Coon pic yesterday in my little cove; Coon leg eatin' in South Louisiana - LAWD!

yes it is a coon leg - GAAAAACK!

folks, while I'm trying to decide what to do about my blogging schedule, I have, however, decided that at least until I make my deadline for this novel, starting next week I will write a post only once a week on Wednesday and the other two days I will only post a video or photo(s) without words. For now, some of you may remember these -- Enjoy from Fest For All last year 2010 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Lawd be.  

our visiting coon - which we will not be eating thank you very much South Louisiana! :-D laughing

Random Photos of Ice While in the Woods & Pumpkin Bread Morning & Toys for Tots!

I took a walk in the woods along the creek yesterday morning. The temps were in the 20's and it seemed rather nice--when compared to the teens and single digits we've had! Little Cutie Psycho Girl and Not Quite Fat Dog were with me, sniffing away. I snapped photos of "ice sculptures" and roots of trees, mostly. Click on individual photos to make larger if you like.



look at the bent over trees -they're not dead but alive -nature finds a way





trunk looks like it has legs and walking across the forest floor :)



Ah, this is a secret sacred place I won't tell anyone where it is and only a few may know if it. It made it into the Sweetie Novel.

These are of my pumpkin bread morning (from post below). Ah, it turned out lovely. In the recipe, I added pecans, and I also added orange zest, just a touch of lemon zest, and used orange juice in place of the water, and I also added more spices--used fresh nutmeg, and a little cloves and a teeny bit of allspice. This recipe is well-loved and well-used, for years I've had it and it always turns out delicious. I made two batches, and this year I put some Kentucky honey bourbon in one of the batches - ohhhhhh! Thank you to dear Kimmi, author of Unbreakable Child, for that lovely smooth sweet bourbon from her state.

The numbers/letters are worn from this stove already! It's only about 5ish years old! The other side is worse *laugh*

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Yesterday I did the Toys for Tots drive, mailed some packages, and did a little last minute christmas shopping for GMR (shhhhhh!). We just do a few little things for each other and that makes it more fun.

I hope you will remember those in need, especially at Christmas time. If you know of a family in need (and sometimes they are too proud to ask), then reach out to them, or maybe there's a charity in your area that you trust. Toys for Tots is one of my favorites. I'd planned on picking up only a couple of toys, but by time I went to the cash register, well, there were more than a couple in my basket *laughing* -- I had dolls, and trucks, and a musical book, and Play Doh, and games, and a thing that makes art from clay, and I bought an Easy Bake Oven because I never had one so some girl or boy will -teeheehee, and, . . . well, I felt like a big ole kid, I did. Only about twoish weeks until Christmas - can you believe it?

Y'all are the best - thank you for all your comments and support-my Blog Friends are WONDERFUL!

Today, I am going to listen to Christmas music while tidying up the little log house. What's your day look like?

The Power of Social Networking on our Brains . . . The Herbert Mesa Twitter Follow Phenom

Our brains and thought process thereof are strange things. How synapses fire and things connect and rearrange.


This morning, I am particularly thinking of the power of social networking, and in this example, Twitter.

I’ve been kind of mindlessly and listlessly watching Food Network’s “Next Food Network Star,” not really getting into it all that much this season and not really caring who won and sort of reacting a bit negatively to the “I’m a STAR!” thing some of the FN cooks/chefs have really aggressively attached to their names more here lately it seems. But, it’s something to do, television is, when I just want to Not Think.

So, the other day, I go into my email and see that I have new twitter followers. I always check them out, and I follow an eclectic group of people, not just writers and book people, but foodies and artists and people who just make me laugh or think. I'm http://twitter.com/katmagendie .

In my new followers list was Herbert Mesa. The name sounded familiar and when I clicked on it, I saw that it is the Herb Mesa who is a finalist on Food Network Star—the account seemed real enough (sometimes people put up fake accounts), so I thought, why not? And I followed him back. His twitter account is: http://twitter.com/herbmesa by the way .


He posted a few tweets about “Hey Guys! Help me out by voting . . .” and et cetera.

Now, something curious and completely unexpected and unplanned happened next. When I next watched FNS, I suddenly “Saw” Herb as a person that I related to in a way that was connected somehow solely by my brain—he wasn’t just some two-dimensional image on the TV screen. He’d followed me; I’d followed back; he’d asked for help; suddenly I wanted to help him. Mind you, again, before this I was mostly ambivalent.

Next I know, I’m rooting for Herb to do well. Next I know, I’m going on the vote site on Food Network (something I’d not done at all before this) and clicking on his name and the word: “Vote.” Suddenly, I am rooting for this guy because he seemed—what? Approachable? A nice guy? He followed me and that endeared him to me? He simply asked? Whatever my brain synapses decided, they did it on their own and I reacted to that.

Brain whirring and deciding whatever it decided, all from that “Herbert Mesa is following you on Twitter” email I received.

We should never underestimate the power of Social Networking, but beyond that, we shouldn’t underestimate the power of just reaching out and “Following” or “Friending” someone or making a comment on their blog, et cetera—making that personal connection that says “I’m here; I’m a real person; I need your support. Hey, here I am! It’s me!”

Granted, I’ve never gone on any social networking site and asked anyone to buy my books, because, well, that’s a bit different –there’s money involved and it just seems “not right” for me to do that, and books are so personal, you know? However, it makes me very happy when social networking finds me new readers—what if social networking sent my books into Best Seller status (I've been on a couple of "best seller" lists-regionally and on kindle, however!)? I do know that through my blog I have reached many new readers all over the world—something I’d never have done without social networking. And through Facebook, readers have “friended” me and I’ve come to know them (I'm on FB with my name: Kathryn Magendie). Through twitter I’ve ‘met’ some truly wonderful people, too. I’ve found new authors on soc networking myself, and have bought their books--authors I'd never have known otherwise.

So, meanwhile, my brain has flickered and rearranged and somehow decided that I should root for Herb Mesa on Food Network Star, just because he followed me, just because my brain worked out that this was what it wanted me to do. So, well,—go Herb!

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Vomitus americanus & a man a woman and a marriage

I'm going to Re-Blog from a post that I'd written from my MSN blog, before I began my Tender Graces/Virginia Kate Sagas blog. I'm not there much, at Howling from my Mountain. I wrote nature-inspired themes a lot. I wrote about how I was in a play (Bat Boy The Musical). I started a "novel to blog" there. I wrote about rejections letters. I wrote about my writing journey. All kinds of things I'd like to revisit and write about here at my new blogspot home.

Don't forget to scroll down and leave your link for the shopping at blogging community "stores" and local community vendors!

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One evening GMR was at his theater rehearsal. I savored the quiet house. I fell upon the floor and made a dust angel. I went about touching things. Bored and a bit hungry, I went to the pantry and retrieved a can of Campbell’s Vegetarian Vegetable soup. I said, “Hmmm, what can I do with this soup?” (And yes, canned soup, when I have a “Chef” in the house…stop, don’t . . . DON’T JUDGE ME! Stop it now!)

That soup needed something, so why not be creative! Yes! Who needs Chef Ramsey? Who needs Chef John Besh? Okay, I do, but that's another story, teehee.


I remembered the roasted cauliflower GMR prepared the day before. I could add that to the soup (so as not to recognize what it really is: canned soup). I had a momentary thought, “I wonder what GMR would prepare if he weren’t at the theater? I bet some tall blond is all going, ‘oh GMR, you are sooooo wonderful! Ohhh, I wish you were MY husband! I’d sure enjoy your food love….ohhhh your wife is a FOOL munch munch mmmmmm yummmm ummmm ohhhh ummmm!’” *sigh*


I slooshed the soup from the can, added the roasted cauliflower, a little pepper, and then swirled it with the puree thingee . . . hmmm, not quite. I opened the fridge. AHA! Sour cream! I added a dollop of that—Oh! I was clever! And black beans! Hey! I added a few spoons of those. Then I swirled it all about with the puree thingee. Well. Now. There.


Um. Okay. I placed a napkin over it and put the bowl in the microwave. 3 minutes later—KaDing-Done!


When I took off the napkin, what greeted my eyes was what looked exactly like vomit. Yes, Vomitus americanus. Spew. Hurl. I tried to pretend otherwise. I sat down with my spoon and bowl of “Soup” and took a bite, then another—tasted like . . . tasted like . . . the bottom contents of my stomach; yes, just as it looked is what it tasted like: as if I’d eaten it hours ago, let it ferment in my belly, then brought it back up into the bowl. *sigh*


I threw it away, and oh I hate wasting food.



There was a time I cooked, I thought to myself, as I watched the gloppy glunk sludge away, I just choose not to. And, besides, every time I’d cook one of my “specialties” GMR would outdo me—huhmph. Why bother? I can’t win. And we all know it’s about winning, right? We all know marriage is one big ass competition to be on top. To be the best. To be the one everyone says, “You know, She is okay, but HE is wonderful! He is sooooo perfect. SHE doesn’t deserve what she has. Lucky Her. But, she’s okay, I guess. But if he was my husband, I’d appreciate that cooking. But, bless her little heart.”


Later, GMR came home, and in his hand he held the most glorious cinnamon bun I’d ever seen. He said, “Look what I brought you.” I nonchalantly grabbed it out of his hands and scurried away on all fours, growling and sniveling and drooling, “Food! Food! Snnnarrl.” Then I peeled that bun and ate it layer by sweet wonderful layer…ahhhhhh. Twas sweet.


I don’t even know the point to this post. Though there are all kinds of lessons and all kinds of “the moral to this story is . . .” and all manner of women wanting to bomp me upside my head for having a husband who cooks for someone who has become bored with food. I can hear them, “Send him to my house, bee-otch!” And I just smile that smile, that patient one, that one where I know what it means, but they don’t know what it means . . . and then I shrug. Because, really, no one knows the whole story of Man And Woman And Marriage, do they?

Google image: http://www.mauxcreativestudio.com/food%20and%20beverage/cinnamon%20roll.jpg