Master Card and Mistress Visa

23 Jun 2014 Leave a comment

by Quietude's Junction in poetry Tags: , ,

(You know who you are…)

Master Card and Mistress Visa
Met on a balcony one day
Said Master Card to his lady
“Fair one, we should go play!
For in the village by the brook
Is waiting a lady fair
And her lord wouldst buy for her
A most cuddle-some teddy bear!”

Mistress Visa nodded once
Then raised her eyes and smiled
Ne’er has there been nor e’er will be
A more handsome man beguiled
For what she knew was something “sweet”
Yet, something all too true
For the lord who wandered in the town
Had a credit card of blue

Said she, “Her loving lord
Shall purchase a soft little bear
And then when he is walking off
Perhaps a bauble for her hair
Then later as he walks this way
And that within the town
He might espy some lovely silk
Of which to make her gown.”

Said Master Card with a curious gleam,
“My lady you are so devious
How could I ever dared esteem
To ever be as mischievous?
You’ve planted ideas in his mind
For an afternoon to buy
Everything within the market
And all without a sigh.”

Said Mistress Visa, not quite coy,
“Dear sir, you accuse my style?
Why sir, it is with efficiency
That I encouraged his country mile.
For in this day he will have spent
What could be the ransom of a king
And at day’s end it all will be
With the purchase of a ring

He won’t know how he did it
He probably won’t care
But in the end with charges many
To look at the bill, he won’t dare
He’ll justify it to his lass
She was worth it all, you see
That is, of course, unless she too
Ends the day with charger’s glee.”

Thai Lemon-Ginger Chicken Soup

23 Jun 2014 Leave a comment

by Quietude's Junction in Cooking Tags: , , , , ,

Cooking and I have a very close relationship. If a person pays close attention to what I am preparing, they can pretty much tell what mood I’m in and whether I am healthy or on the edge of sick. Overall, my cooking is beginning to lean more and more towards Middle Eastern and Thai. I’ve learned that when I prepare foods from those areas that my body responds better and heals faster. So, now when I fix chicken soup, well, it isn’t the soup I learned to prepare when I was growing up. Here is the soup that I fixed literally the day before I came down with my current summer cold. I think had I paid attention to the ingredient list and what I was making, I might have picked up a few “anti-cold” meds too, lol but even the cook doesn’t always know how the soup will turn out 😉

Thai Lemon-Ginger Chicken Soup
1 3-4 pound chicken (I never cut them up. I just boil them whole until they fall/pull off the bone)
½ large white onion sliced
½ large red onion sliced
1/2-3/4 cup sliced mushrooms (depends on your taste)
1 C fresh green beans broken into bite size chunks
1 large salad pack of baby spinach, gently shredded
½ package of shredded broccoli/carrot/cabbage for salad (not mixed up just the veggies)
¾ C orzo uncooked
½ of a large palm of fresh ginger shredded or diced (I do both depending on my mood)
¼-1/2 C Mazzi’s Thai Sweet Chili Sauce
1 32 oz Chicken Broth
Zest of 1 large lemon (NO WHITE PITH. The pith makes it VERY bitter!)
Juice of the same lemon
3 egg yolks
½ Tbs Lemon pepper (more can be added later if your lemon is not strong.)
½ tsp Cumin
½ tsp Ground Mustard
½ tsp Cilantro
2 heaping TBS fresh minced Garlic (or jar garlic)
Salt to taste (I have actually forgotten to salt it a few times)

1) Take out the inside bag of organs from the chicken. Boil the chicken with the WHITE onion, lemon-pepper, garlic, and a touch of salt for the water. I usually bring the water almost up to coat the top of the chicken then layer the spices thickly on top. This will take up to an hour depending on your stove and how hot you boil things. Where I live, I can’t use “high” or the fire alarm goes off, so some things take a bit more time to cook.
2) You will know that the chicken is done when you touch a knife or a fork to it and the flesh falls away from the bones. At this point I set out a huge bowl with a colander in it. DO NOT throw away the water! You want it to help make the soup! Strain the chicken.
3) After it has cooled, remove the chicken from the bones and put it back into the pot.
4) Add the broth, the veggies (red onion, spinach, green beams, broccoli mix, garlic), lemon zest, and the spices at this time. Simmer/low boil for 1 hour. (Here I put a lid cracked to the side a little to let some of the steam stay inside. Just check it and stir occasionally.)
5) Save out about 2-3 cups of the water you boiled the chicken in a medium bowl. Add the rest of the mix except the fat to the new soup. (Here I use a turkey baster so I’m pulling up from the bottom and avoiding the fat on top.)
6) With the last 2-3 cups, add the 3 egg yolks. Whisk them into it. This you will add to the soup. It will thicken it, giving it a murky depth.
7) Add the Thai Sweet Chili Sauce, stir it in well. (You may choose to add more if you want it spicier.)
8) Add the orzo and the lemon juice. Return to boil. Orzo cooks very fast and will retain its shape over time.
9) Taste. At this point you may or may not choose to add salt.

Serve hot once the orzo is cooked.

This makes a nice soup pot for a gathering. It also freezes well for those of us with smaller families who cook big and need to freeze for later 

Buy Me Something Icy

17 Jun 2014 4 Comments

by Quietude's Junction in Fantasy: Shorts Tags: , ,

“You’re a god? Right, tell me another one!” That’s usually the last thing most mortals get out before I blast ‘em. Granted, not very godlike, but hey, I’m not half demon for nothing, right? A girl’s gotta have her fun! At least I don’t eat them, well not anymore. Mom thinks she cured me of that a few decades ago. Fact is, mortals just give me indigestion, now.

But, I guess I should tell ya something about myself, huh? I could lie. I mean, I could make my daddy REALLY proud and tell you I’m some svelte five foot ten blonde who goes around in itty bitty shorts who likes to bend over, with super long legs and huge … I’m sure you can fill in the blanks there all of you with the filthy minds! Get your head out of the gutter, puhlease!

After all what’s wrong with me? SO what if my head doesn’t even begin to reach your shoulder blade! I count, too! Well, ok, I’m not even a blonde much less svelte. Yep, bleach is my best friend. Even us goddess types need a little help every now and then.

But then again, I’m only half goddess. You see my parents have this deal with the pantheon. It’s kinda like the one the Greeks had with Persephone, but WAY COOLER than that. You see, my Mom is the goddess of the hunt and my dad is the primo demon of torture. Do ya get it? Yep, half the year I get to hunt stuff with Mom. We have fun, but even that gets a little boring after a while. I mean, Mom’s into this hunt and release mode right now. What’s the point? I mean, she won’t even kill it to eat it anymore. All we do is hunt, hunt, hunt, with no reward. The second half of the year, Dad and I go out to torture the creatures that we hunt. But Dad’s not only about physical torture, he’s also into the emotional kind.

SO, I get to use the skills Mom has ingrained in me in the mortal world with all of you unsuspecting men. I may not be the buxom blonde that you adore, but I can pull you in, just the same. Once I get you into my clutches, Dad’s skills come into play. Did I say play? Oh YEAH! So, come on over, buy me something icy.

The Night Has Teeth

17 Jun 2014 Leave a comment

by Quietude's Junction in poetry Tags: , ,

Journey of the Damned “TNHTeeth Challenge”

As the day lingered until it finally succumbed to dark
He waited in the shadows
His coat and frayed jeans hiding him in the depths,
The corners of the life sucking denizens of the city
He knew “It” was out there waiting to strike
Knew with every atom of essence within his dark soul
Knew also, that he had waited long enough
The time had come

Once a long time ago, they knew each other
At one time they had been inseparable
That was until the Hunger overtook their friendship
The Hunger changed them irreparably
Bringing about fits of berserk feeding frenzies in one
While forcing bouts of deepest loathing and depression in the other
Normally, he stayed away, ignoring the feeding
He couldn’t any longer
That life taking feeding had entered his domain
Little did “his friend” know but he had returned
To follow, to stalk, to hunt

Through the dark alleys among the drink- saturated brains
He stalked, wrapping shadows around him without a thought
Only those already damned souls knew he was there
Their greedy hands followed him, begging in remorse
Begging for forgiveness
Only to be snatched back as he
Turned his glowing eyes upon them
Who was he to forgive them that which he had committed?
Who was he to pardon them?
He who had fallen further than they could ever hope to fly
NO, he grimaced to himself
He was no saint, no preacher, no holy man anymore
He was just as damned as they, if not more so

Only one question remained to be asked in his mind
Who was the monster?
The stalker or that which stalks it?

Jon Quinn

17 Jun 2014 Leave a comment

by Quietude's Junction in Fantasy: Shorts Tags: , , ,

Night swept around him coloring the air in dank decrepitude. Standing, looking at the ground where he had just dropped the last of the demons, Jon Quinn knelt, touching his sword tip to the earth. Killing, fighting, protecting those he loved and those who would never know him was getting harder with each year. His body was a mass of scars both inside and out. Scars that would never heal for the promises he had made. His head bowed to the blood soaked demon before him as he made his prayers and released the soul of the lost one to the beyond. Perhaps this one would choose to not return.

As he rose, bones creaking with age, he caught a whiff of sandalwood echoing among the dank graves. No one was with him, he knew that, yet, there it was, that smell that told him it was time. Squaring his shoulders, Quinn walked to the oldest part of the cemetery where the vines drooped from tree limbs covering the ground. The markers had long disintegrated into dust and crumbled stones, the old stone path barely a deer track now, but he knew the way. When he came close to them, the vines breathed of him, waving to and fro gently touching him, then shifted out of the way revealing the most ancient of tombs yet still untouched by age.

The onyx tomb doors were open. Elyan was here. Gripping his blood caked sword in front of him, Quinn squared his shoulders and entered. Candles danced lighting around him as he walked to the center of the tomb, looking but not seeing her, not surprised. He pulled out a single white piece of cloth to wipe the blood from his sword, cleaning it as the fabric absorbed the mess as if drinking the blood into itself, drinking in the evil. Clean again, he raised the sword up with both hands in front of him and knelt samurai style in front of the altar ready for her bidding. He tipped his head back, but not in supplication, but rather waiting for her order, her demand.

“It is time, Jon Quinn. You’re usefulness is up.” Her sibilant voice slid over the marble. He heard rather than saw her scales slide around the columns of the tomb until she was finally before him. Her lovely face before him, stern eyes filled with determination and remorse.

“I see you are ready.”

Quinn’s hands shook as he lowered his sword accepting his fate. His would not question her this time. Gently, he placed his sword beside his leg, ready to complete his task.

“I know, bright one,“ His aged voice faltered as he undid his kimono never taking his eyes off of hers.

“You served our master well, this lifetime.” Her voice cracked and a ripple raced through her scales. Reaching a hand out, she traced his face softly, pushing his long gray locks out of the way. Leaning over she kissed his lips one last time, for this was the moment left to them, then curled her emerald body around him, cuddling his human one to hers trying to alter this never-ending cycle of pain that he had bargained for in order to save her.

“My Elyan, it is as it is” Quinn closed his eyes, nodded then raised his sword. In one quick slice, he ended this life. With his head slumped, he fell over into her arms as she brought him close to her serpentine body. She watched while his life’s blood drained away, coating her scales, her eyes filled with tears and her scales slowly faded. Moments ticked past into miniature eternities as she became human for the last seconds of his life to hold him as he lay within her arms. Such was their fate.

This time she tried so hard to hold the tears back to not cry, but that too was not to be had and her hot tears came. Tears of sorrow, tears of shame, tears of years, centuries of servitude so that the demon who craved her would never find her. Pulling him closer and closer to her, wishing he didn’t need to do this ever again, but knowing the deal that had been made, she let them fall upon him. Crystal tears of life erasing the scars of age, erasing the lines of years, but never to erase the experiences he had served. With a soft breath, she kissed him one last time knowing this would be the last time she could hold him until the end came again. She said with tears in her voice as she felt the emerald scales begin anew,

“Rise, Jon Quinn, to serve again!”

Next Newer Entries