Bev-II Entertains

 

It’s a photo shoot, giving my newest household pet, Bev-II, (full name Beverly-II) his chance to show off for my public.

Bev-II is a beautiful almost iridescent Beta fish given to me by my granddaughter, Jai. 

There was a first “Beverly”.  It was Jai’s Beta fish who did not survive its water being changed. 

It happened one evening, not long after becoming Jai’s loving pet.  Beverly seized an opportunity to escape from the confines of his fish bowl.  The aggressive fish leaped from Jai’s care and into the lavatory drain.  Oops!  Not a happy evening in Jai’s household.  I was on the telephone with Jai’s Mom and heard the agonizing wailing as the unfortunate accident propelled first Beverly to fish heaven.

Jai brought Bev-II to live with me on June 27, 2012.  She also gave me a fish net, to ease the risk inherent in the water changing procedure.  

The nurse in my doctor’s office kindly warned me, “that fish will be dead, soon. Fish just don’t live long no matter how well you take care of them.”  We’ll see.  (I’ve found, online, much Beta fish ‘expert’ advice, which I will respect.)

For now, as you can see, Bev-II is having a great time! This photo shoot took place within a span of 10-15 minutes.  Don’t you think Bev-II performs quite well for the camera?

Zero Calories in Mustard

                         I love mayo.

Frozen Yogurt is cool, refreshing, and delicious.

                   I love ice cream.

Fish is heart healthy, brain food, and yummy.

                   I love Rib-Eye Steak.

Whole wheat bread, its high in fiber and tasty,

                   I love white bread.

Fresh Fruit is a satisfying dessert.

                     I want cake.

Nuts and fresh veggies are tasty hunger quenchers.

               I reach for Doritos,

                    Chocolate,

                     Crackers.

A walk around the block strengthens.

           I’d rather play mahjong

           or at the craft of writing.

 A good nights sleep rejuvenates.

                 Lights off before 
                2:30 am - difficult.

In recent years, these truths have sorely distracted my quest to be healthier.  Still, I will not give up. It's a matter of choices.  I am in charge of me!

                                                 z

There will be no mention on Facebook or Twitter telling about this latest blog.  It will be posted on my refrigerator door.  Will I inspire me?  We'll see.

I’m promising a follow-up, ‘results’ blog before Thanksgiving.

Almost a Miracle

First grandchild’s birthday is today.  I didn’t think my daughter would give me a grandchild.  But she did 21 years ago.  She had this baby, a daughter, pictured in my arms at seven months old.  Happy Birthday, Jai Haley! 

At 2 years old, Jai’s mom was diagnosed with Sickle Cell Disease.  Readers of Black Star Girl, my entertaining, yet fact-filled, and historically relevant memoir, will find a candid word portrait of the chronic illness in chapter 30, “A Dick and Jane Life”.

I consider both Jai and her younger brother, Will, to be my almost-a-miracle grandchildren.  I never dreamed their mom would risk pregnancy, considering her lifetime crisis-to-crisis struggle with the organ debilitating disease for which there is still no cure.  

I celebrate Jai and her mom today!

                                                 *     *     *     *     *

Please look for an opportunity and help find a vaccine to wipe out the occurrence of Sickle Cell Disease and a cure for the Disease, as well.

I LOVE my Tablet

I’m talking about the Android I gave myself last month.  It is fabulous. 

Apps are what it’s all about!   They are software programs that I consider embedded in the Tablet. And, many of the Apps are free.

I raised my children when a cautionary phrase was, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch” – meaning, some way or another you will pay for that lunch.  So I am alert to the possibility there is no such thing as a free App. Perhaps one day I will discover a downside to my free App acquisition experiences. 

Favorite Apps I’ve moved to my opening screen are: the Golf Channel, Local Weather, the Camera, Internet, Memo, Instagram, Mahjong, Gallery (every photo taken with the Tablet) and Recipes.

Yesterday I discovered amazingly wonderful features of the Recipe Book App.  I really can clear every recipe book off my kitchen counter!  With a touch of a finger onto that thin Tablet I access any recipe needed or thought about.  Along with the recipe, is a shopping list, measurement explanations and nutritional information of the dish.  And I can easily take a picture of my finished dish.  I haven’t cooked anything yet.  I will.  And I’ll take a picture.

My Tablet is with me, practically all the time.  It’s tucked between the pages of the soft-cover edition of Black Star Girl, which goes wherever I go.  After all, I love my precious award-winning memoir as if it were a child of mine.  Actually it is a ‘child of mine’.  Producing Black Star Girl was a labor of love that took me 34 years to write and publish.  I digress.  The point is, I have no need to buy a carrying case for my Tablet.  It is safe and accessible within the pages of my book.

This senior citizen appreciates the value of a Tablet!  If you want to know which one I have, drop me a line.  I’ll be happy to share.

Hair Yesterday and Today

This morning I sit at the laptop with silky straight black hair.

Last Friday morning I sat at my laptop with curly, almost frizzy, multi-colored grey, black, brown and mysteriously, some tinges of pale orange hair.  It was past time for a shampoo, relaxer, color and style – not in that order, I’m thinking.

My beauty shop appointment was scheduled for early afternoon.  Arriving on time, five hours later I exited the shop, feeling pampered and refreshed – but to me resembling ‘someone else’, not me.

Facing the public, I felt good, knowing to ‘them’ I looked good.

I won’t feel like I look good for a couple more weeks when the relaxer has gotten ‘old’.

When I was very young, my father explained the difference between ‘white hair’ and ‘black hair’ was due to the shape of the hair strand.  European hair is cylindrical shaped; African hair is flat.  The cylindrical strand won’t curl without some help.  The flat strand will be curled, unless it is helped to be straight. 

So, we all (black, white, etc.) might use heat and, or some chemicals (treatment or additives such as conditioners) to achieve a beautiful hairdo we’ve decided our natural look didn’t provide.   In the end it is a matter of personal choice.  I like that.

I made an attempt to 'go natural' in the 60's when black activism called for black pride in our natural look.  (It wasn't and still isn't easy being black.)

I adore Gabby Douglas.  She is talented, charming and seemingly filled with grace at today’s difficult age of sixteen.  She is lovely from the top of her beautiful head down to her little toes.  She is unbeatable in several ways.

Congratulations to Gabby Douglas, the World and Team USA’s 2012 London Olympic Gold Medalist.

              *     *     *    *    *    *    *

Pick up my award-winning memoir, Black Star Girl and Read Chapter 7, page 29 for a detailed description of how mother took care of my hair when I was a little girl. 

It's Thursday?

I’ve lost a day.  I thought it was WEDNESDAY!  How did that happen?  I know.  Monday, immediately after my morning hygiene ritual, I grabbed this laptop and started writing.  Once I write, I’m lost in re-writing.  I’m having fun.  Remembering it all, on that day the next thing I knew it was approaching 7:30 pm and I hadn’t even thought about eating dinner.   By the time I got it all together, eating healthy, it was too quickly midnight and I was thinking about going to bed.  Day gone!   Today I’m thinking, what’s wrong with losing a day if you’re having fun?  And, you’re retired!!!!   

Tomorrow first granddaughter returns to Washington, DC and Howard University’s campus for her Senior Year.  Today I intend to get ready to participate in my (camouflaged) emotional good bye to the young lady.

Tonight I’ll not miss tuning in to the Olympics. Had fun watching last night!  Totally enjoying the delayed programming was a surprise.  (Read yesterday’s blog post, “Old News Is a Good Time?”)

Here’s wishing this day is a beautiful, fun, healthy Thursday for you and yours!

Old News is a Good Time?

I’m all out of sorts about the delayed presentation of the Olympic games.  How ridiculous is that.  I can’t do anything about it not being real-time programming.  It is what it is!

I tried to watch the opening ceremonies.  I will make another effort to enjoy NBC’s presentations because, as I was challenged, “Is it something you've already seen?”  No, but I know what will happen and I resent being managed to watch old news and encouraged to feel ‘hyped’ like it is exciting new news.  Still, thinking perhaps I’m becoming an old fogy – stubborn, judgmental, sour; I haven't given up, entirely.

Must I tolerate the excitement being interrupted willy-nilly by advertising?  Unannounced, the really important part of the viewing time becomes  the cute, heartwarming, colorful, and entertaining advertisements informing me about a product I should buy or the fabulous corporation that makes it available to me.  Nah. 

It was appalling when during the opening ceremony an advertising break was inserted as Sir Steve Redgrave made his way down the path approaching a curve running the torch to the Stadium.  I was emotionally with him, anticipating each of his steps and what would, could happen next.  Abruptly a commercial interrupted the run.  When I saw the torch the next time Sir Steve had arrived at his destination.  The TV producers obviously decided viewers wouldn’t miss him merely trotting on his way.  Wrong!  I was watching his body, feet and legs carrying him forward, arm elevated just so toward the sky, hand (fingers and palm) grasping that flaming symbol.   I was thinking about the torch bearers down through the years, the honor and responsibility of the tradition and for the deep meaning to that man doing the honors now, in the year two thousand twelve.  NBC’s advertising break sadly ruined the moment, broke my reverie.

One more time, though, tonight at 8 PM (1 AM tomorrow in the Olympic village -- London time being 5 hours ahead of us on the east coast of the USA),  I will tune in to try and joyfully involve myself in what happened earlier in their day; what has already been partially broadcast and editorialized on by those who make their money in the business of communication.

It seems, when I was raising my family, we planned for middle of the night watching  the Olympics in real time.  Two, three in the morning, we were in the living room with the popcorn or whatever, watching anticipating, involved in the action as it happened.

Could I be wrong?  Has my memory gotten creative? Didn’t we, years ago, have the option of being real-time television observers of the long awaited Olympics?  Why not now?