A Great “Melody!”

Here is an amazing version of “Unchained Melody” on pan flute and guitar.  Truly beautiful.

Complaining!

Happy Memorial Day!  I ran across a cartoon the other day showing a man and women sitting across from each other over a cup of coffee and the caption read: “I know I should stop whining and complaining . . . but it’s taken me years to get this good at it.” (Randy Glasbergen)

This in turn prompted me to consult my copy of The Highly Selective Thesaurus for the Extraordinarily Literate by Eugene Ehrlich to see what other words could be used for complain or complaining.

The result:
Complaining (adj.): captious, carping, caviling, petulant, querulous, testy.
Complaint (n.): gravamen, jeremiad, plaint.

And, while I’m at it, here is a wonderful quotation about complaints.
“Excuses and complaints are signs of a dreamless life” (Bangambiki Habyarimana)

Political Correctness!

Here is a video clip I ran across a couple of weeks ago where John Cleese discusses political correctness and being offended. Brilliant!

Shenanigans!

Happy Saturday!  Personally, I really like this word (shenanigans) which has been defined as mischief, prankishness, deceit, or trickery (definition is courtesy of www-dot-dictionary-dot-com).  So as we start this extended Memorial Day weekend, here are a couple of images that I found the other day to help put this word in perspective a bit.  The first image provides a little police humor and is evidence that not every one is as enamored of the word as I am, and the second image provides a useful  alternative to the word which may or may not help you when you encounter those who dislike the word, but you just never know — it may be just fresh enough to elicit a smile.

Let’s all go forth and shenanigate!  Enjoy!

Pork is Always an Option!

Pork is always high on my list when it comes to cooking  and I’m always on the look out for new and interesting recipes.  Here’s one with sage and pecan (and blackberries) that sounds positively marvelous!  And while I’m at it, here’s a shout out to my brother — Happy Birthday Andrew!

Sage and Pecan Pork Tenderloin Cutlets

Ingredients
1 cup of red wine vinegar
5 Tablespoons of seedless blackberry preserves
1/2 teaspoon of salt
1 pound of pork tenderloin
3/4 cup of fine, dry breadcrumbs
1/2 cup finely chopped pecans
2 teaspoons of rubbed sage
2 large eggs, beaten
4 teaspoons of olive oil
Garnish: fresh blackberries, fresh sage leaves

Directions
1.  Bring vinegar to a boil in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to medium and cook 6 minutes or until reduced by half.  Stir in preserves, and cook 5 minutes.  Stir in salt.

2.  Remove silver skin from tenderloin, leaving a thin layer of fat covering meat. Cut pork into 8 slices.  Place pork between two sheets of plastic wrap, and flatten to ¼-inch thickness.

3.  Stir together bread crumbs, pecans, and sage in a shallow bowl.

4.  Dredge pork in breadcrumb mixture, dip in beaten eggs, and dredge again in breadcrumb mixture.

5.  Cook 4 pork slices in 2 teaspoons hot oil in large nonstick skillet over medium heat 8 minutes or until done, turning every two minutes. Repeat procedure with remaining pork and oil.  Serve with vinegar mixture, and garnish if desired.

It Was Simple and Spacious . . . !

The verses definitely are coming together a lot more quickly (and easily) than the refrain.  Here’s the next partial verse.

In the middle of spring time,
Trees and flowers abloom,

A dream that won’t end,
Or disappear;
A dream that will offer you strength,
Year after year.

 

This project turned out to be much tougher than originally anticipated.

The Urban Lifestyle!

I can’t explain it, but despite having grown up on a farm (a vineyard with winery, actually) in rural northern lower Michigan, I have always been drawn to the city.  I’m apparently much more comfortable with the hustle and bustle that accompanies an urban environment.  So here are some definitions of the word “city” that I found in my copy of The Cynic’s Dictionary by Aubrey Dillon-Malone.

“A place where you are least likely  to get a bite from a wild sheep.” (Brendan Behan)

“Not a concrete jungle, but a human zoo.”  (Desmond Morris)

“Millions of people being lonely together.”  (Henry Thoreau)

“The only desert still available to us.”  (Albert Camus)

Autumn at Medicine Park!

Here is a painting that I acquired last year at an opening reception for a local artist, Micheal Jones, exhibit/show at Dana Jones Art (Art Studio and Gallery) in downtown Broken  Arrow.  I made the fatal mistake of attending this reception (with no intention of purchasing anything) and walked away as the new owner of this exquisite painting.  The artist: Micheal Jones; the title: Autumn at Medicine Part; the medium: oil; the dimensions (framed): 19 x 22; the enjoyment: ongoing.  I recently reconfigured the paintings hanging in my bedroom to accommodate, and more efficiently display, the many new acquisitions over the last year or so.  It is always a unique challenge (similar to a jigsaw puzzle) to effectively utilize the existing free wall space as my collection continues to grow.  I’m not out of space yet . . .

A Bit of Sarcasm!

I tend to use sarcasm as a form of humor, but sometimes I overdo it and my comments can come across as cruel, so I’m trying to work on not being such a mordant comedian.

mordant

\ mawr-dnt \; adjective,

1.  sharply caustic or sarcastic, as wit or a speaker; biting.

2.  burning; corrosive.

3.  having the property of fixing colors, as in dyeing.

noun,

4.  a substance used in dyeing to fix the coloring matter, especially a metallic compound, as an oxide or hydroxide, that combines with the organic dye and forms an insoluble colored compound or lake in the fiber.

5.  an adhesive substance for binding gold or silver leaf to a surface.

6.  an acid or other corrosive substance used in etching to eat out thelines, areas, etc.

7.  Music. mordent.

verb (used with object),

8.  to impregnate or treat with a mordant

Self-Denied, Part Three!

Here is the continuation of “Self-Denied” generally attributed to Thomas, the sixth Earl of Harrington (circa 1730).  The first part of this poem poem was posted Friday, the second part was posted yesterday, and this the final part is posted today.  Enjoy!

The Self-Denied (Part 3)

. . . continued from Part 2 which was posted yesterday.

“But how can John that law obey,
“When you are cross, and answer nay?
“Believe me, Mary, you are wrong,
“Your body doth to John belong;
“And it is sin if you refuse
“What he by law is free to use.
“My godly wife, and all the wives
“In Glasgow, who lead praying lives,
“Whenever their husbands think it fit,
“Most cheerfully in this submit:
“You now have changed your stage of life,
“Then be a kind complying wife.”

‘Twas thus the reverend man advised,
Nor was his good advice despised;
Sweet Mary thanked him for his care,
And begged that they might join in prayer,
For asking counsel and direction,
For conduct and divine protection.

He prayed, and then the virgin bride
Confessed that she was edified;
That, by the help of grace and prayer,
She had got light in this affair;
So, after Mr. Clark was gone,
And she and spouse were left alone,
she warmly kissed the loving man,
And, smiling on him, thus began: —
“Dear friend, I have been in the wrong,
“Bit will not so continue long,
“The holy man was in the right,
“I’ll do what you desire at night;
“But if, till then, you’re loath to stay
“You only have the word to say,
“I know my duty’s to obey.
“Your purpose you may now fulfill,
“And use your hand-maid as you will.”

The husband’s heart was full of joy,
To find the bride no longer coy,
Yet did not dally,  like a fool,
To give the fair one time to cool:
but, with a thousand kisses, led
The silent Mary to the bed,
Where like a lamb she passive lay,
For she knew nothing of the way:
But soon he did her legs divide,
And in a moment made the bride
Cry out, “for God and Heaven’s sake John,
“O let! O let the thing along!
“Is this the conjugal delight?
“O cruel John, you kill me quite;”
“But now, ’tis in, ’tis in,” she cried,
“If God, by this, were glorified,
“And if it were for your soul’s gain,
“Though verily it gave me pain,
“I’d wish it never came out again.”

Note: printed on the page following the title page was the following: “from a collection of poems that have been generally ascribed to Thomas, sixth Earl of Harrington. He was the son of Charles, the fifth Earl, and Margaret Lesslie, Countess of Rothes; and fought on the Royal side at the battle of Shirreffmuir, along with his brother John Lesslie, Earl of Rothes, and his own son, Lord Binning. These poems, according to Pinkerton, were printed about 1730, and have been reprinted in 1753, 1765, 1767, and 1777. He was also the author of Mia treatise on forest trees, which has gone through several editions. He died in 1735.” However, if these dates are correct (and I am by no means an expert historian in such matters), these poems could only have been written by either the first or second Earl of Harrington (William Stanhope and W.S. Jr.).