Moving! Follow Link for Bacon

Yes, I am a dismal blogger.

Yes, I am moving.

Good news: Recipes! If you like bacon and cheese, check out this blog. I'm posting some of my favorite recipes.

http://heartsinthehome.blogspot.com/

Taco Casserole

Tacos and spaghetti are two of the messiest foods to eat. Spaghetti is usually pretty straightforward, but preparing all the little taco toppings can be a pain.

Casseroles, on the other hand, are a busy cook's best friend.

Mix tacos and casserole, and what do you get? A somewhat less messy taco that you can prepare ahead of time, and that uses about half the dishes. If you want to make it in the morning for dinner that night, mix up the cooked ingredients and pop the casserole dish in the fridge.

Taco Casserole

2 cups dried brown rice

2 cans black beans
1 can yellow corn

Taco spice to taste (any mix works)

1 lb. ground beef

Chopped lettuce

Salsa

Sour cream

Cheddar cheese

Tortillas & taco shells

1. Pre-cook the rice according to directions
2. Brown the beef & drain the fat
3. Preheat the oven to 350 F
4. Mix beans, rice, corn and taco spice, top with cheese. Transfer into a 9 by 13 pan, bake for 20 m. or until cheese is bubbly. If it's refrigerated, bake for 40 minutes
5. Serve with salsa, lettuce, sour cream, and cheese. Eat by itself or in tortillas or taco shells.

Additional/alternate ingredients:

Your own favorite taco toppings

1 - 1 ½ large white potatoes or 4 small white potatoes

Chop into 1-inch chunks, fry in bacon grease, drain, and mix with the beef before baking

Replace or mix the black beans with great northern beans and/or kidney beans

Mix diced tomatoes and/or tomato sauce with the beef before baking

Replace the ground beef with ground turkey for a healthier meal

Replace ground beef with diced chicken for a different texture and a healthier meal

Replace the brown rice with white rice

Enjoy!

~Maria

The Three Steps of Writing

    I've heard it said that there are no "Three Steps of Writing," and I think it's true. In order to write the best way you can, there are a myriad of techniques, teachers, styles, personalities and quirks. Your writing style, and the way you write (trust me, those are different things), will be developed over a long period of learning and experience. And so, there are no "Three Steps of Writing Well."
    However, I believe that there are three simple steps to getting actual writing done, and they are all needed in order to learn how to write well.
    Step one is simple: Read. What you read will be reflected in your writing. I think that Luke 6:45 sums it up nicely: "A good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is evil: for of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh." Basically, that means that what you spend a lot of your time or thought on will be reflected in your actions or words. There is nothing you can read that has no effect on you -- it can affect you positively, negatively, or just confuse you, but
 everyone writes for a reason, that writing cannot be unread and its effects can be long lasting. Read a lot. Read what you want to write like, read different styles, read old writing and new writing, read both fiction and nonfiction, read poetry as well as prose, read about writing.
    Step two: Write. It's as simple as that. Learning about writing is important, and reading is important, but no matter how much of either you do, the surest way to improve is to write. You will never really be able to write as well as you want, but with (lots of) learning and (lots and lots and LOTS of) writing, you will be able to write well enough to put what you want on paper, the way you want it.
    Step three: Revise. Just plain writing will never be enough. Your first draft will always have something in it that needs tweaking, or taken out, or added in. That's the point of a first draft: it is nothing more than getting your framework on paper. Nothing will ever be perfect the first time around.
    In reality, writing is quite simple. In the words of Gene Fowler, "Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead."

~Maria

Blowing the Horn

1. Again the word of the Lord came unto me, saying,

2 Son of man, speak to the children of thy people, and say unto them, When I bring the sword upon a land, if the people of the land take a man of their coasts, and set him for their watchman:

3 If when he seeth the sword come upon the land, he blow the trumpet, and warn the people;

4 Then whosoever heareth the sound of the trumpet, and taketh not warning; if the sword come, and take him away, his blood shall be upon his own head.

5 He heard the sound of the trumpet, and took not warning; his blood shall be upon him. But he that taketh warning shall deliver his soul.

6 But if the watchman see the sword come, and blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned; if the sword come, and take any person from among them, he is taken away in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at the watchman's hand.

7 So thou, O son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me.

8 When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand.

9 Nevertheless, if thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it; if he do not turn from his way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul.

Ezekial 33:1-9

This passage describes the job of the Christians in America today. We are supposed to see problems and warn people about them. That is why I started the blog Blowing the Horn. On this blog, I will post testimonies of God's power and prayer requests. Stop by and follow me to help me spread the Word.

Here is the link to the blog: http://blowingthehorn.blogspot.com/

~Maria

Help Miroslav Get Adopted

     Miroslav is a five-year-old boy who was sent to an orphanage for special-needs children by his mother because he was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. She hoped that he could come home after a year of treatment, but the orphanage does not actually help the children, and Miroslav was unable to come home. His mother asked for help to find a family to adopt him. 

     McKennaugh Kelley, who wrote this post, described Miroslav's plight this way:

     [When they met Miroslav] He was turning two. We called him “Angel Boy”—I cannot explain the beauty of his spirit. He, in circumstances that no little child should live in, was so full of a sweet, heart-breaking peace. His eyes showed no contempt or anger. Ever. They only held love and a sad, mystified wonder at why he was left alone and uncared for.

     He had just been placed at an orphanage for special needs children due to his diagnosis of cerebral palsy. His mother still held rights. She was only allowed to visit him one day a week because she had entrusted him to this place. We got to see her three or four times over the seven weeks that we were there. Once, she brought Miroslav’s older brother, a rambunctious boy who enjoyed striking us down with his plastic sword. The boy showed a gentle side, though, as he bent and tenderly kissed Miroslav’s cheek. Miroslav smiled ever so sweetly at him. I sensed the love between these two brothers. I even felt that the mother cared deeply for her youngest son. Why, then, had she left him here?

     With the help of a translator, my family and I asked her if we could do anything that could assist her in bringing Miroslav home. Did she need money to take care of him? No, she didn’t. She said that he got the therapy and care he needed here. Our hearts broke as we thought, “If only you could understand! Your child gets no therapy. No special care. He spends all his hours behind crib bars, waiting for you. He is hungry, afraid, abandoned.”

     Miroslav’s mother told us that, in a year, he would come back to live with them. We knew what a year in this place could do to a child. “Oh, God,” we prayed, “keep Miroslav strong.”

When we left the orphanage, when we looked into Miroslav’s angel eyes one last time, we held hope in our hearts that he would be freed from this place.

     Back in the US, we were unable to get news of this little boy. Then, after more than a year had passed, we saw a photo of him with a missionary. The very photo in this article. He looked so happy, so joyful. But we knew that when the missionaries left, he would be back in his crib. Little Miroslav was still at the orphanage. His mother’s promise had not been kept. We’ll never know why. Still, he remained unavailable for adoption. We prayed. We asked God that his family would take him back, or else they would sign their rights away, so that he would have a chance to leave the orphanage.

Today, he is still in the same place, still waiting for his momma to come back for him. She never will. He is turning five. He will spend his birthday alone, in a crib.

     10 days ago, nearly 3 years since we told Miroslav goodbye, I received an email from a Ukrainian friend. In her words, “God is making the best for children who need him. Can you imagine that the lady from [the orphanage]…said ‘please find family for Miroslav’?”

It was an answer to prayer. He is available for adoption now. He can be freed. If only an adoptive family can be found.

     That’s where your part comes in: Share. Miroslav’s. Story.

     Most everyone knows that Ukraine has all but destroyed part of Kyiv in their rioting. I have seen photos of beautiful monuments that I stood under that are blackened, burned, and crumbled. It is shocking and terribly saddening to someone who has been there. But, even more troublesome, are the Russian troops who are taking over Crimea. Adoptions in that region have been stopped. Adoptions ARE still taking place in Miroslav’s region. Is time running out? Maybe. I don’t know.

     Is there a homestudy-ready family out there that could rush through the paperwork and claim Miroslav before he’s stuck behind crib bars forever? There must be. But it may take many of us to reach the right person. You can take the first step towards finding Miroslav a family by pressing the Share button.

     Not all great things are hard.

     The person who wrote this article can be reached at mckennaugh [at] inbox [dot] com or 570-549-2442. Please visit the original post at http://therebelution.com/blog/2014/04/help-miroslav-get-adopted/#.VEVX1PldWwE for more information.

In Christ,

~Maria

The Grammar Rant

The short-and-easy, hate-grammar-but-want-to-write-person's checklist.

1. Don't write alot. You don't write alittle, abit, acantaloupe, aporkchop. Don't write alot.
2. Avoid repetitions. Repetitions are annoying. Repetitions draw away from the story and to the repetition. Constantly check for repetitions. Only use repetitions for specific purposes.
3. Commas are a wonderful invention that keep sentences from running together like this one is and can prevent odd sentences like this one: Let's eat Grandma vs. Let's eat, Grandma. Commas can save lives. Use them.
4. Proper punctuation! Some things, like exclamation points and periods, can be interchangeable. Other things, like question marks, aren't. Don't end a question with a period! It makes the question sound flat and confuses the reader. For instance: Don't we need to get lettuce. vs. Don't we need to get lettuce?
5. (How often do you see parenthesis in books? Not that often, right? [You never, ever see double parenthesis {Avoid parenthesis like the plague}])
6. The dreaded -ly word! Really, suddenly, abruptly, angrily, sorrowfully, happily, faithfully, amazingly, beautifully, prettily, lovingly, gently, harshly, personally. These sneaky little pirates like to steal the "umph" from your descriptions. Unless these descriptive words are necessary, don't use them. When you edit, search for -ly words and pick and choose the important ones. Let your descriptions stand strong on their own!

Tune in again for more grammar/spelling points!

~Maria

Writing Prompt

"Every breath hurt."

Who is saying this? What does it mean? Physically or emotionally? A beginning or an ending?

Write a paragraph from this sentence.

~Maria

Isaiah 55

Isaiah 55

King James Version (KJV)

1 Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.

2 Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness.
3 Incline your ear, and come unto me: hear, and your soul shall live; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of David.
4 Behold, I have given him for a witness to the people, a leader and commander to the people.
5 Behold, thou shalt call a nation that thou knowest not, and nations that knew not thee shall run unto thee because of the Lord thy God, and for the Holy One of Israel; for he hath glorified thee.
6 Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near:
7 Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.
9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.
10 For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:
11 So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.
12 For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
13 Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree: and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.

Thoughts on verse 2: What do we spend our money, time and worry on that has no eternal value?
Verses 8 and 9: God is in control of everything, and He is so much wiser than us! Whenever I think about that, I feel kind of silly for worrying.
Verses 10-11: God's word always does something. Just like when rain falls and waters the grass and flowers, God's word sows seeds or waters seeds already planted. You never know how God might use the sharing of scripture.

~Maria

Writing Prompt

A father and daughter? Husband and wife? A policeman trying to keep a child safe? A family being arrested? Is it the beginning of a story, or an ending?

Write a short description of everything this picture could represent. Pick one that grabs your attention and run with it.

~Maria

NOTE: I did not take this picture. All copyright belongs to the photographer.

Writing Prompt

Culture is a powerful and complex part of our world. Nomads, farmers, villagers, city people, rich, poor, artistic or academic, everyone has a culture.

Think about different cultures: Spanish, French, Norwegian, Native American, Indian, Japanese. Now think about “subcultures:” America's southerners, people from Louisiana, different casts in India, the wealthy of society, the beggars. What character can be given depth and interest by changing their nationality? What could be unusual? Think about different types of people and try switching around their nationality: The construction worker from Louisiana, the soldier from France, the Native American chef, the wealthy Norwegian mountaineer.

~Maria   

Writing Prompt of the Week

Since I missed last week (trip to the Creation Museum & Kentucky Horse Park), I will post two prompts now.

What is something that you would not expect to find a character liking? Maybe a shy, quiet girl enjoys turkey hunting or deep-sea fishing. Maybe a hardened warrior is an avid pottery collector. Maybe your villain is an expert on teas.

Think about your characters. Try to give each one something surprising -- either a hobby, a memory, or a cherished object.

Music plays a huge roll in a film. Ben Botkin (a composer himself) says that "if script is king, then music is queen." A lot of people like to listen to music while they write. Soundtracks or contemporary music can provide inspiration. 

Listen to soundtracks while thinking about your writing. Think about how, if your novel were a movie, what scene would go with each song. Try "storyboarding" a scene in your head. See what ideas or scenarios the music gives you.

~Maria

Writing Prompt of the Week

Pain, fear and secrets give depth to a person. Fear was last week's prompt. Now, what pain does your character have? A regret? A memory? Or is it a physical ailment, one that keeps them from doing things they would like? If your character doesn't have a pain, brainstorm until he or she has one.

~Maria

Writing Prompt of the Week

Two this time!

What is your character's greatest fear? Write a scene where your main character or a secondary character has to face their greatest fear.

What food does your character hate? Write a situation where he/she is served their least favorite food and feels compelled to eat it.

~Maria

Writing Prompt of the Week

Well, let's see if I can keep something going on this place...

Think of a compass and a sword. What do they mean? What kind of person do they belong to? Were they found by someone or given as a gift? What story do they have? Who can own them that seems unlikely?

Guide Me to the Land

Blue, crystal clear, endless. So much ocean, so far, in every direction. No land in sight. The captain licked his dry lips and looked up at the smiling sun, so yellow and bright. Steady waves slapped gently against his tiny craft's hull, rocking him in their swells, lulling him, crooning. His cramped hands felt molded to wheel, unable to move. No matter. There was nowhere to go.

A tiny whisper, seeming to mix with the gentle lullaby of the waves, lifted his drooping head off his chest. He knew the voice. He knew he should listen to it. He did. The voice curled and murmured, different than the waves, but so soft it hardly mattered. It called for action, for movement. He didn't move, but he smiled. He had listened to the voice. Was that not enough? He would follow it, someday. But not now. The waves were more gentle than they ever had been, now.

The voice whispered again. His cracked lips frowned now. He had listened to it, why wouldn't the voice stop? It whispered again. The waves called, so soft, so comforting. He should stay. More whispering, beginning to rise. He should go.

The captain opened his eyes again, weary and unused to the brightness of the sun. Did it always glare so? The waves lapped and caressed. He squinted. He has opened his eyes before. It was enough.

More murmurings, rising again.
Why do you wander?
Wander? He raised his head more, straightened his back. He was not wandering. He would never wander! Too much was at stake. His boat, probably others. The waves laughed and turned his boat. See? They said. See? There is land in sight yet. He turned about and strained his eyes. Curse this sun! Beating down, clouding his vision. Was there land? Or had he truly wandered?
There! There, away from the sun, lying low on the horizon. Land, lush, green, full of water. He licked his lips, so dry, and longed for the water. Come! Come to me, drink the living water, never thirst again! That voice, calling, carried on the cooling breezes, carried with -
The scent of land.
Stiff hands broke from the tiller, nerve pains shooting through them as the captain swung it over wide, steering for land. Slowly, so slowly the boat began to drift around. Too slowly! Another moment and the land could be lost from sight. What could move him quicker, turn him around? Row, row! cried the waves, slapping against his hull. He reached for the oars, but his hand stopped when it touched them. Row, and see where you get! the waves where chuckling. He listened for the voice. What might it tell him to do?
No voice came. He waited for a moment more, rigid in the sun. And then a breeze started.
Wind! Cool wind, sent by the sender of that tiny voice, he knew. The captain grabbed for his sails, lying stiff and unused on the deck, coated with salt. His fingers broke through the crusty surface and grabbed the cloth, pulling it out of its neat pile and to the mast. Hurry, he urged himself, the waves were pushing him away from that precious land! They were whispering to him still, dragging him back down to his place on the floor. He would not listen. He worked the lines frantically, how stiff they were, running up the sail to catch the precious breeze. The voice whispered on, always there to guide him if he would only listen.
Now the sail was up! He grabbed the tiller again and stood fast against the rocking waves. The sail luffed, and he kept the tiller swung wide. The sail filled! The boat lurched and swung, pointing towards land. The waves still came, stronger now. The boat's prow caught the first one and lifted high into the air, crested the top and led the startling drop down into the trough. It caught the next one and nosed high again. The captain struggled to keep the tiller straight, keeping the boat pointed toward land. He tired, his hands cramping with his tight grip.
Let me steer. The captain listened, his struggle calming. He loosened his grip on the tiller, not sure how he would stay on course but ready to trust. Sure enough, strong hands gripped it and began to guide it towards land straighter than an arrow's flight. The sailor smiled, feeling another's strength and wisdom guiding him, guiding him home, guiding him to the land.

Birds I

I love my zoom lens! I recently captured some very good pictures of different birds with it.

These owls from PAWS animal rescue (http://www.paws-sc.com/) were brought to our barn for a raptors presentation. Tosh is a Barred Owl who has sight issues, and the other is a Red Phase Eastern Screech Owl who was hit by a car.

Red Phase Eastern Screech Owl

Tosh

Tosh II

Contemplative Owl

Tosh III

Talons

Who?

In Christ,
~Maria

EDIT April 21, 2014:
I'm sorry for these pictures being offline! I may be able to fix this post later.

Why English is Hard to Learn

Not wonder I was a dunce at grammer : )

Why English is Hard to Learn

We'll begin with box, the plural is boxes,

But the plural is of ox is oxen, not oxes.

One fowl is a goose, and two are called geese,

Yet the plural off moose is never called meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a house full of mice;

But the plural of house is houses, not hice.

The plural of man is always men,

But the plural of pan is never pen.

If I speak of a foot, and you show me two feet,

And I give you a book, would a pair be a beek?

If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,

Why shouldn't two booths be called beeth?

If the singular's this and the plural is these,

Should the plural of kiss be ever called keese?

We speak of a brother and also of brethren,

But though we say mother, we never say methren.

Then the masculine pronouns are he, his, and him;

But imagine the feminine . . . she, shis, and shim!

-Anonymous

Short Story

I have started work on a short story set on an island off the coast of Wales. It's called Riddle on the Wall right now, and I started it because I wanted to experiment on a story with riddles - and, well, so that I could combine a few of my favorite genres.

It's a medieval-mystery story that starts in an abbey-turned-fortress following the story of Constance,  the young infirmary assistant at St. Mary's Abbey. A strange man showes up at the gates identifying himself as the "Wandering Warrior," and warns of trouble from the seas. The old archer believes that war is coming, and begins training the young men of the Abbey, the surrounding fermtowns, and villages in the art of war. Soon after the Warrior disappears, a riddle appears carved into the stone walls of the infirmary. Constance and her brother Gabriel begin a search for the answer, as a growing threat begins to move in from the sea, and Constance finds her courage tested.

Here is my pinterest board.

I have a goal of 50 pages before I stop, edit, switch stories or do anything else.

May Characters in Costume Challenge - Reveal

And once again, the Characters in Costume Challenge reveal.

This month both my sister and I participated.

This is my sister's character:

She is a pilgrim. And she has a knife. That is the extent of the information I managed to glean from my sister.

And a pony.

This is my character. Her name is Vixa Shen, often just called Vix.

She is an orphan living in the desert country Eremnan, famous for its silk and dyes. She hunts and gathers edible plants for a living.

 Her treasures are a dagger, a single red headscarf, and the strange necklace and parchment that I posted here.

Her headscarf

She actually has red hair and gray eyes.

April Antagonists - Characters in Costume Reveal

This month I participated in the wonderful Characters in Costume Challenge at Gillian Adams' wonderful blog. This month's challenge was to dress up as or draw a picture of a villain, preferably from one of your stories. I chose to draw Interitus, the main villain for my WIP Project Awaken: Fully Alive.

My apologies for the poor photo quality. And the unfinished state of the drawing.
Interitus was once the most beautiful of all creatures, the best of the Shining Ones, the jewel of God's creation. He was named Filius Aurorae, the Son of the Morning. But he became proud, and desired to become like God, to be God. He waited, sowing the seeds of deception in the hearts of his brothers for millennium. Finally, he rebelled. He and his legions, a full third of the Shining Ones, brought discord and fear, anger and war to the Spirit Realm. They became the Night Legions, and he became Interitus, the Deceiver.
They were hurled from the heavens, sentenced to eternal separation from the presence of God. In his bitterness and anger, and hoping to find another way to wrest the Existence from God, Interitus poisoned the Basin, home of the humans. He blinded them and led them astray, destroying the link between their world and his.
Be sure to stop by the other participating sites!

In the Lamb,

~Maria