Friday, 28 January 2022

Teething pains.

My dear Friends and new Visitors,

Welcome.

How y'all doing?

I been listening to The Experts who say that writers must have newsletter, webpage, landing page, to promote writing business. 

So, this week, after a li'l teething pain with this new bit of tech thing, this is what I create for a landing page:

Neena Maiya, author.

And yesterday, guess where I been!

More about this later!

I got to go and cook lunch.

I dunno what to cook!

Cheerio.

Have a lovely weekend. Plenty love, neena xxx.

Friday, 21 January 2022

When the chips are done!

My dear Friends,

It look like the whole world gone dramatical. 

I don't think it is because of covid itself. Disasters generally bring out the worst in many people, and some just plain love drama. Who need Hollywood, Bollywood, Nollywood, Pollywood? Real life is one big soap opera and everybody trying to steal the show. 

You know what the problem is?

All them dramatical people never had plantain chips. Or those who love it, run out of it.

I am telling you the good, hornest truth! This is what happen for sure.

Plantain chips does smooth the furrowed brow. It calm the heaving breast, soothe the sorry spirit, make the haggledy-paggledy traffic in my lovely native land seem like a nice, fuzzy-wuzzy trip. You stop at the red light and snack on P.C. and! No mo' woes! That minibus driver going vrooom vrooom, paste-ing-up on you' car bumper? Two crunches on a mouthful o' P.C. and you suddenly feel as if the oasis of tranquility flood into you' being, and you begin to believe that that wild beast behind you only want to be bestie.

The other day, I tell my plantain chips loving friends that we should form a club. If other folks can have wine tasting clubs, and whine fiestas, why not a plantain chips club?

Friends, I am now craving P.C.

I can taste it in me mouth, feel it in me belly.

When I get rich and buy me yacht (look, I know to spell it now), I gon have a room devoted to plantain chips from all over the world. Every type and flavour. (Except P.C. sweetened with sugar. I never in me whole born life hear of such a' aberration 'til I visit America. My first big brother complain bitterly about it too. "Who the hell would put sugar on plantain chips?")

All are welcome to join in my salty P.C. fiesta. But not if you want sugar added. If that is you' preference, we gon tell you, very nicely, to go back to where you come from, let the rest of we enjoy we P.C. in peace.

Wishing you peace and love and plenty P.C., my beloved friends. Stay safe, neena xx.

Wednesday, 12 January 2022

Feeling thankful that I wasn't no snack for the 'gator.

My dear friends and lovers of sunshine, 

I did make a promise to my mother that, if I did only break, woulda cause she heart to bruks more bad than the promise.

"We gon go to SoFlo for Christmas and New Year."

South Florider, where she son, me second big brother, live with he family.

Where sun flow, and alligators crawl. 

I don't know what I woulda do if we did encounter any 'gator on we walks. My mother does travel with...that is to say, suffer from...chronic pain, and I can't see she tackling that creature with the fervour of Irwin or Dundee to save me, she precious child. I woulda have to pile she on to she roller-stroller like she in a wheel barrow, and bolt outta there mo' fast than Usain.

In the mornings, while everybody been at work, I sit with Ma in the living-room, she watching tv, me doing creative work, soaking up the sun that pour like warm wine, crunching on the best snack in the whole wide world.

Plantain chips!!!

Ow, me belly bawling, I better cook lunch. No, it ain't 'gator burger.

Have a great day, love, neena xx.