RIP - Stompin Tom Connors

Yes, the singer of that good old hockey game song and the one about tomatoes from Leamington has passed on to the great stage in the sky.

Stompin Tom was one of a kind; he will be missed, but now he's really been everywhere, man.

Carnage du Jour - 04 March 2013

Pork Tenderloin. That's almost enough to make one hungry, isn't it?

Well, even better than just the words was the actual meal.
The tenderloin was seasoned with Beau Monde, White Pepper, and Nutmeg, then seared in a hot roasting pan with a bit of canola oil.
Out came the meat to wait a bit while a head of shredded purple cabbage was sauteed a bit in that now-flavorful oil, then popped into a 375F oven for 15 or 20 minutes.

The cabbage got a good stir, along with the addition of 1/2 C or so of chicken stock, and the meat was placed on top to roast again for another 15 or 20 minutes. (It may have actually taken a bit longer than that, but not a lot, really.)

Once the pork was done, it was time to serve up with a side of some reheated quinoa, chickpeas, and green peas.

A classic combination, made just that much easier by the roasting of the cabbage, rather than having to stand at the stove, stirring it all the time.

Oh, and it was delicious.

For Grandpa

I wrote this poem on the death of my grandpa, Adiel J. van Becelaere (yep, he had a lower case V until some point in school when the nuns made him capitalize it).
I included it in my novel, A Rune With A View, as a poem written by the protagonist, but it was recently used in a memorial service by some of my friends, so I thought I would share it a bit more widely.

For Grandpa

Suddenly we are without you:
Without your life and laughter.
And yet; we are not less,
The world is not less:
Where, then, is the loss?

Deep within us all,
At the core of each of us,
In the hearts of those you love, and who love you,
There is still your laughter, your life, your light:
Where, then, is the loss?

We weep for ourselves,
For our family and friends who feel a loss;
At times we think we weep for you.
But you are with God, with Christ:
Where, then, is the loss?

What is lost has yet to come:
The beauty and the wonder we'll long to share with you,
The children who'll not hear your laugh, not see your light.
But through our lives, our love, and laughter, they'll know yours:
Where, then, is the loss?

We weep at our pain,
At our bewilderment at your death.
And yet with you, for you, we must rejoice!
You have left pain behind, and fear and longing as well.
Where, then, is the loss?

What is lost is the easy affection we thought would never leave.
What is lost is your smiling face each evening, each morning.
What is lost is myriad things we wouldn't believe could go.
But realizing this much, we realize more:
There is no loss - there is only Love.