Hallowe’en Pet


This being a week before Hallowe’en I got all silly and conjured a poem. I like long poems that run on, and now I have mastered the art of clip art insertion, so y’all might want to look away.

house 1

Hallowe’en Pet

by Lora Reynolds

“Oh Mother oh Mother

come quick and come see:

I’ve just brought home

a little monster with me!”


“Sonny, oh Son

What’s got into your head?

This thing, it might eat us,

and kill us ’til dead!”

“No Mom, no way,

he’s just a wee thing

when he clenches his fangs

you can hear his ears sing!”

“Sonny, oh boy,

this just will not work.

The rules say ‘no pets’

and the landlord’s a jerk.”

“But Mom he’s so cute

and so awfully alone.

It’s dark out and rainy-

just one night? At home?”

“Why not a unicorn

like when I was a kid?

Or a useful sad elf

like your grandfather did?”

“Those live in forests

of magic and trees,

not behind thrift stores

in lonely alleys.”

“So that’s where you’ve been!

I’ve been calling all day.

You were in the back streets

where the weirdos all play!”

“They’re not weird, no,

just misunderstood.

They have lots of fun

in their magical ‘hood.”

“Fun is fine

’til someone gets hurt.

Stay away from them now

and wash off that dirt.”

“What about Frankie?

I want him here safe.

I want him to stay,

he’s just a poor waif!”


“For one night tonight

and one night alone.

He’s still not your pet,

but I’ll throw you a bone.”

“Oh thank you dear mother!

I promise this much:

no bloodshed, no fires,

no screaming and such!”

“Now go do your homework,

now go do your chores.

Your dad’ll be home soon

to argue some more.”

“So help me, Mom,

make Dad for to see

how Frankie is very,

very good for me.”

“I suppose it’s ok.

I’ll do what I can.

Afterall, your dear father

once had a wolfman.”


“Oh Frankie, let’s run

up the stairs and go bide.

‘Til Dad says ‘ok’

you’d better go hide.”

“Frankie, oh Frankie!

Let go of the cat.

Dad says it’s ok now;

you’re home and that’s that!”

The End.



Recipe: insta cake

>SEE UPDATE by scrolling down<

This is my chance to get some posts in before I get back into the regular school week. We have a day off to observe Columbus Day, which, like most traditional holidays, is under attack for being politically uncool. So today I finally made a recipe that has been tacked to my bulletin board for a few years.

These are the ingredients:

one box of flavored cake mix and one box of 1-step angel food cake mix.

Here are the instructions:

Mix both boxes together in a bag to mix evenly, then transfer to a container that seals well.

To make one tiny cake, mix 3 Tb mix with 1 Tb water in a microwaveable bowl. The mix will swell so use a bowl at least twice as big as the wet mix.

Microwave for 1 minute.

Cool, then eat.

This makes a tiny little yellow cake, very sweet and light. I finally made it today, and I think I am sorry. Everyone in the family is now able to make many, many tiny little cakes.

And now the sweet evil shall spread.


This is how we do things at home. 😉


After experimenting, I just want to shout out that this recipe NEEDS adjusting. The first issue we encountered is the wattage of our microwave- ours is high, and tends to burn every other insta cake. So we cook for about 50 seconds. Also, we think the ratio of dry to liquid is skewed- it seems to need more liquid. Finally, every other little cup or bowl seems to need its own cook time, depending on size and shape. I’m not really interested in developing a recipe for each and every size and shape of cup or mug stacked in the cupboard. The good news is this stuff tastes kinda good if it is a little burnt, kinda like burnt microwave popcorn. And we get to experiment some more. Sacrifices in the name of kitchen science must be made! 😉

Book review: Life is a Miracle

It’s been a while since I posted. I want to do creative writing, but haven’t had enough creative urge. I was tempted to add another older write of mine on here, and I will get to that eventually. But I took down a book from the shelf this morning and started reading through just for the parts I had underlined. This can be a real relief when a person wants to read but can’t focus at the moment. The book is Wendell Berry’s Life is a Miracle: an essay against modern superstition. Here’s the cover:

Life is a Miracle: An Essay Against Modern Superstition

Here are some of the extensive underlinings I wandered through as I revisited this book:

“To treat life as less than a miracle is to give up on it.”

“To trust “progress” or our putative “genius” to solve all the problems that we cause is worse than bad science; it is bad religion.”

“For things cannot survive as categories but only as individual creatures living uniquely where they live.”

“The hard and binding requirement that freedom must answer, if it is to last, or if in any meaningful sense it is to exist, is that of responsibility.”

“One cannot, in honesty, propose to reconcile Heaven and Earth by denying the existence of Heaven.”

“We should abandon the idea that this world and our human life in it can be brought by science to some sort of mechanical perfection or predictability.”

“Resist classification.”

“An idea of health that does not generously and gracefully accommodate the fact of death is obviously incomplete.”

And those are the short ones. I have plenty of paragraphs marked all the way through as well. Berry is either a naturalist poet or a poetic naturalist. He uses reason without ignoring emotion and in fact embraces emotion as part of the overall compass we use to navigate through life. I rarely hear this kind of respect towards listeners or readers from environmentalists or scientific minds. Berry is organic. He has a well rounded completeness to him that I don’t observe in many people engaged in the large public discourses over humanity, Earth, the individual, and freedom and responsibility. Berry also does not try and define my life by his rules. This alone makes me want to cry just from relief.

In conclusion, this is a fantastic book, one long essay with many facets. This is the kind of stuff I think about and this is how I think about it, except Berry expresses it so much more clearly. His is a vital, prophetic voice in our nation, and I cannot emphasize enough that everyone should become familiar with his writing. Not only does he present urgent warnings as a naturalist (not as an environmentalist!) but his writing by its very style breaks with resounding thunder the frantic rationalizations of our media-soaked Molotov cocktail version of democratic discourse.
Anyway, some of the absolute best writing I have encountered in a very long time. His writing will prove timeless as well, because it discusses timeless themes: man, nature, woman, seeds, soil, seasons, thought, writing, imagination, freedom, responsibility, connection, and so much more.
Stunning writing. He always makes me cry, or lose my breath, or want to run down the street shouting quotes to the neighbors.
A short book, a big keeper.

Classified ad: found

Found (on purpose): one rainy Friday afternoon with school done (or at least set aside), no pressing plans, and tacos for supper. Old black and white movie might possibly be observed in the area. No need to call and claim; anyone can make a quiet evening at home, and it is highly recommended as a regular practice. Stress levels are low, voices are calm, even a little sleepy, and no one is really paying any attention to the clock. Physical descriptions of found item vary by household. There may be children and there may be tangled blankets half-spilled onto the floor. Hot chocolate may also be found in close quarters.

Lackadaisical Autumn weekend awaits.