creativity

An Experience and Tea “Recipe” with Coffee-Mate’s Natural Bliss

Time for Tea
I’m a creature of habit and routine, like most people, but every once in awhile I feel experimental. This usually expresses itself in the form of cooking or mixing drink-ables.
I’m a tea-drinker over coffee (mainly after developing a sensitivity to caffeine, such a grave injustice for a writer). But as such is life, I consume an array of whites to blacks and sleepy herbal to energized breakfasts.

Over the years, I’ve kept things simple: water and sugar. Until my first family Christmas trip to Canada when I experienced having a cuppa the more “traditional” way, with milk. Even if unsweetened, I enjoyed this new taste bud tickler. I figured if milk could be added to coffee and tea, creamers could as well. A part of my palate missed the flavor blending I easily managed with coffee. So, after being a fan of International Delight’s creamers, for nearly five years, I purchased Nestle’s Coffee-Mate Natural Bliss (vanilla). You could say their calming advertising of steamy and creamy beverages got the better of my curiosity. The simple ingredients angle also didn’t hurt.

Natural Bliss Tea Recipe

The first cup.

Now I don’t usually “endorse” products on my site, but after the first sip of this concoction I felt inclined to share with others. Keep Reading

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A Second, Then a Third

Two siblings,
brought together not through birth,
but adoption
Locked eyes in a stare down
Filled with the “eye of the tiger
One daringly taking the first leap
Two siblings,
clashed to the ground wrestling, thrashing
A frantic separation not knowing who was the victor
The youngest paced in contemplation
whipping its tail.

Brought to you in part via this Daily Prompt and the other links provided.

Ghostwriting My Life

When I think of having someone write my biography. My first thought is why wouldn’t I want to write my own memoirs, plenty of authors & writers do or have. I’m not, nor do I expect to become, a celebrity. Nor do I consider myself incapable of doing so. That aside, would I still be interested in seeing how someone else would paint my life? Sure, why not? And given the option of any author living or dead. I give my knee-jerk vote to…Richard Castle.

Screen capture via amazon.com

Why Richard Castle? Not only is he ruggedly handsome (or so I’m led to believe), but have you read his books? They’re action packed, humanizing, engaging, maybe even a guilty pleasure (to some, not moi), and his journalistic experience means he’s thorough with his research. Not to mention he’s dedicated to his pieces. His ego wouldn’t allow him to do a sloppy job regardless of how great or simple the task. Granted, my life is not filled with the same level of excitement as drug cartels, or life tagging along with members of the NYPD. But I’m sure there are a couple of highlights he could run with, and I’d love to see them.

Who would you choose or did choose? Leave a comment below and/or a link to your own post answering this Daily Prompt and just maybe I’ll edit this post to include links to my favorites 😉

Lincoln Penny

Subliminal Quibbles

http://photos-e.ak.instagram.com/hphotos-ak-xaf1/t51.2885-15/10995124_848750225187892_2060713188_n.jpg © Image courtesy of L.A. Lanier’s Instagram (@thesquibbler)

The year was 1995. What was I doing? Enjoying life to the max by still being a kid. Old enough to have a vague sense of the world, but young enough to have a thirsty imagination, seek adventure and not take things too seriously. Responsibilities were simple, go to school, try not to be a pain to my mother and just live. Sometimes I ask myself. Whatever happened to that little girl? She was damn near fearless, even with being someone conscious of mortality. She knew how to entertain herself when friends weren’t around, but also capable of making and keeping friendships, neighbors and classmates alike. Invited to slumber parties often, a “delight to have over” was a frequent compliment of parents. Actually looked forward to going to school, talking about her day, and had an optimistic disposition regarding her future. The…

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Away, Barren, Soothing

Participating in any sort of free association is usually difficult for me because I’m an over-thinker (AKA clutter minded). I see (read) something and there’s probably five things at once. So, in order to have an actual response, I have to consciously clear my mind, put it on pause, or let whatever mood I’m in dictate.

Home…
Soil…
Rain…

Resulted in away barren soothing. I didn’t have a story to relate to this or any other post idea in mind. I just wanted to write and address this prompt to see what words would come of it. Now that I have them, I think I’ll use them to write something else (influenced by my recent run of writing dares). And then leave this post at that.

Turning away from a known home
Heading off into a distance
Soaring through skies of wonder
Not being able to witness
The scenes of altitude
Nearing the barren lands of drought and plains
When the rain decides to replenish
Its tickles upon the soil are soothing

Daily Prompt

Ten Word Journal-ing (8)

Creativity coyly seduces reason inside my brain keeping me complete.

People knew dentists would know the truth,
but lied anyway.

Valentine’s Day pizza,
had enough for two,
went home,
puked.

Some turn to poetry for ease,
but discover it challenging.

Poet who doesn’t know it,
needs more than rhyming mastery.

Poetry, unique as fingerprints or as common as brown eyes.

So be it.
The thoughts summoned whenever distance is imposed.

Water trickling in from neighboring walls,
pooling,
an unwelcome surprise.

Trust and compassion gradually replaced with dissociation and minimal communication.

Electric flash,
Thunderous roaring proceeded.
Goodbye tree, I am sorry.

Winter Wonder

Winter wonder* comes
The southerner admires its glimmer
Frosted ground becoming
A twinkle harbinger of tranquility

*To see the poem with a pretty background I made, click the link 😉

Ten Word Journal-ing (7)

Funny,
some will use
what one didn’t request against you.

Anxiety crippled her performance,
but she prepared,
and was fine.

Thought matters.
Even when evident
The gift was for anyone?

If you don’t expect anything in return,
I’ll willingly accept.

With enough repetition,
she could manage playing one unstable note.

This one time at band camp, oh, it wasn’t camp.

Floss tied to a doorknob,
wasn’t ready,
out it came.

Possessing the dapper-ness of a tailor,
it was all style.

Mind disturbances
only loneliness stirs,
thank goodness for having cats.

No ringing, texts, or emails.
Did anyone still remember him?

Ten Word Journal-ing (6)

Rattling bank,
lack of coins indicated too many cash ins.

The Piggy bank looked at another,
and said “beats slaughter.”

A free night of film discovery from a caring network.

Generosity was giving away her last two chocolate chip cookies.

Her time was handed over freely,
but needed SOME reimbursement.

Remember the pressure, hours of reviewing?
I somehow miss them.

She pushed herself for keeping A’s,
that’s all she had.

Content appeared
Was the professor bored
Or needed us awake?

Simple
Alive
Bonsai
It died
Once left in my care.

Her lips prevented her from exploring certain woodwinds,
how sad.

Ten Word Journal-ing (5)

For many
Gastric butterflies are endearing
For others
Social nightmares.

She could change the date on Facebook,
few would notice.

Your personal new year,
showered with jubilation or painful reminders.

Her favorite
from Amsterdam
was longer than she was tall. (1/3)

Wrapped around her neck,
it could still kiss the ground. (2/3)

Thoughts, impractical,
but what other person would have one? (3/3)

Reached his hand,
Pulled her close,
As their song played.

She could never dance cheek to cheek (was too short).

Appeared in dream form,
but gone before I could think.

Floating through wild adventures with the click of a channel.