The Giving Spirit Behind the BryonySeries Cookbook

One of the marvelous elements of initiating a creative--rather than strictly commercial--fiction endeavor is the enormouis amount of freedom for auxiliary projects. Even as I was writing the first draft for Bryony, I was planning a fundraising cookbook. Also, as a former Big Sister for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties, I knew which organization would be its recipient.

I've shared three pieces below. One is the cookbook's introduction, which allows you to "meet" the wonderful woman who inspired my idea for a cookbook, as well as how Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties fits into the BryonySeries theme.

The second is the cookbook's dedication, which expresses my viewpoint on anyone who makes a significant, positive difference in the life of a child. The third is a story in today's Herald News Progress Edition about the cover artist for the 2012 holiday edition of Visage, a man that has been a Big Brother for six years. Read that story HERE.

All proceeds from the sale of Memories in the Kitchen: Bites and Nibbles from "Bryony" are donated to Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy County. Lean more about the organization HERE.

Order the cookbook HERE.
 

 

 

 

Introduction to Memories in the Kitchen: Bites and Nibbles from “Bryony.”

   

     Why a cookbook?

     Well, why NOT a cookbook?

   Even before I began submitting Bryony to agents and small presses, my kids and I talked about all the fun, additional products the novel might inspire.

   Although I’ll probably never see bendable dolls with their own line of clothing (too bad, since we could make a fortune on all those lost, little shoes) or a Simons Mansion dollhouse (I REALLY want one), the cookbook idea flourished inside me, especially after I wrote a story on what Kathy Carey did for March of Dimes..

    For two decades, this remarkable woman participated in Grundy County's March of Dimes walk. In 2000, after a friend gave birth to a premature baby, Carey increased her efforts. She assisted the district coordinator. She contacted companies for donations and sponsorships. She re-routed the local walk to increase its visibility.

   Three years ago, Carey read an advertisement for fundraising cookbooks. Although she owned no computer and had no previous cookbook experience, Carey sent for the information. She studied it closely and decided she could do it. She set a fundraising goal of $7,000 and calculated that she needed to sell 1,000 cookbooks to reach it. Carey peddled the books at local stores, craft shows and festivals until she sold them all.

   Inspired by Carey's story, I decided to create a Bryony themed cookbook and donate any profits it might make. Its recipient is Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties. In its 40-year history, the organization has matched over 15,000 at risk children from single-parent homes.

   Because Bryony's main character, Melissa Marchellis, spends part of her childhood in a single parent home, the group was a good match for the cookbook. I am humbled that Big Brothers Big Sisters of Will and Grundy Counties agreed.

   So, I scrolled through the manuscript, jotted all the food references, and began collecting recipes. I modified many of the Victorian dishes to ease preparation, but kept the original language intact. Some, such as boiled calves head, are included so readers can learn about the culinary delights of days long past.

    But enough talking. As Melissa’s younger brother Brian said during a holiday dinner, “We made all this food to eat, right?”

   Right, Brian. Happy reading and bon appétit!

Denise M. Baran-Unland

Freelance Features Writer and Bryony’s Author
July 4, 2011

 The Bryony Cookbook is fondly dedicated to all the Steve Barnes’ in the world, the unassuming men and women who positively influence children by their tireless parenting, teaching, and mentoring. Never underestimate the unforgettable mark you leave. You are the true heroes of this world.

Bryony Official Music Video

Guest Post by Sir Frederick Chook: "Cabinet', A Game of my Own Invention"

Cabinet’, A Game of my Own Invention, By Sir Frederick Chook
Penned upon the 23rd of March, 2006
First appeared in FrillyShirt (www.frillyshirt.org).

 

As you know, I am an inventor, and invent things. This week, one of my many invetions was a game, which can be played with up to any number of people and I’m sure will prove enormously popular. It is a variant of Sardines, which in itself is a variant of Hide And Seek. Here are the rules:

 1- One player is nominated the “First Lord of the Treasury”. That player has one minute to hide.

 2- The remaining players, or “Parliamentarians”, wait one minute then begin seeking the First Lord of the Treasury.

 3- When a Parliamentarian finds the First Lord of the Treasury, they must join them in their hiding place.

 4- When enough Parliamentarians are hiding to “Form A Government” (usually 15-25, depending on the total number of players, though there is historical precedent for as few as 3), they may begin to “allocate Ministries”.

 5- The squabbling, bickering and hairpulling resulting from the allocation of Ministries (over who gets to be Home Secretary, or Minister for European Affairs, and who has to be Minister without Portfolio) should quickly attract the other Parliamentarians, who also join in the hiding but do not claim a Ministry, merely becoming “Back-benchers”.

 6- The last Parliamentarian to find the First Lord of the Treasury is “Ousted In A Bi-election” and leaves the game.

 7- The Parliamentarians then elect a new First Lord of the Treasury and the game begins anew.

One possible variant is to begin with two or even three First Lords of the Treasury, who compete for hiding places, and the last First Lord to amass enough Parliamentarians Forms The Government, while the others only form Shadow Cabinets and do not have a stake in the election of the next First Lord.

Regional and House rules may be used in which the last player to join each Cabinet is Ousted, resulting in a much quicker and higher-stakes game, or even in which Coalition Governments can be formed, allowing two Cabinets to gang up on a third.

When the game has been played to the satisfaction of all, the players gorge enormously on chips and relish and fall asleep in their chairs. For ages 3-107, especially those making more than 50,000 a year.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sir Frederick Chook is a foppish, transcendentalistic historian who lives variously by his wits, hand to mouth, la vie bohème, and in Melbourne with his wife, Lady Tanah Merah.

When not reading Milton and eating Stilton, he writes, ponders, models, delves into dusty archives, and gads about town. He has dabbled in student radio and in national politics, and is presently studying the ways of the shirt-sleeved archivist. He is a longhair, aspiring to one day be a greybeard. He has, once or twice, been described as “as mad as a bicycle.”

FrillyShirt is a compilation of articles, essays, reviews, photographs, artworks, question-and-answers, promotions, travelogues, diatribes, spirit journeys, cartoons, ululations and celebrations by Sir Frederick, his friends and contributing readers. Irregularly regular features include Teacup in a Storm, an etiquette column, and How to be Lovely, advanced speculations on the aesthetics of the self.

Other topics that pop up include fun things in and around Melbourne, art, nature, history, politics and schnauzers. Sir Frederick’s favorite color is all of them. Enjoy his writing? Drop him a telegram at fredchook@frillyshirt.org.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Treasure of Inestimable Value

Two years ago, as part of my research for Bryony's still unwritten prequel, Before the Blood, I researched Victorian letter-writing, especially love letters, and read many samples, trying to get a feel for the style.

As I read, I realised that, with today's communication so easily available at the touch of a button, many people today had lost something priceless: the opportunity to read, re-read, and read again, the thoughts of people dear to them.

I grew up with letter-writing. Like Melissa's experience with Ann Dalton at Munsvonville School in Bryony, note-passing was a common classroom activity. In the eighth grade, a friend and I often mailed each other letters even though we lived across town from each other.

As an adult expecting my first child, I regularly corresponded with one aunt and one great-aunt. A number of years later, as I was contemplating entry into the Eastern Orthodox Church, a physician friend of mine, who had converted years earlier, shared his thoughts with me via snail mail (the only kind way back then). I remember how eagerly I'd open one of those letters, finally understanding how the early Christians must have felt receiving Paul's epistles.

Even as recently fifteen years or so ago, after making friends at a retreat with the pastor of a church six hours away, that friendship was developed and cemented through the regular exchange of handwritten letters. It's been ten years since he died of colon cancer; those letters are silver and gold to me now.

This past year, I took a chance on a former friendship. Because we both have grueling schedules, most of our back and forth communication took place through text messaging, which became voluminous as our friendship grew.

Being new to twenty-first century technology, it never occured to me to backup any messages or photos I wanted to keep or to delete a thread that had expanded to length of the Amazon River, that is, until one day the thread, in the middle of a conversation, unexpectedly shut down and refused to open.

Of course, such disasters only happen on holiday weekends; in my case, it was Thanksgiving weekend. I was already battling a corrupted document that had spread its errors throughout innocent documents, which necessitated a clean install of Microsoft Word and the reinterviewing and rewriting of several other stories. Sadly, not even my tech-savvy older son could open that phone thread. Alas, my phone was reduced to what phones were originally intended to be: telephones.

Since I was planning to switch providers soon anyway, we made the transition the next day. Unfortunately, any data on that thread resisted transfer. Mourning its loss and cursing my naivety, I resolved to be much more proactive the second time around, and I have been, well sort of....

Well, the new year brought changes as all new years do. In this case, the fullbodied frienship flattened out and grew unsatisfyingly anemic, not through anyone's fault, but because, perhaps, it's natural course had run, although the relationship is not unfriendly by any means. Two nights ago, as I fell asleep and began dreaming pre-dreams, I once again remembered frozen thread, wished it could be opened, felt confident it could someday, and zzzzzzzzz..............

Okay, here's the cool part.

Last night, after a particularly trying medical week at the Baran-Unland casa, Timothy came home from work and asked for the dead cell phone. Immediately, my thoughts from the previous night flashed, and I suspiciously asked him why he wanted it. So naturally, Timothy wouldn't tell me.

I sent Rebekah up the ladder for the said phone and charger. That's when Timothy, our resident cell phone guru, said he'd read complaints from users of that cell phone of "slow to open threads" (an understatement) and how a new ap had just become available to counteract it.

Within an hour, Timothy had the thread opened up.

Today, in odd bursts of time, I've been backing up messages and photos from that thread. Three quarters of a year's communication are contained there; the reminiscing, far from being painful as the relationship had negatively shifted dramatically and unexpectedly, actually made me smile and warmly glow inside.  I'll probably never know what triggered the shift, much less be able to fix it, but for now, that's somehow not very important.

What's important is my "yes" to an opportunity that, had I been close-minded and full of excuses, I might well have missed. I believe there is nothing more worthy of my time on the face of this earth than relating well with another human being. That is the basis for my love of feature stories, and yes, even my fiction writing.

Relationships, unlike consumer items, don't come with guarantees, but that doesn't mean, when they break down, that they were worthless. On the contrary, their fragile and nuanced nature should make us value them (and protect and nurture them) even more.

And while I cannot keep growing what I'd like to keep growing, I have more than the memory of a great year. I have a literal transcript of it, and I can revisit it as often as I like. Personally, I think the Victorians have one up on us, even if I don't bind that old phone with a piece of lace or purple ribbon.



 

Vampire Lullaby

An Impassioned Shout-Out to the Steward of Tara

Today, frustrated at the lack of promised blog material, I issued the following telegram to Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara. No response yet. What happened to "the dead travel fast?" Wondering if I might receive a quicker reply if I rewrote my summons as a limerick?


O Steward!

You don't call.

You don't write.

Most importantly, I've received ZERO feedback on "Visage."

I hope this isn't backlash from marriage proposal rejection. That would dampen our working relationship, which has been somewhat satisfactory up to this point.

No longer patiently awaiting your response.

MOMI

"Flutter" by Gina Linko and Story Round Up

Yes, I know I'm twenty-four hours late in posting Friday's blog, but it's been a crazy, weird medical week (again) for us: a mad round of doctor's visits and the scheduling of more (and follow-up and referral) doctor's visits, along with the frantic rush to catch up at home, hearth, and work (and, no, I haven't caught up, but I'm getting there).

It does mean a weekend of work (although I'll defintely be trying to get some Staked! editing done, hoping, hoping) and finishing the last few chapters of Bryony (my thoughts on Monday) and making my way through another young adult novel, Flutter by Random House author Gina Linko.

Flutter is the story of seventeen year old Emery Land who longs for normalcy but instead experiences severe seizures that keep her hospital-bound, seizures that may in fact be time-traveling. During those seizures (Emery calls them "loops"), she meets Ash Clarke, a Good Samaritan atoning a past secret.

On Thursday, Linko spoke to Joliet's WriteOn writer's group about query letters, agents, acquisitions, revising, and her general passion for writing. I'm several chapters into Flutter, and the story's got me hooked. You might like to check it out: www.ginalinko.com.

Below are my feature stories that ran in this past week's Herald News.



A song to help them heal

Losing husband and father Bill DeLucio at age twenty-seven to cardiomyopathy is difficult to bear, but memorializing him through an appearance in the new Josh Turner video keeps his legacy alive.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17948757-423/a-song-to-help-them-heal.html


Minooka library to host seminar on public speaking

Don't let inexperience or a bad case of nerves interfere with giving a super presentation. An experienced speaker shares her best tips and techniques for wowing your audience.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/18074391-423/minooka-library-to-host-seminar-on-public-speaking.html


Gentleman farmer close to land and community

A passion for farming ran through this man's blood, and a love of neighbor ruled his soul.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/18207993-423/gentleman-farmer-close-to-land-and-community.html


Taking a holistic approach

Meet Dr. Karen Becker, a veterinarian that's open to therapies and treatments outside the traditional veterinary box.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/18250327-423/taking-a-holistic-approach.html


Young girl waits for kidney

She's only 3 years old, but Paige Zapp is already determined not to let a congential kidney disorder bring her down.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/18100603-423/young-girl-waits-for-kidney.html


Band keeps the music alive

Big band and polka music fans have an advocate in The Eddie Korosa Band and the Boys from Illinois, which performs these and past popular hits to enthusiastic and particpating audiences.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/18227516-423/band-keeps-the-music-alive.html

Blank Page

That's how I'm feeling tonight.

Crazy week, but productive in a strange sort of manner.

Heart is full; mind is empty of words.

The muse is active, but not in a literary sense.

Instead of writing, I'm thinking it makes better sense to curl up with the last third of Bryony.

Enjoy the night!

Three "Bryony" Cookbook Images by Matt Coundiff

Did you know the official BryonySeries cookbook, Memories in the Kitchen: Bites and Nibbles from "Bryony," in addition to featuring Victorian and '70's style recipes that correlate with the storyline in Bryony, it also features eleven original pen and ink art from tattoo artist Matt Coundiff.


Check out three of them below. Order the cookbook HERE. Learn more about Coundiff HERE

 

I'm Reading "Bryony" for the Very First Time....

....as a book, which means my inner author and editor can't watch. I'm seeking only to enjoy the book I've written. That was my first goal for the story: to write a book I'd want to read. Most of the time, I've forgotten that I'd written it, a good first sign.

So far, I'm pleased, but I still have a third to go. When I'm done, I'll post my own objective review.

Stayed tuned.

Les Miserables - Official Movie Trailer 2012 (HD)

Grandma, Can I Have a Blessing?

That question (minus "the grandma") is a common refrain in our household at bedtime, and one that has been resounding since my oldest child--almost thirty-one and standing nearly six-ten--was eighteen months old and wearing one-piece, zippered sleeper pyjamas with plastic feet.

That's when I was reading a series of child rearing books by 1950's Catholic mother of seven Mary Reed Newland, the best source of mothering wisdom I've ever encountered. In one of her books, Newland briefly mentioned how, after witnessing another family use the custom, she and her husband began giving her children "blessings:" at bedtime, before special events, etc.

The concept appealed to me, so I began adding this blessing prayer with the goodnight kiss: Christopher David, may the blessing of the Lord be upon you always, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. While doing so, I traced a little cross on his forehead. Christopher, although non-verbal at the time, was soon babbling back to me and tracing marks on my forehead with his tiny index finger.

As Christopher's siblings arrived, bedtime blessings lengthened and included Sarah Catherine, Joshua Paul, Timothy Michael, Rebekah Anne, and Daniel John. Most of the adult children living in my household still request blessings at bedtime, and I still receive them in return. If our schedules cross, we text them to each other.

As my children began having children, some of most of them continued the tradition, too, which was soooooo cool for me to experience. And of course, when I see my grandchildren, the goodbyes always include a blessing.

Friday evening, as I was walking out the door for the night, my five year old grandson stopped me with a, "Grandma, can I have a blessing?" After I happily bestowed that upon him, I asked him for one in return. I bent low; Ronnie placed his little hand on my forehead and recited the sweetest prayer. Then he gave me a quick hug and dashed away to find Uncle Daniel.

It's such a simple practice, and yet...think of the many, many decades of prayers we have raised heavenward on each other's behalf. The custom has created more than a family legacy, but a treasure whoaw value we'll realize only in eternity.

Mary Reed Newland, I owe you.

Valentines Day In Ireland

"She Walks in Beauty" by Lord Byron and Story Round-Up

She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron (1814)

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Pastor pens Christian romances

Janet Fears believes God wants people to love happily ever after, so she writes romantic novels and poems that show people exactly how the the Almighty works in their love lives...and why they should trust God's lead in that area.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17851858-423/pastor-pens-christian-romances.html

Channahon man was one with nature

As mayor of Channahon, Joe Cook plays a strong influence in his village. Today, he reflects on the man who molded and mentored him.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/18098406-423/channahon-man-was-one-with-nature.html

Take time to pamper pets

Don't wait for Valentine's Day 2014 to show love to your pet. Local owners share ways they make their companion animals feel special

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/18156368-423/take-time-to-pamper-pets.html

A commitment to fitness

Trainer Bill is so dedicated to helping people become fit that he offers a "no-commitment" training boot camp with a "no charge" introductory session.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/18100536-423/a-commitment-to-fitness.html

The fine art of relaxation

Tai Chi for seniors? you bet! Read further.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17903534-423/the-fine-art-of-relaxation.html

Vampire Kiss - Nightcore - Lyrics on the screen!

Timothy Baran Sings a "Fun" Song

Guest Post by Sir Frederick Chook: "The Terror of London!"

The Terror of London! By Sir Frederick Chook
Penned upon the 18th of September, 2009
First appeared in FrillyShirt (www.frillyshirt.org).

 

I love a good mystery – Ms Merah will attest to my Sherlock Holmes mania – but the most fascinating cases are those which actually happened. A lot of people have a favourite mystery – they make good stories to tell and re-tell, meaning that writers and such will pick them up as inspiration, spreading the story further. Unfortunately, this often causes the original stories to collect more than a few fictional elements along the way. Take the Bermuda Triangle, for instance; if I’ve got my facts straight, what really happened was that a squadron of planes on a training flight got badly lost and ran out of fuel, and that one of the search-planes sent out to look for them was an unreliable old model and crashed too. End of mystery, but beginning of an ever-more ridiculous legend, of ships and aircraft vanishing by the dozen. Tchoh.

There’s a not insignificant industry catering to such tall tales – speculation as to the extra-terrestrial nature of the Egyptian pyramids, and so forth. This distressingly distracts from the fascinating genuine history – i.e., the ingenious construction methods of the Egyptians. Not all such stories are so exaggerated, of course! Most concern, not facts impossible to reconcile with known physical laws and historical narratives, but simply the absence of facts at all. The Mary Celeste, for instance; found adrift, ship and cargo intact but crew and instruments missing. A series of similarly brutal murders, attributed to a single unidentified killer, dubbed ‘Jack the Ripper.’ Barring unexpected new evidence, we can but speculate as to the truth of such affairs – truth which seems so teasingly near, which inspires the brain to wonder, to imagine, to experiment.

If I could know the truth of just one of these cases, it would not be any ghost ship, nor the masked prisoner of the Bastille, nor even the Ripper, but another Jack – that is, Spring-Heeled Jack, the Terror of London. This Jack is an odd figure – a difficult story to follow, you see. He began as a rumour, a moral panic – as a title given by the press of 1830s London to a cumulation of folk tales, about leaping devils and spectres preying on travellers. Publication inspired imitation – bored youths and drunks started calling themselves ‘Jack’ and spooking or mugging citizens, more or less at random. Amid these ghost stories and minor nuisances hides the faintest possibility of a true oddity, though – of a flesh-and-blood rogue who, presumably taking advantage of existing fears, invested a great deal of effort and ingenuity into terrorising the vulnerable.

How is this? Well, some clever-clogses – including the wonderfully sensible Fortean historian Mike Dash– have located the handful of Spring-Heeled Jack sightings which were investigated by the police, supported by witnesses, and well-recorded in contemporary publishing, but were never conclusively settled. These accounts, including but not limited to the testimonies of the Alsop family following the assault of Jane Alsop, describe a villain dressed in a black cloak and close-fitting oilskins, a fierce-looking mask or helm, and gloves fitted with metal claws. He would catch his victims, usually young women, in lonely locations, or lure them there with a trick, before revealing himself as Jack – by name, in some cases – and, if they were unable to escape, setting about them with his claws, and even spraying fire from his mouth (presumably by means of a reservoir of alcohol.)

Naturally, it’s likely that the more fantastical elements of these reports were exaggerated in all the excitement – the tremendous leaping which gave Spring-Heeled Jack his name; the oddity of his dress; the surely quite dangerous tricks with fire. If any of these accounts were even broadly accurate, though, then someone assembled an elaborate (and probably expensive) costume, fashioned unique and cruel weapons, and probably practised their methods, all in aid of doing injustice and injury onto the young women of London. What manner of man would do such a thing? A popular theory, then and now – though without much evidence to support it – was that a wayward Regency buck was dared or otherwise spurred by his disreputable gang of friends into outraging the common folk of the city. It’s all very Hellfire Club, but even without such speculation, Jack seems something like a real-life supervillain – an early counterpart to real-life heroes like Superbarrio.

In my heart of hearts, I suspect that the truth was far more mundane – that those unfortunate souls like Ms Alsop were attacked by common rascals employing cheap tricks, taking advantage of the rumour mill to sow confusion in their victims. This is why I should like to know the truth of the affair – while the possibility is slight, did someone really do what Spring-Heeled Jack was said to? How did they do it? Rubber-soled boots? An actual spring mechanism? A mask and hood, with a tube for spraying a flammable solution? And why was it done, for pity’s sake – what malicious impulse would have inspired someone to set upon innocents with fire and claw? I suppose the answer to that is the same element which inspires all cruelty achieved from behind a veil of anonymity, of secrecy, or of power.

Whatever the truth, Jack became a favourite of penny-dreadfuls for years afterwards, and still appears in fiction, on occasion. If nothing else, these have furnished us with a number of delightful illustrations of the fellow – usually as a villain; occasionally as a hero, avenging some wrongdoing. We’re driven by stories like his to fill in the blanks, to connect the dots – a worthwhile creative exercise, so long as we keep track of what we do and do not know. That’s why mysteries are good for us, I think – even those concerning actual crime might do good if they bring us to a generally-applicable solution. Oh, and incidentally, Jack sightings still crop up every now and then, so take care next time you go out alone… keep an eye on the rooftops, and if a cloaked stranger calls for a candle, run, run away!

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sir Frederick Chook is a foppish, transcendentalistic historian who lives variously by his wits, hand to mouth, la vie bohème, and in Melbourne with his wife, Lady Tanah Merah.

When not reading Milton and eating Stilton, he writes, ponders, models, delves into dusty archives, and gads about town. He has dabbled in student radio and in national politics, and is presently studying the ways of the shirt-sleeved archivist. He is a longhair, aspiring to one day be a greybeard. He has, once or twice, been described as “as mad as a bicycle.”

FrillyShirt is a compilation of articles, essays, reviews, photographs, artworks, question-and-answers, promotions, travelogues, diatribes, spirit journeys, cartoons, ululations and celebrations by Sir Frederick, his friends and contributing readers. Irregularly regular features include Teacup in a Storm, an etiquette column, and How to be Lovely, advanced speculations on the aesthetics of the self.

Other topics that pop up include fun things in and around Melbourne, art, nature, history, politics and schnauzers. Sir Frederick’s favorite color is all of them. Enjoy his writing? Drop him a telegram at fredchook@frillyshirt.org.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Agony and Exhilaration of New Beginnings

I'm beginning a new writing project.

At this point, I can't say too much, except that it's not a paid project; I'm working with a non-profit; and I'm very nervous and excited to be going down this unmarked road. Fortunately, I have what appears to be, if past conversations are accurate indicators, one heck of an insightful guide.

Unlike some of the other paths I've traveled these past hard couple of years, the destination for this one is clear and in sight. Today, I'm standing somewhat still, foot poised, ready to take that second step on Wednesday. Wish me luck.

I'm still on an adventure.

Guest Post by Thomas Meisinger: Philippians 4:19

Originally posted on August 18, 2012 at www.spiritualvitamin.blogspot.com

 "And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:19

 

The more I dissect my life, the more I think all my problems would be solved if I just had more money. I’d be able to afford a phone that was manufactured during the current Presidential administration. I could eat out more so I wouldn’t be creating culinary experiments while starving at 3 A.M. And most of all, I’d be able to pursue my dream, my passion, and write for a living.

While I look at those things, I often neglect the blessings currently existing in my life. I am lucky to have a cell phone period, as there are some cultures in this world where a cell phone isn’t a necessity for a twelve-year old, but rather a privilege for the wealthy upper elite. As for being able to afford dining out more, at least I’m not starving. I’m fortunate to have a kitchen where I can try and fail with delectable masterpieces like Bacon Cheeseburger Casserole. (For all you Lutherans it goes great with beer. For all you Mormons/Baptists, it goes great with Kool-Aid also.)

Some may find that comment amusing, others won’t. But there are nations on this Earth where I could be thrown in jail for making any type of political or religious statement. For example, like posting on this blog. I’m no legal expert, but I’m pretty sure there isn’t a clause in the Patriot Act that restricts freedom of speech.

I think way too much. It’s part of being a writer. Thursday night I wrote a six-page short story just from a brief daydream. Often times, my fantasies revolve around being a famous writer who can afford not to work for “the man”. These daydreams are what fuel my gambling addiction to lottery tickets. I bought one for the $327 million Powerball drawing this week. And while I pondered what life would be like if I won, I always think to myself…is this what God would want?

Somewhere, probably within a five-mile radius someone else is purchasing a lottery ticket for the same jackpot thinking, “I hope I win so I can buy clothes for my children.” or, “If only I had the money to pay the water bill.” There are so many people who have it far worse than me. I truly believe that if those people out there are Christians, then God will provide.

Maybe I’m misinterpreting the big picture. Whenever I daydream about winning the lottery and realize others need it far worse than I do, I think God is trying to say, “Give that money you are gambling away to those in need.” The Lord has already met mine because last time I checked, I’m breathing. (Just double checked and confirmed and, yes, I am still breathing.)

I didn’t begin to tithe until last year although I have been working since 2004. Despite incurring several unexpected financial obligations since then, I can still afford to pay my bills. It makes me wonder what that ten-percent had been going towards the previous seven years. Most likely it was going towards material possessions that didn’t honor God.

I’ve always been taught to pray according to God’s will. I pray every night for God to continue to bless my passions and gifts and yes, I will admit I do pray for the Lord to help me find the means where I can write for a living. I forget that even though I do still work a forty-hour per week job, I’m sitting on a laptop right now doing exactly what he’s wanting me to do…and that’s glorifying him.

It kind of sounds like the ultimate win-win. I like those odds better than one in 176 million.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Thomas Meisinger was born, raised and educated in Chicago's southwest suburbs. He began performing stand-up comedy in 2009 while in college. You may have seen him at The Comedy Shrine, Edge Comedy Club, and other establishments he doesn't like enough to give free publicity. If he spent as much time filling out job applications as he did writing jokes during his last semester, he would probably have a better paying job. Currently residing utterly alone in Missouri, he has since shifted his focus to writing.

He spent a year working on his first novel, The World Is Shallow; That's Why I Never Learned How to Swim, which is currently available on all major eBook retail sites. The humorous fictional autobiography has received rave reviews from family, friends, and stray cats wandering his apartment. Meisinger’s favorite hobby is people-watching at coffee shops but let's face it, he really just has a staring problem.

Meisinger currently writes four blogs: Penguins are Pretentious (www.penguinsarepretentious.blogspot.com) is a collection of Meisinger’s ideas, opinions and experiences. Bacon, Eggs, and Whiskey (www.baconeggsandwhiskey.blogspot.com) is life from a bachelor’s point of view. Spiritual Vitamin (www.spiritualvitamin.blogspot.com) contains Christian-themed reflections. Dear Grandma Margie (www.deargrandmamargie.blogspot.com) is a series of fictional letters Meisinger wrote to his real grandmother. He hopes to honor her by self-publishing those letters by her 88th birthday, March 24, 2013.

If you must, "Like" Meisinger's Facebook Fan Page, follow him on Twitter at #TomMeisinger., or check out his website at www.funnythomas.com.

 

 

 

 

PIANO MUSIC - soothing and relaxing (original) by Roy Todd

"Grief" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Story Round Up

Grief  By Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

 

I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless;

 

That only men incredulous of despair,

 

Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air

 

Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access

 

Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness,

 

In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare

 

Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare

 

Of the absolute heavens. Deep-hearted man, express

 

Grief for thy dead in silence like to death—

 

Most like a monumental statue set

 

In everlasting watch and moveless woe

 

Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.

 

Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:

 

If it could weep, it could arise and go.

 

 

 

Ready to take the plunge

 

Would you trade out your birthday and Christmas presents to jump into a freezing lake in March? See why these three sisters will do just that.

 

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17729032-423/ready-to-take-the-plunge.html

 

 

An extraordinary life: Easton Fangerow

 

A dying boy's powerful spirit enriches his family, friends, and a pediatric hospice program.

 

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17903785-423/an-extraordinary-life-easton-fangerow.html

 

 Doing it all for the animals

 

A Joliet Junior College veterinary technician student is doing more than realizing her lifelong dream. She volunteers at a local shelter and is organizing a benefit to help raise money for the shelter's planned dog run.

 

 http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17918955-423/doing-it-all-for-the-animals.html

 

 

Put your camera to good use

 

A photojournlist with thirty plus years of experience hosts workshops so people may receive the best use from their digital cameras.

 

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17902274-423/put-your-camera-to-good-use.html

 

 A musician through the years

 

Although Mitch Alvarez has been writing, playing, and recording music for over four decades, he finally has completed his dream project, and it's a good one.

 

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17946983-423/a-musician-through-the-years.html

 

 

 

 

      

Timothy Baran Sings "Mr. Brightside."

James Onohan - Come Back

Guest Post by Sir Frederick Chook: "We Need to Talk Zombies"

We Need to Talk about Zombies by Sir Frederick Chook
Penned upon the 13th of June, 2009
First appeared in FrillyShirt (www.frillyshirt.org).

 

Zombies, you see. Zombies and pirates. Now, I love zombies and pirates as much as anyone – anyone could tell you that. At this point, though, I think zombies and pirates have contributed as much to our culture as they possibly can – at least, without a long period of contemplation and re-imagination. Therefore, I’m proposing replacing them.

Now, I know for a fact I’m not the first person advocating such a move. I hope, though, that you’ll hear me out. I firmly believe it’s time for zombies and pirates to step down, in favour of werewolves and Napoleonic soldiers.

I know; I’ll be sorry to see zombies go, too. But, when Pride & Prejudice & Zombies appeared, we realised it was time to move on – everyone knows the natural accompaniment to Austen is malevolent roving weather balloons. Werewolves have been out of the limelight (and the moonlight) for some time, though – they deserve their chance at fame.

Where zombies shuffle down the street, being all “we represeeennnt modernity’s failinnnngs” and “urrghhh we are the underclass created by commerce, science, industry and military” and “braiiins,” werewolves could be “grrrr arrgh I am the temptation to live a rewarding but immoral life” and “I am humanity’s struggle with the concept of evil arooooooooo.” Plenty to work with there, don’t you think? There could be Werewolf Lopes, we could all tuck fur in at our collars and cuffs, put on big prosthetic eyebrows like in that one ridiculous Wuthering Heights adaptation…

Pirates, too! Pirates, at the moment, are all “an imagined history of an era of personal freedom, of rough but fair justice enacted with one’s own hands, realised through a West Country accent, Jimlad.” I think, socially, that doesn’t represent our mindset as it once did. Napoleonic soldiers could take us to a different level, more of a “building up a new age of Reason” and “though we die, the Code shall prevail” and “for France!”

Plus, you can wear those tall hats. And epaulettes! And your nephew can build public works, install a city-wide system of pneumatic messaging-tubes, and violently suppress the communists. I don’t at all see how this could fail to catch on!

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sir Frederick Chook is a foppish, transcendentalistic historian who lives variously by his wits, hand to mouth, la vie bohème, and in Melbourne with his wife, Lady Tanah Merah.

When not reading Milton and eating Stilton, he writes, ponders, models, delves into dusty archives, and gads about town. He has dabbled in student radio and in national politics, and is presently studying the ways of the shirt-sleeved archivist. He is a longhair, aspiring to one day be a greybeard. He has, once or twice, been described as “as mad as a bicycle.”

FrillyShirt is a compilation of articles, essays, reviews, photographs, artworks, question-and-answers, promotions, travelogues, diatribes, spirit journeys, cartoons, ululations and celebrations by Sir Frederick, his friends and contributing readers. Irregularly regular features include Teacup in a Storm, an etiquette column, and How to be Lovely, advanced speculations on the aesthetics of the self.

Other topics that pop up include fun things in and around Melbourne, art, nature, history, politics and schnauzers. Sir Frederick’s favorite color is all of them. Enjoy his writing? Drop him a telegram at fredchook@frillyshirt.org.

 

 

Are You On An Adventure, Too?

When I orignally sat down to write today's blog, I was going to talk about the progress I'd made this weekend editing Staked!

That topic is definitely much safer than the one on my mind. As I've intimated, 2012 has been a year of upheavals, some good, some bad, and some that resemble one or the other and turn out to be opposite. My battle cry has been, "I'm on an adventure!" And indeed, I am.

Instead, the Herald News had run another story on my son's project to create a computer lab for a small private school, and my muse spun back around to adventures.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/news/17921864-418/area-computer-whiz-is-paying-it-forward.html

As the mother of Channhon Computer Repair's owner, I'm of course fairly jumping and down with pride (the good kind) for him, but really, it's the story's underlying message that's got me excited, since it's absolutely laced with good will from idea conception to the point in the action where Christopher now finds himself.

Meaning, he's not yet done, far, far from it.

Rather, the greater amount of work is ahead of him, and there will be no adrenalin-high glory pushing him through it. Hopefully, though, the knowledge of where he's come and the long-term difference he's making in these children's lives will continue to glow inside him through the entire project and provide the highest form of satisfaction, greater than any public accolade could possibly give.

That was not the case when the first rush ended. I'm referring to the day of the actual recycling event, when the last car had departed, and an exhausted Christopher was sitting in his office surrounded by an overwhelming amount of recycle, about three times as much as he'd collected from any community recycling event he'd overseen for other companies. He was now, all by himself, personally accountable for doing something with each and every piece, as well as the less than happy reactions of other members in our household who are stepping over and continually negotiating each and every piece.

It's easy to be enthused about an idea, a project, a job, an organization, a cause, or a relationship in those early stages when the effort is less than the sweet candy rewards that are bestowed. However, as many prospectors know, to get to the real gems, you have to mine pretty deeply. It's a lot of effort. No wonder so many people give up long before they reach the finish line.

So, yes, while it's tons of fun to be written up in a newspaper, enjoy the response of people rallying to your cause with their donations, open cards from schoolchildren praying for your success, and feel the thrill of finally setting up those computers (once they are all built), the truth is that Christopher will spend many, many, many laborious hours, stripping equipment, testing equipment, and building equipment before finally disposing of most of that equipment in an ecofriendly and responsible manner.

Some people might not find it worth it. Their loss. They'll never taste the fullness of the reward. They are not the ones you want around on your adventures because I'll guarantee you, despite their words to the contrary, every time trouble looms, a misunderstanding occurs, communication breaks down, the road becomes treacherous, the horizon is dark, or a particular situation does not work out according to plan, they'll bail, leaving you to carry on by yourself.

Because, just as Gandolf assures Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit trailer I posted yesterday, adventures, by their very nature, change you. As the saying goes, if you want something you've never before had, you have to do something you've never before done, and that includes learning new behavior patterns for new situations. If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen. If you want certainty, don't play in uncertainty's backyard (That last one's mine; like it)? New wine doesn't belong in old wine skins.

But if you take the common, well-trampled road, I promise you, you'll wind up with common, well-trampled results and miss the best life has to offer. Remember that the next time you're tempted to abandon something you've worked so hard to only partially attain.

Push ahead.

Move forward.

Stay the course.

Unfortunately, success is not promised if you do. Failure, however, is guaranteed if you don't.



 

THE HOBBIT Trailer HD

IRISH Piano (so beautiful) - by Roy todd

Another New Harold Masters Submission from "Bryony" fan Heather Boster and Story Round Up

Bryony fan Heather Boster submitted another part of her novel-in-progress to the Harold Masters page of the BryonySeries website. At this point, Heather is uncertain if this new selection will be part of the prologue or chapter one.

As you recall, Harold Masters was the unusual literature teacher at Munsonville School. Melissa fell in love with Bryony's story (and John Simons, too) after writing a research paper about Bryony's life for the village's centennial celebration. Mr. Masters' page is a place for fans to share their writings.

Here is Heather's piece:

http://www.bryonyseries.com/Harold_Masters.html


Commitment to education

Despite continual persecution, a Congolese man continually pursued higher education and his goal to help others in need. Having to begin anew in the United States did not deter him; it only made him try harder.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17770706-423/commitment-to-education.html


Verona man lived simple life

Free of the technological gadgets that are part of modern living, Glenn Hollenbeck lived a simple life free from financial cares and the stressors that plague others.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17776433-423/verona-man-led-simple-life.html


HUGS helps grant wishes

A number of national organizations grant large-scale dreams to terminally ill individuals. This local group meets much smaller, but equally important, needs.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17851944-423/hugs-helps-grant-wishes.html


Creating art with a heart

When LeAnn Ryan began her sign business, she did so knowing she wanted to promote others artists as well as help local charities. Here's how she's accomplishing it.

http://heraldnews.suntimes.com/lifestyles/17756342-423/creating-art-with-a-heart.html


One final story did not make it online this week, that of Jim Nesci and his Cold Blooded Animals. Jim's show is a fascinating one. Check out his site: www.coldbloodedcreatures.com