Today, I had planned to focus my thoughts on those lost 24 years ago on September 11, 2001.
Sadly, I was at home yesterday and saw Charlie Kirk with Turning Point USA assassinated on a college campus in Utah.
It sickened me to read comments of hate, some of elation for the death of a young man who was the father of two small children and a now widowed young wife.
Others talked of more violence on both sides of the political spectrum. Others talked of the banning of weapons to keep this from happening.
I started thinking about it and decided to share the view from my veranda on this day of mourning for so many lives lost.
A gun killed Charlie Kirk.
A gun injured two students at Evergreen High School in Colorado.
A knife stabbed Iryna Zarutska on a Charlotte light rail train.
A knife killed eight people and injured 17 on Wuxi campus in China.
A rock killed Alexa Bartell in Golden, Colorado.
A truck drove onto Bourbon Street in New Orleans killing 14 and injuring others.
A truck drove into a crowd in Nice, France, on Bastille Day killing 86 and injuring hundreds.
A bomb blew up the federal building in Oklahoma City killing 168 people and injuring hundreds.
A bomb killed three and injured 280 at the Boston Marathon.
Twenty-four years ago today, airplanes flew into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania, killing 2,996 people.
What is missing in the above statements? We are ignoring the truth. The human element that was responsible for ALL of these tragedies.
People shot the guns.
People wielded the knives.
People threw the rock.
People drove the vehicles.
People made the bombs and caused them to go off.
People flew the planes into the towers, the Pentagon, and the field in Pennsylvania.
Banning every THING that served as the weapon will not stop the violence. Guns, knives, rocks, vehicles, bombs, airplanes did not do these terrible acts. People made the decision to kill and injure others.
Mental illness certainly needs to be addressed, but we must understand and face the REALITY that evil hearts exist and have since biblical times.
I don’t know the solution but I believe we can no longer hide our heads in the sand and pretend banning a thing will keep bad things from happening. Evil people will find a way to break the law, ignore the ban, and take innocent lives.
I don’t believe violent rhetoric from ALL sides is the answer.
I pray we can figure out a way to live together in our differing beliefs before it’s too late.
The evening I visited the 9/11 Memorial in February of 2019, light rain started falling as I exited the building. I walked around the dedication to those lost on that horrific day nearly 23 years ago. Decisions made by those trapped were even more impactful when I saw the vastness of the area and could see for myself the heights of the buildings based on One World Trade Center next door to the memorial.
When you’re young and learning about history in school, you tend to read the few paragraphs in your schoolbook and move on without much feeling. I’m sure I was that way when I learned about the Civil War, WWI, and WWII.
Being married to a Vietnam Veteran for 25 years opened my eyes to the true impact on someone who lived it.
The same can be said for those in NYC, Washington DC, and Pennsylvania, who were there and saw things unfold before their eyes. I only saw it on the screen and know the impact it had on me.
Today, I was picking herbs from my garden. I walked into the door when my husband called me into the living room to tell me former President Donald Trump had just been shot at a rally. He had read it on his phone and was turning the news on the television.
Much like I learned about 9/11, I watched the story unfold before my eyes on the screen. I heard the popping sound coming through the TV speakers, as the former President grabbed at his right ear and dropped below the podium. The Secret Service arrived swiftly, and I felt such relief when Mr. Trump could stand, wave at the crowd, and walk away.
In those quick seconds of watching this happen, I suddenly thought back to the 1960’s when three leaders were assassinated a few years apart. With tears in my eyes, I found myself asking what was happening?
While the newscast was on, I checked social media to see if I could learn more news. Some of it was kind and some of it was ugly.
One comment on the social media channel X caught my eye. It was from someone who is running for president, as an opponent to both the current President and the former President. Robert Kennedy, Jr. was 10 when his uncle, President John F. Kennedy, was assassinated. Only a few years later, he was with his father, Senator Robert Kennedy, when he was assassinated.
Robert Kennedy, Jr.’s words, “Now is the time for every American who loves our country to step back from the division, renounce all violence, and unite in prayer for President Trump and his family.”
Also on X, the 4th most popular thing trending right after the assassination attempt was “Civil War.” This is NOT something we should want to ever see trending in the United States of America. I took a screen shot of it, as it was hard for me to believe what I was reading.
Post on X after the assassination attempt.
An American citizen lost their life for attending a political rally and two others were injured, aside from the former President. Some family will have to face the news that they have lost a loved one. I pray the two others who were injured survive. They all attended something many of us have attended ourselves in our lives. This could have happened to any of us.
I ask you to harken back to a time when U.S. citizens worked together for the good of the country and not based on party lines. Can you even remember that time?
For me, it was September 12, 2001. That was 23 years ago, almost a quarter of a century. How sad that I had to go back more than two decades. Our country came together as one nation that day and it lasted for a little while. We were not Democrat against Republican or Us vs. Them, we WERE Americans.
On this 248th year of our nation, I pray we will come together again to say this has to stop on all sides. I also pray we never forget how truly blessed we are to live in this great country. Have we forgotten? I pray that is not the case.
From an early age, I remember going to visit my grandparents and watching my grandma make incredible food for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even snacks with simple ingredients and very little pomp and circumstance.
That’s probably why I have grown to love watching cooking shows, particularly shows like The Great British Bake-Off and The Big Family Cooking Showdown, both BBC series. I think my grandmother would have enjoyed them, too, as I learn so much about other cultures and what they grew up eating and what they consider to be their comfort foods.
I’m Not a Slouch in the Kitchen
I’m not bragging about my cooking prowess but I do believe it’s important for you to know that I’m not bad in the kitchen. I can cook great southern savory staples like buttermilk biscuits and gravy, chicken and dumplings, collard greens and bacon, pinto beans and cornbread, and the list goes on. It’s not my first rodeo.
I can make rustic breads, white breads, pizza dough, and even focaccia from scratch.
My homemade focaccia with decorative herbs, tomatoes, peppers, and olives.
When it comes to desserts, I’m pretty good, too. I’m not intimated by recipes. I read through them, gather my ingredients, and follow the recipe to the letter.
Blackberry Cobbler with a lattice crustFruit Tart with homemade vanilla curd.Christmas Pavlova with custard and fruit
Where Did It All Go Wrong?
I took a week off from work and have been cleaning house, photographing birds in my backyard, and watching the aforementioned BBC cooking shows while sweeping and mopping the floors and folding laundry.
The Brits love to mix it up when it comes to desserts. I’ve watched Paul Hollywood, Mary Berry (before she and Paul went sideways with each other), and Pruh Leith judge many a contestant under the tent for their sticky toffee puddings, treacle tarts, swiss rolls, battenbergs, and sponges. I’ve seen contestants get emotional when Paul told them they had a soggy bottom (okay, you have to watch the show to understand) or Pruh questioned the snap in their biscuits (cookies to us from the USA).
One of my favorite things to watch the contestants make is a macaron, a sandwich-like cookie filled with buttercream, jelly, or ganache, according to Southern Living magazine. Macarons are nothing like the macaroon that we southerners love to devour. Those lovely holiday desserts are made of coconut and offer a chewy, sweet deliciousness when you bite into them.
And Then This Happened…
I had some time on my hands this morning so I thought to myself, “I think I want to try and make macarons. How hard can it be?”
I found a great little website called Sally’s Baking Addiction, with a “Beginner’s Guide to French Macarons” recipe that was ranked with five stars by Google searchers from around the globe. Sally had it going on.
Nearly 2,000 people loved this recipe from sweet Sally so I knew I’d love it, too.
I read through it to make sure I had all the ingredients. Unfortunately, I was short a few eggs so I drove down to the Dollar Store. Don’t judge me. I live in the country and the grocery store was seven miles away. I checked the date on the eggs and they were good to go.
When I arrived back to the house, I got out as many small bowls as I could find so that I could have all my ingredients out and accessible when I began making this favorite recipe of the people.
I sifted the ingredients, per the recipe. I used a candy thermometer to make sure the heated sugar and water were at the right temperature. I whipped the meringues to medium peaks and then combined all of the ingredients together to make the shell.
I even used a piping bag, something I’m not prone to do, but I went for it. I lined the pan with parchment paper. I piped the circles on the cookie sheets.
This is where I may have made my first mistake.
I never could find in Sally’s recipe exactly how many macarons the recipe made, but I’d already made two dozen and I had a lot of the mixture left. Sally’s picture showed two dozen so I could only assume that’s how many it made. Before you go there, yes, I do know what happens when one assumes.
I decided I wanted to make Texas-sized macarons so I went back over the batches with the extra mixture and added them to the original circles that I had created.
Unlike the macarons I’d seen on the TV show, mine started to spread like that first batch of pancake batter you put into the greased pan. The dogs always get the first one because they never turn out right. Or is that just me?
My resting macarons.
I knew, having watched the cooking shows, that macarons need to dry a bit before you put them in the oven so I left them on the counter to rest for 30 minutes so they had a dry top. Then they were headed to the oven. I looked inside and the top layer of macarons, while very large, didn’t look too bad. The bottom layer started to bubble up like a pancake that needed to be turned. What was happening?
I pulled the pans out of the oven after the required 15-20 minutes cooking time. The flatter macarons looked a bit dark on the bottom but the top pan still seemed a bit pale so I placed them back in the oven for a little more time.
The Final Results
Now I’ve had some great macarons in my life. In fact, I’ve loved them so much at the time that I photographed them for the memory, they were so delicious.
Macarons from a beach-side reception in Galveston. Macarons from Rose City Sweets in Tyler.
As you can see below, my macarons look slightly different from the professional versions. While you can’t really tell from the photo, mine are not quite round, in spite of my impeccable piping skills. Most macarons measure around 1.5 to 2 inches in diameter. Mine, on the other hand, came in at a whopping 3-3.5 inches, almost big enough to hold a hamburger patty, if one chose to go the sweet and savory route.
The toothpick holder represents a normal sized macaron. In case I didn’t make it clear how large they were.
Once the macaron shells were cooled, you were to add butter cream icing, which I also made from dear Sally’s recipe. For some reason, it came out more like pancake batter than icing. Not to worry, I placed it in the fridge to “harden” a bit.
Aerial view of my macaron shells.
As you can see, the refrigerator did wonders for the butter cream icing.
The flatter macaron with butter cream spillage.
They say the key to a great macaron is that it should be delicate, almost like a floating cloud when you pop it into your mouth. The outside should have a light crunch with a chewy interior. Few things in my life have been described as delicate, whether it came to describing me or my cooking. I would probably use the word sturdy. I think that is much more fitting.
It kind of has a shell on it.
While I don’t post on this blog often, you might remember my first “Sticking with your Strengths” post when I discussed my inability to make a bow with a bow-maker or decorate a gingerbread house using a pre-made gingerbread kit.
Apparently, I can now add macarons to the things I am challenged by and should not attempt further. It’s important, my friends, to know your strengths, AND to be okay with the fact that you won’t succeed at everything, no matter how hard you try or read the instructions.
And to Sally, please know that my failed attempt at your beginner French macaron recipe is no reflection on you or the other nearly 2,000 people who thought it was the bee’s knees. It truly wasn’t you. It was me.
A little over seven years ago, I lost a dear friend to illness. She was 57 years old when she passed away, a year younger than I am today. Not long after that, my husband and I took a year off to RV and see the southwest and we did it with Susan “Q” in mind.
Since that time, I encourage others to “live your dash.” That’s the time between the day you were born and the day you die. Life is an incredible gift and we only get one shot at it.
The sticker my husband had made to put on our RV when we traveled in memory of our friend, Susan Q.
I was thinking about this yesterday after hearing a song by fellow Texan Willie Nelson and the late Loretta Lynn called “Lay Me Down.” I’m sharing the link, as the message for me was so good.
“I’ll be at peace when they lay me down.”
Live your dash. Do that thing you’ve always wanted to do. Take trips to places you’ve always wanted to go.
In the words of Mark Twain, “Sing like no one’s listening, love like you’ve never been hurt, dance like nobody’s watching, and live like it’s heaven on earth.”
We spend a significant amount of time every week working. In my humble opionion, we should ensure we’re doing work that matters to us, so that we may fill our souls and not just our bank accounts. Live your dash!
I have always loved the Robert Frost poem The Road Not Taken since I first read it more than 40 years ago. As a teenager and young adult, I couldn’t appreciate exactly what it meant, I only knew that I liked it. As I have experienced more and more life, the meaning for me is clearer. Is it the meaning Frost intended? Most likely, it isn’t, but it’s certainly what I interpret it to mean for me. It’s not that simple to explain without a little context.
A Short History
Having lived in 22 cities and towns in my life, 20 of those in Texas, I have met a number of interesting people. Most came in for only a few months or years, while others have been around a majority of my life. In the words of For Good from the musical Wicked, “Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better, but because I knew you, I have been changed for good.” Whether good or bad experiences, these individuals all contributed to the person I am today.
Faith
While I grew up southern baptist, I haven’t been affiliated with a church for decades. However, I’ve continued with my faith in God. For me, I’ve found more commitment in that faith through music, reading, and prayer at home or while surrounded by nature. For those of you who prefer a service in a church building, I’m glad it works for you. It’s not my thing for many reasons, but those reasons are not enough to keep me from continuing to have faith.
My Current Reality
Over the past year, I have experienced challenges that were foreign to me. I didn’t recognize until this week that I was allowing those challenges, and those who have played a role in them, to murder my joy. I had become depressed and had little interest in doing anything besides watch television. Even then, I wasn’t really absorbing what I was watching. I wasn’t present. I was only there.
A Look at the Road
Yesterday, the Robert Frost poem came to mind and because this is not only about my personal views, it is also about my literal views, I’m sharing a photo that sums up how I’ve been feeling.
A photo I took while camping a few years ago at Guadalupe River State Park near Boerne, Texas.
While the picture is not of an actual road in Texas, it represents how traveling through some of the challenges along life’s journey may feel. We are delusional to think it will always be smooth and easy. That’s not really how it works. Certainly, some have it better than others, but I believe that is due to their faith – faith in a higher power and faith in themselves. I was losing that, especially when it came to faith in me, because I was second guessing myself because of what others said about me. Looking back on it now, I seemed to revert back to my awkward teenage years when people’s words hurt and I didn’t have the maturity to understand from where their hurtful comments came. It’s not a good feeling and I don’t recommend it.
Footprints in the Sand
No one could help me bring that back, except me, with help from God.
My footprint in the sand.
Another poem that I love was written by Mary Stevenson and is called Footprints in the Sand. It resonated with me this morning.
Photo of the Footprints in the Sand park in Carthage, Texas.
The number of times my footprints have disappeared and been replaced with only one set is too many to count. God has been with me during my rockiest of moments and I believe God will continue to walk by my side. I also believe I will feel the occasional nudge directing me to get back on the road and not take an unnecessary detour along the way. After all, we can all be squirrels, distracted by the newest, shiniest object along our paths.
Where Do I Go from Here?
I sit in the quiet of a space I’ve grown to love, listening to the birds chirp, the rooster crow, the dogs bark, and the wall clock tick. I take a few breaths and enjoy the solitude of now.
I remember a quote from Admiral James Stockdale, known as the Stockdale Paradox, “You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose—with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.”
Am I ready to face reality? I think so. Should I be fully confident? Maybe. I do recognize that the road not taken that I’ve chosen for my life is filled with all sorts of detours and distractions. How I choose to face those is up to me.
As I contemplate, I recognize the promise of a new day, a new hope, and a new adventure. That keeps me going for the time being. Here’s to finding the joy again and being the best I can be in the time I have been blessed to have on this earth. Onward and upward!
Views from My Veranda 