Really.  It is all about the love.  And the stars are a way of reminding us about that.  They shine through the night, when perhaps we're feeling most vulnerable, most afraid.  They will talk to you, if you sit still and consent to listen.  Really they will.
    So today, I'm offering an excerpt from my  fantasy novel Children of the Land, which is different than most current novels because it moves toward utopia, something I still believe in.
   Yeah, I'm that optimist child who is put in a room full of horse manure and digs happily through it, saying, "with all this s**t, there must be a pony down there somewhere.  I never got over that sensibility.  I doubt I ever will.
     Anyway, here's an excerpt from Children of the Land , where one of the characters is trying to figure out what she should do next, in light of a rather fascist regime that wants to kill her. I'm guessing that doesn't sound unfamiliar to many women right now.  And in my view, the answer is still love. Not like Hallmark love. Not like romantic love even.  But the fiercest love. The love of a mother for a child, the love of all of us who love the planet and will do anything to protect it.  The love that moves mountains, moves politics, moves anything to protect the actual basis of being loving human beings.  The love that moves toward all goodness, and resists all evil.   That love.  You know what I mean.   Here it is, followed by a recipe for fried squash blossoms, because food is always love.


    FROM:  Children of the Land 
     The moon sank below the horizon while all slept except the Stranger, who stayed watching the night sky.  Vareka slept hard, sinking into dreams of places and people she did not know.  Then, suddenly, she was awake, as if called.  She turned to see if she could find what woke her.
     She saw the Stranger standing at the crest of a hill.  A light shone around him.  She stared at it, blinking in wonder.   His cloak glowed with stars, pinpoints of light playing on him as if he were the night sky.   She gasped and sat up. He heard, and turned to her.
    "There are stars," she said softly.
     He shifted, and the light dispersed. He walked to her, squatted beside her.  "Sleep, Lady.  I'm watching," he said.
      "I saw stars," she repeated.  "You - you're made of stars."
       His face remained shadowed but his voice held a smile.  "We all are.  As a Citizen schooled in science, you know this.   We are made of the same stuff as the stars."  He pointed toward the nearby lake.  "Long ago pieces of a star fell into that lake and married the water, creating the elements needed for life.  That small life grew and changed and walked out of the water to become - well, many lives, including yours."
      She shook her head.  "That's just science.  It only explains how. But I feel the hardship of moving from star to human self, and I do not understand why any creature would choose such pain.  You - you see more than how.  You know why."
    "You perceive that?"
    "Yes.  I see it in you."
    "So soon," he murmured.   Your vision returns too soon, and you are not ready for it.  Lady, wait in patience.  You'll learn what you need to know in Okara.  For now, you should rest."
      "I'll rest better for hearing your answer.  Perhaps it will sweeten my dreams, which are hard to bear of late."
       "Perhaps," he said.  He picked up a handful of the soft, sandy soil and let it run through his fingers back to the ground.  He considered it, and then he spoke.
        "It was all done for love, my Lady," he said.  "The stars breathed themselves into flesh to learn love, and love, alive, is the son the earth sings back to the spinning stars.   The Children of the Land endured the transformation from star to watery home to breathing bodies only for love, and the the strangest creatures of our dreams bring us only to that singing. Our lives are no more or less than this.  We are stars, and we came here to learn love."
        The core of her unspoken yearnings told her this was true.  She had waited her whole life only to hear this said and, it seemed, said this way by this Stranger. For it wasn't only his words, but his being that touched her. His presence shone with what lived beyond words - river and sky and the song of the galaxy's spinning stars.   He called her to listen beyond words, to stories that only flesh curved over bone could know.
      

    CHILDREN OF THE LAND is available here.   In the meantime, here's a recipe to play with - flowers that are stars of the summer land.  Yum. Or as the French say, Miam.

FRIED BLOSSOMS – SWEET
(NOTE:  My family tradition is unusual in that we make a sweet version of the blossom.   If you want savory, you can either: 1)  Omit the sugar, and dip the blossoms in bread crumbs after the batter, or 2) stuff the blossoms with about a tablespoon of ricotta, parsley or other herbs that seem good to you, then dip in batter and fry.  Of course you can amend what you stuff with, or use herbs with the bread crumbs because you know the rule.  PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD!)

Miam!12 or so Zucchini blossoms, and if available some ELDERBERRY BLOSSOMS. I mean, really.  Yum.       (BTW - some people say don’t pick the male flowers, but I’m all for gender equality.  In fact, I pick the ones with tiny zucchini still stuck to the blossom and fry them up  as well)


Enough canola oil to half fill a good sized skillet.
Confectioner’s sugar for sprinkling on the joyous blooms.

BATTER:1 cup cake flour (yeah, it does make a difference)
1/4 cup potato starch or corn flour
1/2 teaspoon baking power
1 egg white
About 1 cup ICE WATER (I mean, really cold) or REALLY COLD sparking water.
1/4 cup sugar (for sweet version)




Mix the dry ingredients in a medium sized bowl.  Add the water and egg white, stirring gently and leaving better lumpy and undermixed.   Chaos is your friend here.  
Keeping the batter Brrrr Cold, start the oil heating up until it reaches 370 degrees.  Drop a bit of batter in the oil and see if it sizzzles.  If so, you're ready for action. 
Dip the blossoms in the batter, getting them nicely covered (because they’re feeling shy right now).  Lay the blossom in the oil. You can fry about three at once, but NO MORE!  They don’t like crowds.  
When the flower’s  golden brown on one side (just shy of a minute), flip it over.  Let it get golden brown on the other side and remove from the oil, putting it on a paper towel to briefly drain.
Put all your flowers on a plate, sprinkle liberally  (because we are liberal people, aren’t we?) with confectioner’s sugar, and serve to friends and strangers, near and far.