This is the bell tower at the chapel in Arès, the place where God spoke directly to a man in 1974 and 1977. Its clean simple angles are evocative of the message given—be good, change this world, the message ringing out by means of an iron voice. I see many things from a different angle now. We approach the Creator from many different angles; He sees them all.
“He never forsakes a sinner in his penitence ; all the sinners he fortifies during their ascent,
those who pray to Him in silence,
those who pray to Him shaking bells and candles,
those who pray to Him seven times a day,
those who do not pray to Him but who know Him,
those who count the sunrises until His Day comes
and those who count the moons,
those who burn incense to Him and shout toward Him,
those whom the incense and shouts annoy,
those who see Him white and those who see Him black,
and the deniers of all of those,
the countless multitude whose names a flood of ink would not suffice to list, whose names the Father knows.” The Revelation of Arès 25/6
I am sorry this image is small, but I cropped it severely so as to emphasize the angles.
For more entries on the theme of angles, go to Picture Perfect.
I was tempted to make this recipe :
You’ll need ½ lb. of butter, a cup of sugar, 4 large eggs, a cup of dried fruit, 1 tsp. baking soda, one tsp. salt, lemon juice, some nuts and a bottle of whisky.
1. Taste whisky to check for quality. Take a large bowl, check whisky again to ensure it really is of the highest quality, pour one level cupful and drink, repeat. Turn on electric mixer and beat in butter. Add one teaspool of sugar and beat again. Make sure whisky is still OK, cry another tup. Break 2 legs and add to the bowl and chuck in the dried fruit. Fix on the turner. If the fruit gets stuck in the beaters, pry loose with a scewdriver. Sample whisky again to check for tonsisticity.
Next sift 2 cups of salt or something, who cares ? Check whisky. Sift lemon juice and strain your nuts, add 1 babblespoon of brown sugar or whatever colour you can find. Wix mell, grease oven. Taste whisky and turn cake from pan to 350 gredees. Don’t forget to beat off turner. Throw bowl out the window, sample whisky again and go to bed.
However, I made banana bread bread instead, restricting myself to only two shots of whisky.
Here is the recipe, from « The Blue Ribbon Cookbook » :
1 cup light brown sugar
½ cup butter
1 ½ cups mashed bananas
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 cups sifted flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup chopped nuts
Cream suagr with butter. Add eggs, one at a time, beating hard after each addition. Stir in bananas and lemon juice. Sift together flour, baking powder and salt ; add and mix quickly. Stir in nuts. Pour into greased 9x5x3-inch loaf pan. Bake for 1 hour at 350° F.
I did this in a machine, putting the ingredients in the order given, but not sifting or mashing or chopping beforehand.
I didn’t need to keep testing the whisky because my husband buys me a very nice quality. My taste for whisky can probably be traced to films I saw – The Stepford Wives, and another one with Katherine Ross, I forget the name of it, but she was in the Himalayas and drank some guy under the table. I saw these in my early 20’s and didn’t know anything much about alcoholism or even that one could die from ingesting too much at once. There is a person nearby who was in the hospital in an éthylique (alcoholic) coma. He doesn’t have much brain capacity left. Oh, dear, I thought this was going to be a fun post… How about the maxim « all good things in moderation » ?
Nerves and emotions are in high gear due to an upcoming trip to the States for Thanksgiving, by myself, since my husband will be working. I warned him, it may be like this for the coming week.
I have my plane tickets, train tickets, and hotel reservation. Strikes are being planned by the train company, maybe the subway, the electric-gas company, students, judges, but I hope they will do their thing (if they must) around my dates and not during.
I will have a 30 hour day – not a good kind for getting up at 4 in the morning, hence I will go to Paris the day before and stay over near the airport. Coming back it is an 18 hour day – the night gets chopped off – no sleep. No, make that a 15 hour day, I forgot I will be returning from points further west. My main worry is I may fall asleep on the train and not get off at my station.
So to try to get rid of some of the stress, I got on the Nordic Track machine that hasn’t been used in a long time. I remember the first time I used it. After a few minutes I said – Eeeeewwwww, now I’m all sweaty. Mental double check: Duh, isn’t that the point?
After around 10 minutes, I started feeling better. At 12 minutes I checked the calories burned – 64, not even a slice of bread.
I decided to go for at least 1 on the distance. Does this thing measure km or miles? I forget.
How about if I go for 20 minutes? That should be good.
That gave 1.6 on the distance, so if it measures km, then I did a mile. A twenty minute mile. I usually walk faster than that. 126.5 calories burned. What can I eat for that? How many dishes of ice cream? How many doughnuts?
I feel better for this mindless exercise, writing this blog entry in my head, even though there are plenty of tasks that could have been advanced during this time, such as getting some lunch ready. What do I hear? Clinking, clanging sounds in the kitchen? Yippee! My husband is fixing lunch.
Later in the day, I used up my doughnut quota on a pastry that was like a croissant, filled with chocolate pudding-type cream and topped with sliced almonds.