiritual effects. My hips opened up and my knees fell to the floor as I learned to deal with crises and bad days and to put a little good into them.
As I learned asanas and let them begin to transform my body, I also learned meditation - the most difficult aspect of yoga. I practiced being still and mindful on and off my mat as yoga permeated my life. Meditation takes as much time as training and strengthening a muscle does. I practiced at first for just a minute or two at a time. Sitting cross-legged with my palms open and receptive on my knees. The light was dark and my eyes were closed as I practiced pranyama - control of my breath. Sitting in meditation, if I really let my thoughts go and just focused on my breath, something happened. I felt myself rise above my body, suspended with each breath. This was an amazing feeling - one of cleansing and centering. I would extend the time I was in meditation, and the time I felt like I was floating. Meditation means so much, freeing the worries of the day and connecting. For me connecting to God in a new and meaningful way.
I knew yoga was a part of my life when it became religious, like and unlike it was for the ancient Hindus who began the practice.
If that sounds fun, you should try out meditation.
-Kat
I knew yoga was becoming a permanent part of my life when it had me waking up at six nearly every morning and adjusting my class schedule to make sure it would fit in. People had to hear me going on about the ways my body was beginning to open up. I knew yoga was a part of my life when I stopped noticing the looks I got every time I talked about my wishes to open my hips more.
I always arrived to my morning class extremely early. No one was around as I rolled out my mat and sat to wait. Day after day I'd have time alone on my mat. Sometimes that time would be filled with thought, sometimes with meditation, and sometimes with prayer. Sometimes it was filled with all three. That time on my mat became part of my practice as much as any pose I could try to bend myself into. Sitting cross-legged in front of a mirror I could see the physical effects of my practice while I felt the spiritual effects. My hips opened up and my knees fell to the floor as I learned to deal with crises and bad days and to put a little good into them.
As I learned asanas and let them begin to transform my body, I also learned meditation - the most difficult aspect of yoga. I practiced being still and mindful on and off my mat as yoga permeated my life. Meditation takes as much time as training and strengthening a muscle does. I practiced at first for just a minute or two at a time. Sitting cross-legged with my palms open and receptive on my knees. The light was dark and my eyes were closed as I practiced pranyama - control of my breath. Sitting in meditation, if I really let my thoughts go and just focused on my breath, something happened. I felt myself rise above my body, suspended with each breath. This was an amazing feeling - one of cleansing and centering. I would extend the time I was in meditation, and the time I felt like I was floating. Meditation means so much, freeing the worries of the day and connecting. For me connecting to God in a new and meaningful way.
I knew yoga was a part of my life when it became religious, like and unlike it was for the ancient Hindus who began the practice.
If that sounds fun, you should try out meditation.
-Kat
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