ysabetwordsmith: Damask smiling over their shoulder (polychrome)
[personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
This poem came out of the September 2, 2014 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from [personal profile] lynnoconnacht[personal profile] stardreamer, and [personal profile] helgatwb. It also fills the "curry night" square in my 12-8-13 card for the [community profile] genprompt_bingo  fest.  This poem has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette.  It belongs to the Antimatter & Stalwart Stan thread of my Polychrome Heroics series.

"When Words Are Inadequate"


Stan and Lawrence had their homework
spread all over the coffee table,
two pages of math by each of them,
half a dozen family-support pamphlets
for Stan's social studies paper along with
an interview of a shopkeeper for Lawrence's.

It still felt strange to have company
more often than not -- either they were
at Stan's place or Lawrence's place
but they were usually together.
They got more done that way.

Lawrence didn't know how to articulate
the way it made him feel, just that
it settled something inside him
that used to be so restless.

When Lawrence's mother came home,
he shooed Stan off the couch
so she could sit and watch the news.
Lawrence took her coat and hung it up,
saying, "It's my turn to cook.  I'll start supper."

Of course Stan drifted into the kitchen with him,
having nowhere else to go in the meanwhile,
his tall frame draped against the doorway.

"I know it's your turn to cook, and I 
don't want to be a pest," he said,
"but ... I'm not really comfortable just
standing around watching other people work."

Lawrence remembered the happy bustle
of Stan's home, how his family managed
to cook a whole meal with everyone underfoot.
It was noisy and chaotic and oddly appealing.

"I guess you can help," Lawrence said.  "I'm making
Bengali chicken curry with potatoes, and basmati rice.
I got the recipe from Chatura Pai, so it's authentic,
not Americanized restaurant food."

"Okay," Stan said.  "How'd you get that?
She hardly speaks to me in Home Ec."

Lawrence grinned at him.  "Won it in a bet,"
he said.  "I beat her at a game of chess.
It was that against my recipe for spaghetti sauce,
which she basically thinks is American tomato curry."

"Cool.  What do you want me to do?"
Stan asked, stepping into the kitchen.

"First I need to rinse and soak the rice,"
Lawrence said.  "While I'm doing that,
you can start prepping vegetables for the curry."

"I'll need to see the recipe," Stan said.

Lawrence handed it to him, saying,
"We're doubling the recipe, because
good curry never goes far enough.
Read the ingredients and calculate
the amounts for a double batch."

"I'm gonna screw it up,"
Stan protested.

"You won't screw it up,"
Lawrence promised as he
washed the rice and set it to soak.
"I won't let you.  Now give it a try."

"Two tablespoons of ... um ..."
Stan began, then trailed off.

"That's ghee, or clarified butter,"
Lawrence said without looking. 
"How much for a double batch?"

"Two tablespoons doubled is four,"
Stan said, tracing the line with his finger.

"What is that in cups?"
Lawrence prompted.

"I don't remember," Stan admitted.

"Look it up," Lawrence said, pointing
to a chart on the refrigerator.

"One-quarter cup," Stan read.

"See, you're doing fine," Lawrence said as he
gathered onions, garlic, ginger, and tomatoes
along with cutting boards and knives.
"That's for cooking the onions.  I'll dice those. 
You mince the garlic and ginger."

Stan deftly peeled the garlic
and started mincing it.

Lawrence checked the living room.
His mother had turned on the television
but instead of watching it, she was
rummaging through the stuff
they'd left on the coffee table.
She didn't usually pay much attention
to Lawrence's homework, but at least
she wasn't complaining about it.

Lawrence donned his goggles
and set to work on the onions,
the chef's knife rocking gracefully
under his hands.

Stan was trying to giggle quietly.

"What?" Lawrence said.

"You're wearing part of your costume
in the kitchen?"  Stan whispered.

Lawrence shrugged.  "Where'd you think
I got the idea, anyway?  I had to work with
stuff I already had, or could find easily."
He put the ghee in the pan to heat,
then added the onions.

Stan moved on to mincing the ginger.
"Whatever works for you, I guess."

Lawrence put the rice in the strainer to dry,
then stirred the onions, garlic, and ginger
together in the pan.  "Start dicing the tomatoes,"
he said over his shoulder, and Stan did.

It was harder to figure out what steps
needed to be done in which order and by whom,
but it was a lot easier to make a meal
when he didn't have to do everything himself.

When the tomatoes went into the curry pan,
Lawrence pushed his goggles up,
using the strap to hold his hair back.

"Come here and keep stirring this," he said,
and Stan took over the spoon.

Lawrence heated more ghee in a deep pot,
toasted the rice, then added water, salt,
and lemon juice to start it cooking.

Peeking into the living room,
he saw that his mother had
fallen asleep on the couch.

Lawrence went out to cover her
with the striped blackberry afghan,
noticing that his own books and
Stan's pamphlets had been
put in stacks on the coffee table.
Then Lawrence returned to the kitchen.

Stan was watching him, one hand
still stirring the curry pan.
"It's sweet of you to take care of her
like that when she's so tired," he said.

"She's always tired," Lawrence said.
"Her job runs her around all the time."

"I bet she'll appreciate a home-cooked meal,"
Stan said.  "You're a great cook."

"Yeah, I guess," Lawrence said.

It was one way he could show his love
without having to say  anything about it,
but it still made his chest ache a little
because his father had been the family cook.

When he wasn't drinking out of the sherry bottle
instead of pouring it into the tomato sauce.

"So what do we do next?" Stan asked,
mercifully changing the topic.

"Let me take over the curry again,"
Lawrence said.  "You make the masala."

"What's a --"

"Masala means spice blend," Lawrence said
as he took the spoon from Stan.  "Measure out
the spices one at a time, then pour them 
in little piles on that flat white dish so you
can see which ones you've already done."

"That's clever," Stan said.
He read off the measurements
as he worked so that Lawrence
could check his math.  Then
the spices went into the curry pan.

"Trade places again," Lawrence said,
passing the spoon to Stan.
"I'll cut up the chicken, and then
you can do the potatoes."

It only took a few minutes
to chop the chicken breasts
and scrape them into the pan.

"How big do you want these potatoes?"
Stan asked as he peeled them.

"Bite-sized pieces," Lawrence said.
It was weird how many questions Stan asked,
but then he was completely fearless and
probably didn't care if someone bit his head off
for asking stupid questions.  It sure did
prevent a lot of mistakes, though.

When Stan added the potatoes,
Lawrence handed him the spoon again.
"Stir this while I deal with the rice,"
he said, and Stan took over.

Lawrence moved the rice off the heat,
then started tidying up the counter space.

"I could help clean up?"
Stan offered, still stirring.

There was no end to his helpfulness.
Sometimes it made Lawrence feel
a little uneasy, but he was pretty sure
that was just lack of experience.
He'd get used to it eventually.

"Okay," Lawrence said.
He took the cover off the rice
and then went to stir the curry.

Stan washed the cutting boards and
the knives, putting them in the drainer.
"Done," he announced.

"I need the cilantro from the refrigerator,
in the produce drawer on the right side,
and the kitchen scissors from the drawer
by your left hip," Lawrence said.

Stan brought him the requested items.
"Want me to stir while you cut?"

"Oh.  Sure," Lawrence said.

He was used to alternating between
snips of herb and turns of spoon.
This was so  much better, especially
since Stan had a near-magical knack
for stirring without smacking into
Lawrence's hands as they worked.

Then Lawrence took back the spoon
and handed Stan the scissors.  "Rinse."

Stan washed the scissors
and put them in their drawer.
He found a cloth, wet it, and
wiped down the countertops.

Lawrence wouldn't have anything
to do after supper except for the pots
and the supper dishes themselves.

"Come stir this again," Lawrence said
as he took off his goggles and put them away.

Then he went into the living room
and nudged the end of the couch.
"Supper's almost ready, Mom."

She shrugged off the afghan
and headed for the bathroom.

Lawrence went back into the kitchen
and started fluffing the rice with a fork.
"Cover the curry," he said to Stan.
"Then set the table -- plates are there,
silverware's over here."  He pointed
to the relevant cabinet and drawer.

Stan stacked up the dishes
and dealt them out on the table.

Lawrence put the rice into one bowl
and the curry into another bowl.
Then he realized that Stan had
set out trivets without being asked,
so he put the serving bowls on the table.

Meanwhile Stan had found the glasses
and brought those out along with
the silverware and the cloth napkins,
and Lawrence didn't have the heart
to make him go back for paper ones.
It was no big deal to wash the cloth
that usually came out only for holidays.

"I brought cookies for dessert,"
Stan said, producing a decorative tin
with chickadees printed on it.
"Are snickerdoodles okay?"

"They're fine, thanks," said Lawrence,
who was accustomed to one-dish meals
but happy to take more if he could get it.

"Hi, Mrs. Cunningham," said Stan
as they sat down at the table.
"Lawrence made curry."

Lawrence just stared at him.
Stan had done half the work!

"It smells good," Mom said
as she settled into her own chair.

That made Lawrence worry, because
she didn't hand out compliments
very often, but she seemed to mean it.

He waited, hands twisting in his lap, until
she tasted the curry and nodded acceptance.

"Eat something," Stan said,
elbowing Lawrence in the side.

Lawrence spooned rice and curry
onto his plate, and thank goodness
they'd made a double batch because
Stan would probably eat half of it.

The stuff was delicious, though,
warm and tangy-sweet with spices.

Stan was doing his conversation trick again,
never quite talking with his mouth full,
but tucking quick phrases between bites
as he vacuumed his plate clean
with impressive speed.

It was so much nicer than what
used to pass for family meals
in Lawrence's home that
all he could think about was
how to get more of it.
He wondered if this was what
'normal' really  looked like.

"Where did you get the recipe?"
Lawrence's mother asked.

Lawrence startled at the question.
She usually didn't care.

"I, um, Chatura Pai," he stammered.

"She sounds like a good friend
to give you a family recipe like that,"
Stan prompted, looking at Lawrence.

What on Earth was Stan even doing?
He'd already heard  the story.

"We're in chess club together,"
Lawrence said tentatively.
"She likes playing against me."

"That's nice," Mom said
as if it actually mattered.

"Ah ... no, she's not really ... looking,"
Lawrence said, because her parents
had a matchmaker in mind and Chatura
was amenable and it was so  not his business.
"I won the recipe in a game of chess."

Mom laughed.  "Well, that's useful."

The approval made a warm flutter in his belly,
even better than the chicken curry.

Then Stan was off again, chattering
about his newest badge for Activity Scouts --
he had all the old Boy Scout ones, and was
trying to add as many of the Girl Scout ones
as he could before reaching the age limit.

"I'm trying to decide between Public Policy
or Truth Seeker," he said, refilling his plate.

Lawrence's mother tipped her head.
"Those don't sound familiar," she said.

"Oh, there are always new badges coming up,"
Stan said.  "Social Engineering's after the merger."
He tapped his hip where the badge would be
if he were wearing his sash. 

Lawrence was amazed that Stan could
remember  them all, he'd earned so many.

As Stan talked, Lawrence ate and listened,
content to let him carry most of the conversation,
adding a comment now and then himself.

It was safer that way, although Lawrence
was beginning to suspect that even if
something went wrong, Stan could fix it.

Stan popped open the cookie tin
and passed around the snickerdoodles,
which turned out to be mouth-watering.

"Wow," Lawrence said.  "What else
did you put in these with the cinnamon?"

"Cardamom," said Stan.  "You were
making curry, so I looked up Indian spices,
and that's one we already had at home."

After supper, Lawrence's mother went upstairs,
leaving the two boys to their own devices.

Stan looked at Lawrence, one hand hovering
over his empty plate but not touching it.
"Can I help do the dishes too?"

"Yes, you can help," Lawrence said.
"You wash the dishes; I'll dry and put away."

"Okay," Stan said happily,
stacking up the tableware.

Lawrence went into the kitchen
and started filling the sink,
standing in front of it by sheer habit.

Stan came in and deposited the cookie tin
on the counter next to the bread box,
then simply bumped hips to nudge
Lawrence out of the way in order
to put the dishes in the water.

Lawrence took a dishcloth from the drawer,
mulling over the implications.

Stan made such a large presence in his life
that sometimes it was a stretch, not quite pain,
but an unfamiliar mass that Lawrence had to
shape himself around, even as Stan was bending
himself in new ways to accommodate Lawrence.

He wouldn't trade it for the world.

He didn't say anything, either.
What do you say, when
words are inadequate?

The soft swish and splash of water
was soothing as Stan worked,
and his hands never let go of a dish
before Lawrence had ahold of it.

They finished the whole sinkful
in less than half of the time that
it typically took Lawrence to clean up.

Then they moved into the living room.
"Oops," Stan said, shaking his head
over the stacks of homework
on the coffee table.  "I shouldn't
have left my stuff all over the place.
That was rude, sorry."

Stan's pamphlets for Ladies' Space
and The Family Fixit Man and
whatever else were piled on his notebook.
Lawrence poked at them.  "I guess Mom
just wanted them out of the way," he said.
"If she were mad about it, believe me, you'd know."

"Okay then," Stan said as he started
putting things into his backpack.

Lawrence wondered what Stan was up to
with the whole family act, and then decided
that he didn't care -- whatever the plan was,
he liked it better than being alone with his parents
or the horrible month when he wasn't speaking to Stan.

There was something soothing about spending
a few evenings a week with Stan, or part of a weekend,
that healed an ache he could feel but not name.

Lawrence wanted to explain
what a wonderful evening it had been,
but his throat closed over the words.
Instead he just leaned against Stan's chest.

Stan's hand came up to stroke his hair.
"Thank you," Stan said.

Lawrence huffed a laugh.
Stan was thanking him.
It was ludicrous beyond expression.

"You're welcome," Lawrence said,
because that was just what you did when 
Stan wanted to be ludicrously polite
after he'd done you a favor.

Lawrence still didn't know
what normal was, beyond the
basics of faking it for company,
but he suspected that following Stan
would get him there eventually.

* * *


“Food is symbolic of love when words are inadequate.”
-- Alan D. Wolfelt

Lawrence's house is a tiny little two-story, two-bedroom cottage. See the outside, main floor, and upper floor.

Curry is a category of Indian food.  See recipes for Bengali Chicken Curry with Potatoes and Basmati Rice.

Kitchen measurements make good practice for math.  Most people find it easier to learn math that they actually use in everyday life than abstract equations in a book.

Here's an example of Sherry Tomato Sauce, such as Lawrence's father used to make.

This is the blackberry afghan, named for the little bobbles on it.  It's one example of what I call a "box-bottom" afghan, made from many colors of yarn left over from previous projects.

Masala is a spice blend.  There are many types.

Girl Scout badges include Truth Seeker, Public Policy, and Social Innovator.

I've always thought of snickerdoodles as mixed-spice cookies, but most of the online recipes only use cinnamon.  Here's one for Cinnamon-Cardamom Snickerdoodles.  This is the chickadee tin, the kind that is passed around from one kitchen to another for years.

Normal is elusive, based mostly on assumptions, but those can vary a lot across subcultures.  Contrast healthy families with unhealthy families.  Understand how to raise a happy family.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-11-01 05:51 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Normal's just a college town. :)


Re: Yes...

Date: 2014-11-01 04:31 pm (UTC)
mdlbear: the positively imaginary half of a cubic mandelbrot set (Default)
From: [personal profile] mdlbear
Or perpendicular to the tangent.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-11-01 05:57 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] chanter_greenie
Oh shard me, now I want curry. Yum! I also feel like baking something with cinnamon and cardamom. I do have both Ceylon cinnamon and cardamom in here...

Am I wrong in guessing that Stan's mother might have read a pamphlet or two with a keen, possibly sorrowful/resigned eye? :( Poor lady deserves to catch a break.

American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 06:17 am (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
Gah, you made me nearly spit tea at my monitor!

When I was teaching the boys to cook, there was a memorable, memorable dip into the spice cabinet... the only inedible meal that kid has made so far. One of the kids likes a pinch of cardamom in the tomato sauce for spaghetti. (Yes, I know, it's weird, but it works!)

It felt a little odd for Stan to be having so much trouble with simple maths and measuring in high school... is there a reason?

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 06:39 am (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
Ah, and yet again, the differences between /good/ schools and /good/ teachers... Lawrence is doing more for Stan than he realizes!

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 02:24 pm (UTC)
stardreamer: Meez headshot (Default)
From: [personal profile] stardreamer
And that's a nice trope-inversion there, because usually the math-averse character is female. Remember the furor over Talking Barbie saying "Math is HAAAAARD!"?

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 06:40 am (UTC)
stardreamer: Meez headshot (Default)
From: [personal profile] stardreamer
One of the best spaghetti dishes I've ever had was at a restaurant in Memphis where I realized that they'd put just a dash of cinnamon in the sauce. Again, you wouldn't think it would work, but boy howdy it does.

I've also successfully added a touch of cinnamon to the spicing for a pot roast. I got that idea from an SCA feast, where it was used as a "period" touch.

You do have to be really careful not to overdo it, though; too much and you get the "dessert" sweet flavor instead of the savory one.

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 06:42 am (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
I tend to add just a touch of it to my chili for a similar reason. Too much and it's automatically associated with 'sweet'- but in the baroque period, it was a go-to spice for fowl, especially game birds. Different uses, different concentrations... and different palates for different eras.

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 12:53 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
One of the baroque recipes I didn't get to try mixed chicken, chicken liver, and /baked yellow cake/ to make a savory pie. Honestly, the /printed recipe/ was confusing to my brain, as it kept arguing "sweet/SAVORY?" even while reading the ingredients!

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 04:42 pm (UTC)
mdlbear: the positively imaginary half of a cubic mandelbrot set (Default)
From: [personal profile] mdlbear
Sweet and savory is an Eastern European / Middle Eastern thing as well. I need to track down my Mom's recipe for "stuffed cabbage", which is basically beef and rice wrapped in cabbage leaves and cooked in a sauce that involves raisins, brown sugar, and I think lemon juice.

Mom got it from Dad's mother, because it was one of his favorites.

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 04:49 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
I have my grandmother's toned-down version of cabbage rolls she got from her mother-in-law (German, with a lot of Eastern European influence) when she married. It's a /huge/ amount of work, but simply shredding the cabbage and assembling ingredients into goulash is a good way to keep the /flavor/ and the family connection without spending half the freaking day in the kitchen actively prepping, unlike many meals where it takes half the day to /cook/ but half an hour to prep.

Ours is a mixture of ground beef, rice, tomatoes and a metric ton of spices (the spice list took up its own 3*5 index card when I wrote it down in fifth grade, so figure half that space needed with adult penmanship), plus the cabbage leaves were cooked in lemon-water to season /them/ and keep them bright-colored. Assembly was more than a little finicky to me... and I found that neither hubby nor kids enjoy cabbage in any way, shape or form, so it's fallen out of /our/ family tradition, too. Sigh.

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 05:58 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
That would be a fusion cuisine I haven't seen before!

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 06:32 pm (UTC)
dialecticdreamer: My work (Default)
From: [personal profile] dialecticdreamer
This is now a thing, as soon as I can buy grape leaves!

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-06 02:11 am (UTC)
stardreamer: Meez headshot (Default)
From: [personal profile] stardreamer
Hmmm... whenever someone talks about recipes with cabbage (unless it's red cabbage), I start thinking about substituting bok choy. Normally I am completely averse to leaves, but for some reason bok choy is an exception to that. I still won't eat it raw, but when cooked it's pretty good.

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-01 11:47 pm (UTC)
technoshaman: Tux (Default)
From: [personal profile] technoshaman
Hmmmmmm! Stealing the idea... :)

Re: American tomato curry

Date: 2014-11-02 02:43 am (UTC)
zeeth_kyrah: A glowing white and blue anthropomorphic horse stands before a pink and blue sky. (Default)
From: [personal profile] zeeth_kyrah
I always like to add a bit of cumin into ground beef when I cook. It gives it a richer flavor than "just meat".

(no subject)

Date: 2014-11-01 06:32 am (UTC)
stardreamer: Meez headshot (Default)
From: [personal profile] stardreamer
Aha, now I can make all the comments I've been thinking about since you sent me the prompter's copy! :-)

I was hoping you'd link a recipe for that curry, because it made my mouth water just reading it. We don't use potatoes much any more because we're (voluntarily) restricting carbs, but we've found that jicama works quite well as a potato substitute in a lot of things, and we'd eat this like a stew rather than putting it over rice. A lot of things that are normally eaten as toppings over rice do fine if treated like soup or stew instead.

Aha, Lawrence's mom's interest in their homework makes more sense after reading the conversation previously, where Stan mentioned that he was doing a project on dysfunctional families. She may realize that things aren't right, and be looking to see if he has anything she might be able to follow up on.

I would have thought Stan would be more familiar with cooking; he's got all those badges, and surely some of them must be kitchen-related. Or is it just that his family doesn't do Indian food at all, and so he's thrown by the terminology?

Lawrence just stared at him.
Stan had done half the work!

But it was all done under Lawrence's direction. The head chef gets the credit for the meal at a good restaurant, even though sie may have a dozen assistants. So in this case it was perfectly appropriate for Stan to say that Lawrence made the curry.

Lawrence's reaction to what most people would consider routine mealtime socializing is heartbreaking. And it's good to see Stan taking the lead here with both Lawrence and his mom, modeling a pleasant family conversation that doesn't turn into an argument. There were times when I could have used a Stan myself; my parents tended to turn every family meal into Captive Lecture Time, which was not fun at all.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-11-01 04:29 pm (UTC)
mdlbear: the positively imaginary half of a cubic mandelbrot set (Default)
From: [personal profile] mdlbear
>>It was weird how many questions Stan asked,
but then he was completely fearless and
probably didn't care if someone bit his head off
for asking stupid questions. It sure did
prevent a lot of mistakes, though. <<

Yup. A lesson I'm still working on learning.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-11-01 05:37 pm (UTC)
thnidu: X RATED Food Porn. The X is a crossed fork & knife (food porn)
From: [personal profile] thnidu
Oh, so soul-wonderful on one level and salivating on another! I wish I had the spoons for serious cooking: metaphorical, not literal: I'm downsizing hugely and have WAY too much tableware for present needs or space!

(no subject)

Date: 2014-11-01 11:52 pm (UTC)
technoshaman: Tux (Default)
From: [personal profile] technoshaman
“Food is symbolic of love when words are inadequate.”
-- Alan D. Wolfelt


Cooking is definitely high on my Acts of Service list...

Re: Yes...

Date: 2014-11-02 01:16 am (UTC)
technoshaman: Tux (Default)
From: [personal profile] technoshaman
Hadn't thought about it in those terms... I'm more like, I want you to be HAPPY. Aside from touch, I'm at my happiest when people are tucking into a steaming meal I've whipped up... and saying little other than "yum" and "more"... :)

Re: Yes...

Date: 2014-11-02 06:22 am (UTC)
technoshaman: (cooking)
From: [personal profile] technoshaman
And if your cooking is anything like your posted recipes (the Skillet Algorithm was an instant hit here), I'd regret having to leave ...
Edited Date: 2014-11-02 06:23 am (UTC)

Re: Yes...

Date: 2014-11-02 10:48 pm (UTC)
technoshaman: Tux (Default)
From: [personal profile] technoshaman
Leeks might be a bit overpowering for shrimp. Think onions; they're in that family. Veggie lasagne, potatoes au gratin, stuffing for your turkey, colcannon, carbonara...

Although if you put them in *gumbo*, then you could put the shrimp in and it would be fine.

♫ I will play for gumbo... ♪

Re: Yes...

Date: 2014-11-02 02:50 am (UTC)
zeeth_kyrah: A glowing white and blue anthropomorphic horse stands before a pink and blue sky. (Default)
From: [personal profile] zeeth_kyrah
I have a friend I do this for on occasion, as I think he has talents he needs to explore and a life that should have some kind of sufficiency in it. We're both poor, but our food stamps run out at different times of the month. He keeps offering to pay me back for the frozen stuff I just am not going to cook; I may take him up next time he comes by.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-11-03 03:24 am (UTC)
helgatwb: Drawing of Helga, holding her sword, looking upset. (Default)
From: [personal profile] helgatwb
Your picture of Lawrence's mother, on the other poem, that lady just looked so tired.

Re: Yes...

Date: 2014-11-03 05:05 am (UTC)
helgatwb: Drawing of Helga, holding her sword, looking upset. (Default)
From: [personal profile] helgatwb
Poor lady.

(no subject)

Date: 2014-11-02 10:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] paantha.livejournal.com
*squee* That was just gorgeous. It was lovely to see the mixture of assertive-Lawrence (knowing how to cook and measure and suchlike) and unsure-Lawrence (faced with Stan's unwavering helpfulness and kindness). Whether or not he ever finds "normal", I do hope he continues to have his bit of happiness.

Thank you!

Date: 2014-11-02 07:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ysabetwordsmith.livejournal.com
>> *squee* That was just gorgeous. <<

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much.

>> It was lovely to see the mixture of assertive-Lawrence (knowing how to cook and measure and suchlike) and unsure-Lawrence (faced with Stan's unwavering helpfulness and kindness). <<

What makes these boys fit as a couple is precisely that balance between their strengths and weaknesses. I love weaving together the contrasting threads like that. Here we can also see confident-Stan (with basic cooking techniques) and unsure-Stan (with Indian cuisine).

>> Whether or not he ever finds "normal", I do hope he continues to have his bit of happiness. <<

Oh, they will.

Bumps notwithstanding, this is my happy story about what would happen if a junior superhero and supervillain actually worked out their issues and admitted they're in love. <3 Been wanting to do this since I was in junior high and the farmboys started falling in love and acting like Clark/Lex or Charles/Erik. *facepalm* Here is a copy of The Joy of Gay Sex and a whole roll of quarters to go put in the clue machine.


ysabetwordsmith: Cartoon of me in Wordsmith persona (Default)

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