Friday, 22 June 2018

"What doooo you do all day?!?"

Dear Everyone,

How y'all doing?

No, better question...what y'all doing?

For some reason, it does bug people here that they don't know what I do all day. Because, a woman who ain't married don't have nothing to do.

One gal even get upset and ask me in a' almost angry tone, "What doooo you do all day?!?"

Y'know...women here only live to take care of man and children.

"Is only you one, what you got to do so whole day?"

I does want to say, "Well, I does pick me toenails, scrub me heels, I cook and eat whole day."

The 'cook and eat' part they wouldn't believe though, cos I small.

For some reason, if I say I taking care of me health, it does bug people. Like, that is a selfish thing, taking care of y'self...you supposed to be checking up on them, calling them, visiting.

The truth is exactly this though...I been taking care of me...that is, me health.

I learn a good-good lesson these past months after I get sick, asthma, the works.

The whole time while I been sick, I only do the basics.  And I fall into the social media hole, scanning this, scanning that, watching other people play, create, talk, laugh......

Then I realise, Eh-eh, this ain't good at all, at all.

I pick up meself, dust off, and make a list. As some of we here say, Dheeray-dheeray...bit by bit...I start to feel better.

And it dawn on me again that what me best friend in the Whole Wide World say is true. Health should be a priority.

Now, I editing with me heart and soul, walking, observing...

...I gone to buy yoghurt.









Friday, 20 April 2018

FOOOOOOOOD!!

Dear Everybody,

I live in a constant state of 'mouth-watering'.

Blame it on the neighbours. From they apartments, I does smell bread, chicken, steak, potatoes, coconut-milk, fish frying... 

I go for a walk, I smell beef curry, chicken curry, cook-up...which is rice and black-eye peas and beef and other stuff in coconut-milk.

Yeah, I know, I don't eat meat cos I can't digest it, but me stomach can't tell me nose what to enjoy, eh? (I ain't a vegan, and I don't believe in stopping people from eating what they want to eat).

(On another note...in the future, when vegans start passing laws left, right and center, perfume-houses gon make scents that smell like food. Imagine. Eau de Beef...it might even be red). 

I become such a connoisseur, tasting food via me nose, I can smell the garlic, basil, tomatoes; the oil in the curry.

I go to the supermarket or the green grocer that sell fancy imported food, and I walk up and down looking at labels and drooling, then I only buy one, two items. No wonder them security chaps does eye me up with suspicion.

Tomorrow is market-day.

Check out some o' the things I does buy:
A fruit. Sour. Make refreshing drink.

Snack-size banana.

Fruit. I suspect from India. Mix apple-flavour with cheese and some crunch...that's it.

Vegetable. Acquired taste but when you acquire it, you start craving for it.
I so hungry, I can't bear to think about food anymore.

Lunch today is fry okro (okra) and daal and rice.

And daz how I does explore the word, Dear People. If I can't go to exotic places, lemme make where I live exotic, eh?

From here to there & every where. Sometimes nowhere. Every day is an adventure.

See you soon on your blog, xoxo.

Saturday, 7 April 2018

The Manual


Dear Friends,

I finally learning to do some new things on this old-new-recycled laptop.

Which make me think how much time and effort it does take to learn this stuff. I just give birth to ten cows trying to learn to upload photos from iPhone to this piece o' metal here.

Which remind me o' the time I wasn't patient with me dear, darlin' old Ma.

Was a time many moons ago, and plane rides to and from Florida, and flu...flues...viral infection and pillows and a big bed...

... and many cowboy pikchas also known as Westerns in Civilised Language...



...I sit down in me mother room in Florida, looking out at the morning mist, wheezing like a geezer with bronchial infection...



...and I hand-write, hand-draw, a manual for me mother on how to use she tablet, noooo, not the tablet you swallow...the one that load you up on to the Internet. Doing this manual, I think, "Aaaah, me mother gon be like them new-style Oldsters, hip and zipping in Cyber-Space."

To cut a long story short.

She learn how to find songs on YouTube. And how to call people.

But the autocorrect correct she into submission.

Nothing don't defeat me mother though.

She say, "Text you' brother and ask he what time he gon be home so I can call he."

And me, the caring daughter, go into conniptions. Lecturing. Preaching. Trying to teach she how to text.

This year, January 2018, I get a new friend, Epiphany.

Epiphany say, "You! You is a' ungrateful wretch. Remember when you' mother sit on the Internet for two weekends, while you in Guyana and she in Florida, and she teach you how to work out taxes? Remember how you so dunce yet she never once lose she cool with you? What it gon take from you to text you' brother for she? Put that in you' pipe and smoke it, you cow you!"

Shame knock me down for six...

...ooooh, sorry folks, I smelling other people food in this good ol' apartment by the sea, I gone to cook some lunch.......

Now that I know how to get photies on this laptop, we gon have a li'l bit o' fun.

From here to there and everywhere. Sometimes nowhere. Every day is an adventure.
xoxo




Saturday, 10 February 2018

Well, hello Sunshine!

Dear Everybaddy,

How y'all doing?

Here me is, back home, dodging bandits, rain, cow poo and squash-up, mash-up, flatten-up frogs on de road.  If you want gory details about the frogs, email me.

I got a li'l secret. Don't tell nobody. Promise me, swear with a clean tongue on you' right hand, left hand and heart.

I workin' on me 3rd book, which I hope to publish first. I working on a Guyana series which gon move on to...well, never mind...this gon be the first.

It is about a gal with she mother, how they struggle to communicate, how they get along, how the gal is a botheration daughter trying to be a good daughter. The book gon include all the people who move in and out and back into they life, like, y'know, real-life.

It gon make you laugh, and hopefully, it gon make you think. Best of all though, it might make you look at the people in you' life in a positive kinda way.

Next time I write, I gon tell you how this good daughter wasn't good one day, 'til she come home and realise she mistake.....

What y'all up to?

I got to go to the market but rain pouring like bucket got holes.



Wednesday, 20 December 2017

Flor'da time again.

The sun called...

The cat hid, waiting to rush outside (not allowed).

Flor'da got MILLIONS of this!!! No, no, I ain't exaggerating!

Who ain't like morning sunshine, eh?

I want to teef this :-D

Nature weaving.

Obsessessed.







Then the cold front came for nearly a week.

People!!

How y'all does do it?  How y'all does get warm when de chill wind blow? 

Monday, 4 December 2017

The pen.

Dear Reader,

I was recently challenged by Kim (photographer) to do a series of black and white photos. (Long story, short...it was a meme on social media).

Well, I thought, why not share, via, these pictures, my passion for the written word and the basic tool? 


I am intrigued by how this simple object can pass on messages, tell stories from centuries ago; with it, we can share the abstract...our thoughts, ideas, things we imagine.

It's a tool that can cut away all the lies, the vile deeds of human beings and reveal the truth.  Yet, it can be used to cause pain, create fear. It can make rulers decimate millions of human beings. One signature...voops...an entire people...gone.

And in the right hands, it can heal the entire world.  

Great writers have  used it to lift our spirits...

The good men of ancient days have used it to guide us towards the better path.

Artists then, as today, have used the pen to teach us too.

The pen, you see, can be used to take us to the inner landscape of ourselves, leading us from our dark selves, to that place where we can find the light.

Dear Friends, y'see? We have been given so much to help us learn to live better lives, to be better people. We don't need more clothes, more shoes, bigger houses, faster cars.

Most of us have all we need, and can share.
xxx

Friday, 27 October 2017

Eighty one.

Dear America,

You have within your arms one of the most wonderful storytellers in the world.



According to my first big brother, when dis fella tell a story, you can see them chopped up snakes flying in de air.  You can feel dat jumbie, dat ghost, brush against your skin, and you will freeze with fright.



He once described to me a shoal of fish feeding and birds flying in the air. I swear, I was not in the kitchen that morning.  I was out in the fresh air, hearing the birds call, seeing the water bubbling, I could feel the breeze blow against my skin, warm with the sun, yet cool.

He was the outdoor one who took us children fishing, down-creek, up-creek, he drove us to places that were exotic to little country-side children.


Please take good care of him, America. He is a treasure.  He is my father's little brother, my dearest, dearest uncle.  He is eighty-one today.