Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,

Written on a window, soon after her marriage, 1713.

Whilst thirst of praise and vain desire of fame,
In every age is every woman’s aim;
With courtship pleas’d, of silly toasters proud,
Fond of a train, and happy in a crowd;
On each proud fop bestowing some kind glance,
Each conquest owing to some loose advance;
While vain coquets affect to be pursued,
And think they’re virtuous, if not grossly lewd:
Let this great maxim be my virtue’s guide;
In part she is to blame that has been try’d–
He comes too near, that comes to be deny’d.{22} Written on a window, soon after her marriage, 1713.

An Early Blue Stocking!  I have my doubts!  Not even the most modest flirtying allowed!

Tis true, my dears, a little flattery will not come amiss

However blue my stocking I see nothing too remiss

returning flattery with a gentle kiss! 

Fran

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RAT

Rat

We were sitting around, killing time, and waiting for the usual stragglers. Bert had been bragging how he had just missed the cut for the Fear Factor TV competition by a mouthful of rat even after he’d successfully downed blenderized raw fish! While the other fellows commiserated, the females just let out a collective “Ewwww”! All the females that is, except for Grang — a post-war refugee  from Viet Nam. 

 

She whispered in my ear, “You want me tell you how cook rat?” Her eyes then searched my face for an answer.

 

“Sure, Grang, tell us how to cook rat,”  I replied then sat back and watched the faces of the others raster through a myriad of expressions: amusement, incredulity, realization, sympathy, and finally curiosity. 

 

Grang quickly glanced around the table, then back with uncertainly so I nodded and gestured for her to begin. She spoke hesitantly at first and then gained confidence as she, and we were transported through the process.

 

“If there is a choice, it is better to trap rats in the field as almost always, when their stomachs are opened, they are found full of grain and plant seed and their meat is more nutritious and less likely to be diseased or parasite laden. Unlike rabbits, the skin of the rat adheres tightly to the muscle. The best way to remove hair and skin is to build a small fire of straw or dried grass and lay the body directly on it, turning rapidly until all the hair is singed. That will also loosen the skin from the meat so it peels off easily once the head, legs and tail have been removed.”

 

“Dress the carcass by carefully removing the entrails and then splitting it much as one would split a chicken. The meat and bones are then hacked cross-wise into chunks, and the pieces placed in a container to be well mixed with coarse salt, garlic, onion, curry powder and lemon grass. Allow them to remain so for an hour or more, being careful to stir periodically to make sure all the pieces are well covered.”

 

“When following that method, it is unnecessary to wash the meat if it has been carefully wiped with a damp cloth before hacking into chunks. The meat can then be pan fried or grilled.”

 

“Another recipe is to put chunks into a pot, cover them with coconut milk and water, add dry mushrooms or other vegetable material that may be available as well as desired seasonings, then simmering until tender. If noodles are added, do so towards the end of the cooking time or serve with rice. Almost any recipe for chicken or other game works well. It is just a matter of getting the meat while still fresh. A live trap is best to use as the animal can be kept alive until meal preparation.”

 

***

 

I opened the storage shed then paused a moment and stared at the shelf before pulling down the smaller of the two cage-traps….

 

Bird flu had spread so rapidly it caught most of us off-guard. We were secure for the time being, as yet un-pillaged by our neighbors. Still, the food stocks are dwindling and soon they would be gone. There was no sign that services would soon resume; hundreds were sick and many more are dead. The entire infrastructure had been disrupted; no deliveries were being made because no one was willing to take the risk — everyone was too frightened to leave home,  to make contact with others.  We were all hunkered low. When the grid failed it was not sabotage, just desertion from duty … predictable under the circumstances.

 

So now, it is time to test my skills. 

 

 

~Pollygraph

BlueStocking and History

I’ve been doing quite a bit of research into the Blue Stocking society in order to write a short story about them. But I’ve found that this project has really taken on massive proportions for me. It’s no longer a short story but seems as if it could be a novel. So I’m excited about that. And at the same time, I’m sorry I’m not able to share what I’ve written so far. I’ve realized that in order to understand the significance of The Society, a person needs to understand the historical atmosphere they lived in. It was a time of social upheaval. I’m very interested in it, and I see many parallels to today’s society. I had really hoped to share a short story with all of you on this first meeting, but as I’ve mentioned, it is a work in progress. I highly recommend, to anyone interested in history, the period of time that the Society began is worthy of an in depth study.
-Literary Bohemian

Bluestocking Society #1 — 26.01.07

Greetings! Welcome to the first official meeting of the Bluestocking Society. Thank you for Anita Marie for the concept and to Ninjacat for this week’s topic.

So, here it is:

“Who the Blue Stocking Society was in the past and who we are today. Share your writing, art and your voice about this amazing society.”

You can add your comments below OR you can add a whole new post and categorize it as Blue Stocking Society/BS 26.01.07

If you would like to be added to the Taverna, please let me know.

Lori

Table 42 and3/4: scribbling on a coaster.

I am alone.

Unto the very core of my being,

Down to the marrow in the bone,

And I have known it,

Heard it in the wind,

Felt the ghastly moan

Of being cut off,

Cut out;

Age four – I saw

The chasm and the caverns

Deep below;

You would have thought

I could at least consort

With other ghosts –

There were none there

And if they were they hid

In shadows, spectres still;

So this is why I know

It cannot change,

Or ever will.

There is a path where trees and flowers

Form bowers of solitude

For lovers, friends, companions;

I don’t go there,

I do not know the way

And would be shunned;

Invisible:

Since age of four

Who locked the door

To make me live this way?

Alone – from being a child,

For all my life – lost

Searching for a key, an opening;

I am far inside myself,

Apart – beyond the reach

Of fingertips

Or outstretched arms:

Today is yesterday.

Jan