Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Quest!
Pressed hard from all sides
Like the squeeze of a boar constrictor.
Messed up at all sites
Like the trail of an alligator
In a body of water
Stagnant and muddy
From years of pollution and neglect.
The nation sits in depths of regret
As the people hang by their nails
To a sinking vessel.
A leaky vessel taking water
From faults
Man made faults
in the hull of the vessel.
Faults, there from years
of looting
of the public treasury
Years, too many for counting.
Blatant draining of public coffers
Of funds meant to be coffered
For schools, for tools,
For health care and people's welfare.
Funds meant for railroads, highways,
Seaports, airports.
Funds meant for bridges,ridges on farmlands.
Recreation for leisure and jobs,
For stadiums, and freedom
from boredom in youths.
Funds, chewed off and hauled off
To foreign banks
Like chunks of cheese.
Stolen by rats
In the dead of night.
Funds stolen in broad daylight, and
Stashed away as cash, homes and kind.
Hard to find.
Year after year, the runs are made
By waves of rats with cheese
Scurrying back and forth
Totally unrestrained.
Scurrying, by the very eyes
Of the cats there to guard.
Not a catch is ever made on their guard
Despite all the noise,
And grand poise,
Corruption reigns supreme
Eroding all the dreams
of greatness
As the vessel sinks,
Slowly
Taking in water,
Lots of water
Daily
From the faults, numerous faults
On the hull of the vessel.
The people hang on, as in a daze.
New faults are coming, gaping faults
Made by bombs and explosives
jammed in cars, getting past cat posts
Forcing death, untimely death, and injury
On the people.
Deafening sounds, terror,
Ground shaking horror, gruesome.
The people awake from their stupor
And ponder
And then they wonder
at their candor.
Candor, for the first time,
Candor.
All these years they took it
As in a jest,
The blatant abuse.
Having no rest
From east to west,
Took abuse at the behest
Of jesters, jokers and pranksters,
And remained happy, very happy
As in a daze.
Now wide awake
To face the test,
Just in time to do their part,
Not with bombs or bullets, but
With their brains, making inquiries
Sharp inquiries, one after the other
of the cats, the guards of the treasury,
Of their bosses, and the errand boys and girls
Sent by the people to speak for them.
The time is here for the people
To do their part.
Go on a quest.
The time is now.
Quest!
Chinwe Enemchukwu
August 30 2011.
Aburi---SOS
Aburi was on all the lips
across the land.
Hope and excitement were in the air.
Adults talked about the meeting
The children picked up bits and pieces
Of the excited chatter and debate
Over the Aburi meeting in Ghana.
Ghana, a good neighbor, weighing in
to help restore sanity and peace and
provide a safe heaven for a meeting
where no life would be regarded as worthless
and maybe wasted as thousands had been.
Following months, weeks, and days of strife
And severe blood letting, one last chance
To get it right, and put things back together, and
Forget the past and just move on as a nation.
New outlook, new attitudes, no more bloodshed
Was the hope of all.
Aburi, Aburi, hung over the air waves,
those few days of the Aburi peace talks.
The young people echoed the adults.
Aburi, and there would be peace.
Life would go on,
Violence would be gone
Strife all gone
At last.
They came home, the peacemakers
The Aburi accord was out for all takers.
They had done a fine job.
That soothing voice over the airwaves
Giving the report to his people.
It was in the air
Quite nice and fair
From what the adults said.
With this accord in place
None will have to face
Such horror and terror again.
Such awful things had happened
Unlawful, but still in place.
Happened here and there
With no consequences to face
By the culprits,
In mob action.
Aburi was in the air
Really nice and fair
There was jubilation
And lots of congratulations
From the bit I remember.
We were in the streets chanting
"On my honor as an Easterner,
On Aburi we stand"
Throngs of people matching
With arms in the air, chanting.
Had no clue what was happening
But match and chant we did,
School children sweating in the sun
Having lots of fun
Declaring
" On Aburi we stand"
Stumping the ground.
Anything to get out of class
And run around town, raising dust
" On my honor----
On Aburi we stand"
On Aburi we stood for many days
And weeks.
We stood on Aburi around the clock
Singing it every chance we got
By the chapel, students would flock
To take off a stumping to town
Shouting with a frown
" On Aburi we stand"
Then one last flocking to chapel
Parents were arriving
Teachers were crying
Missionary teachers devastated
Things looked complicated.
"Go home
There is war."
Flurry of activities
Students leaving hurriedly
Goodbyes said so hurriedly
Quick waves, uncertainty.
Roads crowded with cars.
End of school, so abruptly.
Who would have known
What was in store.
Who would have known
Friends never seen again
Songs never heard again
Innocence stolen forever
From children.
Lives destroyed.
Hopes and dreams lost forever.
A good life for ever cast away
Never to return.
Even forty years after the fact
Life is far removed from track
For a nation, once so blessed,
Marching forward, full of hope
And promise. Marching boldly
Alongside the rest of the world.
Who would have believed.
Today
Hope is alive
Faith must thrive
As a nation arrives
At a crossroad.
Bursting at the seams
with people it seems,
The time is ripe
To shed the stripes
And do the right thing-
Stand on something
" On no corruption"
"On healthy competition"
With the rest of the world.
Stand on something
" On good health care"
"On quality education"
" On hard work-
Farm work, road work
Homework, schoolwork"
Whatever it takes
to have a job.
Stand on something
to bring the country back to life.
" Honesty and fairness"
Stand on something.
Yes, it is time to stand on something.
Updated,
Even Aburi will do.
Thank God!
Chinwe Enemchukwu
August 19 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Broken
Broken
Totally broken.
Stricken
Thoroughly stricken.
Afflicted
with full affliction.
Defamed
with utter defamation.
Stripped
to bare bones.
A once thriving nation
now just a bad clone
of her true nature.
Had leaders, truculent
malevolent
Rotten to the core.
Leading
Desperate people.
Rivers defiled
Feculent
Forests burned
Pastures destroyed,
Farmlands polluted
Produce hardly esculent
Farmlands swallowed up by gullies
Unsightly gullies
dotting the landscape
and highways.
Gaping holes made by
feculent floods
rushing unrestrained.
Broken
Totally broken.
Stripped
of her past glory.
A nation of children
betrayed
and waylaid
by
Poor schools, no tools,
Bad roads, no roles
No jobs, rough hubs
Sickness.
No health care
Decadence
No conscience.
Pawkiness,
Preying on the naive
across the globe.
Poverty
abject poverty
grips the land.
Yet the oil flows
Yes, the oil flows
As the land dies
one day at a time.
As the mangrove swamps die
And seagulls cease to fly
The fish and crayfish fry
in the cesspools of oil
.
The ever burning flames
of natural gas flaring
Quite a hint of hell
Hot and fiery,
Bright and scary,
from Shell, BP and chums.
The money is flowing
The people are starving
No fish to catch
No farms to scratch
For a living.
The oil left the land
To turn dunes of sand
into rows of mansions grand
where the oil- rich float around
like fat cows in grand robes.
The people die in scores daily
All over the land.
Yet the bloated cows moo
nonchalantly.
Broken
Totally broken
What a token
of a nation.
Chinwe Enemchukwu
© August 8 2011
Totally broken.
Stricken
Thoroughly stricken.
Afflicted
with full affliction.
Defamed
with utter defamation.
Stripped
to bare bones.
A once thriving nation
now just a bad clone
of her true nature.
Had leaders, truculent
malevolent
Rotten to the core.
Leading
Desperate people.
Rivers defiled
Feculent
Forests burned
Pastures destroyed,
Farmlands polluted
Produce hardly esculent
Farmlands swallowed up by gullies
Unsightly gullies
dotting the landscape
and highways.
Gaping holes made by
feculent floods
rushing unrestrained.
Broken
Totally broken.
Stripped
of her past glory.
A nation of children
betrayed
and waylaid
by
Poor schools, no tools,
Bad roads, no roles
No jobs, rough hubs
Sickness.
No health care
Decadence
No conscience.
Pawkiness,
Preying on the naive
across the globe.
Poverty
abject poverty
grips the land.
Yet the oil flows
Yes, the oil flows
As the land dies
one day at a time.
As the mangrove swamps die
And seagulls cease to fly
The fish and crayfish fry
in the cesspools of oil
.
The ever burning flames
of natural gas flaring
Quite a hint of hell
Hot and fiery,
Bright and scary,
from Shell, BP and chums.
The money is flowing
The people are starving
No fish to catch
No farms to scratch
For a living.
The oil left the land
To turn dunes of sand
into rows of mansions grand
where the oil- rich float around
like fat cows in grand robes.
The people die in scores daily
All over the land.
Yet the bloated cows moo
nonchalantly.
Broken
Totally broken
What a token
of a nation.
Chinwe Enemchukwu
© August 8 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Re.cog.ni.zance
Definition of RECOGNIZANCE
1
a : an obligation of record entered into before a court or magistrate requiring the performance of an act (as appearance in court) usually under penalty of a money forfeiture
During high school days in the good old days in Nigeria, students delighted in using big words, both in spoken and written English. Grabbing a dictionary to fish out the meaning of jaw breakers, as some of these words were called, was common practice. During debates, big words thrown out by debaters were carefully noted and researched afterwards and added to the stockpile of big grammar by students who loved using big words. Using big words was the in thing in those days and people took pride in throwing out heavy-sounding words.
The big words were also shared in letters between friends. There were no telephones for calls or texting in those days and young people actually communicated through letter writing. In those days also, letters did not disappear in the mail, even when they came from overseas, usually from pen pals, whose cursive handwriting were a challenge to read. Many years later when my children started learning to write cursive, it dawned on me that people were not born with the ability to write cursive. It is actually a tedious task, carefully learned and mastered. Most schools do not teach children how to write cursive anymore and that in my opinion is a loss.
I remember coming across the word recognizance a few times in those high school days, but I never took the time to look up the meaning and I had a vague idea what the word meant based on its use.
Fast forward to 1994, in a big room packed with parents, students, teachers and school board officials at the county recreation center, who gathered for the county spelling bee contest. Children, champions from their schools, had gathered to contest for the champion who would represent the county at the next level, leading up to state and then the national championship. Elementary and middle school children up to eighth grade were involved in the contest.
It was a heated contest, as the children spelled their best and each time a student was eliminated, the disappointment registered right away on the face of the child, followed by relief, resignation, or continued disappointment, depending on the reaction of supporters in the audience. .
My 9 year old son, a fifth grader at the time, was involved, representing his school at the spelling bee contest. He was the youngest among the group of contestants. His siblings and I helped him prepare for the contest. Being an avid reader, he read books and newspapers all the time and had good spelling skills. We helped him practise the list of words given to him, but there were so many words that it was very hard to go through all the words. He knew he was under no pressure whatsoever to win, all he had to do was to work hard and do his best at the contest. Putting in his best was the expectation.
We decided that his best strategy would be a relaxed state of mind. Being totally relaxed and at home would help him visualise words, think about them and then attempt to spell them by sound. It was also suggested to him to ask for a repetition and the definition of a word if he was not sure of the meaning, and that would also buy him time to reflect on the word and then spell it. We went over the strategy time and again.
Equipped with prayer for a safe drive to the venue for all the competitors, the game plan, and a full stomach, we left for the venue, a twenty minute drive from home. His siblings, after wishing him well, were dropped off at school and daycare and we drove to the center, relaxed. The large room was full and the champions were invited to the seats reserved for them at the front of the room and the grilling started. Words, familiar words, unfamiliar words, long words, short words, simple words, difficult words, were thrown at the children by the announcer and some unlucky children got very hard words and ended up being eliminated in their first try.
Before long, the number of contestants dropped to a handful of spellers and the excitement rose. Each time the boy had a turn, he would throw a quick glance in his mother's direction, make eye contact, and she would nod in agreement, as if to say, " go for it", and he would spell and then throw another quick glance for her to acknowledge his success. He was lucky to get words he knew how to spell. Then it came to a point where only two students were left and it happened to be that the youngest two in the group were left, both fifth graders.
The room was filled with palpable apprehension. The children did not seem as nervous as the grownups. They kept spelling words until one of them slipped and the last, final word was announced, which the possible winner would spell and if correctly spelled, another word would be given, and if that word was spelled correctly, a winner would emerge. The skinny nine-year old stood there as the crowd focused on him. There was total silence, one could hear a pin drop.
He spelled his word correctly and after the applause came the final word, which if spelled correctly would make him the champion. Again there was total silence.
The announcer pronounced the word and there was a soft moan in the room.
RE.COG.NI.ZANCE
The boy stared in front of him, and then a quick glance in his mother's direction. She nodded in agreement, and he politely asked for a definition of the word. He listened carefully as the announcer repeated the word and defined it, adding that a definition may not really help. The boy reflected on the word and then slowly spelled it, just the way it sounded to him. There was total silence when he finished spelling the word. Then came a word from the announcer---
Correct.
There was a few seconds of silence and then applause. The boy looked in his mother's direction and there she was standing up clapping for him. A big smile, as big as the smile on his mother's face, spread across his face.. As he was congratulated by his peers and the adults, he was polite and humble and all that really mattered to him was the fact that his mother was there,and supported and applauded him. He was very happy and upbeat about that. Even when the newspaper published his winning and published the wrong word, he did not care. Even when he was out spelled at the next level, he was not bothered, he had given it his best and that was all that mattered.
In life, winning and winning at all cost, sometimes gets in the way of allowing God to do his will in our lives. Pulling back from it all, surrendering everything to God, everything, knowing fully well that God is in control, both in good times and in bad times, and that he has paid the bail to buy his people freedom, makes a lot of sense.
God is always there to cheer us on. Trusting him and acknowledging his cheering helps when the journey becomes almost impossible.
One can then live life in total freedom and peace and try to spread that love and peace to others, both friendly and unfriendly others, hardly an easy task to carry out, armed with that knowledge.
Knowing fully well that the freedom and peace enjoyed by believers (recognizors) is not earned or deserved, but rather given through the total love of God, helps in navigating through life, until the day of the call to the great beyond, which is as sure as the sun rising every morning.
To God be all glory. Amen.
22It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
23They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23
King James Version (KJV)
1
a : an obligation of record entered into before a court or magistrate requiring the performance of an act (as appearance in court) usually under penalty of a money forfeiture
During high school days in the good old days in Nigeria, students delighted in using big words, both in spoken and written English. Grabbing a dictionary to fish out the meaning of jaw breakers, as some of these words were called, was common practice. During debates, big words thrown out by debaters were carefully noted and researched afterwards and added to the stockpile of big grammar by students who loved using big words. Using big words was the in thing in those days and people took pride in throwing out heavy-sounding words.
The big words were also shared in letters between friends. There were no telephones for calls or texting in those days and young people actually communicated through letter writing. In those days also, letters did not disappear in the mail, even when they came from overseas, usually from pen pals, whose cursive handwriting were a challenge to read. Many years later when my children started learning to write cursive, it dawned on me that people were not born with the ability to write cursive. It is actually a tedious task, carefully learned and mastered. Most schools do not teach children how to write cursive anymore and that in my opinion is a loss.
I remember coming across the word recognizance a few times in those high school days, but I never took the time to look up the meaning and I had a vague idea what the word meant based on its use.
Fast forward to 1994, in a big room packed with parents, students, teachers and school board officials at the county recreation center, who gathered for the county spelling bee contest. Children, champions from their schools, had gathered to contest for the champion who would represent the county at the next level, leading up to state and then the national championship. Elementary and middle school children up to eighth grade were involved in the contest.
It was a heated contest, as the children spelled their best and each time a student was eliminated, the disappointment registered right away on the face of the child, followed by relief, resignation, or continued disappointment, depending on the reaction of supporters in the audience. .
My 9 year old son, a fifth grader at the time, was involved, representing his school at the spelling bee contest. He was the youngest among the group of contestants. His siblings and I helped him prepare for the contest. Being an avid reader, he read books and newspapers all the time and had good spelling skills. We helped him practise the list of words given to him, but there were so many words that it was very hard to go through all the words. He knew he was under no pressure whatsoever to win, all he had to do was to work hard and do his best at the contest. Putting in his best was the expectation.
We decided that his best strategy would be a relaxed state of mind. Being totally relaxed and at home would help him visualise words, think about them and then attempt to spell them by sound. It was also suggested to him to ask for a repetition and the definition of a word if he was not sure of the meaning, and that would also buy him time to reflect on the word and then spell it. We went over the strategy time and again.
Equipped with prayer for a safe drive to the venue for all the competitors, the game plan, and a full stomach, we left for the venue, a twenty minute drive from home. His siblings, after wishing him well, were dropped off at school and daycare and we drove to the center, relaxed. The large room was full and the champions were invited to the seats reserved for them at the front of the room and the grilling started. Words, familiar words, unfamiliar words, long words, short words, simple words, difficult words, were thrown at the children by the announcer and some unlucky children got very hard words and ended up being eliminated in their first try.
Before long, the number of contestants dropped to a handful of spellers and the excitement rose. Each time the boy had a turn, he would throw a quick glance in his mother's direction, make eye contact, and she would nod in agreement, as if to say, " go for it", and he would spell and then throw another quick glance for her to acknowledge his success. He was lucky to get words he knew how to spell. Then it came to a point where only two students were left and it happened to be that the youngest two in the group were left, both fifth graders.
The room was filled with palpable apprehension. The children did not seem as nervous as the grownups. They kept spelling words until one of them slipped and the last, final word was announced, which the possible winner would spell and if correctly spelled, another word would be given, and if that word was spelled correctly, a winner would emerge. The skinny nine-year old stood there as the crowd focused on him. There was total silence, one could hear a pin drop.
He spelled his word correctly and after the applause came the final word, which if spelled correctly would make him the champion. Again there was total silence.
The announcer pronounced the word and there was a soft moan in the room.
RE.COG.NI.ZANCE
The boy stared in front of him, and then a quick glance in his mother's direction. She nodded in agreement, and he politely asked for a definition of the word. He listened carefully as the announcer repeated the word and defined it, adding that a definition may not really help. The boy reflected on the word and then slowly spelled it, just the way it sounded to him. There was total silence when he finished spelling the word. Then came a word from the announcer---
Correct.
There was a few seconds of silence and then applause. The boy looked in his mother's direction and there she was standing up clapping for him. A big smile, as big as the smile on his mother's face, spread across his face.. As he was congratulated by his peers and the adults, he was polite and humble and all that really mattered to him was the fact that his mother was there,and supported and applauded him. He was very happy and upbeat about that. Even when the newspaper published his winning and published the wrong word, he did not care. Even when he was out spelled at the next level, he was not bothered, he had given it his best and that was all that mattered.
In life, winning and winning at all cost, sometimes gets in the way of allowing God to do his will in our lives. Pulling back from it all, surrendering everything to God, everything, knowing fully well that God is in control, both in good times and in bad times, and that he has paid the bail to buy his people freedom, makes a lot of sense.
God is always there to cheer us on. Trusting him and acknowledging his cheering helps when the journey becomes almost impossible.
One can then live life in total freedom and peace and try to spread that love and peace to others, both friendly and unfriendly others, hardly an easy task to carry out, armed with that knowledge.
Knowing fully well that the freedom and peace enjoyed by believers (recognizors) is not earned or deserved, but rather given through the total love of God, helps in navigating through life, until the day of the call to the great beyond, which is as sure as the sun rising every morning.
To God be all glory. Amen.
22It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
23They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23
King James Version (KJV)
Friday, July 15, 2011
Water
Serene,Calming.
Peaceful as in the womb.
Giving life.
Sustaining life.
Restoring life.
Rrefreshing,Soothing.
Cooling
On hot dry days.
Tasteless, yet sweet
as honeycomb.
Reviving life when dehydrated.
Satisfying, when quenching thirst.
Bringing back all life after a drought.
Flowing.
Sparkling, crystal clear
yet can be very deep.
Water.
Beckoning,Nourishing,
Mesmerizing.
But then--
How can such a blessing
Bring on such a tensing
And agony
Unimaginable.
Ravishing and yet
Ravaging
In floods,tsunamis, rainstorms,
Mudslides, ice storms,hailstorms,
thunderstorms.
Storms on the high sea,
Even at fun times at
Recreation.
Water strikes
One way or the other
Leaving devastation
and destruction,
and sorrow in one breath.
Bringing on drowning and loss of life.
Sudden death.
Snatching away loved ones
without prior notice.
In the bat of an eye
Worlds come crashing down.
Lives and dreams cast down
To be lost for ever.
Leaving broken hearts
Totally unprepared
for
The cruel dreams,
Very bad dreams,
Nightmares.
Only there's no waking up
In a panicked sweat.
Already wide eyed with
Stinging rivers flowing down.
Faces, ashen with grief.
More tortured grief
Deep down.
What brings some relief
To the burning, weary eyes
and faces ---
Water.
Chinwe Enemchukwu
July 15 2011
Almighty God, please bring comfort, the way only you can,deep down.
Peaceful as in the womb.
Giving life.
Sustaining life.
Restoring life.
Rrefreshing,Soothing.
Cooling
On hot dry days.
Tasteless, yet sweet
as honeycomb.
Reviving life when dehydrated.
Satisfying, when quenching thirst.
Bringing back all life after a drought.
Flowing.
Sparkling, crystal clear
yet can be very deep.
Water.
Beckoning,Nourishing,
Mesmerizing.
But then--
How can such a blessing
Bring on such a tensing
And agony
Unimaginable.
Ravishing and yet
Ravaging
In floods,tsunamis, rainstorms,
Mudslides, ice storms,hailstorms,
thunderstorms.
Storms on the high sea,
Even at fun times at
Recreation.
Water strikes
One way or the other
Leaving devastation
and destruction,
and sorrow in one breath.
Bringing on drowning and loss of life.
Sudden death.
Snatching away loved ones
without prior notice.
In the bat of an eye
Worlds come crashing down.
Lives and dreams cast down
To be lost for ever.
Leaving broken hearts
Totally unprepared
for
The cruel dreams,
Very bad dreams,
Nightmares.
Only there's no waking up
In a panicked sweat.
Already wide eyed with
Stinging rivers flowing down.
Faces, ashen with grief.
More tortured grief
Deep down.
What brings some relief
To the burning, weary eyes
and faces ---
Water.
Chinwe Enemchukwu
July 15 2011
Almighty God, please bring comfort, the way only you can,deep down.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Gardening, The Spaghetti squash----- Great for You.
Gardening season is here and gardeners are having a great time. Watching crops grow is fun, despite the lack of rainfall in some areas.
Early morning weeding and thinning gives a boost which lasts all day and then evening watering to soothe the crops after the day long scorching heat. The crops continue to flourish and against the odds and the gardener flourishes as well.
Yesterday, after driving around searching for a gas station to take refuge under, to escape the rain of hail pounding on the car like a panel beater, I got home to find out that the rainstorm did not go north enough to soak my garden. The heavy rainfall with hail drenched parts of central Florida and left the rest still bone dry, with brittle grass and dust.
The sight at the Hess filling station where I sought refuge was hilarious. Other motorists were doing the same thing I was trying to do, and the space under the covered portion filled up up quickly and the left over cars scrambled for spots under oak trees around the station. The pounding on my car continued even after getting refuge under the tree.
Resigning to whatever happens was the only alternative left for those who scrambled in vain. I could see drivers with bewildered looks in their eyes as the hail continued raining on cars.
I had to laugh at myself as I parked under the oak tree with hardly any protection. In short, I gave up and prayed for safety as lightning and thunder added to the excitement of the hailstorm. Excitement bordering on fear, with the background of what happened two weeks ago with tornadoes in some states. One cannot help but feel so vulnerable.
The storm according to the radio station was moving at five miles per hour and with that, it took about thirty minutes for the storm to pass. I filled up and went home expecting to see the grass soaked with rain and my crops watered for me, but to my surprise, the rain did not even cross the county line, how much more get close to my area. The grass was as dry as ever, the dust trail followed the car on the driveway, confirming the dryness was not touched. For all the pounding the car took,not a drop of water on the the garden.
The crops are still very young and holding up very well while the established crops, onugbu, nchu anwu and basil/curry are doing great. Also are the Spaghetti squash which planted themselves or rather grew where they were thrown in the compost pile and flourished. Being in a compost pile, they spread quickly and before long started flowering and bearing fruit.
I am not crazy about spaghetti squash per se, but the vigor with which they are growing made me excited about them. I had made the spaghetti squash for my mom to help keep her blood sugar within normal limits and keep her weight down. I served it with tomato and vegetable stew, usually spinach and sometimes with Jack mackerel or salmon. Other times, I served it with split green peas and and stew. Without the stew or peas, the squash had no taste and is stringy like spaghetti, and not soft. I did not like it too much although I did not search for other recipes for making it.
The seeds I threw in the compost pile germinated and spread out over the compost pile and beyond. Working in the garden this morning, after jogging to get back in shape, I counted fifteen heads of squash scattered over the squash plot, in various sizes, from new ones to football sized heads which will be ready for harvest in a matter of days, maybe few weeks.
I have to find a way to eat them and store them and that's when I started searching for recipes for spaghetti squash. With a few pounds to shed, and the tight economy, the squash will be a blessing indeed along with the other crops. Summer looks very promising for a bountiful harvest, if judging from the harvest off the plum tree and the flaming yellow flowers on the silk oak tree a few weeks ago.
It looks like the winter cold spell was just right this year and the fruit trees and plants are doing very well. I remember from years ago in the homeland,when a good harmattan spell predicted good flowering and fruit yields.
Gardening is becoming more popular as more people grow gardens to help put food on the table. I had no idea so many other people are growing some of their own food until I listened to a radio program the other day and found that it was becoming popular. Thanks to the bad economy and hardship. Gardening is fun, refreshing and gives one something to look forward to. The work, the results of the work and the harvest are great rewards and offers the opportunity for sharing.
It is hard to put in words, the satisfaction that comes from gardening, especially in the cool morning hours, before the sun is up and the air is fresh and the world is quiet. What a great time for reflecting, and renewing and refreshing of the mind.
With the profuse flowering and fruiting of the spaghetti squash, I cannot wait to see exactly what this plant has in store. In the meantime, I will just wait and see, and look up recipes for spaghetti squash. Other great squash are the buttercup, which is my favorite, and the zucchini. Those are coming up, looking great.
For gardening enthusiasts, the spaghetti squash is one vegetable to try this year. It is amazing to see those heads of squash scatter all over the place. Quite amazing and pleasing. Thanks to God for His blessings, the opportunity to plant and harvest being one of them.
Community gardens are available in some cities where people get small plots free of charge. Give it a try and enjoy the benefits and harvest. Bon Appetit.
Nwada Chinwe Enemchukwu.
Check this link.
/encrypted.google.com/search?hl=en&source=hp&biw=1304&bih=707&q=spaghetti+squash&aq=f&aqi=g10&aql=&oq=
Early morning weeding and thinning gives a boost which lasts all day and then evening watering to soothe the crops after the day long scorching heat. The crops continue to flourish and against the odds and the gardener flourishes as well.
Yesterday, after driving around searching for a gas station to take refuge under, to escape the rain of hail pounding on the car like a panel beater, I got home to find out that the rainstorm did not go north enough to soak my garden. The heavy rainfall with hail drenched parts of central Florida and left the rest still bone dry, with brittle grass and dust.
The sight at the Hess filling station where I sought refuge was hilarious. Other motorists were doing the same thing I was trying to do, and the space under the covered portion filled up up quickly and the left over cars scrambled for spots under oak trees around the station. The pounding on my car continued even after getting refuge under the tree.
Resigning to whatever happens was the only alternative left for those who scrambled in vain. I could see drivers with bewildered looks in their eyes as the hail continued raining on cars.
I had to laugh at myself as I parked under the oak tree with hardly any protection. In short, I gave up and prayed for safety as lightning and thunder added to the excitement of the hailstorm. Excitement bordering on fear, with the background of what happened two weeks ago with tornadoes in some states. One cannot help but feel so vulnerable.
The storm according to the radio station was moving at five miles per hour and with that, it took about thirty minutes for the storm to pass. I filled up and went home expecting to see the grass soaked with rain and my crops watered for me, but to my surprise, the rain did not even cross the county line, how much more get close to my area. The grass was as dry as ever, the dust trail followed the car on the driveway, confirming the dryness was not touched. For all the pounding the car took,not a drop of water on the the garden.
The crops are still very young and holding up very well while the established crops, onugbu, nchu anwu and basil/curry are doing great. Also are the Spaghetti squash which planted themselves or rather grew where they were thrown in the compost pile and flourished. Being in a compost pile, they spread quickly and before long started flowering and bearing fruit.
I am not crazy about spaghetti squash per se, but the vigor with which they are growing made me excited about them. I had made the spaghetti squash for my mom to help keep her blood sugar within normal limits and keep her weight down. I served it with tomato and vegetable stew, usually spinach and sometimes with Jack mackerel or salmon. Other times, I served it with split green peas and and stew. Without the stew or peas, the squash had no taste and is stringy like spaghetti, and not soft. I did not like it too much although I did not search for other recipes for making it.
The seeds I threw in the compost pile germinated and spread out over the compost pile and beyond. Working in the garden this morning, after jogging to get back in shape, I counted fifteen heads of squash scattered over the squash plot, in various sizes, from new ones to football sized heads which will be ready for harvest in a matter of days, maybe few weeks.
I have to find a way to eat them and store them and that's when I started searching for recipes for spaghetti squash. With a few pounds to shed, and the tight economy, the squash will be a blessing indeed along with the other crops. Summer looks very promising for a bountiful harvest, if judging from the harvest off the plum tree and the flaming yellow flowers on the silk oak tree a few weeks ago.
It looks like the winter cold spell was just right this year and the fruit trees and plants are doing very well. I remember from years ago in the homeland,when a good harmattan spell predicted good flowering and fruit yields.
Gardening is becoming more popular as more people grow gardens to help put food on the table. I had no idea so many other people are growing some of their own food until I listened to a radio program the other day and found that it was becoming popular. Thanks to the bad economy and hardship. Gardening is fun, refreshing and gives one something to look forward to. The work, the results of the work and the harvest are great rewards and offers the opportunity for sharing.
It is hard to put in words, the satisfaction that comes from gardening, especially in the cool morning hours, before the sun is up and the air is fresh and the world is quiet. What a great time for reflecting, and renewing and refreshing of the mind.
With the profuse flowering and fruiting of the spaghetti squash, I cannot wait to see exactly what this plant has in store. In the meantime, I will just wait and see, and look up recipes for spaghetti squash. Other great squash are the buttercup, which is my favorite, and the zucchini. Those are coming up, looking great.
For gardening enthusiasts, the spaghetti squash is one vegetable to try this year. It is amazing to see those heads of squash scatter all over the place. Quite amazing and pleasing. Thanks to God for His blessings, the opportunity to plant and harvest being one of them.
Community gardens are available in some cities where people get small plots free of charge. Give it a try and enjoy the benefits and harvest. Bon Appetit.
Nwada Chinwe Enemchukwu.
Check this link.
/encrypted.google.com/search?hl=en&source=hp&biw=1304&bih=707&q=spaghetti+squash&aq=f&aqi=g10&aql=&oq=
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Reflecting on Psalm 23-4
We are never alone
Even when we are alone
Even while on a slippery path
We are never left alone.
Travelling life's byways,
Passing through rough terrain
Or thrust on bad highways
We are not alone.
In times of tribulation
Or even persecution,
We are not alone.
Just as He promised
Never to leave nor forsake us,
We are never alone.
Our heavenly father is always there,
His presence surrounds us,
Reaching every depth of our being.
His love envelopes what is His
At all times, filling lives with
Peace and serenity.
We are never alone
Having a God and father
of Infinity.
We are never alone
Even when it feels like we are alone
We are never alone.
In the lowest valley,
He makes a stepping stone.
And plants our feet on it.
As He perfects His plan
Put in place for us
Even before we were born.
We are never alone
Even when alone over the years,
His perfect plan is rolled out
One step at a time,
One day at time,
One month at a time,
One year at a time.
And we are never alone.
Looking back at the winding path,
Shows a clear design
Of the work of a star designer
Perfecting His plan
Over the entire span.
Never to make us a loner.
Even when the world thinks
We are alone and defeated.
We are never alone.
His love, grace and mercy
Deliver bucketfuls of blessings
Even deep in the valley.
Counting the blessings and
Sharing the blessings
Keeps the mind at rest
With a smiling countenance,
Knowing fully well that
We are never alone.
As some may believe.
What a relief!!!
Nwada Chinwe Enemchukwu
Onye Uwa Oma
na Orlando, Florida.
Pictures by Chinwe Enemchukwu
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