Author: Admin
Understanding…
People can only relate to that which they are capable of understanding…
Understanding is LOVE…
So…Every Day and Every Night…
I try to understand.
– NovaCSA
What really grinds my gears…
It never fails… disagree with someone and their point of view on
Religion…
Politics…
Sex…
Or even FOOD and you can be sure…
The conversation will go down in flames.
Seemingly normal, intelligent people turn
Combative…
Abusive…
And the expression of their point of view turns insulting.
If you are incapable of having a grown-up, intelligent conversation about any of the afore mentioned topics…
Without turning into a bully…
STOP YOURSELF!
Go sit down… and let the grown folks talk.
-NovaCSA
Noah …
June 18, 2012 to September 6, 2012
I loved you for such a small little while…
You came into our lives with a bang, a bundle of energy and adventure…
You kept us all on our toes…
To Jolie you are Baby Noah…
To my mom you are… Little Bit.. and Baby Cat
To me you are just… My Little One… My Baby…
Its funny how easily and how fast pets become a part of us…
Vital and necessary…
Today with every breath my heart is breaking…
Thank you for the love you gave me.
I’ll love you always… goodbye sweetling :-*
Under Construction…
Calm...
Humble...
Patient...
Doing the best I can...
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Edge of Reason…
Soooo I figured out years ago that I am Bridget Jones… awkward… chunky… cute as a button, horribly clumsy and predictably accident prone… Haitian… Bridget Jones. Mind you when I first saw the movie… I watched it all through a decidedly horrified state… kind of like one would watch a car accident, I had mixed emotions… I felt sorry for her, angry at myself for seeing so many similarities between myself and a woman who was just… just… well… there really isn’t a nice way to put it. She was just sad…. pathetic really.
I started taking stock of my life and discovered I didn’t much care for the person I caught looking at me every time I looked in a mirror. She was mean spirited, cautious, angry, and on a sure course to becoming bitter. I didn’t like her very much. Add to that the decidedly ‘Jones’ ish attributes and I was past the realm of disgusted with myself.
I sat down and identified the things about my life I wanted to change… the things I NEEDED to change, and so my journey began. Who has time to be angry ALL of the time!? Not this one. Who has the energy to be concerned with the things people think… the things they say ALL of the time?! Not this one. Who has time to worry about the things they haven’t done, the places they haven’t gone and a love probably never to be realized ALL of the time?! Not this one.
So I took the steps necessary to change my life. DISCIPLINE!!! With food, my attitude, opinions and life. It may sound like a small thing… but I grew up in a house where discipline in the afore mentioned areas was nonexistent. I’d never been a perfectionist but I decided then and there I’d work to be the most perfect version of Nova I could possibly be.
Tonight I sip my cocktail concoction (Neapolitan ice cream, Irish cream liquor, and Vodka) watching Bridget Jones the Edge of Reason… laughing my azz off… Yes… I am definitely a variation of Bridget Jones. Vulnerable, silly, quirky, honest, awkward and beautiful Bridget Jones, let’s face it… Renee Zellweger is a cutie… reminds me of cotton candy and puppies (shrugs) I could do a lot worse lol.
I treat people the way I want to be treated. Give them respect up front and surprise them with laughter. I’m still mean spirited deep down… lol and I pray on it every day… Every Day people… EVERY DAY!!
I’m still cautious… but I realize that a little bit of caution can be a life saver. I just choose not to mislabel caution for fear. I’m afraid like everyone else… I just choose not to be crippled by it. As for the bitterness that was sneaking up on me. Why bother? My hurts are not more important than anyone else’s, my joys are. I’d rather be happy with myself than killing myself to please other people.
I changed my life course 5 years ago. I was definitive in the course of action I wanted to take for the past 3 years, embraced my silent lesbian… YES LESBIAN. I came out to my friends, my family, blah blah blah. Watching my mom struggle with it to this very day is hard. It will always be hard. Every girl wants her mother to see her as a woman she can be proud of. While my mom loves me… with this… I can’t say proud comes to her mind. My friends and even my sister were all supportive… not really surprised at all but VERY supportive.
I figured out that women are just as hurtful as men. Just as mean, just as superficial, demanding, unresponsive and ungrateful, but I think it’s the irrational, unreasonable and unforgiving that gives me the most pause. I’m watching this intelligent, beautiful woman tell BRIDGET JONES how much she loves her. SMH… OF COURSE she does!!! Who wouldn’t? I discovered something new about myself. I’m perfectly lovable for the ones worth MY love. Confused? So was I for a long time LMAO!
I have people tell me all of the time ‘You’re so much happier since you became a lesbian’. To them I say you are mistaken, I’m just happy. I made a lot of life choices all at once. It wasn’t any one thing in particular that turned the tide. I just wanted to KNOW myself… to LOVE myself… whether or not anyone else did. I’m not perfect… just a work of art, a work in progress really… but you have to respect the artist. God doesn’t make mistakes. :-p
SO I’ve adopted the ‘f*ck it’ attitude, I help folks where I can but steer away from their drama… after all I have my own problems. LOL. Side bar about my weight, I read something awesome the other day… “I’ve finally figured out my body type… I’m an Hour Glass with Extra Minutes.” YESSSSSSS! Truer words were never spoken.
My niece asked me recently, “Auntie Sam… do you think you’ll ever get married” to which I replied “I don’t know, but even if I don’t I plan on living my life. I will do all of the things I’ve always wanted to do. Life is too short to wait for someone or something that MIGHT happen.” So I’m working on my credit… paying my bills… and looking at houses. I have 3 cat’s, 1 dog and a pretty Beta Fish named Magick (Work in progress remember?) Lol .While I have an abundance of love to give to someone else I think loving myself is just as important. After all if I don’t love me… who will?
So I’ve rambled… on and on… something I haven’t done in a big long while. VERY therapeutic… lol. Wow its after midnight… and Bridezilla’s is on. CRAZY chicks getting MARRIED!!! Lol, yeah… all of those grooms DESERVE everything they get. Sooo many people choose misery wrapped up in a gorgeous face and a bangin body. it’s just funny to see it all play out. Sorry, guilty pleasure SMH don’t judge me…
Well folks this variation of a chocolate caramel dipped Bridget Jones is signing off, sooooo ,much to do in the coming weeks!! Thank God for Chocolate and Vodka.
– Nova :-*
Exit…
I hear her whisper in the dark… voice sullen and cold.
My eyes stay closed as I strain my ears to listen… to her every breath…
Remembering similar nights spent… counting her heartbeats.
No rhythmic thrumming on this night… our last.
“I can’t…” she begins… “I won’t” I finish.
Just like that… we were over.
I pick my way through the dark… dressing in silence.
Feel her gaze on my silhouette as I slide into my shoes… straining to see my face… maybe catch my eye…
Remembering similar nights spent… holding me close… touching my skin.
No easy sighs of bliss on this night… our last.
“Please stay…” she begins… “I’ll go” I finish.
Just like that… it was over.
I walk quickly through the house… knowing my way by heart.
Eyes burning with unshed tears… throat tight… head beginning to pound…
Remembering similar nights… when you were missed… before you were even gone.
No separation anxiety on this night… the last.
I look back one last time into your home… filled with shadows both seen and unseen… then pull the door closed with a final click.
Standing outside I take in a deep breath… looking up into the night sky… I release all of the tension of the last few weeks on a long and deep sigh.
Shoulders now relaxed… tension leaving my body… lips curved into a reluctant smile…
“Finally….” I whisper to myself with a grin.
I walk toward home… hopeful and relieved… filled with the wonder of possibilities.
– Nova
Tuesday’s Goodnight…
I touch her and it is electric… shocks of heat… like touching her is touching me.
She feels it… her back arches tightly like a cat…
My eyes drift closed and I breathe in the scent of her… sweet… spicy… exotic.
She nestles against me… warm and inviting… and sighs.
I lay back slowly… high from her nearness… as her heart beats against mine.
She touches me and it is electric… shocks of heat… like touching me is touching her.
I feel it… liquid gold between my thighs as her lips rub against mine… hot… pulsing… wet.
Her eyes drift closed as her tongue circles my nipple… mouth to breast… sucking slow… then deep.
I wrap my legs around her… drawing her closer… excited and intent…
She lay on top of me slowly… sinking into my embrace…
I touch her and it is electric… shocks of heat… like touching her is touching me.
She feels it… her skin raised in goose flesh…
My eyes drift open as I glide my lips down her neck… savoring the taste of her… sweet… spicy… exotic.
She thrusts her hips against mine steadily… back and forth… a lazy rhythm that drives me wild.
I roll my hips up to meet her slowly… straining to get ever closer.
She touches me and it is electric… shocks of heat… like touching me is touching her.
I revel in it… sunshine and heaven between her thighs… rub her lips slickly against mine… hot… pulsing… wet.
Her eyes flutter open as she slides her tongue across my breast… lightly nipping at my flesh… coaxing from me a low moan.
I tighten my legs around her waist… drawing her closer still… excited and intent… crying out…
She lay on top of me … slowly rising up in my embrace…
I touch her and it is electric… shocks of heat… like touching her is touching me.
She feels it… her breath reduced to harsh little pants…
My eyes are heavy lidded as I slide my lips over her breast… bathing first one nipple… then the other… at first taking my time….
“Babe…” she growls… heady… and low… I gently tug her nipple into my mouth, answering the demand in her voice… drinking deep and slow.
She thrusts her hips against mine heavily… back and forth… her steady rhythm driving me wild.
I snap my hips to meet her hard and quick…
She touches me and it is electric… shocks of heat… like touching me is touching her.
My body stretches taught as I grasp for relief with a long and keening cry… “Daddy please …” her liquid gold between my thighs.
“Damn”… she gasps her body moving steadily flushed with intent… she kisses me long and deep… rubbing both lips slickly against mine… hot… pulsing… wet.
Our bodies tremble as we fly over the ledge into release, in a flash that feels like dying… she holds me close… millions of stars blooming as she shudders against me in the throes of climax…
I touch her and it is electric… shocks of heat… like touching her is touching me.
She feels it… her back arches tightly like a cat…
My eyes drift closed and I breathe in the scent of her… sweet… spicy… exotic.
She nestles against me… warm and inviting… and sighs.
I lay back slowly… high from her nearness… as her heart beats against mine.
– Nova
Gifted…
Heaven is quiet… night has fallen. The Angels walk softly in silent preparation. God is going for a walk. He’s donned the many faces of man… dressed in ageless street clothes… he is ready.
Deep in thought he methodically fills his pockets. The Angel’s watch his selections… curious… confident. Simple things were being selected… small items with impact enough to change the world. Tonight… God gives out his gifts.
An expectant hush falls over Heaven as the Angels gather at the gates… ready to see him off… there are souls on Earth he wishes to see…weeks… months… millennia apart. God walks through the veil of time on these visits.
The Angels sway happily as God approaches a sleeping babe. He looks down at him as he rests in his mother’s arms. There is the muffled buzz of a television in the background. Her eyes are closed as she lays next to her child… fitful… her face lined with fatigue. God leans down and kisses the little boy on the forehead before reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a pair of tiny gloves and slowly works them onto the hands of this boy. “These are made from Heaven’s Cloth… MY Gift to you. You will be a Builder… when needed… wear them… and trust that anything crafted by your hand will be strong. Trust in me and there is nothing you cannot build.” The boy smiles in his slumber his tiny fists clenching and unclenching within the gloves. God smiles and slides the palm of his hand down the mother’s tired brow. Her face now unlined, she sighs as she visibly relaxes into a deep and peaceful slumber. As he walks away the gloves glow brightly then fade away… nestled safely within the sleeping babe’s spirit.
The Angles murmur excitedly as God approaches a young woman sitting on her sofa reading a book. She can’t see him and remains oblivious. God crouches down and rests his hand on the slight bump of her belly and smiles. From within the child kicks expectantly. The mother’s eyes widen in surprise, resting her hands around God’s on her belly. “Baby’s first kick” she exclaims excitedly. God chuckles then presses his ear against her belly… singing a tune. The child stills to listen… enveloped by the sound. “This is Heaven’s Song… MY gift to you. You will be a composer… when needed… listen… and trust that the notes echoed back to you are the soothing notes of creation. Trust in me and there is no music you cannot play.” The babe listens intently then wriggles in pleasure. God smiles and rises. As he walks away Mother and child sway in unison… she immersed in warm glow as she hums a tune that embeds itself into her unborn child’s spirit.
The Angel’s laugh as a toddler slips out of bed to head for her parent’s room and stops short at the sight of God approaching. She looks up… up… up… at him, then smiles… holding out her little arms to him, and God scoops her up with joy. He sits at the foot of her bed as she babbles to him excitedly… telling him about her day. You see they have met before. God had given her the gift of reason on a prior visit. “Heaven’s Logic… to unlock all doors that appear closed to you”. She jumped up and down as she informed him of her many adventures. God sighs as he places a pair of little glasses over her eyes…”These are made of Heaven’s Glass… MY gift to you. Wear them and no answer will remain unknown to you. You will be a Teacher… when needed look through them… knowledge will lie before you. Trust in me and there is nothing you cannot see.” The little girl looked up at him shyly… “OK.” She answers confidently as her little fingers trace the outline of the glasses on her face. God chuckles as he moves to tuck her back in to bed. “Rest now.” He whispers as he kisses her cheek. She giggles at the scratch of his whiskers then curls on her side… her eyes drifting closed. As God quietly leaves the room… the glasses flash brightly on her face then simmer down into her spirit with a hiss.
The Angels watch fondly as a babe lay in its cradle looking up at God… waving his arms smiling excitedly as God grins picking him up and rubbing his whiskered cheek against his. They eye each other expectantly as God reaches into one of his pockets… he pulls put a long length of rope and wraps it around the baby’s fist… “This is a piece of Heave’s Rope… MY Gift to you. You will be a Finder… when needed send out the end of this rope… and trust that when you pull it back the answer will be there. Trust in me and there is nothing you cannot find.” The babe giggles delightedly as he swings the rope this way and that in his tight little fist. God smiles and lays the boy back down and as he walks away the length of rope glows brightly in the boy’s fist… then fades away… nestled safely within his spirit.
The Angels fall silent as God approaches a young man. He sits at an old fashioned desk… writing furiously in the soft glow of candle light… as he has done thousands of times before. A manuscript… a play… a poem… his is one of the most creative minds of his time. His legacy born of a divine muse. God rests his hand on the young man’s shoulder… and he stiffens. “I am not yet ready” he whispers hoarsely, and God replies “It is finished.” The young man reluctantly lays down his quill and rises to follow God. “You gave me the gift of Word…” he begins and God nods “And there was no story you could not tell.” God embraces the young man and say, “Walk with me,” and together they walk onward through the veil to pause on a busy street.
An expectant hush falls over Heaven as the Angels wait at the gates… ready for his return… there are souls on Earth that he visits…weeks… months… millennia apart. God walks through the veil of time on these visits.
People move about in fear and confusion and the sounds of sirens pierce the air. The young man frowns at the scene before him… and God approaches the pile of twisted glass and metal that had once been a family car. He looks down at a young woman as paramedics’ frantically work on her still bleeding form… and she looks up at him. Tears run down God’s face as he kneels beside her broken body. “Faith…” she whispers weakly… unheard by those nearest her in the midst of the surrounding chaos. “Yes child, My Faith… My Gift to you. You were steadfast when needed by others. Trusting that everything served a purpose… and having faith for those who had none of their own. You trust in me and now I am here to take you home.” God takes both of her hands in his and together they rise. As God walks back to the young man she is bathed in pure light. Walking with faith burning in her spirit she joins God and the young man as they pass through the veil.
Deep in thought God pats his now empty pockets. The Angel’s watch him mulling over his selections… satisfied… proud. Simple things were selected… small items with impact enough to change the world. There is Life and where there is life… God gives out his gifts.
– Nova
Kitchen Fire…
They say “if you play with fire you get burned.” I was never one to follow someone’s advice just because they were giving it, even as a little girl. So here’s the thing… this recollection falls somewhere between the ages of 5, 6 or 7. I was curious… had just mastered the art of ‘Eggs a la Jack’… my very own recipe for scrambled eggs (the first thing I ever learned to make)… of course looking back on it now the recipe was pretty much as follows:
Salt
Black Pepper
Eggs
Butter
Burn it
Short and sweet. No? Lol, well… what do you want… I was 5! My mom had this HUGE empty white paint bucket I used to stand on. I would Cha Cha my hips standing on that thing and swing that spatula with the best of them… all while burning the hell out of those eggs. These were the days BEFORE smoke detectors. You bet your azz I would eat them though… BECAUSE I made them … of course as time went on my palate became a bit more refined… and runny charred eggs lost their appeal.
Now to get back on topic, I had a… not so little… fascination… with fire (hot and pretty) and I thought knives were beautiful (shiny and sharp). Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t a baby serial killer in training or anything. I just liked looking at these things, and sometimes handling them. Never to hurt myself or someone else… just to… you know… play with (and yes that is exactly how Baby Nova thought of it). My adult self cringes to think of the damage I could have done…but hey… God protects Babies, and Fools right? Did I mention that after I learned to walk whenever my sister and I would play Hide and Seek I’d climb into the stove to hide? Yes, you read the right… THE STOVE! We had one with a glass door, and I’d lay face down with my fingers curled around the grate, my feet touching the back of the stove and watch people walk around in the kitchen, and giggle. My mother says whenever someone looking for me would ask “where is she?” she’d hear those giggles. Till this day my mother is paranoid about turning the stove on without checking first. Yup… God protects babies and fools.
So on this particular sunny day my Grandmother and sister were in the living room watching The Muppet Show. I found myself in the kitchen alone and bored… (Hear that? It’s the movie background going dun… dun… dun… duuuunnn!) Lmao sorry I just fell into fits of giggles. To explain… anyone who knows me… knows a Bored Nova is a Dangerous Nova. I mean well but… damn if I don’t always get myself into trouble! Ok back to the story. I decided I wanted to burn spaghetti, don’t ask me why but that was one of my favorite things to do in the kitchen. I used to climb the counter, grab the box of pasta, climb down and turn all of the stoves gas burners on. I’d then take out handfuls of pasta and set them one at a time on the stove… with the ends in the flame. (I know I know). I found it fascinating the way the shaft of that pasta went up in flames; kind of like the way stick incense burns.
Well my faithful pastime of burning pasta wasn’t enough so I decided playing with one of the kitchen knives a bit (mothers… watch your kids!) would keep me occupied. I pulled out one of our kitchen chairs. You know those old sets with the thick hard vinyl and the metal feet. I dragged the chair to the entrance of the kitchen so I could stand at the door to hear if anyone was coming, and I took the tip of this knife and started poking holes into the vinyl. Poke… poke… poke… into the chair’s backrest and seat cushion (I’d done this before) but on this particular day… I poked into other holes I’d poked before and made them bigger. The holes in the seat cushion began to split open… the stuffing was showing. This was an interesting change of pace… so I poked some more… and before I knew it there was a nice sized hole in the middle of the seat of the chair. “Hmmmm….” I used the knife to pull some of the stuffing out.
Bright Idea!!!! I ran over the sink, dumped the knife and pulled out some more pasta. Once I got a nice burn going on a few pieces… I walked over to the chair and set the stuffing on fire. I repeated this several times with several different results. I watched the vinyl bubble then char. I watched the stuffing blacken then melt… then out of nowhere the whole thing pretty much went up in flames. WHOOSH! Picture my little self standing in front of a smoking chair with flames shooting up taller than her head, holding a piece of burning spaghetti between her fingertips. Hmmm… my mother raised no fools… after the initial panic I ran over to the sink, dumped the pasta, grabbed a cup and filled it with water. I then ran back to the flaming chair and reached in quickly to pour the water directly onto the seat.
Just like that the flames were out. I breathed a sigh of relief… then I heard my Grandmother calling my name… and worse heading toward the kitchen! I ran to the counter, grabbed the cutting board, covered the burned seat and quickly sat on it. Just at that moment my Grandmother entered the kitchen sniffing the air suspiciously. “What are you doing?” She asked me in Creole. I swung my little legs back and forth on the chair “nothing…” I answered her in my sweetest sing song of English. I then watched as she started inspecting the kitchen, opening this, closing that, looking in the trash, gazing into the sink frowning at the burned pasta while shaking her head and mumbling under her breath about ‘Crazy American Babies’ (my sister and I were first generation Americans in the family by the way). She cleaned out the sink then turned to me with what I could tell was a ready lecture (we’d been down this road before). I just sat there swinging my legs silent (which was probably a dead giveaway since I argued with this woman about everything)
“What are you hiding?” she asked. “Nothing! I didn’t do nothing!” I quickly answered. She gazed at me intently… now I’d probably say that look was appraising. “Get up.” She said finally stalking over to me. “Why?” I cried with alarm as she grabbed my arm and pulled me up. We stood side by side looking down at the cutting board. She eyed it… eyed me… then shook her head again mumbling about Crazy American Babies. “I’ll put it back!” I said when she reached for it. “Mmm hmm…” she said standing up straight and eyeing me. She shrugged her shoulders and made to walk toward the sink… just as I sagged with relief… she reached past me and picked up the cutting board… then paused. She looked down at the blackened chair seat (that was now wet) and up at me. Back down… then back up. That was all she wrote. “Thalia!” She called my sister and told her to go get the belt (obviously this was before I’d trashed them all) My sister came in the kitchen to see what was going on, looked down at the chair open mouthed, looked back up at me, back down… then back up. Finally shaking her head she left the kitchen… presumably to see what the Muppets were up to.
I’ll keep it simple… my Grandmother gave me a spanking… a well deserved spanking. I shudder to think what I’d do to my kids… So I ended up sitting on the floor in my room alone watching TV till my parents came home. My dad arrived first. I ran to greet him as usual, then returned to my room. After a few minute I heard voices in my parent’s room. My dad sounded angry. My sister was in the room arguing with him (she was 11 or 12 by the way). The door opened and my Grandmother rushed into the room and grabbed my hand. She pulled me up and dragged me to the kitchen. Surprised at first I just followed… confused I started to ask her what was going on but she just put her hand over my mouth and shook her head. She opened one of the lower kitchen cabinet doors and pushed me inside… kinda… stuffed me into it.
I heard my dad marching through the house calling my name, he was looking for me. My Grandmother stood in front of the cabinet door saying nothing. When he finally came into the kitchen demanding to know where I was I looked through the crack in the door and saw he had a belt in his hand. My sister ran up to join my Grandmother in front of the cabinet. Then the fighting started. My Grandmother quietly told him to calm down and put the belt away, she’d already given me a spanking. He told her to shut up, it was his house and he was gonna give me a beating. (Note the difference between the two… spanking… beating… trust me… they are NOT the same) My sister chimed in with “she’s already got spanking Papi; Grandma already gave her a spanking!”
Through the crack in the cabinet I looked at my father’s face. He was a light skinned black man… but in that moment he was kind of… I don’t know… purple maybe? Belt in hand of course. I think it was then as I looked at him he realized I was inside the cabinet… “Get out of the way!” he shouted, grabbing my sister and pushing her aside, but when he turned to my Grandmother. She looked down at him (yes down because he was a short man) and said very precisely. “You are not going to hit this child. I am not moving.” Color me surprised… there was no love lost between me and this woman mainly because she would tell us that we weren’t her ‘real’ grand children… her ‘real grand children’ were back in Haiti… and she missed them. Believe me this story right here is one of my few fond memories of her.
My dad stood toe to toe with her for a while, shouting in her face. (He couldn’t stand her) Calling her all manner of things… things I know today to be obscene… things a man should never say to a woman… let alone to his mother in law. He waved that belt under her nose. He told her to mind her own business… to get out of his way his way… to get out of his house. When he finally stopped his enraged tirade she just looked down her nose at him and said “I’m not moving.” Finally he screamed at her… “Fine… you’re going back to Haiti!” hopping up and down. She looked at him some more… (She hated him) then quietly said, “That will be tomorrow. I gladly go back to Haiti tomorrow. Today Carlo… you will not hit this child. I am not moving.” He finally stopped shouting… peered up at her, breathing heavily… then turned and walked out of the kitchen. A short while later we heard the front door slam. He’d left the house.
I’d watched this entire exchange through the crack of the cabinet door in my hiding place. I was still too young to be afraid. I hadn’t yet developed fear for my father… but I respected it when I saw it in others, and I knew my Grandmother was afraid. She stood there for a long while quiet. My sister nudged her out of the way and helped me out of the cabinet, and my Grandmother stood there quiet and trembling. I looked up at her and realized she was crying. I wrapped my little arms around her waist and said “Don’t cry Grandma… its OK.” My sister also wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her. She stood in that kitchen crying for a long while. That’s how my mom found us when she finally got home. She walked into the kitchen, looked at the three of us hugging… tears streaming down my Grandmother’s face. She asked sharply, “What’s happened?” My Grandmother just looked at her and finally smiled for the first time in what felt like hours. “I’m going back to Haiti.”
True to her word she was gone in a couple of weeks.
– Nova
Sunday sun with my babies…
Yesterday I was out all day in the sun volunteering at The American Cancer Society Relay for Life at the Brooklyn Ikea. Looooong day… Lots of heart breaking stories but lots of inspiring ones as well. We tend to forget how strong the human spirit is. Face to face with so many survivors of cancer it put things into perspective.
There were children playing games, families picnicking… dancing and celebration. There were dozens and dozens of bikers from all over. During the opening ceremony all of the bikes were lined up side by side in the parking lot and they all revved their engines at the same time for a full m minute… DEAFENING…. ear piercing… and amazing all at the same time. Nadiyah, Blacque and I shared a booth with Ikea… we set up a sea of makeup on the counter (girls and their toys lol) and gave the ladies make overs. It was an emotional day. I was hungry, tired, hurting and on edge but I worked through it because there are things in this life that are bigger than our immediate comforts. It was a beautiful experience… Can’t wait to do it again.
A full week of things planned. Just finished watching Goonies and now I’m watching Karate Kid (love me some Pat Morita) my landlord’s minions are out back cutting the grass. When they are done I’m going to go out and treat the yard for bugs… Prune the rosebush out front… Plant some flowers out back… See what happens. I’m firing up the grill to jerk some chicken… the lap top is charging… I’ve rolled a good looking one… My book is on hand…. Me and my boys are going to lay out in the Sun. Mmmm maybe I’ll run to the market to pick up some sugar cane and mint… I see Mojitos in my future.
