A Place to Nourish Your Soul

"You mix it with your love and emotion to create magic. Through cooking, you raise your spiritual level and balance yourself in a world that is materialistic." Laura Esqiuvel, Like Water for Chocolate

Everyone has a favorite room in their house. Mine is the kitchen, though, it wasn't always so. Several lifetimes ago, as I approached my wedding day, my then-future husband began suggesting that perhaps I should be spending time with my mother learning how to cook. I brushed off his increasing insistence, saying, "If I can read, I can cook."

After we'd been married for a few months, he confessed his parents had been teasing him, telling him he would starve once we were married since I didn't know how to cook. "Just a pretty face," my future father-in-law had said, "That isn't going to keep you from getting hungry."

I must admit for the first few months of our marriage we did exist mostly on love. My meals were definitely substandard, but dear Will quickly learned not to tell me so. Ah, discretion, another secret of a long, happy marriage. But that's a subject for another time…

Gradually, my skills improved until even my in-laws, especially my father-in-law, looked forward to coming to Sunday dinners at our house. Still, it wasn't until I returned to work that I truly realized my kitchen as a refuge and my spiritual place. I'd come home frazzled by all the work politics and problems, too tired to cook, I'd think, until I started to prepare the food.      

I began to notice that by the time dinner was ready to put on the table, a smoothing of my frayed nerves had occurred. The simple task of making a salad, peeling potatoes, or stirring the spaghetti sauce became the respite I needed to reflect on the day and my life.

A few years ago, I bought a small book entitled The Mindful Cook by Isaac Cronin. Cronin says "you can nourish your soul, develop your mind, and eat well at the same time!" That sentence, as well as, the rest of this neat tome gave me a new perspective on the everyday task of time in the kitchen.

The idea of combining those three elements into necessary tasks intrigued me. And the author gave what I already knew a voice and a mindfulness I didn't realize was possible - that by intentionally putting myself in a spiritual frame of mind, my kitchen would be even more the place where I could always retreat and find harmony.

Here's some tips on how you, too, can bring mindfulness to your cooking:

1. Make the kitchen uniquely yours by adding a color you especially like. My favorite is teal and the backsplash is the area I see most.
2. Put favorite pictures or paintings where you can view them while you're preparing food. I've placed pictures of my two sets of grandchildren, over my stove so I can send them my love, thoughts, and prayers. Somehow, I know those thoughts do fly across the miles to kiss them even though my positive regard may not be consciously received.
3. Be fully present by centering on one task at a time. Multitasking may be in vogue, but it's definitely overrated and more stressful!
4. Mentally quiet yourself so you can really see the color of deep red summer tomatoes, smell the pungent aroma of rosemary, and feel the texture of  papery parchment covered onions.
5. Be good to yourself even if it's a meal for one. In the early Julia Child TV shows (I'm talking black and white here, at least at my house), once the meal was ready, she sat down alone, wine glass in hand, to eat and savor what she'd prepared. 

So, whether you're toasting a bagel, making sticky buns (one of my favorites), or roasting a turkey, eating alone or with others, you can bring spiritual nourishment to the kitchen and table. Somehow, the food tastes even better when mixed with joy and mindfulness.

Bon Appetit!

A Writers’ Conference for All the Write Reasons

"I'm going to write because I cannot help it." Charlotte Bronte  

At the Philadelphia Writer's Conference this past weekend (June 11 – 13), Loretta Barrett, of Loretta Barrett Books, used almost the same words in describing writers she represents. She and Charlotte are right. Writing is what we do because we must. We love it and yet, sometimes resent it when we think of all the other things we could be doing like going to the beach, shopping, or just hanging out. Sometimes, we ask ourselves why we choose to do something that can be so frustrating, but then, we have one of those moments when the words come easy or when we're able to pull exactly what we need from our gut. Those moments are rare for me, so I often have to slog through. Still, I can't not write.

Going to a writers' conference is a wonderful way to refresh, renew, and share your passion for your craft. It's especially nice to talk to other writers and get some of their advice. For example, the first morning I was sitting in the hotel lobby, a woman sat down near me and asked, "Are you working on your pitch?"
"Yes," I said.
She smiled, and said, "Want to try it out on me? I've done this before – successfully."
Her advice included the following:

1. Describe your story in one sentence that includes the character, her goal, and the conflict that prevents her achieving that goal.
2. Tell what makes it different from other books.
3. Take a note card with a few key points.
4. Show enthusiasm and belief in your book.

One of my main goals in attending was to try to sell my novel, Bellehaven. Armed with the advice of my lobby angel, I was ready, though nervous, to speak to an agent. The process at a conference is a lot like speed dating (although I've never experienced that first hand!). It offers an all too brief opportunity to make a favorable impression and hopefully hear an agent say the magic words, "Send me 60 pages and your synopsis. I'd like to take a look at it."
This year, success! I was able to pitch my book well enough to have an agent and a publisher ask to see a portion of my novel. Now all I have to do is write a letter, review and refine my first 60 pages, polish my synopsis, and get it all in the mail. It's a wonderful, but scary prospect.

The greatest thing about a writers' conference, besides the energy the gathering garners and the knowledgeable workshop presenters (all successful writers), is the pleasure of talking to fellow writers. Take business cards and use the time between workshops to meet as many writers as you can. You'll find lots of people have knowledge they can share, whether it be about the art of writing or the business side.

Participate in everything offered. Register early enough to send manuscripts for professional critiquing by workshop leaders, as well as, entries for the contests in your category. Consider trying another genre, too, like writing a poem or an essay if you normally write fiction. Check out the Wall contests if the conference offers them. These are all one page submissions that you pin to the wall. Flash fiction, nonfiction, and poetry are the three categories. If you're like me, you'll be tired and ready to rest just about the time of night when the rap sessions begin. Fortunately for me, I had a friend who insisted that I "go for just a little while." Once there, the process energized me enough to stay for the whole session.

The keynote speaker, Larry Kane, Philadelphia TV anchor, opened the conference by telling us his writing journey, one that included traveling with the Beatles on their first American tour. At the time, he was 21 and reluctant to go. He thought it was more important to stay at home to report on the Cuban crisis than to go "off with a band no one would remember three months later." His editor's insistence that he go on the tour changed the trajectory of his career. What direction would his life had taken if he had skipped that experience? Sitting there listening, I thought how his story sounded more like fiction than real life. I guess John Lennon said it best in one of his songs: "Life is just what happens when you're busy making other plans."

What Larry Kane experienced was unusual. Most of us don't have something that amazing come along to help propel us toward success. We have to make our own breaks. Going to a writers' conference can be a tool to help us.

Lyric from Beautiful Boy by John Lennon. Available at: http://www.beatles.ws/songa-e.htm.

Airport Musing: Passing the time and pondering the prosaic

When we looked for flights to Charlotte, North Carolina, we knew we wanted to avoid the Philadelphia airport at all costs. Living on the New Jersey coast, shooting down the Garden State Parkway sans lights and heavy traffic to the Atlantic City airport seemed worth it even though we had to change planes in Atlanta. Although we still had to leave our Island sanctuary, we could travel to and from the airport without going too far inland.

Our youngest daughter, Sandy, who travels a great deal, never does connections. She always opts for a direct commute or what some people refer to as a "nonstop" flight. My husband, Will, likes to emphasize that there's no such thing as "nonstop" since sooner or later the plane has to stop. Old joke, and one that's not that funny, but I give the obligatory half chuckle, half groan each time he says it. After all, it's those little concessions that keep a relationship going.

It had been a while since I'd flown and I'd forgotten how deadening a layover in an airport can be, especially when the book you've brought doesn't turn out to be that good and you've played enough rummy to last a lifetime. Besides, you're in a losing streak. No fun to lose (or win!) all the time. Our three hour layover wasn't going as fast as I'd thought it would.

Initially, I enjoyed the people watching - so many people, in so many sizes, shapes, and colors, so many different languages spoken so rapidly on cell phones. I saw enough different laptops and notebooks to stock a megastore. If all these folks could pool their resources, they could help stimulate the economy. After a while, everyone seems to wear the same harried look.

Checking my watch, I realize we still have an hour before we board. What can we do now? I turn to Will and suggest we brainstorm ideas for future blogs. We started out slowly and proceeded to silly, but perhaps it was delirium setting in?

We began to make up a list of unimportant questions like:

• Why does it seem so many overweight people eat cottage cheese? Is that what is causing the problem?
• Does a black dress really make you thinner? Sexier? More sophisticated? Or is the aura of the "little black dress" just one of those myths propagated by some fashion designer stuck with a lot of black material?
• What are all these people thinking while they sit and wait as we do?
• How many coffees could I drink while waiting for our plane to come in?
• What's the most popular single item in all these carryon bags?
• How many bars are in Concourse C?
• Will the two men with oversize bags get to take them on the plane? And if so, will they manage to stuff them in the overhead?

I cannot take credit for this entire sampling of questions because the woman sitting on the other side of Will joined in. She, too, was waiting for the plane to Charlotte and was as bored as we were. As often happens in an airport, we quickly shared some of our life story with her. She, too, is a blogger. Her blog site is travlintracey@blogspot.com. Check her out. She is one of those rare individuals born, raised, and still living in Florida which prompted another question: Where have all the native Floridians gone? Tracey contributed this question when we expressed amazement at her brief telling of her life story. I thought it was noteworthy because during our winter sojourn in Florida, at least 90% of the people we met were from somewhere else.

One last question: Would I do the layover thing again now that I found how long it seems? Or will I opt for the busy Philadelphia or Newark airport and a nonstop (except for the landing!) next time? Hands down, I'll go for the small Atlantic City airport and the layover. Next time, however, I'll take extra books, a bigger notebook to write in, and possibly brush up on my poker skills.

Every Cliché has a Silver Lining

After several months away in sunny Florida, I looked at my office with fresh eyes and decided to sort through my bookcase. Deciding which books to donate and which to keep is always a hard choice for me. Books are for me what shoes are to my eldest daughter. Still, I vowed, this time, I would be ruthless. I grabbed a paperback entitled, "The Dictionary of Cliches, Over 2,000 entries," off the top shelf. Easy, I thought, this is one easy choice since not using clichés has always been emphasized in writing courses, writers' magazines and my writers' groups. As writers, we're challenged, instead, to new ways of saying things rather than lazily using clichés.

Still, I was curious. After all, the author, James Rogers, had found clichés noteworthy enough to collect and publish them in dictionary form. I opened the book. Generally, Rogers agreed, clichés are fairly considered overworked and banal ways of expression. But, he asserts, "clichés can serve as the lubricant of language: summing up a point or a situation, easing a transition in thought, adding a seasoning of humor to a discourse."
I continued to read and quickly became immersed in the whole concept of what makes a cliché a cliché, where they originated, and how, if used wisely, they might actually enhance my writing. Here's some of what I learned.

What is a cliché? A cliché is language that's lost its originality, been overused over time, or a new phrase that's been repeated too often. All we have to do is watch the news and hear phrases like "connect the dots," or "at the end of the day," to know it isn't not only old phrases like "butter wouldn't melt in her mouth" (first coined in 1546) or "footloose and fancy free" (first uttered by Will Shakespeare in A Midsummer Night's Dream) that qualify as worn-out expressions.

Origin of clichés. When I began reading the entries, I couldn't stop. Many, I found, were Biblical in nature ("Makes your hair stand on end, Job 4:13-14), while others were from great literature and poetry ("A horse of a different color," Twelfth Night – Shakespeare, once again). Here's a sampling of where some others began.
A-OK: Coined by a NASA official in 1961 to indicate that the mission was going well.
Between you and me and the lamppost: The first recorded use was by Charles Dickens (Nicholas Nickleby,1839). 
Cried all the way to the bank: Liberace used this phrase in his 1973 autobiography.
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth: A Latin version of this expression appeared in a work by St. Jerome in A.D. 420.
Throw the baby out with the bath water: Used more than once by George Bernard Shaw. One example was in 1909 (Pen Portraits and Reviews).

When to use clichés. Like Rogers, I believe there are instances where clichés are appropriate and can actually help move your story forward or help catch the reader's attention.

As titles. Consider the cliché "time to kill." John Grisham put that cliché to good use in his book, A Time to Kill. or, "saving grace," as evidenced by Julie Garwood's bestseller, Saving Grace, as well as, Burden of Proof (Scott Turow) and Stone Cold and True Blue, both by David Baldacci, one of my personal favorite mystery writers.

As a title with a twist. The title of this blog, for example, uses a cliché with a twist by substituting "cloud" with the word "cliché." This works especially well, I think, in an opinion humor piece. A title can also be twisted by substituting a synonym for one of the words in a cliché. Something like "Beyond the pail," or "make head or tale of it," or "the American weigh." I haven't written any of these articles, but I can picture the first as a woman with morning sickness, a compulsive liar as the second, or a look at obesity in the third, a really heavy (excuse the pun, please) topic right now. Another example is Jodi Picoult's book, "My Sister's Keeper," altered from the original cliché, "my brother's keeper."

As a way to make a point with as few words as possible. The columnist, George Will, for example, wrote an article in which he said the Chicago Cubs fans support their team "through thin and thin." In fiction, a term like "Trojan horse" can encompass an entire concept that could require several paragraphs to explain that could distract from the main fiber of the story.

As a tool to show minor characters without a lot of verbiage. Letting a minor character use some clichés can help develop a personality without a lot of description.

As a marker of a particular era. Allowing a minor character to use a phrase like "the cat's meow," helps the reader to visualize the 1920's.

Caution: It takes some skill to know "when to hold them and when to fold them," clichés, that is. For example, while they can help "flesh out" minor characters, allowing main characters to do the same creates a stereotypical, flat character, so avoid that "like the plague." So, "when in doubt, leave them out," or run them by your writers' group. For now, I'm going to put my cliché dictionary back on the shelf. It's earned a spot in my reference library.

Seashore Seasons of Life

The choices we make influence so much of our lives, choices like the places we choose to be and live. Living by the sea on an island was one of those choices that created so much of that influence for me. When I look back on my life, I can't help but compare it to the seasons of the seashore.


In the spring of my life, the seashore served as a backdrop for my yearnings, especially my dreams of romantic love. In that time, there were so many false starts - kisses without substance on a moonlit beach - made all the more lonely because the nights were so beautiful. Then the promises of the sea became mine. I met my soul mate and the promises whispered by the waves became a reality.

That was the spring of my life.


Summer came with a bright and blazing intensity - my childbearing years. Days replaced starlit nights in importance. And sunny days were filled with sand buckets, snacks, and suntan lotion to protect tender skin. Vigilance was the keyword during the summer season of my life as I watched the little ones skitter on the beach, much like little sandpipers. Later, bobbing in the surf. Then later, I played the watchful waiting game while they visited places with names like the Tide, the Ketch, the Shell - places with sea-like names, but completely alien from my beloved sea.

That was the summer of my life.


Now I'm in the autumn of my ocean watching. This season is calm, still warm kissed by the remembered intensity of the summer sun. Relaxed now, I watch my grands hurl themselves toward the incoming tide, calm because I know the children of my summer are in their summers - secure in their own lives and loves. I am tranquil and filled with peace in the fall season as I clasp the hand of my spring season lover, my companion in three seashore seasons.



I find I want to hold this season more than I have ever wanted to hold any other season in my life. This September song grows more poignant, more precious than any other, for the sun-warmed sea still holds a strong whisper of summer, and the remembrance of the everlasting promise of spring.

This is the autumn of my life.



I do not know what lies ahead of me as I push away the thought of the approaching winter of my life. I do know God has been good to me through these three seasons. Perhaps the best has been saved for last. I will find out if I get to spend my winter by the sea. In any case, I realize life has its cycle, and whatever comes, life will continue, and future generations will carry at least a small piece of me through their seashore seasons.

Coining New Words and Reinventing Old Ones

There's nothing more fun than a play on words, or trying to invent new ones. My daughter sent me this and I thought you might like to read about this contest, the Mensa Invitational, sponsored by the Washington Post. Readers are challenged to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

The winners are:

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.

2. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.

3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

5.. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people which stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n.): The gruelling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that getsinto your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.

The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words.

And the winners are:

1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.

3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

4. esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.

6. Negligent, adj. Absent mindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown .

7. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism, n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent, n. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

A Celebration of Life

It's a celebration, it's a celebration
Celebrate good times, come on!
Celebrate good times, come on!

There's a party goin' on right here
A celebration that'll last throughout the year
Shall bring you good times, and good laughter too
We're gonna celebrate your party with you
Come on now
Celebration - we're gonna celebrate and have a good time



Celebration -We're gonna celebrate and have a good time, celebration - we're gonna celebrate and have a good time
It's time to come together
It's up to you, what's your pleasure
Everyone around the world Come on!!

It's a celebration! It's a celebration!
Celebrate good times, come on!
Celebrate good times, come on!

(Julia is the one in the center, with "76" on her shirt)

On Tuesday evening, January 5th, I perched close to the TV to watch the halftime show at the Orange Bowl. Why? Not because I'm a football fan, but because my granddaughter, Julia, was dancing with about 900 others in a circle around Kool and the Gang. Despite the numbers on the field, I had hopes of being able to single her out.

A silly thought, I know, but we grandmothers often are beyond hopeful in our thinking. Especially when it comes to our dear grands. Maybe because it's one of the least complicated relationships in the universe. They are. We love. So simple.

As I sat there, watching the joyous movement, I realized how apropos the song was for the moment. "Celebration" is one of those songs woven into the fabric of my life, so much so that I was sure I had danced to it in the '60's. Apparently not. When I headed to Google, I found this iconic song came out in the '80's, although Kool and the Gang had been around since the late '60's.
Still, what could be more natural in the evolution of life than to see Julia dancing to the song that I'd been dancing to with wild abandonment for close to thirty years? Knowing the child of my child was dancing to "Celebration" with Kool and the Gang live exemplified the continuity of life and perhaps, little hint of immortality for me.

I had hoped she was savoring the moment even more than I was watching it. When I received the picture above, I could see her pleasure in moving to the beat and that was only the rehearsal. Later, my daughter told me the swirl of dancers around the stage was supposed to signify a record spinning. It went far beyond an inanimate object such as that. It was so much more alive and electric.

To Julia, and to all who may read this post, my wishes for your continued "Celebration" of life.

lyrics can be found at http://www.songlyrics.com/.