Holiday Cookies

It's that time of year.

Flourdust flutters.

Scents of sugar and spice

aromatize kitchen air.

Tasters peek in. 

©CV, 2020

Years ago, I watched my Nonnie knead dough made of gooey batter. Her roller pin was long and heavy for a little girl, but her aged hands helped me roll the dough with precision. Years have passed, most recipes not recorded, but memories remain. I can still see the array of Christmas cookies always ready for little fingers to nibble on. There was an enormous dark closet that held foot-high honey dolls. Chewy biscottis, cherry-pieced cookies with lemon frosting, mincemeat confections, and many more Italian cookies were freshly-baked. My grandmother passed on her love and skill for baking to my mother who shared her talents with me. I shared my love of baking chocolate chip cookies with my daughter who joins my sister and me as we bake with my 3-year-old granddaughter. I usually shy away from rolling dough, but this year I thought I would try to make sugar cookies for my 3-year-old granddaughter. I left a box with the family when I traveled to Virginia for my newly-built home pre-settlement walkthrough. I found a Christmas video in Sierra's Google Photos album. She seemed to like Grandma's recipe for anise-flavored chocolate chip cookies, a variation on my Nonnie's chocolate chip Italian cookies. 

Thinking ahead for Christmas Baking:

   Christmas confections

 lOvingly made as

  Obligatory musts for

  Kris Kringle who

    Irresistibly

  Eats every bite and leaves a

  Special thank you 

            ©CV, 2020   

           🎄🎅🦌🎄🎅🦌🎄🎅🦌

 

I now move over to Slice of Life Tuesday at Two Writing Teachers with recollections of every bite of Christmas cookies I taste-tested these past few days. I plan to enjoy baking the other batches yet to come. 

March Musings' Recollection

When my writing colleague, Ramona Behnke, quoted the above in a recent blog, I knew that it would inspire me to write a reflection for the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. While the journey was long and some days not conducive to writing, I continued with diligence, networking with others and growing as a writer. There were thirty-one days of penning my thoughts under the title series, March Musings, and then, the aha moment - a release of joy, like a soft rain gently falling to earth. 

I bundled my thoughts.

Tied them with a ribbon

And tucked them under a 

Soft mattress of recollection

Waiting for springtime rain

To wash over me with warmth. 

April awakened the writer inside!

NOTE:
The series of digital compositions were artistically created using a photo taken with my iPhone and then, digitized with the PicMonkey app. 

I once again would like to thank the TWT Writing Team, Betsy, Beth, Deb, Kathleen, Lanny, Lisa, and Melanie, led by Stacey Shubitz for honoring writing at Two Writing Teachers' Slice of Life each Tuesday.

I also thank Laura Robb for her sound advice when I decided to rekindle my love for creative writing: Write Every Day!

The digitals and poems in this slice are part of my #poetrylisciouspoetry collection for National Poetry Month.

March Musings 30: Dreary Day

Strange Occurrence

Crackle!
Boom!
Total Quiet!

You came through the gray clouds
 with a lion's roar
and the speed of a cheetah.
You jolted the sky,
and then, quietly left,
leaving the pelting rain
as your calling card.

Did you mean to announce
your entrance with forcefulness?

No, I was just playing a spring song
to spark a dreary day.

©Carol Varsalona, 2017

Only once before in my lifetime did this strange occurrence happen. I thought I had forgotten the incident but yesterday the drive in the rain to the hair stylist brought back a dreadful childhood memory. When I arrived at my destination, the talk of the day revolved around the booming noise in the sky. No lightening followed, just the rain and a darker sky were present. Everyone was truly amazed by what occurred.

I last experienced this strange phenomenon when I was five. It was an equally dark day so I remember being wearing a yellow raincoat and carrying an umbrella but the rain gear did not protect me from what happened after I was dropped off. 

As I made my way to the entrance of the basement classroom, huge, roaring cracks ripped through the sky. I was frightened. These strange noises were followed by bright bolts of lightning. I grabbed the handles on the massive soors but  they would not budge. I was locked out of my Kindergarten class. "How could this be?" Feelings of isolation and fear overcame me. I was alone and afraid under a sky that continued to grow darker. With each consecutive booming of thunder, I shouted louder and pounded harder on the doors. My eyes welled with tears. I was just a small child under a darkened sky filled with cracking sounds, lightning bolts, and teeming rain. I could not contain my fear and then, like an angel from the sky, the nun in full habit came to my rescue. I was so relieved to be inside that to this day, I don't remember anything other than total fear and wet clothing that chilled me to  the bone. Yesterday's deafening crackle brought back the heaviness of a five-year old's heart on a dreary, rainy, thunder-and-lightning type of morning.

This is my thirtieth posting in a series titled March Musings for Two Writing Teachers' March Slice of Life Story Challenge.  

Unusual Life Adventure

Stories connect us with our past as we live our present and plan future adventures. 

Everyone seems to be turning their thoughts to summer now that the month of June is here. School is nearing an end in New York State. Some colleagues have already closed their doors to the school year. Summer reading posts are surfacing and spring is winding down. While today is dark and damp, I am lazily lounging and recalling an unusual summer day from the past to gear up for what is ahead. 

Have you ever heard of the sport of spelunking? Although I am not what you call an adventurous person, I did accept a rather bold invitation years ago when I was a graduate student in Albany, NY. A school friend had a deep attraction to caving and decided one rather humid day in Albany to take a ride to the countryside. The ride was a pleasant one that allowed me time to anticipate what was to come. 

When I arrived at the destination, I found an astonishing sight-one small opening in a jagged rock ready to swallow me in. How would I get through that tiny hole and what would I find deep below the earth's surface? These were questions that I pondered. I tried to voice them but the call of adventure was pressing. 

It is hard to explain the attraction of the cave and even more difficult to imagine me entering the bowels of the earth. With only a helmut and a flashlight as my accoutrements, I entered the cavernous space even though I am claustrophobic in tight spaces. After decades, I am recalling that amazing experience that led to a few more.

There is a sense of wonder

below the earth.

Darkness swallows human existence. 

Daylight is diminished.
Dampness surrounds.

Water trickles, breaking silence.

Fear of the unknown is

surpassed by the tranquility

of cavernous walkways.

All is still within the walls.

All is at rest.

I find a sense of peace.

This video brought back the memories of a few spelunking trips outside of Albany. While spelunking is not an adventure I would try again this summer, I am happy that I had this unique experience that connected me with the earth.

This summer, I am considering ways to to experience the mysterious quality of being and the wonder of tranquility. What adventures await you? 

Now turn your attention to Two Writing Teachers' Slice of Life where you will find many more stories to read.