“Sometimes, we just have to start over.  Often, we must begin – again.  Every now-and-then we stretch a little further, push a little harder, delve a little deeper. It’s what makes us, better.  When we’re better we’re stronger, though perhaps exhausted.  When we’re better we smile wider, sigh lighter and laugh heartier.  When we’re better, we say ‘hello’ to the unexpected.  When we greet the unexpected, we encounter wonder.  Hello, Better.”
{2 Corinthians 3:18}     
D. G. D.
Custom Labels from my Etsy shop, the Heart of Wonder. {to visit click image}

Entry No. 66

Lynn’s Honey Cake

IMG_1920So, once the 4th of July has come and gone, it only takes a few days, my thing for Summer fades fast and I’m peeking around the corner trying to catch even the tiniest glimpse of Autumn.  I know we need Summer, the sunshine to snag a tan, the heat to bring crops to harvest – I just so prefer cooler weather.  Were it not for its purpose, I could skip Summer altogether.

Anyway, it’s been years since I’ve baked this cake.  It’s a favorite in my family, one my mother made popular with a recipe she found on a cake mix box thirty years ago and tweaked to make it her own. So, I turned on the oven three days after the 4th, tied aprons on my girls and myself and made some memories.  This one’s not so bad to bake at the peak of summer as the oven’s moderately cool at 325.  It wasn’t long till my oldest daughter caught a whiff of warm cinnamon and honey scented air with a hint of coffee wafting to her upstairs bedroom.  I heard her footsteps descending the flight moments later, “Oh, Mommy. It smells like Fall!”  Ah, yes.

IMG_1664My mom’s recipe has since been morphed into muffins occasionally, by my cousins in New York, I tried cupcakes too with Mascarpone frosting. Still, I prefer the original loaf my mom always served though – sliced, warm and spread heavily with whipped cream cheese.  This cake stores best wrapped in plastic wrap, then zipped in a zip-locked bag on the counter for a few days.  It makes for an Autumn-scented home and breakfast with tea and coffee each morning till it’s gone.

Lynn’s Honey Cake


1 Package of Pound Cake Mix {I used the Betty Crocker one}

2 Tsp Instant Coffee

1 Tsp Cinnamon

1/2 Tsp Allspice

1/2 Tsp Nutmeg

1/2 Cup Honey

2 Tbsp Shortening

2 Tbsp Oil {canola or vegetable)

4 Eggs


Heat oven to 325 and grease an oblong loaf pan, the usual 13″ x 3″ size is fine.  In a mixer bowl, combine all ingredients and beat until fluffy.  Scrape down the bowl to make sure you’ve incorporated everything and pour into the baking pan.  Start testing the cake at around 40 minutes.  It’s very important not to over-bake this one to keep it from drying out. The bake time can range up to 50 minutes. Slice and serve warm with cream cheese and a drizzle of honey.


Entry No. 65

The Darkest Sunlight

My home is quiet but for the clicking of keys and occasional clink of my teacup returning to rest on my nightstand. Again, I begin typing, dragging my thoughts back to reality caveman-style, having gently sipped the deep, dark brew of other lands, which I happen to prefer hot – hot like the center of the sun.

Screen Shot 2016-07-19 at 8.51.04 AMAnd this, this is where writing stories is so bittersweet. I expect few to understand. Journeying the deep of an imagination so vivid it’s nearly tangible, then having to leave, come back and write it all down and…. You see, this is why the tea always, always must be hot.

People wonder why writers are often such reclusive creatures. It’s usually on purpose – so we don’t frighten the few who innocently, or bravely, dare try us on a day-to-day basis, away. Not many can relish for long, the intensity of a mind that involuntarily sees a story come alive in anything its gaze happens upon.  Nor once we’ve sailed that vast ocean and truly seen it, grasp the agony of holding an untold story inside of us.

And what, pray-tell with the conversations writers hold daily with people who do not exist, in a time to come from what never was… No, no we don’t talk to ourselves. Rather, we converse regularly with the people we’ve created from nothing. It’s a wonder we’re sane.

And so the tea is searing hot, to remind the senses of what is real between pages, so a reader can someday take a journey and for a moment, forget altogether. Because really, any story that leaves one feeling anything less than an urge to crawl inside a book’s pages and live there, forever, was never a story at all.

Ever stop and wonder how they do it, that thing? Where you find bits of yourself woven in a tale, as if mistakenly left there, by an author you’ve never met?  People don’t realize, but that’s what they’re really saying you know, when they mention a book they “simply cannot put down.” What they mean to convey is, “I’ve read untold parts of my soul.”

Screen Shot 2016-07-19 at 8.49.15 AMFancy often, the inner workings of a writer’s mind; how they navigate that beautifully bright, yet morbid and twisted labyrinth so you can see heaven, taste earth and smell hell all in a chapter from your living room? It’s truly the darkest sunlight.

Pondered much the goings-on, the internal habits of those peculiar ones who smile, say little, are caught studying you; then plunk words on paper in such a way to either make your nerves curl, spirit soar or heart shatter from shock barely a moment later?  Perchance, it’s best left a mystery, a gift for the ones who always question if we’re writing about them and should perhaps behave better.

Alas, I beg you ponder, next instant a writer leaves you breathless, wanting more, you know “it’s two in the morning…just one more chapter.” Consider perhaps we too, didn’t want to come back but did anyway, just for you. Hence we write, to taste life twice. To relive, add a pulse and shock to breathing, the things we see in untold places for the waning imagination of many.

It’s there we’ll hide, in the tangible shadow of the shining story, created from the realest nothing ever known. Then slip away unnoticed but for an occasional curious glance beyond its pages. And just what telling it all was really like, we rarely share with so very few…  Time to sip the tea again.

#writing #oceaninaraindrop #thedarkestsunlight

Entry No. 64

Screen Shot 2016-07-18 at 9.05.10 AM

Stuck in traffic and caught a glimpse of this steeple on the hill. All the cars lined up, passing by. Saw this in my rear-view and couldn’t help but think they should be lined up at our churches, looking for Jesus like this.

Supposedly hindsight’s 20/20…

What are we missing?

#whowillreachthem #traffic #jesus