I find myself at a crossroads. No, nothing like Robert Johnson meeting the Devil at the Crossroads to sell his soul for a career as a Blue’s phenom.
Mine, while important to me, is nothing as drastic as the succumbing of Robert Johnson. My crossroads starts with a season. One that begins after Summer and ushers in Winter. Of course, I’m speaking of Fall. When asked to reveal their favorite season, many Americans, including me, claim Fall as number one.
And, why not? The overbearing heat and humidity of Summer subsides, and the colors God paints the various leaves is unequaled.
So, why do I feel I am at a crossroads, being I find myself in the middle of my favorite time of year, you ask?
To be perfectly honest, it has to do with, and nothing else, but hot peppers.
Then, you ask, why my conundrum over two things that share nothing in common except the vast difference between the two?
Well, I’ll tell you. Autumn is the most comfortable and beautiful time of year, however; once Fall enters the picture, my hot pepper harvest is soon coming to an end. And, if you know me, I eat several cayenne peppers each day with various meals. I also enjoy a couple tablespoons of hot sauce as an appetizer for breakfast and dinner.
Oh well, I’ll just have to substitute store-bought Jalapeno and Serrano peppers until next year’s crop of capsaicin-laden fruit are ready to pick.
As usual, have a great week but, this time, add a little heat in the form of an edible, botanical firecracker and may God bless you richly.
I often start my posts with the pretense of being an author. It allows me to segue to most any topic and keep the knowledge that I am a writer at the forefront of my blog since it is such a large part of my life.
Writing about science fiction, fantasy, and action/adventure characters provides a rich perspective from which to draw fodder in broadening the scope of certain blog posts.
For instance, in all of my novels the characters eat, but what they dine upon is up to me. Meaning, they can munch on anything from Cabot to mucus rat.
In this particular post, I’m going to scale it back to a meal familiar to us all–namely pizza. First, I must question the name. How do we get something that is spelled . . . P-i-z-z-a; however in order to spell it phonetically, this word’s spelling should be more like Peetza? Nuff said.
What are your favorite ingredients to top this delicious, round of yeast-filled dough? Of course, you will have to answer this for yourself.
My favorite toppings usually coincide with the restaurant’s version of a combo. I am always a minority when it comes to additional ingredients, unless I’m getting a pizza to myself, since I love anchovies and hot peppers. I will order these salty little fish fillets and capsaicin filled jalapeno rings on the side and add them to my slices. I might add that my favorite pizza comes from a mom-and-pop pizza shop, normally owned by Italians and never from one of the conglomerates so prevalent in our society today.
I might add, on one of my pizza gathering excursions I ordered a small jalapeno and anchovy pizza for one. You can bet I had that little slice of heaven to myself.
Lastly, I will mention one delicious type of pizza and that being the Chicago style. I’ve been to the Windy City several times and, believe me, these pizzas are something to behold, or should I say, something to ingest. If you ever get a chance to dine on one of these Behemoth’s, then do so, you’ll be glad you did.
Have the best week you’ve ever had since the last best week you had, and may God bless!
Remember the daze we were hooked on fonix? You gotta admit that thoze were the best of timz becuz speling becaam so simplistic. No mor looking throo the dicshunary to lern the proper wa to spel in e givin werd.
Fonix maaks evryda liif e-z-er. Street siins becum a simple thing to reed. Labels on the bak of pakagez, a breez to understand and instrukshuns to most n-e-thing efortles to falow.
Wot I am having truble rapping my head arond is y we dident develep the wondurful proces we cal fonix erlier? It wood hav maad skool work much les of a chore, and liif n general a mor plesent xpereens, and y dident we adopt this program as i-wor regular corikqulum? . . . Sumtims we don’t no wen we hav it maad.
When writing, I’m in control of every situation. If I want someone to die, it is in my hands and my hands alone. If I want someone to live, it is in my hands and my hands alone. I have the final say in the smallest of instances.
When I leave the realm of the particular novel on which I’m working, all bets are off. It’s then I find how little control I have in the world around me.
The small amount of equipment, social media, or internet, that I am competent to use, pales to what is available.
Like most people, I have a smartphone, but in my case the vast majority of technology packed into that tiny package is wasted on its not-so-smart owner.
The computer I use most everyday will perform duties I’ll never manage and most likely never be aware of their existence.
I’m also the proud owner of a smart TV that is way and above smarter than me. I’ve even been unable to properly load Alexa. Sometimes she’ll talk to me and sometimes she won’t. I’m glad my wife is not as temperamental. Oh well, ‘Nuff said.