Sunday, February 21, 2021

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At ten I lived for Santa Clause,
At twenty life lived without a pause,
Thirty led me to a cause,
It was Forty that showed me all my flaws,
Its fifties turn to teach lifes laws,
But now I sleep,,,,,,,,, tomorrow draws.

R. Sweat

Good morning Ya'll! !!I know that what I am posting won't change the price of gas or give you back any of that time you wasted on the beach when you were younger, but I thought I would employ a little kaos theory this fine November morning, just to see where the butterfly might leads us.I woke up this morning to a PERFECT and I mean PERFECT Carolina Fall day. Sipping on what might be the worlds best cup of coffee I started thinking about how nondescript actions and words bring consequences for good or bad to people we might never meet. So today I am sending out nothing but good news, best wishes and extending unrequited acts of kindness to everyone I interact with today in hopes that old Mr. Kaos and his nondescript butterfly's of infinate possibilities will flap their wings hard enough that the cause and effect on the reality that they generate will work its way into releaving a little pain today in somebody's world.Breath in, Breath out, Move onR . Sweat

Up all night, Deep in thought about life, the world and our part in it when suddenly I was hit by an epiphany.After watching my wife let our 2 cats in and out of our house for the 14th time in 6 hours it hit me.Cats all over the World are engaged in a secret game of "Counting Coup", where they earn points by how many times they can get a Human to open a door for them.We are being reprogrammed so that on the day of the Great Feline Uprising we will aide our own demise as a species by simultaneously opening EVERY door in the world, ON COMMAND and without thinking,help facilitate the largest "Trojan Horse" ever devised..Got to Go, I hear my master at the door.R.Sweat

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Good morning Ya'll! !!
I know that what I am posting won't change the price of gas or give you back any of that time you wasted on the beach when you were younger, but I thought I would employ a little kaos theory this fine November  morning, just to see where the butterfly might leads us.
I woke up this morning to a PERFECT and I mean PERFECT Carolina Fall day. Sipping  on what might be the worlds best cup of coffee I started thinking about how nondescript actions and words bring consequences for good or bad to people we might never meet. So today I am sending out nothing but good news, best wishes and extending unrequited acts of kindness to everyone I interact with  today in hopes that old Mr. Kaos and his nondescript  butterfly's of infinate possibilities will flap their wings hard enough that the cause and effect on the  reality that they generate will work its way into releaving a little pain today in somebody's world.
Breath in, Breath out, Move on
R . Sweat

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Bread pudding

Dorothy Hoff’s (English Purcell's grandmother) Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sugar Sauce
Recipe for Bread Pudding:
¾ to 1 loaf of white bread
½ cup raisins
1 tsp vanilla
1 beaten egg ½ tsp nutmeg
1 tsp cinnamon
½ to ¾ cup sugar
½ stick butter
1 can evaporated milk
12 x 12 or 9 x 13 inch GREASED pan

Break up white bread into small pieces and place in colander. Run water over bread in colander until soft. Squeeze out as much excess water as possible.
In large bowl mix bread, raisins, vanilla, egg, nutmeg, cinnamon, and sugar together with hands.
Place mixture in baking pan, and pour evaporated milk over the top until it completely covers the pudding.
Place pats of butter on top of mixture, sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar, and bake at 325 to 350 degrees for 45 minutes.
Serve warm, sliced into squares, with whiskey sugar sauce (recipe below).
Recipe for Whiskey Sugar Sauce
1 stick of melted butter
1 ½ to 2 cups of sugar
raw egg (beaten separately)
½ jigger of whiskey/bourbon
Mix above ingredients together. Spoon onto individual squares of bread pudding. Keep refrigerated.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Last Call for Summer

Last Look Back

     He thought for a moment. How long have I been here? As the last rays of the failing Carolina sun warmed the back of his neck and cast long shadows that streaked across the sand dunes in a race toward the darkening waters of the Atlantic,it seemed that all time had stopped
     He looked on as two children played in a tidal pool. Their bleached white hair once short in the spring now caressed shoulders tanned nut brown by the long days of a a seemingly endless beach vacation. From afar a mothers voice says its time to go. But its only her promise of a return one day that finally tears them away from their kingdom of sandcastles and seashells.They were now children of the beach for evermore and they left  behind not only their fortress in the sand, but also a small piece of themselves and their childhood for mother nature to reclaim on the next high tide. Blending their souls with all those who have come before into the  tide line of life that stretched from here to eternity.
     He missed the beach umbrellas that had once lined the shore like so many colorful Christmas ornaments stretching as far as the eye could see. Havens for families that had used them to escape the relentless rays of sun, life itself seemed to began and end in their embrace Now cleaned and packed away they left no trace of the world as it had been. Only a landscape of ghosts and memories drifted in the September air,as the last hallow sounds of laughter faded on the cooling breeze, leaving only the  rhythmic tide to fill the void.
      He felt the presence of his father and grandfather move beside him and as they all stood looking out toward the horizon,the days last light had left the world of Summer behind in blends of orange and scarlet and colors not yet named by man. Soon a crescent moon would ascend to crown the Lowcountry sky. A God sent tierra brought down by angels and left as a gift for all  of us blessed to call this land our own. It was then he knew. How long had he been there,,,,,forever.
   
    From the North  the wind began to whisper. making the salty sand stir, gently at first it spoke the words that no one wants to hear,,,,,Summer is over.
R.Sweat