Easter Pastry

 By Maryanna Gabriel

Living on an island, one is not privvy to city nicities. Lately, I have been craving a Danish and it being Easter, I decided to bake.

I thought about healing as I worked the dough. I roll the butter into the flour and it takes shape. Wounding is soothed and abrasion is smoothed by several pats and time out in the fridge. 

The rhubarb filling simmers, its pungent scent fills the kitchen with peace, more powerful than anger. I set the syrupy mixture aside to cool.

Staring past the window, I watch a hummingbird. Chaos is an option. I don't have to participate.  

Back to the dough. Fold the butter, roll, turn. The pastry takes time. Roll. Healing takes time. Turn. Dough, butter, dough, butter. Turn. The more layered, the flakier. Abrasion, peace, abrasion, peace. An umbrication.

The Danish and I become one. Dignity. My layers soften. Out of the oven, and oh so divine. 

Always A Thrill

By Maryanna Gabriel 

Wahoo!!

Just made the long list for a story contest!! Honestly, you just can't imagine! Am jumping up and down. It does not matter if I win. It's just so nice to get this far. This has been a story I could not let go of about a woman who kayaks in an attempt to resolve her love life.

It is the Federation of BC Writers literary contest for 2025. Link

https://fbcwcontest.com/2024-long-list/

Exterior Decorating

 By Maryanna Gabriel

Slowly, I have been collecting pieces of slate. With a promising start to the week, I decided I would tackle covering the ugly brick at the base of the greenhouse, ignoring the dread in the pit of my stomach. Starting a job one isn't certain of is always hardest. Once one gets going, I've discovered, it usually works out. 

Reading the directions to the mortar mix, I stirred. Oh, no. Wayyyy too much water. Half the bag went in to thicken the gray soup. Working quickly before it hardened, the problem became the slate not adhering. Heavier pieces on top caused the lower section to collapse. With a sense of urgency, I bent myself into Houdini positions, reworking the stone puzzle. Almost there. With no time to stop for lunch, my new arrangements refused to cooperate. A sharp pain was a warning. Almost finished - just a little more mortar. By midafternoon, standing upright was a shock. The stone work held and, gosh, it looked beautiful. I crawled into the house. Had the pain been worth it?

A trip to town was in order.

"Do you think you could take it easy for a bit?" My chiropractor was attempting reason. Diplomacy with her clients is her strong point.

I love this woman. I swear, without her, I would be dead. My reply was a muffled, "Might try the next wall a year from now." She adjusted the offending vertebrae.

"Good. And use ice."

On the happier side, the rockery has held. It looks like it has always been there. 

oh beauteous wall...