Here we are, the last day of 2011. It’s had its ups and
downs like most years but overall, I'm still here, looking forward to another
year.
In 2012, I’ll celebrate a major
birthday and believe me, I can’t get over how quickly I've reached this age but
I’ll take it over the alternative, then again, who wouldn't?
I expect 2012 to be similar to 2011. My relationships with
family and friends will continue as they always have; adding a friend or two
would be bonus. The big difference will be me meeting a companion. It didn’t happen in 2011 so expectations are
high for 2012. No pressure on the new yearJ.
He’s out there and I’m positive we’ll meet soon. I’m clear on what I expect of this man and
someone out there is just as clear in his expectations and when our paths
cross, we’ll surely recognize each other.
So if you are independent, unattached, financially responsible, care about your relatives and pets; date women close to your age, love hanging out,
movies, theatre, day trips, travel and giving back; if you look fairly decent, take
care of yourself, have a live and let live attitude and a sense of humour; if
you keep abreast of what’s going on in the world and at least try to keep up
with technology; if you are not set in your ways and just waiting for death,
maybe we’ll meet sooner than later.
So thank you 2011, it’s been a slice and here’s to 2012.
Bring it on. We’ll get on just fine.
There I was sitting in the car dealership’s nicely appointed
waiting room killing time with a crossword, occasionally glancing up at the TV news,
waiting for my winter tires to be installed and oil changed.
Since it was a Wednesday, there were not too many people
waiting and quite a number of chairs were vacant. I was sitting in a chair at the end of a row of
three rows forming a “U”. In the centre of this “U” was a huge, round coffee
table.
In came a middle-aged woman who sat in the end chair in the
row to my left and proceeded to take off her shoes. She then planted her feet
on the table. I mentioned her being middle-aged as we tend to ascribe bad behaviour
and lack of manners to young people, rightly or wrongly.
She sat there reading a book like she was in her living room
and not in a public waiting area of a business. I was surprised but really, I should
not be as we have seen people put their feet on seats on trains and in movie
theatres, put their bags on the seat next to them depriving another of a seat, spit
on the sidewalk, push ahead of others in line, bump in to others without a glance,
furthermore an “excuse me”, talk during live performances, speak loudly and
about personal business on cell phones, park in no parking areas outside the supermarket
forcing traffic into one lane and the list goes on.
To say anything to the offender may risk being told off in
the most colourful language and in extreme cases, one`s life. So we just look
away and hope someone else would take up the challenge or that we could soon complete
whatever mission we are on and depart from the presence of the ill-mannered.
So you cheer when various Occupy Movements are asked to
vacate an area, when protesters are pepper sprayed, arrested and generally
brutalized. So you comment on social media, write letters to the editor and
call in to radio shows to say you agree with all this and as a matter of fact,
the protesters should get out of your parks, off your streets and just get a
job and while they are at it, a bath . You pay taxes and they
are in your parks that are for walking your dogs, pushing your strollers and for
you to sit on a bench to enjoy the sun and eat lunch.
So you claim you have no idea what the occupiers want; if
only you had a clue what they were protesting and the worst of it, who are
their leaders? How can there be no leaders. Well, without leaders, how can the
media cover the protests? God forbid reporters have to drag their butts to the
occupy sites and talk to protesters to understand a wide range of issues and
report on them without spin.
So you think they have made their point and should just move
on and let you get on with your so very important life ‘cause fighting for
rights has a timeline. Don’t you remember such timelines from the civil rights
movement? Okay Mr. King et al, two months tops to get your points across and
then you need to stop your marching and sit-ins and boycotts and general
bellyaching and return to the back of the bus and remember your place. You don’t remember this? Well shame on you.
Bone up on your history and you will see that all revolutionaries had a timeline
dictated to them by the oppressors.
During the Arab uprisings, did you cheer on protesters in Egypt’s
Tahrir Square? How about in Libya? What about the other nations like Tunisia
and Syria fighting to determine their destiny? If you rooted for any of these
protesters and high-fived when Mubarak resigned, leaders in Sudan and Iraq
announced they won’t seek re-election and when Gadhafi was captured and killed,
then hypocrisy is thy name.
You cannot have it both ways. You cannot claim to be for
democracy but only when it suits your definition and timetable. You cannot talk
about “exporting democracy” but try to stifle it at home. You cannot insult the protesters by calling
them “dirty hippies” and worse and at the first sign of inconvenience to you, run
to the mayor’s office to request the full force of the law to be turned on
them.
Democracy is not neatly packaged. It is not fought for
exclusively by the nicely dressed and well-scrubbed. It’s not meant to make the
few comfortable at the expense of the many. A lot of us would never join a
protest group, rough it in a tent in a park in sunny weather furthermore in
inclement weather so when some are willing to do all these things and more,
they need understanding and support not pithy comments, ridicule and the heavy
hand of law enforcement.
The Occupy Movement protesters may be evicted from their
camps but that does not mean the movement is dead. It is now a world-wide
phenomenon whether you agree with it or not.
Tents may be dismantled but an idea, awareness, knowledge and the fight
for social justice cannot be dismantled and carted away.
Injustice has been magnified. Frustrated
people who thought they were alone fighting against “too-big-to-fail” companies
now know they have numbers that matter and can bring about positive change. Those who thought their vote did not
count and who did not vote now, hopefully, realise they should pick a side, not
because some talking head said how to vote but because they have done their
research and will support the side that best represents their views. The fight
will continue.
What to make of a man like Herman Cain? A man who said this about
the Occupy Wall Street protesters: "Don't blame Wall Street, don't blame
the big banks, if you don't have a job and you're not rich, blame yourself!” There
he was touting personal responsibility although in an ignorant manner but seemed
to jettison said responsibility when his behind was in the fire. Faced with
allegations of sexual harassment, what did Cain do? He blamed himself. HaHaHa. I
apologize, couldn’t resist. He blamed everyone and their mother for his
failings. Really Herman? The “Democrat machine” is bringing you down? This man
has got to be aware that Democrats would love to see him as the GOP
nominee. He can’t be that clueless. Big
bucks could be made selling tickets to see him debate President Obama. There
won’t be enough hankies for him to mop his sweaty brow.
Here’s a man who saw absolutely nothing wrong with saying, “African
Americans have been brainwashed into not being open minded, not even
considering a conservative point of view." So, Herman, if they were not
looking at you as a viable candidate for POTUS, they have been “brainwashed”?
It had nothing to do with you not having the qualities to be president? Since
he is a conservative, obviously the brainwashing didn’t work on him but pity the
majority of Blacks who didn’t have the fortitude to withstand said brainwashing.
Interesting that he recently confirmed his wife is a Democrat. Does he see her
as “not open minded”? He couldn’t even convince his own wife to leave what he
called “the Democrat plantation”. Nuff said about his powers of persuasion.
Cain said as president he “Won’t feel comfortable having a
Muslim in his cabinet.” This from a man who grew up during the civil rights era
and witnessed the struggles of his race. But then again, he seemed happy to sit
out the fight and continued to sit in the back of the bus because his father
told him to avoid trouble. Would Cain be at all perturbed if a white presidential
candidate had said he/she didn't want a Black person in his/her cabinet? Somehow I
doubt it.
Dear Herman, a Stage IV colon cancer survivor, said he would be dead under “Obamacare”
without a thought for all those who die because, unlike him, they have no
wealth to buy healthcare. I wonder if Herman Cain has poor relatives and what
exactly do they think of him criticizing a president who found a way to
help those without means, to have access to healthcare.
Herman Cain - Lose the Hat
Herman Cain wrote in his book, that should he become
president, his Secret Service codename should be “Cornbread”. There is nothing wrong with cornbread; it’s
delicious but don’t you think the POTUS should have a more dignified codename? Why the self-deprecating behaviour? Cain
seems to think playing to stereotypes is alright and speaking of stereotypes,
lose the freaking hat; we know what that screams.
We see him in debates and interviews referring to himself in the third person. Just imagine dear Herman at a G8, G20 and other meetings with world leaders speaking like this. Stop it! Herman Cain is the type of Black person who by acting like a full blown fool and making idiotic statements on the national stage, makes some Black people cringe.
In my humble opinion, I think he had to joke, laugh and poke fun at himself to get noticed by and remain in the circles of which he wanted to be a part. Maybe he thought if they were laughing with him, they won’t be laughing at him, hence the “Shucky Ducky” and “Love y’all” when he announced his run.
Mr. Cain also seemed to think American foreign policy is to
go into countries and “kick the you know what out of everyone in the world.”
What an imbecilic thing to say. He is so shaky on so many levels it boggles the
mind. He had to verify which side President Obama was on before he could give
his opposite-to-Obama answer on Libya and then embarrassed himself anyway by showing he had no
clue about an event that just unfolded in the preceding months.
Herman Cain does not appear to be a serious thinker. Yes, he
has risen to be a CEO and has accumulated wealth and this is commendable.
However, after you’ve arrived and not many of your fellow travellers have been
able to replicate what you’ve done, please don’t say that racism doesn’t hold
anybody back in a big way. There are many successful blacks, overwhelmingly in
sports and entertainment, so what to make of those still struggling to get a
toe hold on the first rung of the ladder. Minorities may get a job
(note the colour spectrum at entry level) but as we ride the elevator to the
middle management offices and on to the corner offices of the CEOs, the colour
spectrum fades almost to white so we can’t discount racism.
I have no problem with Herman Cain being a Conservative as
we all can’t be enlightened LiberalsJ.
I have a problem with him seeming to willingly give aid and comfort to his
overwhelmingly white audiences when he says the things for them in the public
realm they would probably like to say but can’t.
Herman Cain, there is a name for you and it is “NOT PRESIDENTIAL
MATERIAL”.
I was born to older parents and although I had a wonderful
relationship with them, as a teenager, I sometimes wished they were younger
like the parents of most of my friends. I usually wished for this especially
about my mother, when she said no to a request to go out with said friends.
I thought my mother old-fashioned for not allowing me to just
go wherever my friends and I thought it was our right to be. In my immature
mind, my mother said no because she was old and had no clue about modern life.
Don’t get me wrong; she didn’t say no to every demand but to
me, it seemed just to those that would have been the most exciting. Young, with-it mothers let their daughters
have fun; mine was a party-pooper. I
promised myself that when I had kids, they could go wherever they wanted. I
won’t be cramping their style like my mother did mine.
Then I had three daughters and guess what? I said no to some
of their requests and it wasn’t because I was old; I’d had them all by age 26.
It was because it became apparent that saying no to children when you deem it
necessary is more a manifestation of love than saying yes to all their desires
and giving in to their every whim.
I’m sure it was no bed of roses for my mother dealing with a
teenager while in her fifties and she probably wondered if she was doing the
right thing. It is said with maturity
comes wisdom and I am thankful for the mother I had and I appreciate her desire
to protect me by saying no.`
In the end, I truly am my mother’s daughter. In raising my
daughters, saying no at times was the best thing I could do for them. Do they
believe this? I’m sure they do but the acknowledgment will come when they have
their own children and have to say no.
Every Friday morning, my neighbour and I shop at our local
farmers’ market.
It takes me back to my childhood when my mother and I went
to the huge market to buy fresh produce, meat and fish. The grocery was for
staples like rice and flour. We knew the produce was pulled from the soil or
picked the day before or early that morning.
I loved to see the displays: piles of carrots, okras, beets, beans,
bunches of scallions, thyme and marjoram, hot peppers, limes, golden apples,
bananas, plantains, huge avocados, breadfruit, yams, eddoes, cassava, oh I
could go on.
Brussels Sprouts
Farmers’ markets use this simple way of displaying our food.
No well-scrubbed produce wrapped in plastic with all outer leaves and roots
trimmed. These displays are pleasing to the eye and remind us of what our food
really looks like.
If I’m going to shop at the farmers’ market, I want real
farmers not the wannabes who show up with onions in bags declaring, Product of
the U.S.A. or with cucumbers wrapped tightly in plastic or with stickers on the
peppers or with products out of season locally. These are food terminal farmers
and I bypass them. Plus anyone who puts soft-skinned fruit, heavier than berries,
in those slotted plastic containers that damage the fruit unlucky to be on the
bottom, need to attend farming 101 on how to handle delicate fruit. I want the real thing, otherwise I might as
well go the supermarket.
Carrots from Farmers' Market
Who can resist perfectly formed nectarines or blushing
peaches or crisp pears? The tomatoes, oh the tomatoes that taste as tomatoes
should. Green beans,broccoli and brussels sprouts. Carrots, beets and
potatoes covered in dirt. Jams and jellies that remind you of homemade. The
honey man. Corn that I will cook in
their husks. Lettuces of all types with
bits of dirt still clinging to the leaves and celery, cabbage with their outer
leaves. The pie lady where a plum donut was my treat, the melon stall where I
tasted and bought my first yellow watermelon. The varieties of squash and
pumpkins not found in stores, the deli couple from whom I bought sausages, the
poultry/egg man. Recently, it`s been
cider I can`t go home without and the market was the first place I ever saw a
fresh hazelnut (looks like an interesting insect); the things we learn.
I also love to see buyers lugging bushel baskets and big
bags of tomatoes and imaging the lovely sauces being made. Note to self: Next year, start making friends
in the market.
It’s interesting how much money I spend at the market on a
weekly basis that I would never spend in the store. Can’t resist all that
glorious freshness. If you think about it, the farmers` market is not the place
for an empty-nester, single lady to shop but I buy anyway and make the most of
my purchases. My girls appreciate the mid-week meals they can take to their
homes.
Inspired by the fresh produce in the market, I did something
I`ve not done in years, I canned or maybe nowadays it`s jarred. I made pickles
(cukes & mushrooms), two types of plum jam (golden and purple) and will be
making hot pepper jelly in a day or so.
Of course, one jar of each item is best put aside for testing purposes.
Only two more weeks left but I have my jars of deliciousness
to tide me over to spring, if they last that long,
Have you ever attended a family event, took a look around
and suddenly realized you’ve hit the peak and you are on the way down the other
side of that mountain called aging? When did this inevitable decent begin?
I recently attended a cousin’s wedding. Let me clarify that
statement; the wedding of my first cousin’s daughter. At such functions we see family members we
haven’t seen, well, since the last family gathering, be it a joyous or sad
occasion. After the hugs, kisses and back pats, getting one of my earrings
caught in someone’s shawl, you know, the usual greetings, I looked around at my
cousins and friends; and it dawned on me and to be honest, not for the first
time, but it really banged into my brain with a vengeance that we have replaced
our parents.
Was it just a few years ago we were attending parties and having
a fabulous time, eating our “back home” food and dancing to hot, hot music? Any
kids we had were at home with a sitter or not yet a gleam in anyone’s eye. We
were stylish, we were fresh, there wasn’t a grey hair in sight, (well even now
not so much), we were about a quarter of the way up that mountain and I’m sure
thought this will be the position in which we will remain. We will never be
like our parents who had become staid.
Life has a way of setting our priorities. School concerts, dance
and music lessons, guides and choir performances replaced many of our own social activities.
Of course we still went to the occasional party but they were no longer the
frenetic showcases of our youth. Being on parade no longer was as appealing and
family get-togethers were a bit sedate. Backyard barbeques became the go to thing. Any dancing occurred as the older cousins and
their spouses started hitting milestone birthdays and throwing parties to
celebrate and as their children started to marry, exactly as our parents did
when we were young.
I looked around the wedding reception at the vanguard of
older cousins all the way back to the younger ones, sitting and chatting around the tables. On
the dance floor were their younger children and grandchildren. We had replaced
our parents, so like it or not, we are now standing on the side of the mountain
where they once stood. How about we dance just a little bit more cause life rolls on just too quickly.
It’s finally raining. Cold drizzles after a week of
summer-like weather that saw shorts, capris, sun dresses and sandals back in
vogue after being put away for warmer togs. Patios were back in business and
people-watching was the thing to do again. My family piled their plates high
and ate Thanksgiving dinner on our patio and sat out, having fun, late into the
night with the help of citronella candles, to annoy the bugs, retrieved from storage.
The patio chair cushions have now been put away along with
the garden art. The last of the habanero peppers have been picked. The bushes
have been trimmed, vines pulled down from the walls and fences, the annuals
have been pulled and will become compost. The urns in the front of the house
are now sporting yellow mums. Spring bulbs have been planted, perennials
divided and replanted in different areas and the grass, fertilized and reseeded.
The
birdbath remains through all seasons and the pond spitter will be unplugged
when the cold weather settles in.
Yellow-tinged Hosta
Yet, I gaze out at my garden and see the beauty of this
wondrous season, autumn. I see the black soil where a few weeks ago plants were
blooming. I see the fence, cleared of this year’s trumpet vine and now ready
for regrowth in the spring. I look at the bare walls were ivy and more vines grew; where tiny birds roosted at night. I look at the plants that come
into their glory at this time of year: the fall asters, the absolutely gorgeous,
will soon be living-up-to-its-name, burning bush, the scraggly mum that is
being crowded out of its space but continues to sprawl across the grass in its
pink glory, yellow tinged hostas and surprisingly, a brave Shasta daisy, all
alone on its bush.
This is my favourite season. I love the change of pace, the
cooler temperatures, the bittersweet feel of the garden. Yes, leaves are
starting to fall, foliage is dying back but underneath the soil, there’s work
in progress for that promise of renewal that never disappoints; the promise of
spring.
I will never understand people`s obsession with the sexual
orientation of others. Why the concern about whose plumbing goes where?
What impels someone to make a concerted effort to preach,
protest, denigrate or even assault another person because that person is
attracted to their own sex? It’s madness. Imagine rising each day with hatred in your heart and a compulsion to tell gays they are going straight to hell for their “lifestyle”. Did you
choose your sexual orientation? Well, neither did they.
It is disturbing to hear Blacks speak offensively about gays and rail against gay marriage. Remember when you were fighting for your civil rights? Was not too long ago and now you think it is right to deny others their rights. Enlighten me as to why a significant
number of this world`s population should not have all the rights and benefits
accorded to others. It seems in most parts of the world, gays are under constant
threat of beatings and even death. In 2009, an article in Time asked if Jamaica is: The Most Homophobic Place on Earth?Law
makers in Uganda tried to enact an anti-gay law that could see the death penalty for some acts. Thankfully, it failed.
Not An Option
You may wish to cite the Bible as proof being gay is wrong. If you go this route, I suggest you read all the laws appearing with the one you like to quote and ask yourself if one of God`s laws is to be obeyed, why not obey them all? I am sure you would not want to be labelled a hypocrite who practises buffet Christianity.
How will allowing gay people to marry destroy traditional marriage? You know, the whiz-bang job being done by straight people with no divorce, no separation, no re-marriage; just a shining example for
gays to follow. I have never figured this one out.
To those in the pulpit, you embarrass yourselves by preaching hate
instead of love, compassion and understanding.
Shaming gay congregants to go against their true self never ends well. Gay adults deserve to be free and not on the down low while in marriages to keep the façade that they are straight. Let people be who they are. To parents who ridicule, abuse and wash their hands of their children,
what do you think will happen to your gay teens
when they hit the streets? These children belong in the safety of their families. Loving them would be so much easier for all.
I have gay relatives and friends and we interact in the same
way as my straight relatives and friends. We are here on this earth for such a short time, it should be better spent understanding and caring about each other than in creating pain. Live
and let live is a nice attitude to cultivate.
Christians, try to be more like the compassionate Jesus of the gospels
and less like the vengeful God of the Old Testament. Remember what Mahatma Gandhi said, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.“
After listening to a call-in radio show on sweet potato
vines and strange things unearthed in the garden, I decided to pay attention to
what I may find in two of my front garden urns whilst removing said vines and
other annuals to plant mums.
I pulled out the vines, found many long roots and decided to
dig deeper. I removed as much soil as I
could and started feeling and digging around the urns with a small garden fork.
Imagine my surprise when I uncovered a regular
size potato and a few smaller ones. In
one urn, I couldn’t get the potatoes out intact as they were growing in the
decorative curvature of the urn so I had to break them up to remove them.
Seeing my fancy front yard urns are great for showing off
the vines but offer no room for tubers, I have already decided to plant sweet potato
vines in my backyard pots where they’ll have plenty of room to get as big as
they want. I am already imaging the yield a year from now. Talk about being optimistic.
You shall reap what you sow and sometimes what you didn’t realize
you sowed.
As I listened to an interview on a radio show about the
effect of certain tracks of music in that person’s life, bittersweet memories
flooded over me on how I was affected by a piece of music.
When my marriage started falling apart, my three daughters
were still very young. Only the eldest had started school so my days were very
busy taking care of them, cooking, baking, doing laundry, cleaning and running out
for groceries.
At night, however, it was a different story. After putting
the girls to bed, I had loads of time to think about my dying marriage. I would
sit on the couch eating ice-cream and dwell on the behaviour of my straying
husband. I would wonder what was wrong with me that he would want to be out pursuing
other women instead of building a strong bond with his wife and little girls. I
pondered what I could do differently to change things. I would sit there
feeling sad, dejected and defeated wondering what was to become of my children
and me.
During this bleak period, I heard Gloria Gaynor’s song, I will Survive. I was so inspired by those
lyrics that I bought the album. I would sing along and dance around the apartment.
So after feeling for a long time like something the dog rolled in, bit by bit I
started to feel good about myself and to think clearly about my future, a
future that did not include my husband. I started planning my exit. He decided
we should move from the apartment to a townhouse where I stayed for nine months
before finally moving into a townhouse in a new area with my girls.
I realized now I had to go through that dark, self-pitying
period in order to understand I had the inner strength to rise above what I had
no control over, i.e. my husband’s behaviour, and look for solutions to move
forward with my life.
It’s been many years. My girls are now adults pursuing
professional careers. They were raised with lots of love and I couldn’t be more
proud of them. Sure there were rough patches but in the end, the four of us
survived and I like to think Gloria Gaynor, belting out I Will Survive, inspired me to take control of my life.
Help! I am popping these green-end banana candies like they`re
going out of style. What is it about them that makes me go against my better
judgement and eat so many?I can`t seem to help
myself.
Banana Candy
Okay, I can bypass them when I go to the store and I`ve
tried. I don`t know if you`ve ever eaten
this candy but they are sooo good. They`re not too sweet, have the right dusting
of sugar, the colours are a nice light yellow with one green end, the texture
is soft and chewy and the taste, divine. No icky aftertaste, no gaudy colours,
not too sweet and no residue getting stuck in my teeth.
Early morning walks to stay fit and healthy and eating this candy with abandon are definitely not compatible so I`ll try to control my candy addiction.
First thing after eating this last batch, I promise, not to go cold turkey, but to buy fewer
and keep them out of sight (having them in a jar on the bar is not helpful). I'm not banishing
them from my life, just being sensible. Everything in moderation.
Some love candy corn, others love jelly beans but I LOVE banana
candies.
The older I get the faster time goes by or so it seems. Here
we are in September. The better part of the year is behind us and in no time
it’ll be Thanksgiving, Halloween, Christmas and another new year will be upon
us.
As a child, Christmas and any exciting event I looked
forward to appeared to take forever to come around. I remember how long it took
for the school year to end and the long vacation to start. Oh how I lamented that
whatever I was waiting on was taking just too long. If only I were not in such a hurry to move
time along but that’s the child’s way, anxious for time to fly.
Thinking about time flying is a good time to take a look at my
goals for the year, see what’s on track and what needs to be readjusted or
carried into the new year.
Morning
Walks– Still part of my routine but done infrequently
during the summer months when it becomes hot very early in the mornings. I`m back
on track now that cooler mornings are here.
Volunteer– Did this for a few months at a food bank. There
was a change of management, I followed-up but did not hear from them. Looking into volunteering with teen mothers.
Once a
Month Family Dinner– Started off great but missed a few months.
We have decided to consider picnics we attended on a Sunday in July and August
as family dinners just not in my home. Works for me. Looking forward to getting together in the
following months.
Learn
Father’s Family History– Thought this would be an easy task working
with my Aunt Millie, my father’s sister. Sent off a list of questions with a
SASE to make it easy for her but she called to say she cannot remember details
like before. I didn’t want her to be stressed about it so asked her to
disregard the request. She gave me the name of the plantation from our past so
I hope to use this information to help with research in the archives.
Maintain my
Home– Easiest goal to keep going since I like a neat
home. Closets do get out of whack only because there’s too much in them. I`m also maintaining my garden. Just need to spend more time sitting and
enjoying it.
Socialize
with Girlfriends– Apart from spending more time with my
neighbour such as going to the farmers’ market every Friday morning, I’ve not
seen much of my other girlfriends this year. Something we lamented. Just couldn’t
seem to get everyone together to go to ribfest
or other events. We definitely
have to work on this.
Meet a Nice
Man for Companionship– Although someone from my past is visiting
and I like his company, this is not the relationship I expect to have so I
continue to keep my options open as well as my eyesJ
Say Yes
More Often – The best kept goal so far. I went to a picnic I hadn’t
attended in 20 years and had a lot of fun. As well as a similar but smaller one
and also had a good time. Attended the CNE after approximately 25 years and
went on rides although not crazy ones. Went to the lake, walked by the river,
and attended a few events at a cultural centre 45 minutes away. Tons more fun
saying yes.
Travel at
Least Twice– For business and pleasure – Travelled once for
pleasure but expect the business portion to be accomplished next year.
Grow My
Business– There were a few setbacks that had to be overcome.
Complete changes were made and I can say although I was mad about what
transpired at the beginning, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the
technology is current and I am very happy with the results. Had a successful
party and launch and looking forward to great things.
Watching the video clip from the Dark Girls documentary truly hurts to my inner core. It hurts because as a people, we seem to be devolving while other races are evolving.What the hell is wrong with us? How can we perpetuate this nonsense into the 21st century? Back in the ‘60s we shouted: “Black is Beautiful”, but obviously that was just a slogan. It looks like we didn’t buy into the reality of it all.
I look at these women in the clip, some of them in middle age, and the hurt remains with them.When we should be supporting and encouraging each other we find ways to hurt. Are we brainless? We excuse this behavior by saying it’s a remnant of slavery when progeny of the slave master and slave were deemed better and ranked higher than the 100% black slaves. Hence the deferential treatment back in the day. For God’s sake, we have moved beyond this period in time. We have had time to evaluate what we hold dear and what defines us as African descendants.
How dare a mother describe all the features she likes about her little daughter but then lash her with the comment, “if only she any lightness in her skin, she’d be gorgeous.” Where is the pride of race? How could you even form a thought like this furthermore give it voice, making your daughter feel like she is somehow inadequate because of the colour of her skin? What negative racial stereotypes are being reinforced in our children so when a black child is shown a series of images from light to dark and is asked to point out the ugly child and the bad child, she picked the picture of the darkest image?This is disturbing.
How much longer will we do this? To the lighter hued man who said he does not like dark skin girls: If you take a trip back in time, do you think you could like your Black fore-parents who toiled on the plantations? Or would you be embarrassed by them and embrace the master who enslaved them? Here’s a little secret, when we denigrate each other, not only do we give comfort to those who dislike us, we look like damn jackasses. We also make it known that to us, all other races are better than we are and we, to be better, need a splash of cream in the coffee to be as good as other races.
Instead of pulling each other down and seeing ugliness in our skin colour and natural hair, we need to do some serious introspection and grow to hell up. Our behavior is so infantile it is embarrassing. I acknowledge skin tone issues transcend cultures. There are cultures that won’t be caught dead in the sun without an umbrella because sun-kissed skin would render them too dark.Others opt to have eyelid surgery to appear Caucasian and some Caucasians use enhancers to plump lips and other body parts. Yes, skin tone and body image are issues across races however, we seem to take the obsession and self-loathing to new heights. Until we look deeply within ourselves to understand why we dislike what we see reflected back in the mirror, we will continue along this path of self-loathing and destruction.
Don’t tell me we are still suffering for the affects of slavery. Slavery happened; don’t ever forget it did but it’s time to kick this damn crutch out from under us, stand straight and face reality. It’s time to start seeing the beauty of Black people and loving, encouraging and supporting each other.If we choose to remain in this negative mode, we have to look no further for the negative results than in the video clip.
I love my people but I am much aggravated by our negative behaviours. I must believe that at some point, to avoid further descent into irrelevance, we will believe we can no longer have negative history dictate how we see ourselves. Black is Beautiful.
Credits: Directed by Bill Duke and D. Channsin Berry
Produced by Bill Duke for Duke Media
and D. Channsin Berry for Urban Winter Entertainment
Co-Produced by Bradinn French
Line Produced by Cheryl L. Bedford
Edited by Bradinn French
Take a look at the picture accompanying this piece. What do you see? Several beautiful colours? At a glance, could you tell what this is and how the colours were formed?
Last week, it was raining as usual and stepping out of the car, I saw these beautiful colours forming, with the flow of water, across that part of the lot. It looked like a work of art and in some perverse way, it was. Of course I had to snap it with my phone.
What caused this beautiful creation? Oil; it was an oil sheen created by a thin layer of oil floating on top of the water and spreading across the lot by the rain. This image does not capture the full beauty of the colours; blue, green, gold, lilac, pink, purple and the shifting shapes as it flowed.
On a wet, dreary day when I just wanted to hurriedly complete my errand and return home, I found beauty in a strange place, oil sheen in the parking lot of a huge wholesale warehouse.
Today is sunny. Yesterday was sunny. Tomorrow’s forecast is rain, just what we've had for most of this spring.
After a long winter, we look forward to sunshine, with strategically placed (never on the weekend) spring showers of course, to brighten our mood and feed our soul. It’s difficult to maintain being in a funk when the sun is shining but on rainy, dull days, we can feed that funk into a raging greyness. No wonder many of us look forward to that week in March when we head south to bask in sunshine.
Yesterday, I cut the grass so my lawn could look a bit more civilized. Because of fertilizer and constant rain, it was starting to look a lot like an undisturbed nature preserve and I was beginning to wonder if small animals were taking up residence. Today, I'll remove weeds from the stone edging.
We have been promised a sunnier, drier summer and after a very soggy spring, I’m looking forward to some heat. That is, until it gets too hot and then we’ll be reminding each other of the beautiful, cool, showery spring that was so good for the garden. You know it’s true.J
It’s been awhile since I wrote more than 140 characters. You see, some time back, I decided to blog, join Facebook and Twitter. I envisioned blogging every day with occasional visits to Facebook and Twitter but to my surprise, I took to Twitter like a duck to water; I think I’ve even become addicted since I check it out on my iphone when lying in bed.
My Twitter use really took off during the last federal election campaign. Finding who to follow, instant information from newspapers and blogs I would never have found on my own and reading people’s personal opinions added an exciting dimension to the election. I enjoyed it all even when the election results were not what I wanted.
I’ve always enjoyed the latest technology and can remember when I bought our first computer and was not even sure what I was supposed to do to make it work. I remember our first VCR and how excited we were to have it now we can watch movies online. I remember buying Nintendo for my girls and how excited they were. I love playing Wii games when I visit my daughter Sharon and her husband Mark.
I love social media. It’s an excellent way to stay connected and young at heart if not in body. It’s nice to be aware of what others are talking about when words like Twitter, iphone and Facebook are mentioned Life is moving rapidly and we need to keep up or be left by the wayside wondering what the heck happened.
Freshly fallen snow crunching under foot. Fat snowflakes floating gently down, clinging to toques and eyelashes. Trees and shrubs arrayed in white finery. Kids frolicking in the snow. White as far as you can see. These are the postcard images of a perfect winter; the one we all love before the plows and salt trucks rumble by.
Not all snowfalls are of a romantic nature, lending themselves to long walks. Some are downright nasty with icy pellets whipping against the skin and some are heavy, wet and backache-inducing when shoveling it out of our way.
For many, snow only on Christmas day would be perfect. After that, the remaining winter months without their white cloak would be even better. Thankfully, winter has its cheerleaders. They embrace winter activities with a passion. They take to the ski hills and where ever a smooth, icy surface can be found and others just accept it quietly, looking forward to the warming days that signal spring is coming.
Although winter is not my favourite season, fall is, I still get out and enjoy it. I walk every morning except when it is extremely cold or icy and I especially like walking during the picture postcard snowfalls. That’s when winter’s at its best and I usually take my camera to capture the beauty around me. Hope you enjoy the photos.
“Winter is the season in which people try to keep the house as warm as it was in the summer, when they complained about the heat.” ~Author Unknown
Don’t get me wrong, I love winter and right now, snow is gently falling and it’s beautiful. When the snow turns grey and slushy and there’s not much sunlight, I, like many others, become a bit forlorn and start thinking of better weather. To help me through the funk, I think about and look at photos of my garden.
I remember what it was like when we first moved into this house many years ago. It was a new development and a blank canvas; my landscape was just grass and a tree. Here was my opportunity to splash colour on that canvas; I could do whatever I wanted, I was the mistress of my domain. I pored over gardening brochures, looked through gardening books, bought more gardening books, watched gardening shows on HGTV, spent too much time at gardening centres and visited friends with established gardens who happily shared their plants. Another thing I did was what I like to call, “rock picking”.On weekends, I would drag the girls to side roads and construction sites to find nice size rocks to use around the garden beds I was creating for the fabulous landscape I envisioned. They were not thrilled then but we laugh about it now.
Our area has clay soil so it had to be emended. I hauled a lot of manure, topsoil, peat moss and mulch. I even set up a compost bin.In the beginning, I fell in love with every plant and planted as many as I could but eventually reality bit and I realized I had to be practical and add plants that would do well in this environment. I’ve managed to have trees and shrubs (evergreen and deciduous), ground cover, vines (on the fence and side walls), spring bulbs, grasses, flowering and non-flowering (well not showy) perennials and a small pond.
Overtime my garden has evolved. The tiny spruce trees that I could decorate easily at Christmas are now towering over the garden.Some plants have become invasive and have to be dug out and restricted. A few did poorly after their sunny spot became shady and had to be moved to another part of the garden. Some just did not survive, like the torch flower I loved. The bare spots that were filled in with annuals are now full of perennials and annuals are now placed in urns and pots for that extra splash of colour.
I think I did well with the mix of plantings to ensure interest in the garden throughout the seasons; from crocuses, tulips, daffodils, forsythia, lilacs, bleeding heart and other spring blooming plants through to day lilies, purple coneflowers, astilbe, Shasta daisies, black-eyed susans, phlox, yarrow, evening primrose and more in summer to asters, sedum and burning bush in fall. One thing though, I’ve never grown roses; meant to but never did.
Much of my time in the garden is now spent, not in planting as in previous years, but in maintenance. There is much pruning to be done to keep the shrubs in check, weeding and watering. I still amend the soil and occasionally when I’m at a garden centre and see an interesting plant, I’ll try to find a spot for it. Last summer I found curly grass; couldn’t resist running my fingers through it. I bought a few, put them in the urns and then added annuals; I loved the look.
It’s a small space (back and front) but I like what my garden has become not just to me, family and friends but to the assortment of birds, butterflies and bees that visit the birdbath and flowers; the squirrels running along the fence or getting a drink from the birdbath. I once watched one industrious little squirrel run back and forth in the front garden, gathering leaves to build a nest in one of the trees. A cat sometimes comes up to the back door causing my kitties to go into frenzy. It’s even hard to stay mad at the raccoons that constantly dragged the water lily out of the pond and ate the water hyacinths.
Gardening is great therapy. When I am digging in the soil, planting or re-potting, cutting the grass, trimming the hedge, spreading mulch or manure, watering or just simply being in the garden, there is no room for negative thoughts.I become excited seeing the new shoots poking through the snow in spring, the beautiful colours of the flowers, the changes to the garden as the seasons progress and when winter is beginning to seem a bit too long, I look at photos of my garden and smile in anticipation.
"Cares melt when you kneel in your garden." Unknown
"An addiction to gardening is not all bad when you consider all the other choices in life." Unknown
"Spring is nature's way of saying, "Let's party!"-- Robin Williams
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