Written in 2008 & previously published onMichael Lee Johnson’s A Tender Touch & Shade of Blue blog
by: Rebecca Taylor
She’s a wild child
There’s nothing mild about her
It’s all hot sauce and chili peppers
She drives in the spurs of her dad’s old pickup truck.
Carrying her wild side everywhere she goes
It just keeps showing in plain sight
She’s full of sass and style
Every once in a while
She gets a little calmer
But she’s wild all the same.
She’s got a fiery temper
Every challenge tempts her
Driving everyone around her crazy
She talks in mazes
Some wonder why in blazes she is that way.
She’s a wild child
Smooth as glass
And bold as brass
She’s full of spice
Never stops to think twice.
by: Rebecca Taylor
**previously published by Perspectives Magazine**
I am Scarlet Red but you can call me burgundy or crimson if you’d like, just don’t describe me as ordinary. I have an amazing presence on earth because I am prize winning ribbons and flamboyant roses carried by brides on their wedding day or planted in immaculately kept gardens. My depth catches everyone as soon as I clutch their gaze. I look great in clear curiously shaped bottles of perfume that carry memorable names like Raspberry Wonder and Ardent Ruby. Even my name has a twang of sophistication. When I am bejewelled on clothing like exquisite ball gowns and radiant dress shirts I illuminate the room especially when I’m placed in the spot light.
Some say that I am a vain shade but I laugh and tell them that I surge through the veins of every human being on the globe, radiating their blood, assisting to give them life. I am also the colour of the human heart and many other vital organisms on earth. I adore being who I am, the most beautiful colour in the world. However, without my friends shimmery blue, gorgeous green, sunflower yellow and the others, the planet wouldn’t be as splendid a place for me.
by: Rebecca Taylor
“All the news ever talks about is fat free this and organic that,” complained Monica Moulton to her friends. It was Friday night and they were having their monthly get together, this time at Simone Vien’s house.
“I know, sometimes you just don’t know what you should and shouldn’t be eating. Researchers are always changing their minds, one day you should be drinking milk and then a few days later there is something bad for you in it,” replied Carmen Philips.
“Funny that we’re talking about this now, at our monthly pig out,” teased Simone.
“I think we can all agree that chips, pretzels, and fudge brownies are not something you should be having every day, but once in a while isn’t going to kill you,” retorted Carmen.
“All that talk about putting the nutrition content on the menu and the calorie count, who wants that? If I go out for a meal at a restaurant once in a while, I’m going to choose something that I want to eat, not the item with the lowest amount of calories in it,” said Simone.
“I can make an edible spinach salad at home but I’m no good with those fancy pasta dishes. Macaroni and cheese is about as fancy as I get,” said Monica.
“Well you’re a single mom working two jobs, it isn’t like you have the time to cook, and I’ve had supper at your place before, you manage the four food groups,” replied Carmen taking a handful of pretzels from the bowl on the coffee table.
“Yeah, bagged salad and pizza,” retorted Monica laughing, “some cook I am.”
“Pizza has all four food groups, you probably wouldn’t want to eat it every night, but it’ll do.”
“I hate packing lunches for my kids and I’m home all day and have the time to cook,” said Carmen. “I never know what to make and so many things contain traces of peanuts which aren’t allowed because of the possible food allergies. I’m so glad some companies are starting to put the peanut free symbol on their boxes, it makes shopping so much faster.”
“These get togethers are great because it gives us all a chance to relax and have fun once a month but what we should be doing is getting together and making meals that we can freeze, then our lives would all be so much less stressful,” said Simone.
“It would make things faster wouldn’t it but how much would we cook?”
“We could make enough to last a few weeks, and some nights we could throw things together like we are now,” said Monica.
“Some of those cooking shows say meal planning is the way to go,” answered Carmen pouring herself another glass of wine.
“I don’t know how much more planning I want to do in my life, I seem to be living from my agenda with coordinating all my work shifts, babysitters, soccer practices and piano lessons, to have to plan meals on top of it all,” replied Monica sighing.
“We could get our kids involved and maybe Carmen and I could get our husbands involved too. We could all get together and make the plans and then us ladies could go grocery shopping and then we could cook together and on the nights we aren’t using our meals maybe the kids and husbands could help out.”
“It’s worth a try. It’ll help us all have healthier lifestyles and then maybe the kids will be able to apply it throughout their lives and it won’t be so hard for them when they’re our ages,” answered Carmen.
“We can’t cut out all the foods that are supposedly not good for us because eating should be fun, not all calorie counted, measured portions,” replied Monica between bites of her brownie.
“We can do this, none of us will give up our favourite foods, and I don’t think any of us are going to go overboard and become tofu eating vegans,” replied Simone her blue eyes twinkling.
“To each their own,” teased Monica, “I guess the tofu eaters are entitled to their own opinions.”
“Like my little Charlie’s love for peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches. I understand peanut butter and jelly, the thought of PB & mayo isn’t appetizing to me but if he’ll eat it,” laughed Simone.
“Hopefully we can find a way to get my two to stop being such picky eaters. With the little bit of time I have to cook and the fact that they hate any kind of vegetable that isn’t a French fry,” answered Monica.
“We’ll hide the veggies, don’t you worry, and as long as you bake the French fries they’re vegetables,” answered Carmen.
“We can do this, we’ll get it all figured out and we’ll all be eating the things we like in moderation. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the taste of junk food occasionally.”
Monica, Simone, and Carmen got themselves organized, they got together more often and planned and cooked together. They got their families involved and learned how to make some fun new dishes like a grilled veggie and pasta dish, rice and meat wrapped in grape leaves cooked in a tomato sauce and a quick and easy stew recipe. They learned how to manage their time, their menus, and their lifestyles while still enjoying their favourite foods. The three friends still got together once a month to pig out and have fun together, sometimes they just talked or watched a movie but more and more they were sharing new recipes, ideas and takes on cooking. They learned how to cook and have fun all in moderation.
**previously published by Dark Fountain Magazine.**
by: Rebecca Taylor
It was late in the day when Gord Taft arrived home from his job at the flooring warehouse. He entered through the kitchen door, and immediately the smells of a home cooked meal hit him. His heart starting pumping faster. His hands tightly gripped his set of keys. I must be hungry, I’m losing my mind, he thought but a glance at the kitchen table told him he was sane. It was laden with food; there was enough food to feed a large family. There was a turkey sitting at his place waiting to be carved, cranberry sauce, homemade rolls, several kinds of salads and vegetables, and a multitude of pies on his counter. There wasn’t a dish in the sink, the stove was off, the dishes didn’t look familiar. What is going on here? I don’t own a serving dish, there is no way that I could cook all this and still have the kitchen look this good. The door was locked when I came in, I’ll check the back one. It was locked too, Gord walked through the rest of the house but everything looked untouched just as he had left it that morning. This doesn’t make sense, if someone did happen to break into my house, they would have taken something not brought me a feast that would feed dozens of people. What do I do now? Do I call the police because someone was obviously here? Will they believe me and realize that I am not some crazy attention-needing bachelor. The food smells so good too, but I don’t dare eat it, who knows who made it or why they were here. I’m going for a walk; I’m going to figure out what to do about this.
Gord strode out of the house and locked the door. His knuckles were white from clenching the keys so tightly. He stuck the keys in his pockets and walked out onto the sidewalk. He walked around the block and then not knowing why he ended up outside Claire Post’s door. He knocked and Claire came to the door crying followed by an older couple.
“Can you come back later, Gord, this isn’t a good time,” sobbed Claire.
“What’s wrong?” asked Gord ignoring Claire’s request for him to go away.
“These are my parents; they brought a feast and were going to be meeting Charles for the first time. They met me at work, got my car and keys, and then headed here to get the food ready for tonight, and then they headed back to get me. I drove home and expected to see a beautiful dinner all prepared and what do I find a cold empty kitchen. Somebody came in and stole my special supper. Charles is going to be here any time with his parents and we were all going to get to know each other over dinner but now I have no dinner. I’m going to call the police.”
Gord’s facial expression remained indifferent. “Come with me, I want to show you something, you’re going to like this.”
“Were you not listening to me?” snapped Claire, “my supper was stolen and you want to show me something.”
“Just come on, don’t argue.”
Claire and her parents followed Gord out of the house and down the driveway and then headed up an identical driveway to an identical house. Gord let them into the kitchen immediately, the smell of a home cooked meal greeted them.
“That’s the feast!” exclaimed Mrs. Post.
“I’m calling the police, why did you do it, you thief,” demanded Mr. Post.
“Whoa, hold on a minute,” said Gord struggling to keep a straight face. “Claire, did the set of keys you gave your parents have my key on it, the one I gave you in case of an emergency?”
“Yes, I keep all my keys together so I don’t lose them.”
“Your parents let themselves into my house not yours,” answered Gord allowing himself to laugh for the first time since he had first come home to find the feast.
After giving herself a minute to take in the information, Claire laughed about the uncanny situation. “Daddy, you owe Gord an apology, he didn’t steal your food, you and Mama put it in his house not mine. You never listen to me. I told you it was the third house from the corner; you know that and my address.”
A few hours later, the dinner party and Gord were finishing the feast, still laughing about the key confusion.
Continuation of last weeks post (Just the two (part one))
“Hey, get off me!” the boy cried, trying to push her away. “I said, Get off me!”
She smiled, rubbing her cheek against his like a mother would. A few seconds in, and several curious stares later, she let him go, still smiling.
The boy frowned, but it held much less hostility than before. “What’s that for?”
She wanted to say it was because he looked like he needed one, but she knew his pride would force him to react negatively. Instead, she simply said, “Because.”
by: Rebecca Taylor
People talk behind the backs of others
Gossips and criticisms come in mounds
Some keep it to a whisper
Others speak it loud and clear
Helpful hints say some
Repeated and rearranged to suit the joke
If you don’t like how something is done
It’s better to speak from the front
Two stories told this way instead of one
How different the words fall now.