Andrea Fulton - Bracebridge & Other Musings

The littlest bites

2009-08-19T17:46:00.000-07:00

The dough lay on the baking sheet, pale and undressed. The twisted shapes were waiting for the usual egg wash and the sprinkling of sugar and cinnamon. I stood outside the pâtisserie window, my forehead pressed against the tall, etched glass, wanting one of these pastries so badly I could nearly die for it. The aromas from the shop floated through the doorway, mingling with the street smells.

The Music

2009-08-13T12:48:00.000-07:00

I wait in silence, the invitation ever present for her to slip into my awareness; to whisper into my ear the thoughts, the words, I know are hiding, somewhere, ready to emerge from the fog, needing only a little push to begin the burst of music, the song my heart is longing to sing. Her name is Saraswati. My muse. She is the music that plays

Me at the age of five. Taken by Ansel Adams, December 23, 1950

2009-08-01T18:49:00.000-07:00

Going to Christmas

2009-08-01T17:49:00.000-07:00

It was Monday night and I was four. I sat at the top of the stairs, waiting impatiently for the bell to ring. My head was teeming with excitement and my heart was singing my favorite song. Per so nent hod i e. Each syllable was detached from the other, for the Latin words made no sense to me, but this was the tune that I sang when I knew it was time for him to

Now that it's over

2009-07-25T07:48:00.000-07:00

Now that it’s over, I have her ring. A remembrance of slender, tapered fingers; of almond-shaped nails that never met a cuticle; of fingers that flew over the keys with confidence and joy, eliciting melody from herheart. My mother was in love with melody. She heard melody in everything -- in the hum of the outboard motor engine and the gurgle of a baby’s laugh. She was a romantic, and

Fiji

2009-07-25T07:45:00.000-07:00

The melon felt heavy in my palm, weighted with golden juice; aroma like warm, ripe summer. I was surprised to see the fruit in the market. Most fresh foods seem to take on an ashen cast by the time they reached this small "super" market in Savusavu, a room the equivalent of a fairly sizeable storage barn. This cantaloupe was neither grey nor wasted. It smelled delicious and my mouth

On the street where I live

2009-07-24T18:45:00.000-07:00

I live on a street where silence calls loudly "Come sit here. Quietly. Listen." I live on a street where I am Myself. No Pretense. No Dissembling. I live on a street where Beings turn inward, looking to the soul for Nourishment instead of running to MacDonald's to fill the empty reservoir. I live on a street where Light dazzles and Music is in the breeze; where Joy takes each by the

Blowing in the wind

2009-07-24T18:37:00.000-07:00

Wind is for circulating the things in life that need to keep on the move. It's for sweeping clean the odd bit that doesn't quite fit; that looks at you questioningly and says What am I doing here? It's for moving the chi around the earth; for swirling it through the trees and the grasses; for caressing a baby's cheek and playing with your cat's whiskers. The wind blows through my hair

Solitude

2009-07-24T18:03:00.000-07:00

Endless people. Endless lines. Every once in a while, one needs to get out of the line, step to the side and take a deep breath. Carve out a little time and space for quiet time, for solitude, for the self. I seldom take the time to do this. I get so caughtup in the gotta-do-it stuff that I find the day has passed without a moment for slowing down my body or my brain. Not a moment in the

Freedom

2009-07-24T17:59:00.000-07:00

I hate people who try to defend that which is, in my estimation, patently wrong. I am talking about the right wing population of our country, the über conservative faction of America that proudly carries the torch of Christian values, of family values, of moral values, of values that necessitate condemnation of those who want room to think for themselves, and to live their life with the freedom

The downside of technology

2009-07-24T17:46:00.000-07:00

or What do you do when the damned thing brakes?OMG. It's Dead. I jab the at keys and buttons viciously, hoping the urgency of my touch will wake up the monster, get it on my side, coax it to bewilling to help. But no amount of prodding or kicking or sweet talk will wake the demon. It just looks back at me with its expressionless face awash with my latest desktop photo. I resist a desire to

Her religion is love

2009-07-24T17:43:00.000-07:00

It was a startling disclosure. I had been diagnosedwith NASH -- non-alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver,and I was rated 50% on my new life insurance policy.That was four years ago. Constant monitoring showedthe disease was still alive and thriving in my liver.Then in September of 2007, I received a bit of newsthat knocked me to my knees: my blood tests cameback showing I had severely

Jazz

2009-07-24T17:40:00.000-07:00

Come on, hon, we're gonna paint the town -- and all that jazz.I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down -- and all that jazz.Come on, babe, I know a whoopee spot where the gin is cold and the piana's hot.It's just a noisy hall where there's a nightly brawl, and all that jazz.That’s from the musical Chicago, a song sung in the show by women emerging from their cocoons. Wow. Was that

Working on Wall Street with Martha and Brian

2009-07-24T17:34:00.000-07:00

Why, oh why, every time I hear a cooking term, do I think of Martha Stewart? Think of Martha, and think of those many years ago that we worked together in New York, she a stock broker, me the the managing partner's secretary. And when I think of Martha, I think of Brian. Brian Dennehy, actor and great all-round guy. It was fun, back then, to sit at the end of the hall. My office was the

2009-07-24T16:48:00.000-07:00

I hope you enjoy this 4 minute video about Bracebridge. It's always easier to talk about something that the reader has some knowledge of!