Moved.

Lore's website.

www.breezydaystories.com

Updates are mainly here.

Lore's free ebook.

The Carols of Holly House.

Is it time to change my peppers?

Let's create a haphazard, whimsical kind of blog entry, yes-no?

Change looms. Actually, no... Change is here. It sweeps in on tiny, delicate little winds, in tiny, delicate little ways that I want to believe won't give me a gratuitous smack across face and soul. But yes. They do. Smack away, change! Smack away.

For one thing, after several years of quality and reliability, my computer is being replaced. I expect the new-old one to show up today (it's not new). For almost the last week, I haven't been able to work on any writing. This may not be the computer's fault, not entirely.

Change is also coming in the form of spiritual direction and initiative. I am finally doing something about the uncatalogued mess that is my religious and spiritual efficiencies. My intention(!) is to study more druidism, and, related or not, pay more attention to energies and the moon.

Change is in the furtherance of my technological knowledge! I learned how to create MOBI and EPUB files! While it took me two and a half hours to get all the formatting the way it was supposed to be, my determination and curiosity saw me through! I consider this one of my grandest accomplishments of the last month.

Also, finished writing a book that I first started over two years ago! I'd abandoned it for almost a year, would write in it fitfully and unfaithfully, then finally took the last month to write 123,000 words and complete it! I hate the title, though. I keep hoping some grand title will come along. It is funny how titles are either there before you start writing a piece, or they struggle to unify with the piece even after it's complete. That might just be my psyche.

Cottage life has been pretty dull. It hasn't rained significantly since the start of August, but the eighth month of the year is always the most arid. Cottonwoods are beginning to drop leaves. Some finicky, early-blooming deciduous, like sugar maples and flowering ornamentals, are beginning to show more skin. Lots of the garden flowers look tired, like the red salvia. Strangely, my pansies, planted in April, continue to produce showy blooms. I've wished my strawberries would bloom again, produce another round of fruit, but I think this is a hopeless wish. I have a feeling that strawberries are very recalcitrant and stubborn flowers. This might be why I associate with them so well, of all the flowering fruits.

One more short story of mine is supposed to be coming out in October, in a paperback (I guess?) anthology, and I will relate more details to my numerous readers (ha) when I have them. Two rejections, one significantly more painful than the other and I cannot really figure out why... Usually I just shrug them off after a while, and move on with life. Four short stories released in six months, that's not so bad.

How about I finish up with a recipe? This is an easy, breezy meal good for Indian Summer evenings.

Pepper Pasta

1/2 - 3/4 c. julienne sliced green pepper and sweet red pepper
1/2 c. sliced sweet Vidalia onion
1 medium tomato, chopped
1/2 clove garlic, chopped
2 tbl. vegetable oil
1 1/2 c. pasta, uncooked (or cooked and ready to go)
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. ground pepper (or to taste)
1/2 tsp. dried basil
2 tbl Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (parmesan, or Italian-blend cheese)
1/8 tsp. of dried Italian blend herbs, optional

Pour the 2 tbl of vegetable oil into large skillet. Cook over low-medium heat the peppers and onions until tender. Add garlic and chopped tomato. Make pasta (if necessary); drain. Add pasta to the skillet. Add basil, salt and ground pepper. Heat until hot. Add cheese when serving.

Protein options: Add 3/4 c. diced cooked chicken ... Or add 1/2 drained and rinsed garbanzo beans. Might also be good with tofu, but I've never tried it that way.

Ruled by Zinnias

A few of the zinnias really outdid themselves. Always recommend planting zinnias from zeeds... er... seeds.

 The bee was a nice touch - completely accidental.

Snapdragons have friendly faces. These said "Howdy! Take our picture, too!"

I went out to do weed removal. The ground is hard as rock. Never mind that. I'm sure that weeds die just from me wishing they were dead.

Lughnasadh Gratefulness (and yums)

Ah, long time, no post... HAPPY LUGHNASADH!

Here is the zucchini fried cake recipe that goes with the Hyacinth Noir Lughnasadh Spotlight Issue!

2 cups shredded zucchini (thoroughly drained, especially if from frozen)
2 eggs
1/2 c. all-purpose unbleached flour
1/4 c. finely diced onion
1/8 tsp. dried dill
1/4 tsp. ground pepper

Mix everything together.

Get a pan ready with about 1/4 inch of oil on the bottom. Heat on medium-high.

Drop batter by tablespoonfuls into heated oil. If required, flatten the dough down a little. (I didn't have this problem, although the dough will be lumpy with all that good stuff in it!)

Fry about two minutes on each side. Blot excess oil off with paper (kitchen) towels.

If you'd like to get a little more into the Lughnasadh spirit with this recipe, omit the onion and dill. Fry batter as above. Serve with warm blueberry and strawberry syrup while you celebrate Lugh's day!

***

Also, here is the zucchini bread recipe used in the Lughnasadh issue.

Mix together at high speed, about 1 minute:

¾ c. vegetable oil
2 c. sugar
3 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla extract

Stir in:

2 c. last season’s grated zucchini
20-ounce can crushed pineapple, thoroughly drained

Then mix with:

3c. unbleached all-purpose flour
1 ½ tsp. cinnamon
½ tsp. nutmeg
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
¼ tsp. baking powder
1 c. of raisins and 1 c. nuts are optional (not featured in my photo)

Pour batter into two greased and floured 9 x 5 loaf pans. Bake at 350 degree F (176 degree C) about 75 minutes (1 hour, 15 minutes), checking after the hour mark. To check, insert toothpick in center of loaf. If the toothpick comes out reasonably clean, loaf is done.

This bread has a crispy crust, especially on the top, and will appear pretty brown even when not completely done.






***


I was very happy to write about Lughnasadh for Hyacinth Noir! During our correspondence the last week, I certainly grew aware of their dedication to the grandness that is Hyacinth Noir — and I learned even more about the trickiness and contradictions that come along with being a writer.

For one thing... Whenever you decide to write a piece, a story or an article or even a journal entry, you have to love what you're writing — you have to love writing.

Then, when the piece is complete and it's time to edit, you have to be very objective, and suddenly let yourself dislike what you've worked hard on — just long enough to edit it with a critical and impartial eye (and heart). 

I understand how it's difficult for writers to be objective when it comes to editing their own work. I think this is something that comes with time and practice. You have to allow yourself to do it. I had to rely on myself to be my own editor, there was no one else, and it is not something I would recommend for every creative person. There is a fine line, of course, between knowing what will make a piece you've worked on better, and criticizing yourself too thoroughly that you come to hate everything you do.

The same could be said for baking the zucchini recipes in this entry. Actually, the same could be said for your hobbies and your job.

Well, this Lughnasadh, I grew to be thankful that I was in a position to write the spotlight issue for Hyacinth Noir. I was so honored to be asked, and it was so interesting for me, and I'm so glad I had the chance to do it.

If you don't mind, I think I'll end this entry here. This morning, I wrote 7500 words in a novel I've been working on, and 7900 words yesterday. My arms are tired, and my brain feels as shredded as the squash used in those two recipes.

How the birds do whisper...

I've heard a whisper that I am to have a story in an upcoming anthology! It'll be named, and we'll squee about it later, when the anthology is out and able to be purchased. It's a very exciting thing, though, and I feel like I've been dancing around with ice cream cones under the threads of rainbows, and how can that be bad?

I do have a story of Cottage Life.

Oh, dear, do I ever have a story!

We are the perennial recipients of swallows' nests under one of the porches. The swallows are not much to endure. They're beautiful to watch, and I've grown accustomed to their chirping, their expert funambulism as they perch on lines and preen themselves.

Already this year, Tails had to clean up the rather sad little body of one swallow baby who'd fallen from the nest.

A little more than a week later, I was tested in almost the same way. Except my swallow baby was still alive.

I was downstairs doing laundry, and I kept hearing this "cheep, cheep!" I went out the door to look, and couldn't find anything unusual. I went back to the washer. "Cheep, cheep, cheep!" Then I thought, "Oh, no, the bird is inside!"

So I went back to the door and waited.

"Cheep, cheep, cheep!"

No. It wasn't inside. It was definitely outside.

So I looked again. Of course I hadn't seen it right away, it was very small and more like a heap of dried, cut grass than a living creature.

What a terrible thing! At least it was alive, though.

I walked up to it carefully, trying to test its ability to fly. Its wings flapped helplessly. Tiny wings made of tiny feathers. It wasn't going to get back to where it belonged, and I didn't know what else to do but help it.

Whenever I try and help, I inadvertently make things worse. I was terrified to help, afraid that I'd kill it.

But I put on some thick cleaning gloves, knowing that if I tried, I would've at least tried, and leaving it there to be eaten or die was an option worse than dealing with my curse.

I do not. Do not. Recommend. Doing. This. I do not recommend doing this. It's scary trying to save a little bird.

But I had to chase it around the slab of cement for a little while, into the high grassy area nearby, where I was finally able to get a hold of it. To keep it from walking out of my hand, as it seemed inclined to do, my little funambulist-in-training, I covered it with my other hand in a kind of cage, with my fingers splayed, like Gandalf holding the moth. (Now, don't be coy with your geekiness, you know what I'm talking about.) I checked around to find its nest among the rafters of the porch above my head. It's kind of hidden, tucked away behind an aluminum sheet, and not easy to find with the naked eye bothered by sunny glare and dirty spectacles.

I unfolded my hands carefully to check on the baby bird. It'd hunkered into my fingers and closed its eyes. It must've thought, "Oh, right, a parent is on me now and I will just rest! Phew, glad that's over!" It was cute...

After a few more seconds of frantic searching, I finally found an opening between beams and sheet that I could wrench my hand into. At first, the bird was reluctant. I pulled my gloved hand out, little birdie and all, afraid I'd squish him. Then, bravely, I tried again. This time it hopped out, as if it knew exactly where it was!

Now, I was relieved! I waited a few seconds to be sure it didn't fall out again. Then I went upstairs, breathing heavily, and washed the gloves in a solution of diluted bleach, and washed my hands with soap and water.

Through the evening, I checked to be sure the baby bird wasn't again on the ground. It wasn't. I could hear its lone cheep, cheep as its parents swooped in to drop morsels in its beak.

I felt I'd done something good. And the important part is that I tried to do something good.

This is kind of what it looked like. (From Keepers Cottage Wildlife Garden Diary)

The Floral Army Keeps Watch

I am spending a small fortune on flowers, and amassing an Army of Daring Posies. They've bivouacked in the garden for the summer.

It is less unappealing than it used to be to whack into the earth with the point of a hoe. Loosening dirt is genuine action. It combats inner inertia. Life has shoved conflicts in my face, disabling the Writing Me and bringing out the She Who Must Deal with Everything Else. I'm tired of her. I'm taking up the welcome mat; she needs to go. Writing Me should be back soon. She cries when too long in repose, stifled and ignored.

The Fairies' Crossing

Since I'm around, I should post that Lore has a new story up. This one is also on Hyacinth Noir, the emag for the LGBT Pagan/Wiccan. Yes, you know you want to look because it really is as interesting as it sounds....


Beltaine Literary Issue | The Fairies' Crossing by Lore Lippincott


Good for Lore!

No words yet on any of our outstanding submissions... So back to our gardening and eating and renaming of formerly finished manuscripts....

And some of this...