Try this recipe for Pistachio Rhubarb Yogurt Cake from PBS Food.
Source: Pistachio Rhubarb Yogurt Cake
In my manuscript, There Was A Time, Oh Pilgrim, When The Stones Were Not So Smooth I finished a chapter about the ‘elderly Dutchmen party with Alison Alexandra’ on Friday 13th last March. I took a trip and, on 19th March, began what is nearly a full year of Pandemic writing.The next chapter of the novel begins “In times of Pandemic, one of Alison Alexandra’s greatest worries is being bored.”
I started planning to write about the Pandemic the day after I heard that China was constructing hospitals solely devoted to COVID patients. I knew then the world was going to be in a lot of trouble. I have been writing about the Pandemic ever since.
This is how that chapter begins.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In times of Pandemic, one of Alison Alexandra’s greatest worries is being bored. And though she doesn’t want to test the theory, she believes she would rather be ill than bored.
“I’d step lightly there,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost.
“You would?”
“I would,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost. “And I know what I’m talking about. Yes – I do.”
Within the week of Wuhan City in China being shut down, and the building of emergency hospitals to house the sick, Alison Alexandra knew this would inevitably become the fate of the world. It might have intruded a bit more quickly than she has anticipated, but not by much.
Alison Alexandra of course thinks about the Chinese cures: “May you live in interesting times”. But she also knows that this is a phrase in English that has no Chinese equivalent. The closest curse in Chinese is “Better to be a dog in peacetime than a human in time of war”.
“I won’t argue with that,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost.
And she doesn’t.
So, it was at the beginning of the Chinese curse that Alison Alexandra sets her plan into motion. It is simple, though dependent on circumstance.
Alison Alexandra arranges to get those with whom she’d like to share the End Times – if End Times they prove to be – to join her at her house and wait out the famine with a feast or two. Or three.
“I don’t think the End Times are supposed to be good times,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost/
“Not to put too fine a point on it,” says Alison Alexandra. “But aren’t you supposed to know?”
“Point taken,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost.
[Image] https://www.frontiersurvival.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/FS-Pandemic-Plan.jpg
There are crocuses on Leaman Street,
And the trees are full of birds,
And the trees are full of birds,
Little birds,
Dozens of them singing
Their little bird hearts out.
White crocus,
Slender white points,
Not yet in bloom.
On the other side
Of a picket fence.
And there are three seagulls,
Soaring over the houses,
Screeching loud enough
To beat the band.
Earlier today,
There were four
Snow squalls
That obscured the harbour
And hid the grass.
But my afternoon walk
Was in clear sun,
Under cloudless sky,
And I didn’t really need
A hat
Or gloves,
Though I wore both.
So Spring is more
Than an idea,
Or
A date
On the calendar.
Spring is starting to awaken.
~DE BA UE
(It’s little wonder that the Internet can be thought of as “The Devil’s Tool” So many things are.
So, I was on the cursed Internet and – oh, so innocently – came across a Twitter reference to The Devil’s Oven in connection to my (now distant) home town. I had never heard of the term, nor the place, while living there, so (of course) I went on a virtual search.
Now, some background shall explain my interest. I have written two novels about Satan and – indeed – the Devil has even recently appeared in my current manuscript, just two months ago. A relationship of long standing. Who knew I might have come by it honestly?
The Internet revealed that The Devil’s Oven, not only being a feature of my home town, is actually situated within five kilometres of the hospital where I was born. I believe the building is now a retirement or nursing home. Perhaps I will return.
The Internet is so accommodating that I even found a YouTube video posted but a week ago of folk driving to the site, and then walking to it from the parking area. I’m sure the video was edited, but they had to drive right past that hospital.
The Devil’s Oven gets its fame (though, I assume, not any infamy) as a destination on a hiking trail. A comfortable trail apparently, in both degree of difficulty and distance. In fact, every of the twenty or so sites I came across all dealt with hiking. None of these sites were more than ten years old.
The interest in The Devil’s Oven is the result of a winter phenomenon. It is a large cave (might it look like an oven) subject to streams of water falling over the entrance. In winter, these streams all freeze into long and thick icicles Some of them seem to be as thick as a person. And there appears to be an array of different colours to the icicles. It is an impressive sight.
So, a cold place for Old Nick does seem fitting.The Devil being the opposite of what the Devil is supposed to be. That pretty well sums up the Devil.
[Image] https://i.ytimg.com/vi/kdLN0qWtB80/maxresdefault.jpg
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An excerpt from my novel “Kafka In The Castle”, where l fill in his ‘missing’ diary entries.
01 March 1917
I was part way down the steps of the castle last night, on my way home. Perhaps a bit later than usual, I didn’t check my watch. I was passing one of the corners, where the locked doors bar entrance to the passageways, when I heard a rustle in the air. I doubt I would have noticed, were it not for my acute hearing. Nothing more than that, but I went to take a look.
A man was huddled by the stone – not sprawled or laying, but seated – and with his head resting against the cold surface. There was the smell of urine, and the smell of wine. He did not look up as I approached, and I wondered what to do. People and their choices – I prefer to let them lead their lives – but he could not spend the night where he was. He would freeze to death. I spoke, but there was no response. I debated between nudging him with my foot, or shaking him by the shoulders, although I found neither course of action appealing.
“You should go home,” I said. “It is too cold to stay here.” He made a noise, but I wasn’t sure what it was, so I leaned closer. The wine was so strong, I thought he must have broken the bottle. This time I could hear the trace of laughter, and his low voice.
“We meet again. The Herr Doktor.” I hurriedly stepped back. Recognition was the last thing I had expected. “You still walk the nights,” he said, and I then realized it was my next – door neighbour.
“I leave late,” I said. “But you still come home late.” And with less success than ever, I thought, but I did not tell him this.
“I broke the bottle.” He spoke unexpectedly, and startled me. “I’ve cut my hand.” He tried to struggle to his feet, and I reached for him, but he ignored me. Because it was less dark on the steps, I could see that his jacket and pants were wet, and his sleeve was smeared with blood. He was not even dressed for winter, and I wondered if he had lost his coat.
He started down the steps, but I turned him around. “Ah, yes,” he said. “To heaven.” He did not seem to want my help as he very deliberately took one step at a time. Near the top, he turned and spoke. “She’s a whore, that Julie. She’s no good.” Halfway through the court yard he said: “Her hair. Just to touch her hair.” At the entrance of the Alchemist Lane, he held up his bloodied hand as if to push something away. “There is a man, now. A man with her.” His voice slavered around the air.
I stopped him before his own door, and he surprised me by having the key in his hand. He put it in the lock slowly, but without difficulty. “I saw them.” As the door swung in, he turned to me. “Herr Doktor, my Angel of Redemption. So you have moved next door.” He shook my hand, leaving blood upon my fingers. “You do good work, Herr Doktor. But I search for the Angel of Death.”
(Image) https://c1.staticflickr.com/1/17/21216019_b34f937938.jpg
:
Stick fingers into socket
(a no-brainer)
Brain surgery
(a real no-brainer)
Speak to the Devil
Tweet your fantasies
Enact your fantasies
Assume the position
Have rattlesnakes
Worship rattlesnakes
Play with rattlesnakes
Have your cake
And eat it, too
Swear on a stack of Bibles
Pile a stack of Bibles
Put another nickle in
(in the Nickelodeon)
(in the Nickelodeon)
Be a dancing fool
Nail feet to a Cross
Use all the crayons
Go up the ladders
Go down the snakes
Call yourself a cab
(it’s mistaken identity)
Tie that rope
(around your neck)
Make a list
~ DE BA. UE
[Image] http//i1.wp.com/timemanagementninja.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Empty-Todo-List.jpg?fit=600%2C401&ssl=1
~ DE, BA UE
Is it the silly season . . . yet?
Will it be putty in our hands?
Will the cow jump over the moon?
Will the dish run away with the spoon?
And if they do – will they spoon?
Will the poets have all the answers?
Or will they be locked away,
Babbling in their cages?
With the full moon in Virgo
(the only time this year)
Will that one crow,
Calling from the wood,
Find that second crow
And thus find joy?
Will the moon
(Cow compromised or not)
Be in the Seventh House?
Will darkness
Settle over the land
And stay?
“Tap tap
“Whoosh whoosh
“Tap tap
“Whoosh whoosh”
Is this thing on?
Are we there?
Oh, are we there yet?
~ DE. BA UE
*
An excerpt from my current manuscript: “There Was A Time, Oh Pilgrim, When The Stones Were Not So Smooth”
***********************************
“I’d like Bridget to meet you,” says Alison Alexandra.
“No.” R/Jane-the-Ghost shakes her head. “That can’t happen.”
“She’s my cousin,” says Alison Alexandra. “Blood relation, and straight as a die.”
“No – that’s not the way it works.” R/Jane-the-Ghost smiles. “Even though I like your little pun – trust me.”
“She’s been to the Mansion.”
“Not my department,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost. “As you know – I have not.”
“I’ve noticed that,” says Alison Alexandra.
“Different stages of departure,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost. “As for me – I am well and truly dead.”
“Well then . . .” Alison Alexandra actually tries to see her companion. “Do you have any advice?”
“About what?”
“How to deal with this Pandemic?”
“You’ve got booze stacked away?”
“Yes. And more coming.”
“Then that pretty well covers it,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost. “Creature comforts for the creature. Your spirit will take care of itself.”
“Body and soul,” suggests Alison Alexandra.
“When threatened, your body will be more aware of your soul.” R/Jane-the-Ghost smiles. “The booze will make it easier for you to say ‘hello’.”
“Cousin Bridget would like to know that.”
“Feel free to tell her.” R/Jane-the-Ghost chuckles. “After a drink or two.”
(Image) https://www.cdc.gov/flu/pandemic-resources/images/pandemic-questions-300.png
Yes,
I had been away,
For awhile.
Long enough
To make
The mail
Pile up.
So,
Were the birds looking
In my window to see
If I was home?
First a crow,
Settled on the upper branches
Of the tree,
And glared.
Hopped around and glared,
From branch to branch.
Then a blue jay
Did much the same.
Less glaring but
Just
As inquisitive.
And then a
Chickadee
Dee dee
Hop hop hopping
Light as air.
Branch to branch
&
Twig to twig
Look look
Looking.
If I had been missed,
Now I was found.
~ DE BA. UE
(Image)https://arbordayblog.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/bird-branches-2.jpg
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