Lucrezia and Lazarus.

Yes, it was a good scene and time for nostalgia. Nouvelle Lucrezia sat and scribbled, reminiscing about another time, when the past was a different era.

"Once upon a time," she wrote, " I got married in a cloud of white optimism. Looking back, I can say there was a magician at work. I shall let you now all reflect on that little mage, Cupid. He is a blind drunk." She paused, then kept writing. "Never mind, little women. You too can survive survivor baggage, and raise your expectations in life. This beautiful world of ours can really be described as a Home for the Bewildered, our whole human race. As Our Good Lord says, little chicks, it is quite okay to be human, to make mistakes. We must pull ourselves together, and overcome setbacks. Any human can."

Lucrezia kept right on scribbling this winding back of her years, only one little woman author. "On the whole, as this silver senior winds back to another place, another time, I must say nostalgia can provide some happy memories. I am full of laughs, and light hearted fun."

"Once upon a summer's day," Nouvelle Lucrezia's pen took wings, "my late unlamented ex told me we were going fishing. He was from overseas, and his community regarded him as a noble brave hunter. Fishermen ventured beyond suburbia, the world of their concrete patios, to the wilderness. There he foraged for free foods, like a supermarket in nature."

"It was such a hot day, but sitting reading by a river bank was pleasant. The lazy old river flowed and meandered. The fisherman, Hank, had wandered off some distance away. Being too hot in my denim fishing jeans, little women, I stripped down to my modest under chunders. There I sat in the sunny pool in the river, reading my novel, while attempting to smoke my gaspers at the same time."

"Bemused, but irate, my old man had a fussy fit, accusing me of scaring away all the fish. "What fish?" I inquired, "They do not exist here. They are a myth." My late unlamented ranted, so we fished on. And on."

"At twilight, action! Fishing lines and bait were snatched. We caught an array of eels. They are a fresh water species, covered in the slime of the bottom dwellers. Hank knocked them all on their heads with his mallet, and slit their intestines. Their innards were spilled into the river, to attract more provender, next time. Mosquitoes the size of sparrows had started feasting on the intrepid fishers of biodiversity, so we drove home in the moonlight."

"Into the laundry went an ice chest full of fresh water and dead eels. We collapsed on our nuptial bed, closed the bedroom door, (quite symbolic). We slept soundly. But! In the late morning sunlight, I awoke. Hank snored. I heard my two kittens wailing, if not caterwauling. Indeed, I ventured into the kitchen. There, dead now, or was he, lay the biggest, slimiest eel. His head was bashed in, his guts had been slit. Undeterred, this latter day Lazarus had slithered from his eel tank of doom, and had been sliding across the kitchen and family room. A trail of silver indelible slime tracked across the orange ceramic tile surfaces. Lazarus had been after one thing! My kittens for his din-dins."

"My horrified and terrified kittens still cowered in fear, meowing. They were so glad to see this old Lucrezia, rescue one! They barely left my bed again. I had to protect my fur friends. Mary Poppins still approves today, being quite a pet advocate in her day."

"Yes, little women," Lucrezia rambled on, expounding on her past, "Our God is a pillar of strength. He is on all our sides." Hank emerged as I was valiantly attempting to eradicate slime from the abode of our long demolished adobe hacienda."

"What the.......?" muttered Hank. "Tis Lazarus, of the latter day resurrection!" I replied. Hank never quite understood my quirky, but biblical and apt sense of humor. It was very bizarre. I nobly fed my cats, also making a cup of coffee, white and strong, as some women need to be."

" 'Twas all so long ago and far away, the days of Nouvelle everything, so trending in those days. "Well, this is something to experiment with," I chattted on, ever blithe. "I shall channel my Nouvelle Lucrezia." Yes, my good kind heart is never hard to find."

"Bravely, I picked up Lazarus, and chopped the giant eel into portion sizes, administering the old-fashioned method of flour, egg and breadcrumbs. I cooked dear Lazarus, and we ate him. Delish!"

"We happily gave away the rest of the eels in their tank of fate, to the community and family from far overseas. We proceeded on until there were no hard feelings left, or indeed, any feelings for the late ex."

"So, little women, wrote the scribe Lucrezia, "it is quite cool to explore your inner spark of creativity. Lots of answers are to be found in our Holy Book of Love, in God's words. We must keep an open mind about miracles. In these, our silver years, we can all echo joining in this global network of ours, to pray for freedom and healing on Earth for everyone and everything, including our environment. These days, we can follow in our path of human faith, fishers of souls, if not fish or eels. Just like Jesus, healing magician."

"Times pass, times change. You too can create, explore new skills, new recipes. You can join Nouvelle Lucrezia's cooking school. It depends on what you believe, like that famous story of Lazarus. Lazarus the eel, that is."

"Ah, happy memories. Not a bad day for nostalgia. I do not know if this tale is a Bishop's fave, meet his approval. Yes, little women, you must aim to be kind to yourselves. There is a happy cup of coffee with your name on it. There is not really any turning back. But here is a good time and place for reminiscing, for building, faith and literacy. Really, it is good for our wrinkles. Wake up smiling, and enjoy an awesome chick power day."

Nouvelle Lucrezia laid down her pen temporarily, still keeping an open mind. Bless all our simple human hearts, as well as stupid Cupid, drunkenly firing off little arrows. Peace these days means harmony, far greater than any conflict for any humans on Earth.