Blue-Eyed Daisy

In my Sunday morning dream world I'm standing behind these people waiting to place my order for a skinny latte and a red velvet cupcake. The Blue Eyed Daisy Bakeshop is a casual neighborhood eatery serving a variety of breakfast items, classic sandwiches, salads and snacks. The bakeshop is stocked with scrumptious treats such as cupcakes, pies, cookies, and tarts. Located in the heart of Serenbe on Selborne Lane. (1/2 hour south of Atlanta, Georgia.) www.Serenbe.com. Serenbe reminds me of Creemore, Ontario.

Photofiction: Cracker Jack

Cracker Jack

Her brain was different.

She couldn’t remember the sweltering hot summer evenings they giggled in the bleachers watching the boys play baseball. After school they’d skip home, gulp down milk on the back shed stoop. The smell of lumpy bags of potatoes and carrots leaning up in the woody, dark corner filled the hot air. After the last bite of the fresh baked cookie they’d race up the back staircase into her bedroom. Fussing and flopping onto the bed; deciding what to wear to the game. Pinching their cheeks with cream rouge and tinting their youthful pouts with red lipstick. Evelyn’s brain was different and her best friend Delores would never be able to thank her.

It was forty-three years later. Evelyn just sat in her chair, lap quilt covering her legs, starring out the window. Delores came every day to visit. There were only three things that lit up Evelyn’s eyes. The taste of Cracker Jack, the feel of her sheepskin mittens of winters long ago and the sight of her tattered photograph of her and Delores. These are the three things that connected them to their past and after an hour of them, Delores would give hugs and walk out the door.

Evelyn and Delores met in fourth grade. There were exactly fifteen row houses between them and two fire hydrants. Evelyn’s parents ran the furrier uptown and many winter afternoons when the storage section of the business was slow, the girls would be hired to clean the large cooler room. Between the racks and empty hangers they would sing and dance; pretending they were on stage; performing to standing ovations and picking up dozens of roses off the creaky wooden floor. Evelyn had an imagination to carry them both through many boring moments. Her eyes would sparkle and then in a snap second she’d come up with a new and exciting idea for fun.

After their housekeeping was finished they would head outside to play in the snow banks; sticking their tongues out to catch fluffy snowflakes. Eve and Delly laughed a lot. Eve possessed the kind of funny bone that made her whole body go weak when she found something humorous. More often than not they landed in the snow bank beside one another, tossing handfuls of snow at each other. One afternoon a reporter from the local newspaper stopped and asked them if he could photograph them. The girls loved this; insisting to their classmates that they had become famous and sure enough, the image landed on the front page along with a story about the severe weather the area was experiencing that year. Eve and Delly were each given a copy of the photo as a keepsake.

Eve and Delly cried a lot too. Mostly about boys and mostly at the baseball field while they ate Cracker Jack as they watched the practices. As they moved through womanhood, mysterious adolescent moods and awkward boyfriend experiences, they supported each other. Giving hugs and making crafty greeting cards. They were always grateful and said so in their many scribbled notes to one another, ‘Thank goodness only one of us gets sad at one time. xo.’

Delly met Jack the year of the girls’ high school graduation. He was new to town and swept her off her feet. Eve was never left behind. It was the unwritten law of the ‘Cracker Jack Girls’, as they were known by everybody who knew them. Delly and Jack and Eve were inseparable. And then Jack proposed.

Eve was the most beautiful Maid of Honor anyone had ever seen. Some whispered, ‘Prettier than the Bride’. After the ‘I Do’s’ it all changed. Delly’s husband became more and more adamant that his new wife be home to see to his needs; pressures of the weak economy brought more stress on the newlyweds. He became irritated at Delly for talking about Eve. He slowly silenced her and quickly built a wall and a wedge between the best friends. People in town saw Eve’s sad eyes. Jack became known as ‘Cracker Jack’. A negative judgment of a husband who erased a childhood friendship.

Eve and Delly were resilient and resourceful. They could speak without speaking, they could communicate by sense and both were determined to change the way things had gone. The baseball diamond was the only place they could visit. Eve started dating a player on Jack’s team. She didn’t even really like him much; she just knew it was her chance at ‘bat’. To be with Delly. To keep her friendship alive.

One evening after dinner, Eve gathered up the courage to walk the three blocks over to Delly’s apartment. She thought it would be nice to sit out on the porch until sunset. Perhaps lemonade. Maybe a few cigarettes. Hopefully acceptance and hugs. What she came upon would change their lives forever.

As Eve approached the building she could hear muffled screams of Jack. He was hollering at Delly. Eve’s heart started pounding as she ran up the narrow stairs to the second floor. She banged on the door calling out for Del. ‘Go away Eve’, he shouted. ‘You have no business being here. Leave!’

Panicking to open the door she yelled to the neighbours below to come and help. Within seconds they ran up to kick in the thick wood door. It slammed to the floor. There inside, huddled in the corner was a tearful, distraught Delly. Covering her head, begging for kindness within a rage of violence. Jack was wielding his baseball bat.

‘Stay away from her Jack’ screamed Eve. ‘Don’t touch her.’

The neighbours tried to calm Jack down while Eve made jerking attempts to get past him. It was a frightful segment of confusion and shouting and fear and pleading. Jack warned them. He threatened to hit Delly if they did not leave his home.

And then Eve moved in. She ducked around Jack to cover Delly. Standing tall she announced to him to back away. And then he swung. The heavy, heaving bat hit Evelyn’s temple with a watery, horrific smack.

Her brain was different.

My Flickr

I haven't been over to my flickr lately. Thought you might like to see a short slideshow. Happy Post Pancake Day. (I haven't forgotten about my photofiction...the 3 short stories are coming.)

Don't Write

Don’t write.

It’s too powerful.

It might tell someone how you feel.

How you hurt.

What you don’t understand.

Don’t write.

It’s too powerful.

It will show who you are on the inside to the outside.

It’ll blow your cover,your nice reputation.

Don’t write.

It’s too powerful.

You might hurt someone’s feelings.

People may not like your words.

They may attack you, or abandon you.

Don’t write.It’s too powerful.

It might give others hope.

Let them know they’re not alone.

It might change minds.

Change directions.

Change the world.

So, whatever you do,don’t write.

Jen Lee is a student of play who learns daily from the masters: her two daughters, ages five and two. She and her husband launched their family on a Grand Adventure when they moved from the suburbs of Denver to Brooklyn's Park Slope in early 2007. Jen writes fiction during nap time and is a regular contributor for the NYC Moms Blog and Hip Slope Mama. You can reach her at jen (at) jenlee (dot) net.

New Media Sweetheart: Lizzy Webb

17 and right on trend with Cheap Chic. In this economy we can all learn a thing or two from this fashion lover. I designed a couple of new headers for her blog. Lizzy, just click, save and publish. (if you like them...don't worry, I won't be offended if they are not your style..I was just having some fun this morning over coffee) You and your Mom are rockin' cool bloggers! LP xo

Think Big and Kick Ass

Celebrity Apprentice about to kick off. Who likes cupcakes?

Introducing Lizzy Webb

Calling all available fashion photogs, magazine editors, bloggers, agents and agencies: This is Lizzy Webb. Destined for fame. Who wants her? Better act quickly. She's got it all going on. A new girl for the masses to love and learn from. Imagine her future! (And she's Joni's 17 year old daughter!)

Sea of Shoes

Young. Delightful. Charismatic. Brave. Shoe Lover. Fashionista for a new generation. Recognized by Teen Vogue and heralded by like-minded shopping 'soles' globally. Sea of Shoes.

My Perfect Blogger

Does this image look familiar? This photo is famous. It's not that it is The Swan House. It's because it is 'My Perfect House' of our beloved blogebrity friend Villa Anna. She has decided to take an extended hiatus from blogging. I say, 'please drop by her blog today and give her the love'. If she feels the 'love' then maybe she'll stick around long enough to realize she is a valuable voice in the blogosphere.

Hurrican Hazel

88 years young. Out and about in the City of Mississauga with Mayor Hazel McCallion. Mayor for 31 years. You have to see this to believe it. Trust me. Nothing can inspire you more to get off the couch. Your jaw with drop.

Plane Crash

This home won Cookie Magazine's 'Home of 2008'. This Mom is strong. Real strong. A beautiful woman. On Saturday, August 16, 2008, Stephanie Nielson was in a plane crash with her husband, Christian Nielson, and his flight instructor, Doug Kinneard, near St. Johns, Arizona. Doug Kinneard passed away soon after arriving at the Maricopa County Hospital. Christian & Stephanie remain in critical condition at Maricopa Burn Center. Christian has sustained burns on over 30% of his body. His wife Stephanie’s body was burned over 80%. Since 2005, Stephanie has welcomed us into her charming abode through the NieNie Dialogues. Far from being a product of creative editing, the Nielson’s don’t just shine through the selective lens of a blog. They are ingenuous examples of family devotion, eternal romance, and Christ centered faith. This site is dedicated to their welfare & recovery. You can follow along this family's road to recovery here and you can read Stephanie in her own words, on the day she returned to her blog.

Come for My Photofiction Breakfast

And read my photofiction pieces for the next 3 mornings. Begins Wed, Feb. 25th, 2009. I'll serve you up some hot, steaming & sweet waffles.

The Huffington Post

I don't want to be employed by anyone. I'm not looking for a J.O.B. (just over broke). I'm very happy being me, doing my thang and moving onward and upward. I'm a 'Cultural Producer'. I write and photograph and blog and plan and create and design. That's who I am. Having said that, I would like to put it out there that I'd love an ongoing stint at The Huffington Post, except for the fact that more recently, I feel like 'they're' yelling at me. Do you get that feeling too? The font size of their top headlines are getting bigger and bigger - gianormous in fact - to the point where I feel as though they are shouting at me. I sit here with my hands over my ears. I'm getting a headache and I love, love, love Huffpost. (I've read every book Arianna has ever written and I'm now reading their blogging book) Yes, the economy is bad. (Have you seen Corine's incredible post today?) Yes, they have to make an impact because they are competing against CNN (sound & motion picture), but Dear Huff post: I love the font size of The NY Times and Washington Post and CNN and yes, Liberty Post. On a more positive note, this dress is killer and I want it and the necklace. I'M SHOUTING IT TO THE ROOFTOPS. I WANT THAT DRESS !!!

FREE Magazine Subscription

Liberty: The right and power to act, believe, or express oneself in a manner of one's own choosing.

Post: To place text on a Web site or in this case, a 'Magablog' - Post also means column, mail (email/internet), position (editor-in-chief) & inform.

Gallery of Goods: IMAGES + IDEAS

Magablog: a lifestyle magazine in a blog format.100% original editorial content. "Not on newstands now. Available everywhere online." No trees were used to produce Liberty Post. Subscriptions are FREE.

I started Liberty Post because once I had discovered blogs, I realized I could publish a full-bodied lifestyle magazine for FREE. I also took great pride in the fact that I could offer Liberty Post for FREE.

In this economy you can always trust Liberty Post to be within your budget. In fact, I've seen the President's speech for tonight and he mentions this fact. (wink)

Pink Slips

Scary Pink Slips (Layoff Tracker) here. OMG

Sexy Pink Slips (Frou Frou Fashionista) here.

Leftovers

The flickering globe light gurgled across the bubbles and velvet warm water. She saw it's reflection. She looked into the sink to see if she could reveal; remember him, his face kissing her neck, behind her - hugging her as she washed up their dinner dishes. No sign of him there either. The new dish towel with barely enough cutlery to dry. Valentines was only just but a week ago and now all that remains is the dried and curly rose. A bloom still ripe with scent. A memory of that evening. He didn't show up again tonight and he hasn't called. She moved the wavy length of hair away and off her blushing face. Tomorrow's lunch would be easy. Leftovers.

3 more delicious 'photofiction' by moi coming for you this week. Stay tuned. LP xo

(Also if you get a chance, this blogger would appreciate it if you would follow her.)

Freida Pinto

Mirror Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all. She is. In my humble opinion.

Better Than Your Bubby's Chicken Soup Challenge

The Better Than Your Bubby's Chicken Soup Challenge is sponsored by The National Jewish Outreach Program. Visit us at http://www.njop.org/. Happy cooking! How do you make your chicken soup?

Cairo Bazaar Bomb

And out of no where in the night air. A bomb. Khan el-Khalili is a major souk in the Old City of Cairo and a major tourist attraction. The district is one of Cairo's main attractions for tourists and Egyptians alike.

In addition to shops, there are several coffeehouses, restaurants, and street food vendors distributed throughout the market. The coffeeshops are generally small and quite traditional, serving Arabic coffee and usually offering shisha. The al-Hussein Mosque is also in Khan el-Khalili; Al-Azhar University and its mosque are not far away. Naguib Mahfouz's novel Midaq Alley is set in an alley in Khan el-Khalili.

The market was a target of terrorism during the spate of attacks in Cairo in April 2005. The suicide attack in the market, on April 7, killed 21 people (eleven Egyptians, two French tourists, one American, and seven foreigners of unidentified origin). It was the first attack in the series; this attack drove away tourists from Egypt in general and Khan el-Khalili in particular for some time.

Aren't we all past this type of terrorism yet? When, when will it end? We're all civilized right?

I have just got off skype. My Egypt Girl is fine. She lives very, very close to this souk. Relief.