A Day at the Lake

August 20, 2025 MabelLeave a comment

Hello Strangers,

Isn’t that a nice picture? Look how bright the clouds are, and how shimmery the water is. I’m very proud of that one actually.

Henry (my partner and friend I’ve mentioned in past entries) and I went on a long drive and spent the day at the lake. For several months now, I’ve made some rather gruesome jokes about drowning, which he does not appreciate. The thing about it is though, there’s a certain mystique, a certain kind of romance around water and its temperament. Murder mysteries, ghost stories, and ladies of the lake. Not to mention, drowning in art is a lot different than drowning in reality. All kinds of symbolism and even hope in literature that simply is not present in real life accounts; in reality, drowning is just another way to die. Sometimes horrible, sometimes mundane, an unfortunate but not uncommon part of life. In art, it can symbolize anything from feelings of floating and sinking, stagnation, and depression, but also magic, freedom, otherworldliness, peace, and clarity.

As I mentioned though, it’s different in art than in reality and the simple truth is that despite all my jokes, I am actually terrified of drowning. I have been since I was a little girl.

And that’s why it was truly lovely to go to a quiet spot on the lake, pull out some sandwiches, chips and drinks for a nice lunch, and then wade out slowly onto the rocks. The algae was beautiful and absolutely disgusting as our feet kicked it up in the water, Henry grabbing rocks with his toes and “gifting” them to me to throw onto shore. I asked him where the edge of the cliff was under the water and he bobbed over to a spot and said “right about here.”

For the next several hours between bouts of exploring and playing games together, I swam out, rolled onto my back, swam awkwardly and slowly, and went further out than I’ve ever managed to before.

The top layer (about the first two feet) of water were warm. Almost like a bath, very warm. And when I would stop to tread water, looking at the navy blue surface and glassy sheen, I thought back to all those murder mysteries and legends. And the water was so cold. Three feet down it must have dropped 15 degrees or more. It was so refreshing. Motorboats sped past and nearby, families and friends floated lazily with beers in hand.

It was so nice to do something. Something very small, but I’ve never felt the temperature of water change like that. And I’ve never seen a lake from its middle. And no one has ever collected rocks for me with their feet. And I rarely enjoy the sun so much, but I definitely did that day. And sandwiches are rarely that good. And drives back are usually not so sleepy. Evenings not usually so content.

There was nothing earth shattering about that day, but it was nice to feel the reality of being in the water, in addition to thinking about the stories of it. I’m still afraid of drowning though. But that’s fine.

Anyways, all my love,

—Mabel

Small Dream Saturday

Small Dream Saturday: entry 13

June 24, 2023 MabelLeave a comment

Good morning, Strangers.

Velma Dinkley: Chocolate Ice Cream at Night

When I was a child, I watched Scooby Doo obsessively. Didn’t matter the series or story, show or movie, it was guaranteed the tv was mine from 7:00 to 7:30 every single night. It was family ordained. I’d stand there eating a hotdog at the border between the kitchen and living room.

Scooby Doo was the seed that grew the desires to have a van and go on road-trips. It led me to consider becoming a private detective, and inspired my addiction to mysteries and fantasy alike. It was the first thing that made me feel clever and sparked an interest in cryptozoology.

I have three small dreams for this morning. They get smaller as they go along.

1. I would like to write a Scooby Doo television series. Scooby Doo is a franchise that acts like a comic book world. There are alternate universes with different sets of lore, different kinds of stories, different art styles, tones, and even character development. I think it’s likely that in twenty years, we’ll still be making Scooby Doo shows. And I’d like to write one.

2. A smaller dream, but still large, is that I would like to have insulated sheds on my very wild, natural property. These sheds would hold animation/digital art tech, so that I could make short videos, but also much longer and more detailed comic books and graphic novels that I would then self-publish. (Or maybe publish traditionally! Who knows?) They would be cool and dark, and they’d be an escape from their more primitive surroundings.

3. This is the littlest dream, and it’s the one that will prepare me for dreams 1 and 2. I’m going to write as much fan fiction as possible. I should have started when I was twelve like all the other writers, but I just wasn’t ready. So now, I’m going to be indulgent. I’m going to learn by doing, and even if it’s all hot garbage, I am going to have fun and grow as a person as I write incomprehensible cross overs, multiple-plot line series’s, and just fun, ridiculous one off stories. It’s going to be magnificent, and I know that because I’ve already started. My motto is quantity over quality. For that is the way to improve.

That’s all for now! Happy Saturday, my dears, and happy writing! All love,

—Mabel

Fox Bread

February 1, 2023April 5, 2023 MabelLeave a comment

Greetings, Strangers!

As we enter February, I sit here, reflecting on my writing habits. I often write in a room with a window that has limited natural light. I often write in the middle or later part of the day. Sitting in a gray box, I feel myself deflate, despite my myriad blessings. It goes to show how what we surround ourselves with colors how we see the world. And this leads me to the legend of Fox Bread. (I will give you the recipe, don’t be upset.)

There was a woman who lived on the outskirts of a village, way up North, and near a forest. Though the summers shone brightly, the winters were as violent and terrible as anyone could imagine. Houses often went dark, and firewood dwindled to nothing. During these days, the wind howled and cut trees, stones, and skin, and it was difficult just to make it to market to buy necessities.

That was the days’ task; traveling to the market to buy food and fuel. Even bundled up, her joints ached as she climbed the hills and found the path through the forest. She lamented in her heart the poverty and dimness of the world around her. But then, the woman saw a fox. Then, she saw another, and another. Right in front of her, making no attempt to hide, their bright orange tails bounded through the snow.

Now, foxes in these parts were regarded as tricksters, liars, and thieves. Their screams signaled chaos and mourning in the outer woods… If one saw a fox, local custom was to throw stones their direction in the hopes of maiming them, or at the very least running them off. This woman felt differently. She laughed when she saw them, a laugh of complete and total glee. Hearing it, the first fox looked back and locked eyes with her. Despite the darkening sky, his eyes were filled with sunlight. For a moment, time stood still.

And then just like that, they were gone.

She got her provisions and went back to her home, hoping to make some bread but knowing it probably wouldn’t rise; the air was too cold, the fire too small. Totally dark now, a small candle lit her kitchen, and in the far distance, she heard the foxes scream. The woman sighed and tried to steel her heart against the anguish around her. Sometimes, there is nothing to be done except to pray and go to sleep, so she went and lay down by the fire.

When she awoke the next morning, the sky was still heavy, but as she stumbled to the kitchen, she froze in amazement; wrapped around her bowl of rising bread was a fox. Around that fox were three other foxes. She began to laugh that same laugh, and the middle fox opened his eyes, not bothering to move his head. She could swear that he’d smiled at her. Her love and laughter were his price. As soon as the sun went down, the foxes yawned and stretched, and went back to the forest, but every morning when she awoke, they would return to warm the rising bread for the days’ loaf. She henceforth became known as the Fox baker, for every winter they returned, and she made bread for everyone in the village. Slowly, their view of foxes began to change. Slowly, brightness returned to winter and the village, like fox tails in the snow.

As February sets in, it can be easy to think that winter lasts forever. It will always be hard, difficult, and dark. It is easy to feel isolated, numb, and cold. If this world were all there was to look at, I would probably agree. Thankfully, I believe that there will be a day with no more tear, no more sorrows, and no more fears. There is coming a day when all things will be made new, and the evils that afflict this world will be done away with.

⁴‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)

As a final note before I give you the recipe, this is what Christians believe about God; that He has always loved us, and in this love, he gave us free will so that we would have freedom to make decisions on our own terms. We used this freedom to turn away from God, and that has resulted in all human suffering since then. God never stopped loving us, and He sent his Son, Jesus, as a sacrifice for our sins. Jesus was hung on a cross to die, and as he died, he took the collective sin of every person who ever lived upon himself. He buried sin with himself and rose again, defeating death. If anyone chooses to believe in Him as their Lord and Savior, trusting Him to forgive their sins and turning away from them, they will be saved from eternal death, which is hell. That is the Good News, that God loves everyone no matter what they’ve done, and wants everyone to receive forgiveness and eternal life. We still have the same freedom we always have.

That is why ultimately, there is real, tangible, hope.

I hope this fox bread recipe will warm your heart and home, and remind you of hope:

Ingredients

1 1/2 C Warm Water

2 tsp Salt

2-3 tsp Sugar (follow your instincts)

2 tsp Instant Yeast (add a little extra if you want)

3 C Bread Flour

Instructions

Add warm water to a large bowl. To this, add salt, sugar, and yeast. Whisk lightly and allow the mixture a few minutes for the yeast to foam (But don’t panic if it doesn’t. Sometimes this happens, and it often still works out fine.) To the yeast mixture, add in bread flour and stir until just combined. Cover the bowl and allow it to proof for about two hours, until doubled in size. (If it’s cold outside, I recommend keeping it near an active oven, or wrapping a heating pad or heated towel around it, serving the same function as the fox in the story.)

After it’s proofed, wet your hands and remove the dough from the sides of the bowl, and pour onto a floured countertop. If cooking in a Dutch oven or pot, preheat the oven to 450 with the Dutch oven inside. Gently tuck the dough into a loose ball and put it back in its bowl to proof for another forty minutes. After it proofs, put it on a floured piece of parchment paper, and place them both in the Dutch oven. If you’re using a bread tin, preheat the oven as normal, flour your bread tin, tuck dough into a loaf shape, and proof in the tin.

Bake for 30 minutes uncovered, and ten minutes covered. Remove and let cool for at least fifteen minutes.

Happy baking,

–Mabel