The faceless, nameless “they”...they, who appear to be everywhere, often say to anyone who bothers to listen; “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
The proverbial phrase is supposed to encourage optimism, positivity etc.
(The people of the world certainly need bucket-loads of the latter, at present, particularly if some continue to act like brainless idiots.
History...the good parts, and the bad parts, can’t be erased; should not be erased; neither the good, nor the bad should be erased. What purpose would doing either, serve?
We are taught...or, at least, most of us are...from a young age...to learn from our mistakes; and, as we progress in life we should be aware enough to learn from our mistakes. It is human to make mistakes. I certainly have made more than my share of them throughout my life...and my life is not yet over.....
Also, we should continue to learn from the good we’ve done, and do, in our lives...that, too, should continue. In my humble opinion, the above are the most sensible lessons to follow.
The ignorant fools who are...in this country, and elsewhere throughout the world...defacing statues, and/or knocking them down, are proving they have not learned a thing from history...not the good...not the bad. Those fools are too foolish...too ignorant...to realise how foolish...how ignorant they really are. Each and every one is a joke of the highest order. Their actions leave much to be desired...very much)
I admit openly and honestly, I haven’t always followed
the rules, or phrases, or what “they” tell me to do. Some
things don’t, and won’t change.....
When life...meaning....when my little lemon tree springs into
life, and shares its bounty with me...I don’t make lemonade.
Instead, I take the lazier, but healthier
route. I juice my lemons every morning
along with oranges and/or other citrus fruits I have on hand at the time. I’ve
written about my juicy squeezing previously...my apologies for repeating
myself. What a juicy life I lead!
My lemons aren’t lemons, though. There’s nothing
defective about them. They are perfect,
yellow containers of juicy juice.
Sadly, the season is now at an end. My generous tree
is preparing to have a well-earned rest until next year. Only a couple of small, green fruit remain on
its branches, ripening slowly, but surely.
Come September, as I always do each year, I’ll spread fertiliser around
its base. I’ll then wait patiently (impatiently) for its next bountiful, juicy
crop. Of course, in the meantime, my
fruit bowls will bear fruit, even if they don’t actually bear the fruit. The fruit will be store-bought. My life would be unfulfilled if it wasn’t
filled with fresh fruit!
When I was a kid I never had to be forced or cajoled
into eating fruit. I’ve always loved
fruit of all varieties. Such fun it was
raiding our loquat tree, which grew in one corner of our front yard, and the
mulberry tree up the back. Purple
fingers and lips were always dead giveaways we’d been feasting on
mulberries. Plump red strawberries, planted by our mother, also
grew in our garden when the season was right for strawberry runners to run free, and produce.
While on the subject of fruit....the mention of fruit, particularly citrus fruit has turned my thoughts to my late brother...
One Sunday when my brother, Graham was around 12
years old, he and his mate, who lived next door (whose father was one
of the local Gympie cops)...had a sneaky feed of slightly under-ripe Poorman
oranges, believing them to be Valencia oranges.
The lads nicked the fruit from a tree around the
corner and down the road a bit...if you know what I mean! The tree was in someone else’s backyard.
“Stolen fruit is the sweetest!” The fruit they gobbled wasn’t so sweet,
though. Both lads ate a lot of it, too...more than their fill. Forbidden fruit is desirable, but unlawful. The consequences for falling prey to both must be faced!
That very same night my brother was raced off to
hospital to undergo an emergency operation to have his appendix removed. Eating
an abundance of under-ripe, stolen, forbidden fruit had stirred things up inside him quite
a bit. The pain he felt struck hard and
fast.
An immediate appendectomy was
necessary. His inflamed appendix was
disposed of, post haste.
Being the "little sister", so often I was the prey...the victim of my brother's teasing, and boyish sense of humour....put on this earth solely for his entertainment!
I made the most
of the time my brother spent in hospital, incapacitated. Finally,
for once, he, the tormentor, was at my mercy; the worm had turned. ..in my favour!
Helpless, unable to escape my childish high jinks,
in his infirm state, he was my captive. How
I loved making him laugh! Acting the clown, I had so much fun. (Hospitals, churches, meetings and other such places where one is supposed to be sombre and behave one's self do that to me).
Graham demanded
Mum and Nana not bring me with them to the hospital. I was having great enjoyment acting the fool,
clowning around, making him laugh.
What a twisted kid I was, relishing the chance to be
the teaser for change. (Perhaps I was the inspiration for the heavy metal band "Twisted Sister" to choose that name for their band!!)
Because of his sore stomach, it hurt Graham when he
laughed.
For a brief moment in time when my wounded, bed-ridden big brother
couldn’t retaliate, the shoes were on the other feet...mine! He was my prisoner! I had the upper-hand. I was only trying to lighten things up a bit...brighten the sterile, hospital atmosphere!
Aware my time being in control was limited, being
able to be the circus clown for a change I made the most of my ‘window’...I made hay while the sun shone, and when the hospital lights were on, too.
Before long, however,
he was once again fit and ready to be the boss on the battlefield of our
backyard!
The bows and arrows were
taut and ready; broomstick horses grazed, eager for the charge to begin; the wagons were
circled; water pistols were loaded.
Every time I drive to and from our local supermarket I pass by
the area where my brother’s ashes were spread..
Each time I pass by the area that looks down to the valley below and across to the western range, I acknowledge
my brother...my loss...and the love I still feel for him...along with the same feelings, emotions, for our late mother
and grandmother.
We were the Four Musketeers. Together, we faced many hurdles...some were won...some were lost...
Memories remain...
The curtain is slowly descending on the
dying day
Proudly the sun bows giving an encore display
Its cloak of many colours whetting our appetite
As it languishes after a spectacle of brightness
How rapidly the hue changes as we gasp in awe
From blue to grey, merging gently into purple
Tinges of pink, flashes of crimson and orange
A potpourri of colour unable to be recaptured
Proudly the sun bows giving an encore display
Its cloak of many colours whetting our appetite
As it languishes after a spectacle of brightness
How rapidly the hue changes as we gasp in awe
From blue to grey, merging gently into purple
Tinges of pink, flashes of crimson and orange
A potpourri of colour unable to be recaptured
Birds in final flight safely wend their
way to nest
Tools laid to rest men tread wearily on their way
Home before the departure of the fiery gilded orb
A prelude to darkness encompasses land and sea
Afterglow openly teases as we grasp the remnant
Of the dying day in readiness of what lies ahead
Tools laid to rest men tread wearily on their way
Home before the departure of the fiery gilded orb
A prelude to darkness encompasses land and sea
Afterglow openly teases as we grasp the remnant
Of the dying day in readiness of what lies ahead
Suddenly\engulfed in stillness in sombre light
Moment's depression witnessing a farewell salute
Moment's depression witnessing a farewell salute
Day is replaced as the heavens magicallycome alive
Sparkling phosphorescence dancing gaily above
Sparkling phosphorescence dancing gaily above
Quietness descends as the mysteries of night unfold
Thoughts of the past, present, of what may lay ahead
Envelop final lingering moments as sleep takes hold
A new day awaits backstage hidden behind the drapes
Adventures to explore some unknown some the same
Beginning afresh shared with players in Life's game
Steamed
Orange Pudding: Grease an 8 cup-capacity metal pudding steamer;
line base with baking paper. Using electric mixer beat 185g softened butter,
3/4c caster sugar and 2tsp finely grated orange rind until light and fluffy.
Add 3 eggs, one at a time, beating to combine. Sift 1-1/2c S.R. flour over
mixture; add 1/2c milk. Fold until just combined. Spoon mixture into steamer.
Smooth top. Secure lid. Place in large saucepan. Carefully pour boiling water
into pan until halfway up side of steamer. Cover pan. Place over med-heat.
Bring to boil. Reduce heat to low. Simmer 1-1/2hrs’ top up with boiling water
when necessary. Make syrup: Combine 1/4c
orange juice and 1/2c caster sugar in saucepan over med-heat. Cook, stirring
until sugar dissolves (do not boil); then bring to the boil; reduce heat to low.
Simmer until thick and syrupy. Remove from heat. Add orange segments from 2
peeled oranges. Remove pan from heat. Carefully lift steamer from water; stand
10mins. Turn onto a plate; spoon over syrup. Serve with cream.
Lemon
Roasted Garlic Spinach Dip: Preheat oven 175C. Squeeze excess moisture from 400g
thawed spinach. In pan heat 1tbs
olive oil; warm 1 head roasted garlic (about 8 cloves) and lemon wedges from
half a lemon (wedge half; slice other half). Cook gently until garlic is soft
and warm and lemon is breaking down into very soft pieces. In bowl mix 1/c sour cream, 240g
cream cheese, 155g Laughing Cow cheese or other soft cheese and 1/3c grated
parmesan; add 1tsp smoked paprika, 1/2c mozzarella and 1/2c gouda. Fold in roasted garlic and spinach. Place in an ovenproof dish; top with
1/c shredded mozzarella, 1/2c shredded gouda, lemon slices and fresh thyme
leaves. Bake until topping is golden, about 20mins.
