PIE

Easy to make KEY LIME PIE:
2 14 oz.  cans sweetened condensed milk
2/3 cup freshly squeezed key lime juice
1/2 cup sour cream
2 tbsp. lime zest
9" pie crust of your choice

Cut and squeeze key limes, strain,  and pour into jars

Mix all the ingredients thoroughly in a glass or pottery bowl.

Pour gelling pie filling into pie crust and sprinkle additional key lime zest on top. Cover and hill pie.

Toss the cans, store the remainder of the key lime juice, make a lime drink from the limes grated for zest- preferably add some vodka and shake with a little vermouth in drink mixer, and fill a martini glass or two.  Lick the spatula and bowl  before washing and drying!!

Yes'm it is that simple!  Joyous Holidays to all!! And to all a Great Holiday Feast!

TRAGEDY

On Friday, December 14, 2012 20 children and 8 adults died in a brutal shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School, Newtown, Fairfield County, CT, USA - a tragedy that even the coldest of hearts would not be able to avoid feeling the pain.

In these initial days of confusion and psychological shielding from the pain of this tragedy's reality, there has been considerable discussion about what happened and its root cause.

Belief systems, memories, feelings, general dysfunction have been called into question.

Was it too liberal gun laws?
Was it the absence of law enforcement at the school?
Was it some trauma the shooter had experienced which has been festering?
Was it the fallibility of the newly installed security system?
Was whole school system at fault for not teaching interventions for this form of autism?
Was it the mother's fault for having an accessible battle weapon?
Was it....?  Was it...? Was it...?

We who are not family and friends will not only be grieving in our own way for that which has wounded deeply our sense of safe place in the world, an experience which is but a recurrence of the experience of 9.11, but each of us will also be responding to our unique sense of social responsibility in our own ways.

Photo by Jane Cutler. I call this "Holy Moment". 

PHENOMENAL

I just read "Phenomenal Woman" by Maya Angelou.

Everyone has a phenomenal woman dancing in their inner wisdom circle.

In some, she is dormant, in some she is alive.

Maya provides an opportunity to awaken her, if she is not already strutting her confident self.

"I am a woman phenomenally", she writes, " Phenomenal woman, that's me."

By this reawakening within, I'm ready for the holidays and all its accompanying stress.

""It's in the click of my heels, the bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, the need of my care..."

Phenomenal Women: Linda, Moi, Reggie, Kathy, Linda, at First Lake in Old Forge, a mini Mariner Scouts reunion .

DRUM

Sitting on the midnight porch, held by the intoxicating scent of night jasmine, the moon is full, and the stars shine brightly.

This full moon shines from right at the top of the sky, casting shadows only directly under the trees.

I begin tapping on my Celtic drum, which  more resembles a gypsy cymbals than anything else.

Softly, so as not to bother the neighbors (there also is a small part of me which still self-conscious about this monthly occurrence from my porch), the beat slowly aligns to a natural rhythm.

Lost in the beat of the drum, I open my half closed eyes and notice the clouds from the north slowly covering the sky and carrying with them a cold wintry chill.

The thick clouds look like the fleece on the back of a lamb, a most unusual diversion from the usual cumulus or stratus appearances.

I take a deep breath, breathing out slowly, contemplating the wonder of nature and of the drum beat.

At Stone Circle on Lake Champlain in Burlington, VT, the marking of the seasonal position of the sun.

RETURNING

This home, in a small town in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountain Range, is a huge country home, typical of the area. It originally belonged to a doctor, the waiting room there on the left side entrance.

 I loved to visit here in the winter, driving up from New York City when I was older.

  

When I was very young, it was a short car trip which I would take with my Father for a visit.

Inside, everything is conducive to a sense of being at home - the lush fabric of the furniture, the rambling hardwood floors, the many unbleached linen curtained  windows, etc.

In this home were many items of which I was familiar since I was a very young girl.

For many years there were two barrel chairs sitting in that waiting room. They were bequeathed to me because they had been my grandparents'.  I can trace them back to their sitting in their dining room by the window between a fern.

 Now they are in my home in Florida, sometimes covered with recently worn clothes.

The light inside this house was brilliant, even in the darkness of winter.

 Gee, I miss that particular feeling that accompanies actually returning and being welcome for a moment in a life's time.

GRATITUDE

On one of many treks to Plymouth, Massachusetts, I heard a story about how it was one of my ancestors who came up with the idea of Thanksgiving.

 SHE is not remembered in the history books for this - as an individual, of course.

Since it isn't written anywhere special, the truth of this can not be validated, but as we all know, even in writing, the chances depends on the source and the reason for the information.

Nevertheless, I imaged her, as a woman such as I, who walked through life with a deep sense of gratitude, if only as an after-the-fact conclusion.

In today's world,the discipline of being grateful - and it is a discipline developed - is not so easy.

However, being thankful is a life saving daily ritual for those who love life.

BOWLS

The begging bowl - a practice of ancient Buddhist monks - holds a message worth mentioning.

The monks carried their bowls with them, asking for a little bit of rice as they journeyed through the day.

At the end of the day, back at the monastery, monks expressed gratitude for the contents of their bowls.

This gift of a monk's bowl was adorned with with dragonflies and fired with a lavender ceramic glaze on the inside.

The dragonflies symbolize change of spiritual perspective.

The lavender is the color of Spirit's opening into life experience.

Eating from this monk's bowl  at day's end is to feast at a grand  banquet.