Creole cod fillets
133 calories, 7 grams carbohydrates, 24 grams
protein and 1 gram fat per serving.
2 lbs. cod fillets
2 tbsp. instant-type flour
1 small onion, sliced
1 16 oz. can tomatoes
1 pimiento, chopped
1 bay leaf
1/4 tsp. monosodium glutamate
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. oregano
dash of pepper
If fish is frozen, allow to thaw. Cut into
serving pieces and put in shallow 2 quart
baking dish. Mix remaining ingredients
and pour over top and bake in 350 degree oven
for about 1 hour. Serves 6.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Christian Poem
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
What can the meaning of these things be?
Tiniest buds and leaflets green--
Who shall tell me what these things mean?
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Much I guess they were meant for me!
Tsu-ert!
Tsu-ert!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
So I shall eat them up you see
Somebody, somewhere, is kindly stirred
To think of me, a poor, brown bird!--
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Somebody, somewhere, thinks of me!
Tsu-ert!
Tsu-ert!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
"A gentle lady?"--and can it be?--
Say it again, 'tis a pleasant word,
Thinking of me, your poor, brown bird!--
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Bless the lady that thinks of me
Tsu-ert!
Tsu-ert!
Tschee: tschee! tschee!
So I shall eat them up, you see!
Hi, a nip here! and ho, a nip there!
Bless me, mistress, how sweet they are!
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Bless the lady who thinks of me!
Tsu-ert!
Tsu-ert!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Merrily, merrily, let it be!--
Hi, a nip here! and ho, a nip there!
Over, under, everywhere!
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Somebody, somewhere, thinks of me! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
What can the meaning of these things be?
Tiniest buds and leaflets green--
Who shall tell me what these things mean?
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Much I guess they were meant for me!
Tsu-ert!
Tsu-ert!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
So I shall eat them up you see
Somebody, somewhere, is kindly stirred
To think of me, a poor, brown bird!--
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Somebody, somewhere, thinks of me!
Tsu-ert!
Tsu-ert!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
"A gentle lady?"--and can it be?--
Say it again, 'tis a pleasant word,
Thinking of me, your poor, brown bird!--
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Bless the lady that thinks of me
Tsu-ert!
Tsu-ert!
Tschee: tschee! tschee!
So I shall eat them up, you see!
Hi, a nip here! and ho, a nip there!
Bless me, mistress, how sweet they are!
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Bless the lady who thinks of me!
Tsu-ert!
Tsu-ert!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Merrily, merrily, let it be!--
Hi, a nip here! and ho, a nip there!
Over, under, everywhere!
Merrily!
Merrily!
Tschee! tschee! tschee!
Somebody, somewhere, thinks of me! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Joke of the Day
A blonde decides to try horseback riding, even though she has had no lessons or prior experience. She mounts the horse, unassisted, and the horse immediately springs into motion. It gallops along at a steady and rhythmic pace, but the blonde begins to slip from the saddle.
In terror, she grabs for the horse's mane, but cannot seem to get a firm grip. She tries to throw her arms around the horse's neck, but she slides down the side of the horse anyway. The horse gallops along, seemingly impervious to its slipping rider.
Finally, giving up her frail grip, the blonde attempts to leap away from the horse and throw herself to safety.
Unfortunately, her foot has become entangled in the stirrup, she is now at the mercy of the horse's pounding hooves as her head is struck against the ground over and over.
As her head is battered against the ground, she is mere moments away from unconsciousness when to her great fortune, Stan, the Wal-Mart greeter, sees her and unplugs the horse.
In terror, she grabs for the horse's mane, but cannot seem to get a firm grip. She tries to throw her arms around the horse's neck, but she slides down the side of the horse anyway. The horse gallops along, seemingly impervious to its slipping rider.
Finally, giving up her frail grip, the blonde attempts to leap away from the horse and throw herself to safety.
Unfortunately, her foot has become entangled in the stirrup, she is now at the mercy of the horse's pounding hooves as her head is struck against the ground over and over.
As her head is battered against the ground, she is mere moments away from unconsciousness when to her great fortune, Stan, the Wal-Mart greeter, sees her and unplugs the horse.
Word of the Day
"Pray without ceasing" (I. Thess. 5: 17).
An important help in the life of prayer is the habit of bringing everything to God, moment by moment, as it comes to us in life. This may be established as a habit on the principle on which all habits are formed, of repeated and constant attention, moment by moment, until that which is at first an act of will, becomes spontaneous and second nature.
If we will watch our lives we shall find that God meets the things that we commit to Him in prayer with special blessing, and often allows the best things that we have not committed to Him to be ineffectual, simply to remind us of our dependence upon Him for everything. It is very gracious and mindful of Him thus gently to compel us to remember Him and to hold us so close to Him that we cannot get away even the length of a single minute from His all-sustaining arm. "In everything ... let our requests be made known unto God."
Let us bring our least petitions,
Like the incense beaten small,
All our cares, complaints, conditions
Jesus loves to bear them all.
An important help in the life of prayer is the habit of bringing everything to God, moment by moment, as it comes to us in life. This may be established as a habit on the principle on which all habits are formed, of repeated and constant attention, moment by moment, until that which is at first an act of will, becomes spontaneous and second nature.
If we will watch our lives we shall find that God meets the things that we commit to Him in prayer with special blessing, and often allows the best things that we have not committed to Him to be ineffectual, simply to remind us of our dependence upon Him for everything. It is very gracious and mindful of Him thus gently to compel us to remember Him and to hold us so close to Him that we cannot get away even the length of a single minute from His all-sustaining arm. "In everything ... let our requests be made known unto God."
Let us bring our least petitions,
Like the incense beaten small,
All our cares, complaints, conditions
Jesus loves to bear them all.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Christian Poem
"Dr. Reid, a traveller through the highlands of Peru, is said to have found in the desert of Alcoama the dried remains of an assemblage of human beings, five or six hundred in number, men, women, and children, seated in a semicircle as when alive, staring into the burning waste before them. It would seem that, knowing the Spanish invaders were at hand, they had come hither with a fixed intention to die. They sat immoveable in that dreary desert, dried like mummies by the hot air, still sitting as if in solemn council, while over that Areopagus silence broods everlastingly."
With dull and lurid skies above,
And burning wastes around,
A lonely traveller journeyed on
Through solitudes profound;
No wandering bird's adventurous wing
Paused o'er that cheerless waste,
No tree across those dreary sands
A welcome shadow cast.
With scorching, pestilential breath
The desert-blast swept by,
And with a fierce, relentless glare
The sun looked from on high;
Yet onward still, though worn with toil,
The eager wand'rer pressed,
While hope lit up his dauntless eye,
And nerved his fainting breast.
Why paused he in his onward course?--
Why held his shuddering breath?--
Why gazed he with bewildered eye,
As on the face of death?
Before him sat in stern array,
All hushed as if in dread,
Yet still, and passionless, and calm,
A concourse of the dead!
Across the burning waste they stared
With glazed and stony eye,
As if strange fear had fixed erewhile
Their gaze on vacancy;
And woe and dread on every brow
In changeless lines were wrought,--
Sad traces of the anguish deep
That filled their latest thought!
They seemed a race of other time,
O'er whom the desert's blast,
For many a long and weary age,
In fiery wrath had passed;
Till, scathed and dry, each wasted form
Its rigid aspect wore,
Unchanged, though centuries had passed
The lonely desert o'er.
Was it the clash of foreign arms--
Was it the invader's tread,--
From which this simple-minded race
In wildest terror fled,--
Choosing, amid the desert-sands,
Scorched by the desert's breath,
Rather than by the invaders' steel,
To meet the stroke of death?
And there they died--a free-born race--
From their proud hills away,
While round them in its lonely pride
The far, free desert lay
And there, unburied, still they sit,
All statute like and cold,
Free, e'en in death, though o'er their homes
Oppression's tide has rolled! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
With dull and lurid skies above,
And burning wastes around,
A lonely traveller journeyed on
Through solitudes profound;
No wandering bird's adventurous wing
Paused o'er that cheerless waste,
No tree across those dreary sands
A welcome shadow cast.
With scorching, pestilential breath
The desert-blast swept by,
And with a fierce, relentless glare
The sun looked from on high;
Yet onward still, though worn with toil,
The eager wand'rer pressed,
While hope lit up his dauntless eye,
And nerved his fainting breast.
Why paused he in his onward course?--
Why held his shuddering breath?--
Why gazed he with bewildered eye,
As on the face of death?
Before him sat in stern array,
All hushed as if in dread,
Yet still, and passionless, and calm,
A concourse of the dead!
Across the burning waste they stared
With glazed and stony eye,
As if strange fear had fixed erewhile
Their gaze on vacancy;
And woe and dread on every brow
In changeless lines were wrought,--
Sad traces of the anguish deep
That filled their latest thought!
They seemed a race of other time,
O'er whom the desert's blast,
For many a long and weary age,
In fiery wrath had passed;
Till, scathed and dry, each wasted form
Its rigid aspect wore,
Unchanged, though centuries had passed
The lonely desert o'er.
Was it the clash of foreign arms--
Was it the invader's tread,--
From which this simple-minded race
In wildest terror fled,--
Choosing, amid the desert-sands,
Scorched by the desert's breath,
Rather than by the invaders' steel,
To meet the stroke of death?
And there they died--a free-born race--
From their proud hills away,
While round them in its lonely pride
The far, free desert lay
And there, unburied, still they sit,
All statute like and cold,
Free, e'en in death, though o'er their homes
Oppression's tide has rolled! - Mrs. J. C. Yule
Recipe of the day
Steak durango
1 large sirloin
1/4 lb. butter or margarine
1/2 cup red wine
1 tbsp msg powder
1 tbsp worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp. chili powder
1 tbsp. garlic salt
juice of lemon
salt and pepper
Melt butter and mix in all the other
ingredients except the steak. When well
blended place the steak in a shallow pan
and coat both sides with sauce. Allow to
marinate for 1 hour. Broil to taste. During
broiling which should be slow, baste with
the marinade several times.
1 large sirloin
1/4 lb. butter or margarine
1/2 cup red wine
1 tbsp msg powder
1 tbsp worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp. chili powder
1 tbsp. garlic salt
juice of lemon
salt and pepper
Melt butter and mix in all the other
ingredients except the steak. When well
blended place the steak in a shallow pan
and coat both sides with sauce. Allow to
marinate for 1 hour. Broil to taste. During
broiling which should be slow, baste with
the marinade several times.
Joke of the Day
A Blonde calls 911 on her cell phone to report that her car has been broken into. She is hysterical as she explains her situation to the dispatcher: "They've stolen the stereo, the steering wheel, the brake pedal and even the accelerator!" she cries.
The dispatcher says, "Stay calm. An officer is on the way."
A few minutes later, the officer radios in. "Disregard." he says. "She got in the back-seat by mistake."
The dispatcher says, "Stay calm. An officer is on the way."
A few minutes later, the officer radios in. "Disregard." he says. "She got in the back-seat by mistake."
Word of the Day
"Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of" (Luke 9: 55).
Some one has said that the most spiritual people are the easiest to get along with. When one has a little of the Holy Ghost it is like "a little learning, a dangerous thing"; but a full baptism of the Holy Spirit, and a really disciplined, stablished and tested spiritual life, makes one simple, tender, tolerant, considerate of others, and like a little child.
James and John, in their early zeal, wanted to call down fire from heaven on the Samaritans. But John, the aged, allowed Demetrius to exclude him from the church, and suffered in Patmos for the kingdom and with the patience of Jesus. And aged Paul was willing to take back even Mark, whom he had refused as a companion in his early ministry, and to acknowledge that he was profitable to him for the ministry.
I want the love that cannot help but love;
Loving, like God, for very sake of love.
A spring so full that it must overflow,
A fountain flowing from the throne above.
"Now abideth faith, hope, love; but the greatest of these is love."
Some one has said that the most spiritual people are the easiest to get along with. When one has a little of the Holy Ghost it is like "a little learning, a dangerous thing"; but a full baptism of the Holy Spirit, and a really disciplined, stablished and tested spiritual life, makes one simple, tender, tolerant, considerate of others, and like a little child.
James and John, in their early zeal, wanted to call down fire from heaven on the Samaritans. But John, the aged, allowed Demetrius to exclude him from the church, and suffered in Patmos for the kingdom and with the patience of Jesus. And aged Paul was willing to take back even Mark, whom he had refused as a companion in his early ministry, and to acknowledge that he was profitable to him for the ministry.
I want the love that cannot help but love;
Loving, like God, for very sake of love.
A spring so full that it must overflow,
A fountain flowing from the throne above.
"Now abideth faith, hope, love; but the greatest of these is love."
Thursday, August 19, 2010
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