Got Chicken?

Parenting as a Sacrament of Faith

At the moment of transubstantiation (changing of (the Eucharist bread and wine) into the body and blood of Christ) in every mass, in every Catholic church, in every corner of the known universe, there are specific, sacred words recited together:

Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed. 

Only say the word and I shall be healed.
I shall be healed. 

Power in those words. Power in saying those words aloud. Power in hearing others profess their ability to be healed with a word. The word. YES

Pray for healing and the answer comes, sometimes softly and sometimes with loud trumpets, Yes. That is the word. Shall you be healed? Yes. Shall I be healed? Yes. Shall we all have healing available at any time we're ready to hear the word? YES. 

When I look into the eyes of those I love (and those yet do not know I love) and think these words, there's a shift in the value of what's about to happen between us, because I have deemed it an interaction of healing proportions.  What might the world be like if every interaction held this honor? What the world might be like if we welcomed our children with these words. Child, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.  

And in our souls, we hear the word, Yes. Receive me and be healed. 

If in each and every interaction with our Gifts-as-Children our thoughts began, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed. Might our knee-jerk-bullshit-childhood-connections be shed at last? Might we burst out of our hardened cocoon-of-the-past as the beautiful butterfly-in-the-Now? Might we hear the whisper of Yes, perhaps the shouts of you are better than this? Might we be able to listen, simply because healing is possible? Might we accept our challenges head on if we hear them say, Receive me and be healed? 

I say Yes. ♥

More than Good Bacon

That's right I said More than good bacon. Because bacon in the mornings isn't enough, Sunnyside Up, determined to be worthy of so much more of your time, affection, and paycheck, has brought me you night-time bacon. That's right. Friday and Saturday nights, you can join me for some crispy pork 'round the community table. Phil even made my plate all pretty ♥ 

Indeed, however, there is more to this Sunnyside Up Master Plan than an evening of fatback (backfat?), oh yes, there is still MORE!

Jon wants more of your waistline, too, so he's dubbed me Pastry chef and commissioned irresistible desserts. Desserts that will make you glad you were born, just to have tasted them. Desserts I get to make my-very-own-self. Desserts filled with the passion of my calling. Desserts I hope taste of all that is good and right in the world, for they represent all that is good and right in My World.

Perhaps your heart is not stirred by bacon, flourless chocolate cake with handmade raspberry sauce, nor (soon-to-be-famous) cheesecake with handmade rum caramel sauce... perhaps you need, for your tastebuds' bodhicitta moment, some of my most amazing carrot cake featuring maple cream cheese frosting

My Carrotcake happens to be best accompanied by a Beefcake from Kinda Delicious, though a nice Chardonnay or Yeti Warmer will do in a pinch. 

If you get to experience Kinda Delicious with Carrotcake *and* a Yeti Warmer, you're in heaven ♥

'tis Spring again (almost!)

It seems to me, just about the time the human psyche is pulled to it's fullest in one direction, the wind shifts. Spring arrives. The sun shines. There's another chance to do something else.

I've taken to waking up well-rested and happy lately; it's a nice shift. Deciding finally that I've reached my quota of inertia & apathy, especially towards my home. Somewhere along my life's journey, I decided I didn't have the skills to do it all really well and that's meant not doing anything at all. For far too long. 

I know I am genetically predisposed to star on two *reality* television shows currently running: How Clean is Your House? (BBC America) and Hoarders (A&E). I've struggled finding joy in keeping my home, it's such a fight to resist the temptation of apathy. So what if I just skip that fight and keep my damned home, because it creates joy to have a diana-kept home? Fuck-n-a. Hello, Apathy, glad you came to visit, here's the remote. I'll not be needing your services today, I'll be out in the garden or in the kitchen.  For I must also remember I'm genetically predisposed to garden magnificently and create magical baked goods.
The yard is free of debris and junk. The garage is free of nasty rental-house carpet rolls. The porch is free of trash and recycling. The kitchen is shiny and awaiting it's finishing touches. The garden is started and growing. The trees are exploding with pink and yellow and white and green. The world is ready to rejoice in all that is Spring. And so is my Heart. Amen.
(as I hit publish and joyfully wash the clothing for which I am so grateful...)