Finger Licking Good

I love cooking. There is something thrilling in the ritualistic act of gathering the right ingredients and mixing them together properly, in order to transform raw energy into something tasty that brings delight into the eyes (and tummies) of those I love. Well, if I’m to be honest, I rather enjoy eating my own food… understandable, since I love myself a lot.

But more than that, I find bliss in the smiles that brighten my Piano Man’s and The Boy’s faces whenever they get home and the scent of my food is dancing in the air… Few things make me as happy, as when we’re sitting at the table and the Little Princess pulls on my sleeve, rubs her tummy, widens her eyes, and makes exaggerated yummy sounds.

For all those reasons, I’m super excited about today’s prompt: Day 20, of NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, invites everyone to Cook up a poem with a recipe in it. Because not everyone feels like I do about cooking finger licking good bits, feel free to stretch the prompt to add other people’s recipes for foods you love (just make sure you credit the chef).

Instructions

* Leave a link to your poem, as a comment. Include the title of your entry, and the direct link to your post. Example: “NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015”: http://magalyguerrero.com/napowrimo-with-magaly-guerrero-2015/. Visit other Wicked Darlings and comment on their yum. They might visit you (it’s polite).

* If you use this prompt, please link it to your post. And if you are feeling extra delicious, link your poem to the main entry. Show others where to go. Spread the word. Linking back to the source will make everything you cook taste better. Really.

Brewing Coconut Oil (1)click on the image for my Brewing Coconut Oil recipe (butcher knife not included)

Indulgences

I love mangoes. I’ve climbed tall-tall trees to get the last ripe fruit, to take it in my hand, to sink my teeth through its peel, to taste its juices on my tongue, while closing my eyes and grinning… because mango Nirvana is not just something a hippie fruit lover made up.

Yes, my Wicked Luvs, I’ve spoiled myself into the land of fruit-perfect via a mango bite. What about you? How do you celebrate the joys of indulgence? On Day 3 of NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, “Craft a poem about spoiling your Self or the Self of another. Let decadence run wild.”

Please Try Following the Instructions, My Luvs

* Leave a link to your poem, as a comment. Include the title of your entry, and the direct link of your post. Example: “NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015”: http://magalyguerrero.com/napowrimo-with-magaly-guerrero-2015/. Visit other Wicked Darlings and comment on their work. If you do, I’m almost sure they’ll visit you back (it’s politeness with fun in it).

* As a courtesy, please include the link to any prompt you use at the end of your post. If you are feeling extra awesome, also link your poem to the main entry. Show others where to go. Spread the word. Linking back to the source is wicked cool. Really.

Homemade Mango Ice CreamThis is my Homemade Mango Ice Cream; click the link for the recipe.
Today’s prompt was provided by Rommy Driks

Pestle, Mortar, Pratchett

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With my pestle and mortar, I began to grind lavender blossoms and orange leaves.
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“Oh Maga,” Lorelei’s message echoed in my head. “We have lost Terry Pratchett.”

He died surrounded by family and while still remembering who he was, I thought. I hope he got his glass of brandy. I continued pulverizing blossoms and leaves until I had enough to make the biggest cup of tea in the universe.

But I didn’t feel like drinking tea. In fact, I had been sipping French vanilla coffee while pressing pestle to mortar and watching orange leaves and lavender blossoms become something new… and thinking about Terry Pratchett being gone.

I’m not exactly sure at what point in time I decided to put my grinding tools aside, and chose to recycle some left over bits of wax into a new candle.

I started melting the old wax and…
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… grabbed some lavender sprigs…
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…a recycled coffee filter, a pencil, scissors, three pennies and an empty jar;
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I cut the coffee filter into a wide strip, and wrote “You will be missed and remembered…”
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…twisted the strip into a wick, anointed it with rosemary oil, tied one end of it to the pennies, and the other to the pencil, which was balanced over the mouth of the jar;
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I poured the melted wax into the jar, and added three sprigs of lavender when the wax began to set… I stared at the cooling candle for a long time, inhaling its scent, trying not to cry. García Márquez last year and now Pratchett… Death must happen in order for life to continue happening. If not, we’ll run out of room.
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The practical thought didn’t dam my tears, so I repeated the previous process in the making of a smaller candle…
Pestle, Mortar, Pratchett (8)Pestle, Mortar, Pratchett (9)Pestle, Mortar, Pratchett (10)

After removing the pencils and trimming the wicks, I melted a wee chunk of recycled lilac candle, topped the new candles with the purplish liquid, sprinkled some of the lavender/orange powder over the wax, and brought them into my bedroom to finish cooling by me… as I wrote this post…
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The small candle is shining in front of some of my Knight Writer’s books. I will save the one in the golden jar to light on April 29th, Terry Pratchett’s birthday… after he has had his first long conversation with Death; and perhaps, a drink or three with the ghost of Gabriel García Márquez…
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Terry Pratchett
Sir Terence David John “Terry” Pratchett, OBE (28 April 1948 – 12 March 2015)
image via, DailyMail.com