Spam and Rice

Simple food, simple joy comfort food, comfort, full stop.

Easy to make, made with love, for the taste, for those who will taste, it, tasty treat, simple, good.

Rice cooker steams, warms the kitchen. The crackle as the frying pan fries, little meaty cubes, sizzle sizzle sizzle; something like bacon, tho’ not as much grease, but much the same salty, savory taste.

Mix ‘em up, nice and hot, stir it up, bowl after bowl, plate after plate, delicious it’s true, delicious, for you.

Simple, soothing, in your head, on the spoon, more than just food, joy, comfort, good.

Lyrics Post: “Here and Heaven”

Just what is it, a Goat Rodeo? According to a Slang Dictionary,

“A goat rodeo is a slang term for something going totally, unbelievably, disastrously wrong, and there’s nothing left to do but to sit back and watch the trainwreck.

In other words, a goat rodeo is a chaotic situation, fiasco, or, more vulgarly, a shitshow. And yes, there are also literal goat rodeos. 🐐”

And so “Goat Rodeo Sessions”, the name given to a collection of songs put together by four musicians, adding a fifth for a few songs.

The result is something wonderful. The blend of players and inspiration and fun and joy. Just what music should be.

Lyrics, one of the few songs given lyrics,

“With a hammer and nails and a fear of failure
We are building a shed
Between here and heaven between the wait and the wedding
For as long as we both shall be dead
To the world, beyond the boys and the girls
Trying to keep us calm
We can practice our lines ’til we’re deaf and blind
To ourselves to each other where it’s
Fall, not winter; Spring, not summer; Cool, not cold
And it’s warm, not hot, have we all forgotten that we’re getting old
With an arrow and bow and some seeds left to sow
We are staking our claim
On ground so fertile we forget who we’ve hurt along
The way and reach out for a strange hand to hold
Someone strong but not bold enough to
Tear down the wall
‘Cause we ain’t lost enough to find the stars ain’t
Crossed why align them why fall hard, not soft into
Fall not winter spring not summer cool not cold
Where it’s warm, not hot have we all forgotten that we’re getting old
And it’s Fall, not winter; Spring, not summer; Cool, not cold
And it’s warm, not hot, has everyone forgotten that we’re getting old
And it’s Fall, not winter; Spring, not summer; Cool, not cold
And it’s warm, not hot, have we all forgotten that we’re getting old?”

Song Writers: Stuart Ian Duncan / Aoife Maria O’donovan / Edgar Meyer / Christopher Thile

Here and Heaven lyrics © Chris Thile Music, Cosmic Seed Music, Yerba Azul Music

Blog Snippet: Two for One, Tuesday

Yesterday, ha! Had forgotten a post was already written, scheduled; didn’t see the app updated with it listed. So wrote another, set it up to launch, that made two blog posts for one day.

No matter, double the good for the day, 2 is better than none, gotta say. Fun to write, everyday.

Feel more love, share more love, the goal anyway. So these lines the post for this day, Wednesday, woulda worked on any day.

Little rhythm, a little time, end it with Hip Hip Hooray~

Mindset: COVID

Like living with cancer. LIVING WITH CANCER.

Acceptance. It sometimes does not go away. Sometimes we have to live with it.

Like this pandemic. Living with COVID. All the new realities.

Like cancer: accept; evaluate; adjust; go forward.

GO FORWARD. This life is meant to be lived; this life is meant to be experienced; live them; create them; soak them up.

Ocean Therapy

I always seem to forget the value, the worth, the peace, of Ocean Therapy. Just being there, that’s all it really takes.

The breeze, the water, the sound, the constant, demands attention, quietly, consistently, relentlessly there, of of it, insistent.

How long could I sit there? One hour, six, twelve? Sun up until sunset? Waiting, listening, relentless, constant, unwavering, those waves. And so what?

What’s in your mind, it slowly gives way, slowly, ever slowly, then maybe suddenly? It goes the way, it goes away, it falls away, you’re left spent, empty, and yet full, too.

Of the sounds and the breeze and the water, all, much is said, need not be. The ocean, constant, insistent, quietly, therapy.

Moonlight

Moonlight, bright light, midway in the sky. Bright light begins the journey east to west, near full, light the way.

Six year old says it shines because of the sun, reflecting, her sister told her so. Bright light in the night sky, light the backyard campsite, keep us company throughout the night.

Keep us company throughout the night, show us the path home through the darkness, faint light on the flat stones, the way home.

Where is home? Under the moonlight, with my family, every night.

Some Devil, Some Grace

It’s a particular feeling, a particular strength needed, when your partner is struggling.

When she struggles, it effects you, no wonder; how can it not? Those who don’t feel it, maybe they don’t feel, the same.

When your partner struggles, seems put out, spun out, you’re on the outs too. He doesn’t want what you want. What does he want? Maybe it’s not clear.

What is clear? The devil’s in the room, maybe right there next to you, you might feel, hear his breath. Shallow, steady, patient.

What to do? Dread might drip in, slow drip, drops, relentless. “Get behind me, Satan,” that’s a good start. Don’t accept the negative, the poison in the room.

Take the High Road, Grace, find it, where is it, it’s there, faint, hard to find maybe, but it’s there. Take that road, you know the one, know the way.

Be friendly, be pleasant. Say please, and thank you, and if you please. Not insistent, instead, consistent.

The High Road, choose it, Grace, even when slighted, when you get the silent. Treatment? Be the treat, not the trick. Don’t be tricky, be steady, instead expect of yourself, be your best self, each hour, day.

Make it that way. You meet the Devil, answer with Grace.

GOOD.

Connected?

Seems to me this idea’s come up before, seems to me it’s fundamental, being connected.

It’s a technical thing on the one hand, “…VPN reconnecting…” tells you how fast you’ll need to work to catch-up, seconds, minutes tick by, the birds chirping in the yard a gentle solace.

My children’s images on my screen, telling me it will be ok; ok overall, but as the moments tick by, a reboot looms, save your work.

Connected, reconnected, I long for the touch, a sense of belonging and place and purpose. Not sure why it’s so important, so integral to calm, satisfied peace of mind.

Weekend’s better for this; better to hone the skill to get there at will, connected. Feel it when we’re together, falling asleep together, waking up together, laughing together, smiling, living together.

Longing, searching, yearning, wanting, to understand, how to connect. My family the salve, time granted, invested.

Another summer weekend, another Friday, Saturday night camping with the kids in the back yard.

Together. CONNECTED.

A.M.D.G.

Ad maiorem Dei gloriam or Ad majórem Dei glóriam, also rendered as the abbreviation AMDG, is the Latin motto of the Society of Jesus, an order of the Catholic Church.

It means “For the greater glory of God.”

On this thirty-first day of July, designated by The Church as a feast day to celebrate Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits.

Let it be so, that we seek God in all things; let it be so, that each action be a reflection of that journey, that goal.

And when we fall short — and no doubt we will — let us reset to this simple pledge, this simply commitment Ignatius expressed near 500 years ago.

“Ad majórem Dei glóriam.”

Lyrics Post: “Winds of Change” – Scorpions

Thirty years ago this song came out. It spoke to the times, spoke of change, spoke of one person’s experience, mirroring the feelings of many. Including me. I was deep in that time of change. I had walked the same paths. Wondering. Longing. Wanting.

Thirty years later, the song still captures that time, that hope, that belief that change is possible.

And then I heard this news: there’s rumor that actually the CIA wrote the song’s lyrics, and fave the song to the band to help move along the end of the Soviet Union. Verdict’s still out on that one!

But whether written by the CIA or rock musicians from Hannover, the message is the same:

Change is possible for the better. Winds of change guide us. Let us follow together.

Winds of Change

I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
An August summer night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the wind of change

The world is closing in
Did you ever think
That we could be so close, like brothers
The future’s in the air
I can feel it everywhere
Blowing with the wind of change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the wind of change

Walking down the street
Distant memories
Are buried in the past forever
I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the wind of change

The wind of change
Blows straight into the face of time
Like a stormwind that will ring the freedom bell
For peace of mind
Let your balalaika sing
What my guitar wants to say

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
in the wind of change

Writer(s): Klaus Meine