Category Archives: Essays

Greek Salad

I’m back in the kitchen again! With the temperatures heating up and veggies readily available, it’s salad time! I found this recipe on Pinterest and modified it a bit. The result was super yummy!!! With plenty of leftovers I’m sure it will be even better tomorrow after cooling for a day or two in the ‘frig. The star of this recipe is the dressing. Super easy and zesty!

The Ingredients (my version)

The Veggies:

3 peppers (yellow, red, and green)
1 red onion
2 slicing cucumbers

Chop the above veggies in 1/4 inch pieces

2 cups grape tomatoes halved
1 can garbanzo beans (chick peas) drained
1 cup kalamata olives, pitted and halved

Toss all of the above in a large bowl.

The Dressing:

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
4 TBS red wine vinegar
1 cup curly leaf parsley, finely chopped
2 tsp pepper
2 tsp dried oregano flakes

Give the dressing a whisk and add to the veggies.

Last Ingredient:

8 oz block of feta cheese chopped into 1/4 inch cubes.

Add the feta to the salad and give it a quick toss.

Enjoy!


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 2 June 2019

Today’s ReVerse is so beautiful! It truly captures moments of sublime presence from this past week. I must be getting better at savoring the moments, for having noticed all this!

The world is a troubled, complicated place, but for the constancy of nature. From dawn’s first sparkle and the happy trill of birdsong, to dusk’s gentle fading into night, there are moments of beautiful constancy, reminding us that this, all this, the stuff of life, is worth cherishing, fighting for from our first breath to our last. Some among us, true patriots, gave all for the rights and freedom of the many. We remembered them this week here in the US even while reeling from the horror of yet another mass shooting (gentle blessings to the families of the 14 souls lost in Virginia Beach…), a fresh crop of lies from our president and his ilk, fresh revelations of inhumane treatment of families at our border, bodies crammed in too tight quarters, treated as criminals rather that the desperate refugees that they are, the growing assault on women’s rights, and the rumblings of the “I” word, impeachment…finally. These sad realities did not escape me, but each day there was this too: flowers in bloom, birds nesting with glorious gaping beaks to fill, sunrises and sunsets. I am grateful for each moment that begged my attention to remind me that the greatest gift in this life is life itself. And that all life really requires of me is to be. That is enough, more than enough.

Have a wonderful day being you. And if you forget who that is, take a moment to breathe, noticing the life that hums around you. It will remind you of everything you need to know.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 2 June 2019

she clings to petals, pod swollen with seed
remember freedom is worth fighting for
so someone could dream of flowers
look at this beauty
the earth reminds me whispering… “just be”
in solitary reverie she blooms
blossoms…perfection in miniature
words fill the quiet space betwixt between

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 26 May 2019

I am intrigued by the idea that this life is but one incarnation of many. My catholic upbringing didn’t hint at this. Quite the opposite. My childhood was riddled with the fear of eternal purgatory where my soul would spend eons working off the debt of a lifetime of sin. And then there was that familiar prick of guilt that boiled under my skin for each white lie I told, for each unkindness, for each failed relationship; even when I was good, for not being good enough. Each transgression was entirely my fault, of course, always my fault. I have spent decades apologizing for every breath I take. The idea that I might have lived before, and may again, softens the blow of a bumbled existence.

There is also another concept to consider. When this life ends and I breath my last, that will be it. The end, fade to black, but for the passage of my dna and fading memories in the minds of those left behind.

And of course there is one more story going around. Talk of mansions and streets of gold, virgins, banquets. Of happy reunions with loved ones passed, with beloved pets even, as the newly departed are escorted by angels to a perfect place, better, far better than this. If I had to tell it, certainly I’d embellish it even more…as some have…no sadness, no sickness or hardship, eternal bliss, but, and this is where the tellers of this story and I part ways: there is a cost. To enter this club heaven, there is a price…a secret pledge, if you will. It’s like an incantation. “Repeat after me,” they say, “and all is forgiven, past, present, and future”. It’s tempting. Say a few words like you mean it and you’re home free. I even tried it once, maybe twice, just to be sure, just in case I didn’t mean it enough the first time. But I just couldn’t reconcile the doctrines of this elite club and the rules they played by here on earth. The idea that saying a few hallowed words somehow gives one a pass and the license to make life a living hell for anyone who’s not a member. That’s part of the plan, you see, convince the lost they’re hopeless, make them say uncle, or god or whatever…”prosperity, eternal bliss can be yours…just repeat after me.” You get credit for every soul you convince. Like I said, tempting.

We like these stories that we’ve made up over time to make sense of life, and death. Some make more sense than others. But no one really knows. I certainly don’t have a clue. But I must say the older I get the less it matters. Really. I am okay with any of them or none of them. I certainly don’t need a mansion, too much upkeep, and it’s the neighbors…I have found it hard to get along them on earth, or even like them, for that matter. What if I could get a do-over? Or even if this is it. Fade to nothingness. I’m okay with all or nothing. Dust to dust. Dust to dust. I don’t mean to sound morbid. Blame it on today’s reverse. The truth is I’m inclined these day to savor moments. A moment is a long time if you pay attention. It is more than enough. At least for me it is. Peace to you on your journey to wherever. There are roses to smell and to admire. And look! There goes a butterfly!


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 26 May 2019

stars reveal our capacity for hope
but for brief flickers of remembering
past memories
I’m alone
apple of sodom, bane of innocents
ambassadors of peace with prickly tongues
seems out of place
a softer me
a penny
crushed by a thousand
longing for a life deeply rooted
it’s almost heaven…almost

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 May 2019

I’m ranting today…if you’d rather not read it, jump below to this week’s reVerse. Peace!

You say impeachment like it’s a bad thing. Oh I jest…not! This past week was rough for anyone who is paying attention, and I admit, I pay far too much attention to what’s happening in the world. I can’t help it. I am a child of the radical 50’s-60’s-70’s. Being an activist and a participant is burned into my soul…like the bras I burned back in the day. But I digress.

It is no longer a mystery what the grand old party (aka, Trump’s party, formerly known as the Republican party) thinks of most of us. To be clear I’m speaking about the GOP, as in anyone who is not white, male, straight, rich, born in the US of A, unless of course your parents were here illegally when you were born, or you happened to be a true native who was here before the white scourge. They despise us.

They despise the children they continue to rip from parents at our borders with no plan to reunite them, they despise sick children whose parents have the audacity to expect healthcare for pre-existing conditions so that their children might have the chance to live, they despise the children that they force to be born, gloating, “you’re on your own now”, once they’re here, they despise school children who dare to come between them and their right to hoard arsenals of their beloved guns. It’s no secret that they also despise people of color, people of faith who are not bible-thumping, evangelical, so-called christian conservatives; they despise the outcast, the refugee and the prisoner, the sick and the needy. Don’t be fooled by their smug “family value”, pro-life drivel. They don’t care about any of that or us. They only care about the votes their lies get them from fools who believe them, thus keeping them in power.

Oh, and this week, they made it clear that they hate women. Unless of course they want to get their rocks off, engage in a little consensual rape (because no means maybe) or have a little fun, a little innocent assault, because boys will be boys, you know. Keep the viagra cheap and flowing like skittles, but not birth control for women. No make that expensive, inaccessible and for god’s sake don’t let insurance cover it, or pregnancy for that matter and make the women pay more for that insurance if they want to have a family…it’s only fair. Men don’t get pregnant. Appoint misogynist predators to the bench, elect them to high office, to the presidency even. And when nasty, uppity women dare to act like individuals, dare to expect the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, make life a living hell for them. Remind them of their place. Remind them that as long as men are in power, they own them. Because women, according to them, are only objects of lust, hysterical, and weak. They need to be managed and punished severely when they get out of line.

It is head spinning to see how swiftly patriarchy is making its last stand. It’s ugly. It’s terrifying. I am outraged that more of us are not outraged. But like climate change (oh they hate the planet too, which is obvious in the way they rape earth’s resources for gain), we will reach a point of no return if we don’t stand up to this evil and stop them. Complicity and ignorance are not options. Impeachment you say? That is the very least that we should do. Our democracy, all that we hold dear, hangs in the balance. Yes, it’s that bad. I took a break from the madness yesterday. We should all do that, to recharge before getting back to it. But get back to it we must. If not for us, then for our children and our children’s children.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 May 2019

petals bursting in brief, fragrant splendor
but for the leaves whispering in the breeze
it was perfect
deny their humanity at the gates
for tender hearts, anger oft’ turns inward
fated by the whim of a breeze
I won’t tell you why
patriarchy
is a lie
yep…it’s that kind of day
when Love rains like
like angel kisses on my face

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 May 2019

And just like that, she was gone. This week brought news of the passing of an old friend. We had a peculiar relationship, connecting decades ago through poetry on an online message group. We were internet friends, but so much more. We met in the flesh for a brief brilliant moment. It was the summer solstice, I recall, a magical time when we “wise women” (the name of our writing group) decided we needed to connect beyond our computer screens. That weekend we discovered the power of soul connection under the light of a full moon.

When the message board platform ended, we “sisters” disbursed like whirligigs on the wind. That is, until the next cyber platform, Facebook, opened the door and many of us found each other again. How could we not. It was the fates that brought us together time and again after all, and it is the fates who will ultimately decide when this incarnation for each of us will end.

I shall miss my faraway friend’s light and words. But the truth is, she is still here in my heart, her words swirling in my head. Memories, anecdotes, words of wisdom, sound advice. I am forever changed for having known her. And I do believe we will meet again. I’m not sure how or when. I just know we will.

Sail on “M”. It’s been real.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 May 2019

that I could lose myself so completely
to entertain the ramblings of a fool
people go crazy over a little rain
not a destination, it’s a circle
search for more
inform our steps to guide us through the haze
or at least try
the true value of a life fully lived
muted
to hear her heartbeat one more time

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


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