OK, let me start this post by saying I LOVE MUSIC, all sorts of music, but I MUST tell you, I've been known to not get the lyrics/words right. Does that stop me from singing, of course NOT. My kids love to sing. They act like they know everything, about every song and they act like I'm so outdated that my groove and coolness was for like back in the day. Their only back in the day time frame equals, the 80s, what is wrong with these kids? They walk around throwing out names like, wakaflaka, not a real name in my opinion, JT, JB, Jay Jay, watever, who cares, like I'm so outdated, anyways. The other day, I wanted to show them a thing or two so I decided to sing Beyonce's Halo. Yes, HALO!!!
I got to the part where she sings, "everywhere I'm looking now, it's written all over your face, baby I can see your halo, you know hummm-(don't know the words in between) my saving grace." Then I belted, "I can see your HELLO, HELLO, HELLO, HELLO OH, OH, OH, just jamming like everything is ALL RIGHT! until my daughter, with a crossed look on her face, said with a hint of annoyance, MOMMY!!! she's saying HALO! and I was like I know....., I'm saying the same thing...... I can see your HELLO, HELLO!! she's like Mom, its HALO..... I asked do we have a communication problem here? being the over thinker that I am, I said to her, Beyonce's song, makes absolutely no sense; How in the world can she see my HELLO? my child walked away utterly frustrated and was probably questioning, why Lord, with her hands in the air, was she assigned the most uncool, unknowing, doesn't know she is embarrassing me mom? Hey, what can I say? other than, these singers need to sing A LOT more clearly, enunciate! OK? OK...... I know I didn't interpret the song, but I couldn't even get the chorus so we will try again later....and that's my first song interpretation entry.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
You've Got Mail
A few days ago I was getting ready to sit at the computer when I looked out the window and noticed the mailman had arrived. How boring was my barefooted walk to the mailbox. In Wesley Village, in the Commonwealth of Dominica walking barefoot to get the mail would be a BIG NO! NO! as getting the mail was an event. The post office was the place to be on a Monday, Wednesday and Saturday afternoon. Mondays and Wednesdays were ok as they were weekdays so much effort didn't go into the event... getting mail on a Saturday? now that's was big!
If you weren't a post office going person then all this will be wasted on you, but if mail day especially Saturday mail day was your thing, I know you're saying BRING IT!!!! Saturdays were busy days, you had to wake up bright and early go to the river. I had a basin of four shirts, two skirts, about five panties and it would take me ALLLLLLLLLLLL day to wash dat. River was a big, big deal but that is another post.
Once I was done soaping up and washing my few items using lots of soap, yep! lots of soap cause I had to make sure I got a white soap ring around my calf area. That, I suppose was a sign of a true washer. If you didn't get the ring? then I'm guessing your clothes weren't washed clean. I'm just saying. I don't think there was a particular pattern or order for washing, maybe for other people, because I don't remember if you had to wash first then bathe or bathe and then wash, I didn't have a system, I did it all, wash one piece swim, swim... sometimes I forgot I came to wash, who knew 6 little pieces of clothes took at least 5 hours to wash.... who knew?
Anyways.....I had to make sure I made it home before 2p or 4p? who knows, I didn't keep track of the time then, I had way too much going on. What I am saying is, I had to get back in time to go to the post office. It was something, an event I couldn't miss, in my mind it was equal to missing the rapture. A bit extreme but that's what it felt like.
Remember I mentioned using lots of soap to get the ring around your leg? well once you're done washing you had to make sure to get that off your leg otherwise coconut husshy would be needed to shine the leg clean. But that is something in and of itself for another time. As you can tell, I am eager even as I type to take a mental trip back to a Saturday post office Day.
I recall it being a BIG deal. The appearance for day was a cross between Sunday best meet Friday night Jam session. If you had it? you wore it and flaunted it, if not then you just went with what you had. I think it was a day that everyone took a bath or smelled like they did with guys and girls not being afraid to wear the same perfume/cologne. We'll leave that alone for now.
If you had heels, you wore heels although, I cannot figure out how the fashionistas didn't loose their heels walking Wesley's Road? Anyways, It was a place to catch up with school mates, exchange books like Blue Jeans, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, etc., etc.,. It was a place where you caught a glimpse of that special someone, it was a place to pong a bef, (gossip) he say, she say, it was a place where hope lived, especially for those waiting to get the first or final letter to go to Barbados to get a visa to go to America. It was a place of complete happiness. It was my vacation spot. where I let it all hang out. It's where I played hopscotch, roundas, moral, skip, and stone Ma Dennis bomary tree even as she sat under it so those disagreble children wouldn't stone her tree, and that meant nothing to me.
It was where I played skip is wasting, skip for seenjay, hoop, hit and run, race, stone rodney mango tree, and called maggot a hag for hersibble sweet Shaddock. I was young then, today I apologize for all the bad things. It's the place where I used what little money I had to buy all miss tourist gooseberries. It was where I hated selling candies and other sweeties for my mother cause I would just put her tray down and by the time I came back it had less candy than I did money. It's where I would position myself right at the window after the mail arrived so that every letter coming out of the post office would pass through my hand before making its way to the one who yelled PASS IT!!!
It was my place of zen, peace, excitement, freedom and fun. I don't know about you but as I am coming back to this reality I can say one thing for sure, mail delivered daily to my mail box pales in comparison to picking it up yourself in a tiny enclosed post office in Wesley on a hot sunny Saturday afternoon.
Please share any pics you may have of any of the post offices. It would be great to feature them on here.
If you weren't a post office going person then all this will be wasted on you, but if mail day especially Saturday mail day was your thing, I know you're saying BRING IT!!!! Saturdays were busy days, you had to wake up bright and early go to the river. I had a basin of four shirts, two skirts, about five panties and it would take me ALLLLLLLLLLLL day to wash dat. River was a big, big deal but that is another post.
Once I was done soaping up and washing my few items using lots of soap, yep! lots of soap cause I had to make sure I got a white soap ring around my calf area. That, I suppose was a sign of a true washer. If you didn't get the ring? then I'm guessing your clothes weren't washed clean. I'm just saying. I don't think there was a particular pattern or order for washing, maybe for other people, because I don't remember if you had to wash first then bathe or bathe and then wash, I didn't have a system, I did it all, wash one piece swim, swim... sometimes I forgot I came to wash, who knew 6 little pieces of clothes took at least 5 hours to wash.... who knew?
Anyways.....I had to make sure I made it home before 2p or 4p? who knows, I didn't keep track of the time then, I had way too much going on. What I am saying is, I had to get back in time to go to the post office. It was something, an event I couldn't miss, in my mind it was equal to missing the rapture. A bit extreme but that's what it felt like.
Remember I mentioned using lots of soap to get the ring around your leg? well once you're done washing you had to make sure to get that off your leg otherwise coconut husshy would be needed to shine the leg clean. But that is something in and of itself for another time. As you can tell, I am eager even as I type to take a mental trip back to a Saturday post office Day.
I recall it being a BIG deal. The appearance for day was a cross between Sunday best meet Friday night Jam session. If you had it? you wore it and flaunted it, if not then you just went with what you had. I think it was a day that everyone took a bath or smelled like they did with guys and girls not being afraid to wear the same perfume/cologne. We'll leave that alone for now.
If you had heels, you wore heels although, I cannot figure out how the fashionistas didn't loose their heels walking Wesley's Road? Anyways, It was a place to catch up with school mates, exchange books like Blue Jeans, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, etc., etc.,. It was a place where you caught a glimpse of that special someone, it was a place to pong a bef, (gossip) he say, she say, it was a place where hope lived, especially for those waiting to get the first or final letter to go to Barbados to get a visa to go to America. It was a place of complete happiness. It was my vacation spot. where I let it all hang out. It's where I played hopscotch, roundas, moral, skip, and stone Ma Dennis bomary tree even as she sat under it so those disagreble children wouldn't stone her tree, and that meant nothing to me.
It was where I played skip is wasting, skip for seenjay, hoop, hit and run, race, stone rodney mango tree, and called maggot a hag for her
It was my place of zen, peace, excitement, freedom and fun. I don't know about you but as I am coming back to this reality I can say one thing for sure, mail delivered daily to my mail box pales in comparison to picking it up yourself in a tiny enclosed post office in Wesley on a hot sunny Saturday afternoon.
Please share any pics you may have of any of the post offices. It would be great to feature them on here.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Me?..... a Farmer's Wife?
As I sit here remembering some old school memories, I can't help but reflect on some of the games I played growing up. The first one that comes mind, is the Farmer in the Dell/Den/Ring. To those of you who sang Den then read Den, if you sang Dell, then read dell and so on. Yes? ok
School at the Methodist Church began after hurricane David destroyed the Wesley Government School aka big school. Friday's were the best days, it was clean up day culminating in a big fire in the root of the mango tree and of course games.
The farmer in the dell/den/ring? who remembers it as the farmer in the ring? anyways that was always a fun game, especially if you really... wanted to play... and by really wanting to play, I mean, if the farmer was your cheek. If your cheek wasn't the farmer you still had to play cause it was a class activity. The fun began once the circle was made, farmer was chosen and the song began. This game wasn't just a game, it was a time for statements to be made. For example, if your cheek was the farmer, of course you would be chosen first and it was a time to signal to the haters to step off. Well not in those words but something like that.
The statements were made based on how the farmer chose his family. hahahahaha! In order for the family to begin the farmer had to choose his wife and this is where happy, sad, and vexed feelings surfaced. The farmer tells everyone at least during the game who he wanted as his wife or who his wife/girlfriend at the moment will be/is by walking over to choose her. Usually, his wife's natural response was to pull her hand, cut/roll her eyes as if to say, "boy lemme go, wha you choosing me for your wife nor?" all the while enjoying the moment of being chosen first.
If per chance, one wasn't chosen as the farmer's wife, thankfully there were other mentionable positions in the farmer's dell/den/ring/life to vy for. There's the nurse, the maid, the child, the cow and the dog. This brings us to the last and absolute worse position that one can be chosen as..the cheese..... I can still hear in my head and the cheese stands alone......what a sad place to be.
Did any of you ever wanted to be chosen as the farmer's wife? I specifically recall a particular farmer who insisted on choosing me as his wife and I insisted on hiding behind the person next to me. Turns out, me and Mr. Farmer were very good friends and used to be during school, I just didn't want to be his wife. I had my eyes on another farmer who, sadly, NEVER chose me as his wife. Oh well, the lessons that these childhood games teach us. Looking back one can't help but wonder, how in the world were we allowed to play these games with such adult undertones? I guess it was a different time, when children were really innocent and carefree.
School at the Methodist Church began after hurricane David destroyed the Wesley Government School aka big school. Friday's were the best days, it was clean up day culminating in a big fire in the root of the mango tree and of course games.
The farmer in the dell/den/ring? who remembers it as the farmer in the ring? anyways that was always a fun game, especially if you really... wanted to play... and by really wanting to play, I mean, if the farmer was your cheek. If your cheek wasn't the farmer you still had to play cause it was a class activity. The fun began once the circle was made, farmer was chosen and the song began. This game wasn't just a game, it was a time for statements to be made. For example, if your cheek was the farmer, of course you would be chosen first and it was a time to signal to the haters to step off. Well not in those words but something like that.
The statements were made based on how the farmer chose his family. hahahahaha! In order for the family to begin the farmer had to choose his wife and this is where happy, sad, and vexed feelings surfaced. The farmer tells everyone at least during the game who he wanted as his wife or who his wife/girlfriend at the moment will be/is by walking over to choose her. Usually, his wife's natural response was to pull her hand, cut/roll her eyes as if to say, "boy lemme go, wha you choosing me for your wife nor?" all the while enjoying the moment of being chosen first.
If per chance, one wasn't chosen as the farmer's wife, thankfully there were other mentionable positions in the farmer's dell/den/ring/life to vy for. There's the nurse, the maid, the child, the cow and the dog. This brings us to the last and absolute worse position that one can be chosen as..the cheese..... I can still hear in my head and the cheese stands alone......what a sad place to be.
Did any of you ever wanted to be chosen as the farmer's wife? I specifically recall a particular farmer who insisted on choosing me as his wife and I insisted on hiding behind the person next to me. Turns out, me and Mr. Farmer were very good friends and used to be during school, I just didn't want to be his wife. I had my eyes on another farmer who, sadly, NEVER chose me as his wife. Oh well, the lessons that these childhood games teach us. Looking back one can't help but wonder, how in the world were we allowed to play these games with such adult undertones? I guess it was a different time, when children were really innocent and carefree.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
I Dressed Up Today
This happened to me a while back, I just remembered and wanted to share.
Mr. 6footer plus bought me this cute little outfit, not my style at all, I'm all about the black and browns, no colors. He's been trying to get me to try new styles so he introduced a lavender, purply top with a tiny belt at the waist and some super curve accentuating slacks. I should post a pic but I don't have one, another time. I wore the cute number to work and immediately, I received compliment, after compliment ,after compliment. Hmmmmmm, I thought, Mr. 6foot plus must be on to something here.
Just as I was about to take the walk down the hall runway style a compliment... I think, stopped me dead in my tracks. I hadn't seen this particular co-worker in a while so after some brief hello's and where have you been and what not he said, "soooooooooooo...., I see that you decided to dress up today." Whoaaaaaa!!!! WHAT!!!!!???? What do you think I've been doing all the other days? :0
To Mr. 6foot plus I say, keep the surprise outfits coming. I guess a little color to the wardrobe is exactly what I needed to shake the drabness of black and browns, yes? yess! Say it with me along with a bit of disgust under your breath, "you decided to dress up today". the nerve! phfffffffff!
Mr. 6footer plus bought me this cute little outfit, not my style at all, I'm all about the black and browns, no colors. He's been trying to get me to try new styles so he introduced a lavender, purply top with a tiny belt at the waist and some super curve accentuating slacks. I should post a pic but I don't have one, another time. I wore the cute number to work and immediately, I received compliment, after compliment ,after compliment. Hmmmmmm, I thought, Mr. 6foot plus must be on to something here.
Just as I was about to take the walk down the hall runway style a compliment... I think, stopped me dead in my tracks. I hadn't seen this particular co-worker in a while so after some brief hello's and where have you been and what not he said, "soooooooooooo...., I see that you decided to dress up today." Whoaaaaaa!!!! WHAT!!!!!???? What do you think I've been doing all the other days? :0
To Mr. 6foot plus I say, keep the surprise outfits coming. I guess a little color to the wardrobe is exactly what I needed to shake the drabness of black and browns, yes? yess! Say it with me along with a bit of disgust under your breath, "you decided to dress up today". the nerve! phfffffffff!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Press The "X"
My Sixfooterplus and I have four amazing little people who sometimes CANNOT, comprehend some of the things we say especially when it's something from our youthful years in Dominica (DA). So they sometimes need it broken down, and it's during the breaking down part the fun begins. Our subject today was about a belle marché-pretty walk, that Mr. Sixfootplus participated in when he was just a five footer. Who knows, I don't know how old he was but his memory of the event would allow you to think it was only a few years ago, maybe two. Hahahahhaha.
We have one precious girl and three amazing boys who I will NOT talk about right now because I will go on for days. He had his little girl hooked on his every word as he remembered all the things they did on the belle marché until he started talking about a têtê chien. I know, some of you are like WHAT? A têtê chein is a snake, a very big snake. Heck, lets just call it an ANACONDA, got the picture? He lost her right here.
Apparently, during the marché-walk, someone stepped on a big spongy muscular rubbery thing. He was so animated going over what was probably chaos, she freaked out. He started explaining that in Dominica when you see a snake, its followed by a huge announcement of SNAKE. "What did you do?" she asked. "Run", he said, "whenever you hear snake, that is what you do, you run." That only allowed him to dig deeper into his memory bank and we began to share snake stories.
I chimed in with my experience riding to Portsmouth on Mr. Geoff passenger bus about seeing a huge boa constrictor just after we passed the Woodfordhill River Bridge. Mr. Sixfooter now insisted that I say boa constrictor cause he had the child freaked out at this point. So I went on to say, I saw an ANACONDA just like the one in the movies. They both attacked me for saying Anaconda and accused me of exaggerating. I like to think of it, not as exaggerating but as painting word pictures, anyways.
The bus driver steered the bus and ran over the snake, then he put the bus in reverse to see if anything was there, nothing was, it did NOT die! I started to think it must've climbed into the tire hole or it was stuck on the underneath somewhere. Please people, I was around nine! so yes, I had an active imagination. I'm not nine anymore and I'm still accused of having an active imagination. hmmmmmm, Wats up with dat?
Before I knew it, Mr. Sixfoot was back in the heart of the story sharing one snake story after another, he went on to share a snake story about the big corner near my grandparents home on Londonderry road and how he dislike walking that corner. That only prompted me to ask, walk? when did you walk that corner? oh! let me finish, was the response..I'll come back to that later...... then he said, he would speed up when he came to that corner. Naturally, I interrupted with, oh, so it's speed up now. Our daughter asked, why did you speed up? he said he'd press the gas to go around the corner fast. I said are you sure you pressed the gas and not the X? he fell out laughing. What do you know about pressing the "X"? That only allowed me to open my extra large brown eyes in great astonishment in his direction and without using words; I asked with my eyes, What do you mean, what do I know about pressing the X? Don't forget to imagine me with my lips pressed tightly together and pulled back with my head cocked to the side. Got it? hahahhahahhah
Our poor daughter lost in the confusion ask, what is the X? I proudly expressed that it meant, pressing the gas, to go faster and Mr. sixfooter said it's the accelerator. I explained the roads didn't always give a smooth ride due to all the holes. I told her there was one piece of road, a straightaway along the backwall, close to the airport that was smooth, people would ask the driver to press the X to enjoy the ride. I must've taken too long with my explanation because my hubby wanted to finished his belle marché story. He went on to explain spots known to have big snakes, black snakes and snakes that chased you. I never experience the chasing snakes but I did have an Abolow, a ground lizard chase me after I hit it with a tent iron.
As I listened to Mr. Sixfootplus recall the stories of his childhood, I felt a tad bit of sadness that our children did not experience the same freedoms and innocence of our upbringing. We do our best to have them share in the experience but it's not the same. Oh the sweet, sweet years of growing up in the hole and off of Londonderry Road.
We have one precious girl and three amazing boys who I will NOT talk about right now because I will go on for days. He had his little girl hooked on his every word as he remembered all the things they did on the belle marché until he started talking about a têtê chien. I know, some of you are like WHAT? A têtê chein is a snake, a very big snake. Heck, lets just call it an ANACONDA, got the picture? He lost her right here.
Apparently, during the marché-walk, someone stepped on a big spongy muscular rubbery thing. He was so animated going over what was probably chaos, she freaked out. He started explaining that in Dominica when you see a snake, its followed by a huge announcement of SNAKE. "What did you do?" she asked. "Run", he said, "whenever you hear snake, that is what you do, you run." That only allowed him to dig deeper into his memory bank and we began to share snake stories.
I chimed in with my experience riding to Portsmouth on Mr. Geoff passenger bus about seeing a huge boa constrictor just after we passed the Woodfordhill River Bridge. Mr. Sixfooter now insisted that I say boa constrictor cause he had the child freaked out at this point. So I went on to say, I saw an ANACONDA just like the one in the movies. They both attacked me for saying Anaconda and accused me of exaggerating. I like to think of it, not as exaggerating but as painting word pictures, anyways.
The bus driver steered the bus and ran over the snake, then he put the bus in reverse to see if anything was there, nothing was, it did NOT die! I started to think it must've climbed into the tire hole or it was stuck on the underneath somewhere. Please people, I was around nine! so yes, I had an active imagination. I'm not nine anymore and I'm still accused of having an active imagination. hmmmmmm, Wats up with dat?
Before I knew it, Mr. Sixfoot was back in the heart of the story sharing one snake story after another, he went on to share a snake story about the big corner near my grandparents home on Londonderry road and how he dislike walking that corner. That only prompted me to ask, walk? when did you walk that corner? oh! let me finish, was the response..I'll come back to that later...... then he said, he would speed up when he came to that corner. Naturally, I interrupted with, oh, so it's speed up now. Our daughter asked, why did you speed up? he said he'd press the gas to go around the corner fast. I said are you sure you pressed the gas and not the X? he fell out laughing. What do you know about pressing the "X"? That only allowed me to open my extra large brown eyes in great astonishment in his direction and without using words; I asked with my eyes, What do you mean, what do I know about pressing the X? Don't forget to imagine me with my lips pressed tightly together and pulled back with my head cocked to the side. Got it? hahahhahahhah
Our poor daughter lost in the confusion ask, what is the X? I proudly expressed that it meant, pressing the gas, to go faster and Mr. sixfooter said it's the accelerator. I explained the roads didn't always give a smooth ride due to all the holes. I told her there was one piece of road, a straightaway along the backwall, close to the airport that was smooth, people would ask the driver to press the X to enjoy the ride. I must've taken too long with my explanation because my hubby wanted to finished his belle marché story. He went on to explain spots known to have big snakes, black snakes and snakes that chased you. I never experience the chasing snakes but I did have an Abolow, a ground lizard chase me after I hit it with a tent iron.
As I listened to Mr. Sixfootplus recall the stories of his childhood, I felt a tad bit of sadness that our children did not experience the same freedoms and innocence of our upbringing. We do our best to have them share in the experience but it's not the same. Oh the sweet, sweet years of growing up in the hole and off of Londonderry Road.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
A Fantastic Song
To completely absorb this song, I suggest you listen at least two, ok, maybe three times to grasp the idea of complete surrender.
I don't know much about William McDowell the artist who sings this song. All I know is that he sings this song with such passion that I feel compelled to look him up. I will share some follow up info.
In the mean time, listen and if you want purchase this song.
Take a listen via you tube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-91kGdTumXg&feature=fvst
I don't know much about William McDowell the artist who sings this song. All I know is that he sings this song with such passion that I feel compelled to look him up. I will share some follow up info.
In the mean time, listen and if you want purchase this song.
Take a listen via you tube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-91kGdTumXg&feature=fvst
Favorite Movie Ever
It is raining and it's the PERFECT day for my favorite movie. When the Robin gang, that's what we call ourselves, sit down to take in a movie you can best believe I, we will start with one of my favorites. Well not start but eventually, when my turn comes after i've watched Nemo like six times, the Incredibles and maybe some spongebob, Who is in charge here? we feast on some lamdas bread and watch Gandalf the grey become the white and much more throughout these three wicked awesome movies Yep!
I can tell you right of the bat, my kids dread when it's my turn. They surrender the télé with great LACK of excitement as they shrug their shoulders and mutter under their breaths, here you gooooooo…..handing me not one but ALL THREE, LORD OF THE RINGS movies. They usually come around, usually at the point where Gandalf comes to the Shire. hahahahahhahah.
These movies are awesome that I had to read the books, so I went to the library and rented, Lord of the Rings-audio. Yep! sure did. I read, listened to all three books in about three days, Cause das how I roll main! YES!, I meant to say “main” to give you an idea exactly how and with the accent, I SAID IT!!!!!!!
Just so you know, I will take every opportunity I get to reference this movie. So if you’ve never seen it before run, don’t walk to your nearest, colored box and rent not one but all three, to prepare you for the references. yes? yes!
Let’s take a seat on the couch in the family room on this rainy Saturday, or it could be a sun shiny day where you are, it doesn’t matter, to take in the ever hesitant leader, Stryder, handsomeman Aragorn, as we urge him on quietly to step into his role as King?
Check it out
http://www.lordoftherings.net/
I can tell you right of the bat, my kids dread when it's my turn. They surrender the télé with great LACK of excitement as they shrug their shoulders and mutter under their breaths, here you gooooooo…..handing me not one but ALL THREE, LORD OF THE RINGS movies. They usually come around, usually at the point where Gandalf comes to the Shire. hahahahahhahah. These movies are awesome that I had to read the books, so I went to the library and rented, Lord of the Rings-audio. Yep! sure did. I read, listened to all three books in about three days, Cause das how I roll main! YES!, I meant to say “main” to give you an idea exactly how and with the accent, I SAID IT!!!!!!!
Just so you know, I will take every opportunity I get to reference this movie. So if you’ve never seen it before run, don’t walk to your nearest, colored box and rent not one but all three, to prepare you for the references. yes? yes!
Let’s take a seat on the couch in the family room on this rainy Saturday, or it could be a sun shiny day where you are, it doesn’t matter, to take in the ever hesitant leader, Stryder, handsomeman Aragorn, as we urge him on quietly to step into his role as King?
Check it outhttp://www.lordoftherings.net/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)