Sunday, 26 June 2022
Sunday, 19 June 2022
Me lovely Friends and all o' you passing through,
In times o' disaster, you can learn something good. Tell me if I wrong.
Last Sunday, as I go to write on me blog, me ole Back Up Laptop In Case The One I Writing On Die (also known as BULICTOIWOD), it die.
Before that, the First One That I Been Writing On, it go phuuuut in 2020.
Good thing I had the BULICTOIWOD, flash drives. I immediately go into action and continue smooth-smooth like them chaps in Mission Impossible.
But, like I say, the BULICTOIWOD go to black screen.
And I ain't had a BULICTOIWOD 2 to work on.
That, dear Friends, is how the something good happen.
Me nephew, 22 years old, accompany me to the computer store and help me to choose a new one that fit me budget; he help me to find a' external hard drive too.
Last Sunday gon stay in me folder o' Happy Memories.
On the way to the store and back home, me and he gyaff. He tell me about he studies, he plans, and he convince me to look at Anime shows; he tell me how he feel it can benefit me creatively.
As he talk, I listen.
In the silent spaces, as I watch the sun light on them trees, me mind open files, click-click, look...
...li'l baby, huge, dark eyes in sweet brown face and a smile that make me want to pick he up whole day...
...me and he watching the Indian film Lagaan, playing hide and seek. Me reading Good Night Moon to he 'til I get hoarse. I talk Creolese to he sometimes, and he understand...
...he high pitch voice, he pronounce 'r' like 'w': "We'we going to see Bwotha Beaw."
This file is blank.
He grow up and move way.
I let it be, I let he go, but I miss the link.
'Til last Sunday.
I store last Sunday in me folder.
I got 4 more nephews and one niece with siblings, and plenty more thanks to cousins. I would love, one day, to full up me Happy Memories with the ones who want to connect.
Have a happy week making connections, dear Friends, open the door to you, make space in you' heart. I read this thing about love somewhere...that no matter how many people you love, you heart never run outta space.
Take care, stay well, plenty lurve, neena xx.
Monday, 6 June 2022
Dear Friends, tell me the honest-truth...
...what you think about railway tracks in a sunny, rural place where nobody seem to be?
In me mind, I see songs like Ramble Tamble by Creedence. I see men and women stowing away to freedom, hiding in cabins full o' cargo.
(We useta have trains in my lovely native land, but they disappear...that is a story for another day).
In this foreign land, when the afternoon sun shine hot and hazy, that time o' day back home when school is out and school children tumble out into the streets, I head down to the railway track not far from here.
Cars zip past, sometimes a driver smile and wave, then is only me, the sun and them things I stop to see.
To the bored eye, it ain't have nothing.
But for me, the road is a full-on nature ramble where me mind fly free.
|In The Island, they call this Poor Man's Orchid.|
|Back home, this is jumbie beads. (Jumbie...ghost). Craft people make jewellery with them.|
|Garland of leaves.|
|Road to the railway track.|
|A wall of flowers.|
|Wild flowers. Why do we want to kill them?|
|A side track.|
|Near the neglected orange grove.|
|The oranges in the grove, neglected, harden.|
|Well, hello there!|
|I cross the road and come across this bouquet. Why do we want to kill wild flowers?|
|Heading back home.|