Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

It’s about that time again: when I realize that summer vacation is here and whatever meager seconds I’ve had for blogging have already been claimed.

I’ve been at this WordPress gig for five years, officially so on June 24th. Happy Blogiversary to me and all that. I recall my trepidation at its opening: Would anyone read what I wrote? WHY WON’T ANYONE READ WHAT I WROTE? If I start now, by what point will I have a book contract? How can I finagle rights to the script and choice of actors so they don’t pick Hayden Christensen?!

Clearly, I’ve yet to write my book.

But I’ve made friends (thank you!).

I’ve lost friends.

The world turned weird during a pandemic and during a heated election.

I’ve popped out two more children, admitted to being LDS and even wrote about it, and …have lost the joy I used to feel for blogging.

So, for now, we’ll call this au revoir. Knowing me, I’ll be back. Ish. Thank you for reading. I can sincerely say I love you all.

Photo by alleksana on Pexels.com

Write something amazing while I’m gone, and don’t be afraid to share it.

—–

©2022 Chel Owens

And, go listen to “Ted and Trudy,” performed by Matt. Thanks, man.

I’m a Mormon, So…

I’m a Mormon, so I am NOT a polygamist.

Joesph F. Smith, a former President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and his family. ©pbs.org

Today, the practice of polygamy is strictly prohibited in the Church, as it has been for over a century. Polygamy — or more correctly polygyny, the marriage of more than one woman to the same man — was a part of the teachings of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for a half-century. The practice began during the lifetime of Joseph Smith but became publicly and widely known during the time of Brigham Young.

LDS Newsroom

Joseph Smith received revelation regarding plural marriage in 1831. He instated the practice privately; only those given permission or commandment to marry two or more women did so. Brigham Young‘s rather public, sizeable family drew attention to this peculiar tenet.

Even at that time, most men participating in a plural marriage only had two wives (LDS Study Manual, “Plural Marriage and Families in Early Utah”). ‘Twas a unique practice, still, given that.

But, Latter-day Saints haven’t been polygamists for a really long time now.

In 1890, the Lord inspired Church President Wilford Woodruff to issue a statement that led to the end of the practice of plural marriage in the Church. In this statement, known as the Manifesto, President Woodruff declared his intention to abide by U.S. law forbidding plural marriage and to use his influence to convince members of the Church to do likewise.

LDS Study Manual

There are pockets of peoples still practicing plural marriage; none do so as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints since “any person who practices plural marriage cannot become or remain a member of the Church” (LDS Study Manual). They’re splinter groups who formed awhile ago.*

Pretty much what these groups dress and groom like. You see them around border towns and at Costcos now and then. ©Route-Fifty

©2022 Chel Owens

*If you’re looking to understand the polygamist way of life, I recommend reading Love Times Three, by (ish) Joe Darger, Alina Darger, Vicki Darger, Valerie Darger; but mostly Brooke Adams who edited everyone’s words.

……

We Mormons are officially members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and are to drop any name but that. Since many recognize the nickname of ‘Mormon’ and it works with the alliteration so well, however, I will use the term.

My other note is that I will keep to official doctrinal practices. I will add my own application of them, especially in response to comments.

My final note is that I LOVE discussing anything I write. Don’t be rude, obviously, but any and all queries or responses are welcome.

My final note beyond the final note is that I do not seek to convert anyone. I am motivated by forming connections, answering curiosity, and straightening pictures. So, you’re safe.

WINNER of the Terrible Poetry Contest 6/9/2022

Not Pam placed first last time we poem-ed and challenged entrants to write a sonnet about soup. At long last, let’s see who served up the winning poem:

SOUP DU JOUR

by M

Vichyssoise is the soup du jour today
cranberry, pineapple, pine nuts and peas
potato and leaks and cream take-away
thats not soup, that is garbige if you please

mushrooms,more mushrooms, more mushrooms for me
withsome cream and salt and pepper to taste
cant forgot the crootons and sharp, cheese
seriously kid that sounds, like; such a waste

you have yours and I have mind now shove off
fighting words to, me just you weight and see
oh yeah? PUNCH to the gut I, make you cough
peas, leeks, ghee dumped! In your bowl with great glee.

I hate you grandma with all of my heart!
Oh billy, just eat your damned soup which you know in your heart will give you incredibly stinky smelly nasty mushroom farty farts. Kids, today.

—–

Congratulations, Matt! You are the most terrible poet! I’ll be contacting you about your grand prize!

As usual, the poets in this kitchen were too clever to be terrible. Of those who served a questionable bowl, judging the best recipe proved difficult. M’s won for his cringe-worthy misspells, his “mushrooms, more mushrooms, more mushrooms” bit, and for that truly terrible final line.

The rest of the menu’s worth perusing, although I’d leave your appetite for dessert:

A soup of a sonnet

by Bruce Goodman

This soup tastes like you got it out of a can
And by “can” I don’t mean like Andy Warhol painted.
This soup should come under a ban.
I just about fainted.

Has anyone ever told you that you can’t cook?
So not only are you fat and ugly you are also a fake.
Some faults are possible to overlook,
But your soup-making incompetence takes the cake.

One sip of this undesirable brew
And I was under the table in the throes of death.
If I was Johnny Depp I would sue;
The smell is enough to make me hold my breath.

And yet you claim soup-making to be your forte.
If you’re going to cook stuffed cow’s udder stick to sauté.

—–

Here is mine in eight lines. The title is In my Bowl

by John W. Howell

Shall I compare you to a summer’s day,
or sit guessing as to your content way.
The window to your soul so darkly kept,
A hint of substance will stay hidden yet.
To dip a careful spoon below the scum,
May help unmask a hint of nature done.
To all who wonder what happened next,
The spoon was eaten by an unknown beast.

—–

Scottish Soup: A Sonnet

by Ruth

My Scottish senses love the cooking smell
Of soup that starts with deeply smoked ham hock
Boiled up with split red lentils, seasoned well
Traditional good food from fresh-made stock

Or leek and tatties make the perfect base
With chicken bouillon, carrots, onions too
Add herbs and salt and pepper judged to taste
A little milk to finish – that’ll do!

Pearl barley thickens broth like fattened rice
With cheap-cut beef and root veg simmered low
Soup fills you up at such a decent price
Well-blended flavours make your tastebuds glow

A bowl of love with thick-sliced bread to eat
Now that’s a hearty dinner hard to beat ♥

—–

Silly Soup

by Frank Hubeny

Today I fear they’ll feed me silly soup
to help my nightmares scare up some disease.
With windows open breathing summer’s breeze
I dream the ground is dizzy, in a loop.
I dream of ropes and jumping through a hoop.
I’m doing more or less just as I please.
My nose as well’s deciding should it sneeze.
While waiting in the chair I start to droop.

The soup contains assorted sorts of beans,
some once-white rice and onions, too, I guess.
There’s stuff in it I can’t identify
to add some color to the grassy greens.
I spilled the soup. Oh, my. I made a mess.
I’m force fed now with silly soup. Goodbye.

—–

Untitled

by Richmond Road

Soup – a bit like food
A bit of a waste
Like dressing up in the nude
It’s lacking in taste
Broth – a bit like a meal
But from food an estrangement
Nothing to feel
But a rearrangement
Of nutrition
And now that you’ve looked
A suspicion
It’s a bit undercooked
So much less than a stew
When there’s nothing to chew.

—–

Cravings

by Not Pam

My thoughts turn as the winter’s chill descends
To mushroom soup, on what joy it does bring
It is lush, it is rich, it makes amends
Just thinking about it makes my heart sing

Into the kitchen I merrily go
Thrilling a sing to cull my appetite
To search my cupboard but what do you know
There isn’t any mushrooms, oh what a blight

To venture out, and join the endless queue
The idea certainly doesn’t appeal
Perhaps another flavour soup will do
Wait, what about asparagus and veal

Bother, its only mushroom soup I crave
I’m going to bed, stomach just behave.

—–

Untitled

by Simon

There was a ship named Tilly
Rumour was spread around town Kelly
The gore news tightened their Belly
A ghost from Kelly sells soup in Tilly

Wonder What is so silly about a soup?
Whoever sells the soup it’s a coup
Free marketing, let’s buy a Scoop
Said the man in blazers named snoop

It’s a religious town people are scared
No man gets in the ship to stay sacred
For the people, I’ll go alone. He dared.
People stared, he glared, he cared.

Dared, he ordered a soup named Silly
Waiting for order is not so long. Chilly
Was the soup commented by Billy
He was the protector of town Kelly

What is so gore about it? That rumour?
Billy said, the soup menu is a Humour
Eat your own tongue, stay Calmer
Just the name of the soup, is that Rumour.

Think it sounds silly?
Why don’t you Visit Tilly
Read review from Billy
Fill your belly.

—–

The Naming of Soups

by TanGental

There’s a type of soup called Vichyssoise

Sounding posher than mulligatawny,

Hinting perhaps of a little French class

With a touch of something porny.

That’s how it is with those old soup names,

They’re weird and a little bit freaky:

There’s one that recalls this old man’s shame

When it speaks of his cock-a-leekie.

And, truth be told, I’ve sampled broths

That are nearer piss than porridge

As well as ones that stop all coughs

Even though they’re downright horrid.

Let’s cut the crap; no more this soupish snobbery

Accept the truth: both yours and mine’s a strone.

—–

Soup Kitchen

by Obbverse

The joy of mash and chicken soup-
Won’t that warm my dark cold soul!
‘Yes’m, soggy spuds, gimme a scoop,
Slop up my plate and fill that bowl.’

‘Look lady, I come here for the food,
Your sole job is just to fill my cup-
Say, Sister, you can call me drunk’n’rude
But if you just prayed for me, back it up.’

‘You see another broken down bum
But I see a Miss priss with a ladle,
I’ll say ‘thanks’ but I don’t welcome
Your airs and graces at my table.’

‘I’ll take your free tray and gladly eat it
But spare me mealy words- now beat it.’

—–

What is Soup?

by Greg

The sorcerer’s mirepoix, the witches roux,
with bone and water forge a mystic blend,
add salt and spice, merely a pinch or two,
elements together, combine, transcend.

Cast iron cauldron yields to fiery kiss,
stir and simmer, cooking slowly in time,
bubbling, boiling, with wisps of steaming bliss,
filling the fragrant air with spells sublime.

Chick’n noodle, chowder, gazpacho on ice,
mullugatawny, bisque and gumbo too,
potatoes, pasta, or a spot of rice,
some so thick they’re more akin to stew.

What is soup? You’ll find you have to conclude,
soup is the liquid version of solid food.

—–

Untitled

by Shauni-Michelle Chadburn

Mushroom recipe, for total catastrophe, lockdown curiosity turned into insanity. A Hallucination interpretation with a twisted sense of humour, exploitation an observation a naieve, unsuspecting consumer. Not a substantial bliss, psychosis a diagnosis that’s ferocious, somewhat precocious totally atrocious like being inflicted with some hellish hypnosis. Digesting the fungi when did the fun die, out in the garden it grows, or in the haystacks it’s time I face facts this was not how it was supposed to go! Totally mad, slightly insane, revisiting and reliving all the emotional pain, it is trauma it has engrained, it would have been safer to, do, cocaine.

—–

Soup

by Richmond Road

that I scoop out of the entrails of our love
the little bits of pre-digested nourishment
that fall like manna from above
our love that travelled the universe like a comet
with all the colours of a parrot
oh, wait. that’s vomit
and I think I see a bit of carrot
floating around in there
somewhere
with the noodles and oodles of emotion
I have the notion
to express
like milk from the breast
all the best, to us
with love
Brutus

—–

Ode to a hammock (sorry) ham hock

by Doug Jacquier

Oh, soup of green split pea and ham

(no, never, thrice never to Spam)

shall I compare thee to a cabernet,
cellared long in boiling heat in the loading bay?

Do I dare take a sup

from the pig-leg supping cup (or the ladle)
after gorging full well of peach melba
on a rolled-up ragged-trousered beach?

Or should I await the tourist bus

filled with them (and not with us)

disgorging ag-ed crones of Japanese

desperate for their afternoon peas?

Nay, fie, upon the soup-less have-nots!
I will gluttonise the whole damn lot

and leave them gasping in my tomorrow’s wind.

—–

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

Thank you, everyone! It’s been a blast for me; I hope you’ve had fun as well.

M: Here’s your badge you can post as proof of your poetic mastery. You’ve got quite the collection now:

terrible-poetry-contest

©2022 The poets, and their respective poems.

Work; Work All Day

If you don’t count babysitting, a paper route, or finding pairs in the Lost Socks bin; my first job was working for a chiropractor.

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

This chiropractor did more than crack your back. His specialty lay in understanding the body’s energy fields (chi). An appointment involved some straightening of spinal fixtures, sure; but also his holding one point whilst stretching another. Our office sold supplements and copper bracelets. We encouraged eschewing Western Medicine and embracing acupuncture.

I began the job as a front desk receptionist, but everyone quickly realized I did better as a paper-sorter and inventory-labeler than I did as the face of the company. Then, there was the small matter of my prioritizing my Track and Field participation over working. Annnnd, I may have gotten less productive and more makey-outy whilst dating Kevin. (I was sixteen.)

Still, such was my start in the professional world. I didn’t know anything about a chiropractor before then. All I knew was I didn’t want to work in the grocery store as a bagger nor in a restaurant/fast food place as an underappreciated slave.

Besides teaching me about the other half of health and medicine, I learned job skills, where all of one’s paycheck goes, and that one classification of job could be different depending on where you work. I learned what sort of employee I was. I figured out what tasks I enjoyed (fixing the toilet and filing) and which I did not (answering phones and caring for patients who were in pain).

Photo by Michael Wysmierski on Pexels.com

Your first job sticks with you. It’s your first love, used as a measure for the next one; remembered more fondly than it was in the moment.

What was your first job? About how old were you? Did you continue in that field? As a bonus: if someone had asked you then, what would you have said would be your ultimate dream job?

—–

Aaaand, here are the things I wrote since last noting the things I wrote:
Wednesday, June 1: Admitted to an old crush for France.

Friday, June 3: Snapped a Friday Photo of some economically-priced seafood.

Saturday, June 4: Oh, man. This sonnet on soup (sort-of) was the best poem ever!

PLEASE ENTER THE FINAL TERRIBLE POETRY CONTEST! I’ll be reading and posting the winner(s) soon! The winner gets a prize in the mail!

Sunday, June 5: Quoted Nicolas Chamfort about laughing each day.

Monday, June 6ish: Mormon Monday: dudes hold the Priesthood, and the Priesthood has a lot of tiers but blessings.

Tuesday, June 7: Answered Carolyn’s prompt. YOU SHOULD ANSWER IT TOO!

©2022 Chel Owens

The Greeeaaat Whiiiiite Chew Toy

I’s once, a great
White beast o’ prey
But now, me fate
Be torpid play

Fare well, Ahab;
See, I’ve no kneed
Fer vengeful rehab
‘Midst carpet seas.

©2022 Chel Owens

©2022 Carolyn Cordon

Written in response to Carolyn Cordon’s fun, new challenge! Join in!

…I am asking, for some kind of creative writing, using the image above, and a random number hmm, lets see, 28.

So further to that, I want a piece of creative writing that is twenty-eight words onlynot more or less, but exactly 28, not including the title. And don’t get clever with the title, by making it a long one, the title must be of 5 words or fewer. It can be poetry or prose.

I’m a Mormon, So…

I’m a Mormon, so I support the men who hold the power to administer the priesthood.

The word priesthood has two meanings. First, priesthood is the power and authority of God. It has always existed and will continue to exist without end (see Alma 13:7–8Doctrine and Covenants 84:17–18). Through the priesthood, God created and governs the heavens and the earth. Through this power, He exalts His obedient children, bringing to pass “the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39; see also Doctrine and Covenants 84:35–38).
Second, in mortality, priesthood is the power and authority that God gives to man to act in all things necessary for the salvation of God’s children. The blessings of the priesthood are available to all who receive the gospel (“Priesthood Authority,” Handbook 2, Administering the Church).

LDS Gospel Topics, “Priesthood

The blessings of the priesthood include vital ordinances like baptizing, conferring the gift of the Holy Ghost, blessing and administering the Sacrament, healing the sick, receiving inspiration and guidance for those whom a member is responsible for (including his or her own family), conducting and participating in temple rituals, and giving Patriarchal Blessings.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints received the priesthood and the ability to use it again when Joseph Smith applied for direction concerning performing ordinances. He was then blessed with the Aaronic Priesthood at the hand of John the Baptist; then the Melchizedek Priesthood at the hands of Peter, James, and John.

As noted, everyone benefits from the priesthood. In terms of receiving the special ability to directly apply priesthood power and authority, that is the sole responsibility of men.

There is a difference between the authority of the priesthood and the power of the priesthood. Priesthood authority comes from ordination. Power comes from personal righteousness.

LDS Gospel Topics, “Priesthood

Beginning in their twelfth year, young men may receive the Aaronic Priesthood and be called to the office of a deacon. At fourteen, they may receive more responsibilities as, and be ordained to the office of, teacher. Then, at sixteen, comes the opportunity to be a priest. The highest available ordination that is considered part of the Aaronic Priesthood is that of bishop, a man called to be the leader of an LDS ward or branch.

An important side note at this point is that all positions in the LDS church come from the membership. We are asked to volunteer in different roles, sometimes ones of authority, to help run the meetings, community events, or activities. Those called to higher leadership roles with more of a time commitment are paid a reasonable stipend for their labors.

Getting back to the Priesthood: the second tier of priesthood authority is referred to as the Melchizedek Priesthood. A man may be set apart as an Elder when he is eighteen. “The offices of the Melchizedek Priesthood are Apostle, Seventy, patriarch, high priest, and elder. The President of the High Priesthood is the President of the Church (see Doctrine and Covenants 107:64–66).” (LDS Gospel Topics, “Melchizedek Priesthood“).

Men in the Church must be worthy Melchizedek Priesthood holders in order to receive the temple endowment and be sealed to their families for eternity. They have the authority to administer to the sick and give special blessings to family members and others. With the authorization of presiding priesthood leaders, they can bestow the gift of the Holy Ghost and ordain other worthy men to offices in the Aaronic and Melchizedek Priesthoods.

LDS Gospel Topics, “Melchizedek Priesthood

Worthiness is essential where the priesthood is concerned, as mentioned in discussing revelation, baptism, and taking the Sacrament. A man may not exercise the priesthood properly if he is not worthy to do so, nor may a recipient of priesthood blessings fully benefit without a measure of faith.

©2022 Chel Owens

……

We Mormons are officially members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and are to drop any name but that. Since many still run with the nickname of ‘Mormon,’ however, I will keep pace.

My other note is that I will keep to official doctrinal practices. I will add my own application of them, especially in response to comments.

My final note is that I LOVE discussing anything I write. Don’t be rude, obviously, but any and all queries or responses are welcome.

My final note beyond the final note is that I do not seek to convert anyone. I ought to, but am motivated by forming connections, answering curiosity, and straightening pictures. So, you’re safe.

Sonnet du Jour, Terrible

In honor of the last Terrible Poetry Contest before summer break, I give you my very best at terrible-ness. Do as I do, or even worse, and you’re guaranteed to win:

Photo by Navada Ra on Pexels.com

I don’t like soup it makes me think of love
Erstwhile torment forsooth magniloquent
Like when my boyfriend made me soup with doves
Pain angst pain angst pain angst I’m eloquent.
I took a steak he cut out from my heart
Or flank -oh, agony! At least the taste
Was better, far, than soup I think in part…
But haste I hates or waste on waist for taste
“You make no sense,” he croons from slurping spoon,
“The dove I caught, the steak a homophone.”
“Alas,” I rage to azure suns, then swoon
At this failed step to feed my sex hormones.
Something symbolic and depressed goes here
And then I rhyme with ‘soup’ and sound unclear.