Notebook Craze

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A sample of the notebook craze

I appreciate technology really; I’m just as addicted as you are. But when I say notebook craze, I’m not talking about the computer, I’m talking about actual notebooks. You know, those pieces of paper held together by glue and metal rings, yea, those. I want to take the time to thank the founders of Dollar Tree, Dollar General, and Family Dollar for all the hard work you put into stocking your shelves with these babies. The $1 store itself has become a treasure of fresh inspiration for me, a living blueprint for whatever it is my mind feels like building up. Every new notebook is an opportunity to create something new. If I can spare it (which I somehow always can), I have to purchase a new notebook. Maybe it’s a small journal of a thing. Maybe it’s a 180 page 5 subject wide rule or 100 page composition book who knows. Perhaps I’ll get the same one as last time in a different color. I am after all looking to brighten things up a bit around here. How many? Two? Three? Four? “No, that’s obsessive, one step at a time EC. Just pick one you really like.”  One? “Yes, one. And don’t forget the dish washing liquid you actually came to get but somehow got distracted by the school supply aisle.” Oh yea, that.

Spiral Notebooks

But this is really only the beginning. I still have to take the notebook home, and that’s when the fun really starts! I still have to decide what kind of notebook this is. What will I carve on the front cover to illustrate this new beauty to the world? What kind of purpose will this new storage place hold for my thoughts? Maybe I’ll fill it with random fragments of sentences, little immature and underdeveloped thoughts. A preliminary of something great but that looks right now like a foreign language. Maybe I’ll jot down a scripture or two, or elaborate on full sentences and transform them into a poem or two, a short story or an entire manuscript. Or this could just be the “just in case” notebook. You know, the little notebook you carry around in your purse (or suitcase/backpack for the men) just in case something good happens.(Please tell me you have a just in case notebook). But then I have to get into the notebook, and let’s not even talk about the intoxicating aroma of fresh paper; the undiluted blank state of blue and red lines. So pure and inviting, let me just write my name real quick. There, now that’s art.

These are the kinds of thoughts that run through my head all because of notebooks. A simple mission turned writer’s paradise. Is it an addiction? You can call it what you want. I mean, technically I don’t really need another notebook, BUT it will soon be a question of how I ever lived without it. So I guess I need another one because I will eventually need it. Makes sense? No? Good. I still got it. 🙂

Dogs Have Personalities

dog_german_bad_dogOn the way to work this morning we stopped at a red light. We could feel the stare of someone on the side of us. You all know the feeling, when your hairs stand up on your skin like antennae. My husband noticed it first since he notices everything. He can somehow see everything you’re doing in your car. So, turning slightly to the left there he was. All fury and bursting with energy. Tongue hung over the front of his mouth and …wait, “did he just smile at me?” I think a dog just smiled at me. He may have winked too. I’m not very good in the doggie breeding category so I don’t know what kind of dog he was but as long as he knows that I know his secret. It all started back in 2007, before which I was a cat woman. As a child I treasured the company of tiny paws and purring sounds. The ease of having them to jump up in your lap, petting had never been so fun. But today cats are just kind of creepy. They’re always sneaking around and peeking around the corner. Showing up at the oddest times, “where did you come from?” Destroying something I’m sure. Anyway, back to the story.

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Lady and the children Top to bottom: Faatimah (in pink), Autumn (hips), David, and Menelik

So yes, 2007. My husband and I, (unwed then) received a puppy (Rottweiler) from some friends. Technically she was a puppy but didn’t really look like it. She was almost my height so I was never really convinced. The dog absolutely loved to lounge on the couch downstairs from which she was strongly prohibited. Did she obey? No. She jumped up on the sofa every chance she got and crossed her little paws like she was the queen of the castle. I mean sure she guarded things but sista girl needed to get one thing straight: I am the woman of this house. We named her Lady because aside from her obvious doggy demeanor she was everything but a dog. As you can see she loved to take pictures and happened to be very photogenic. I don’t know who she thought she was (to my knowledge America’s Top Doggies didn’t exist). She handled herself nice and dainty like. I kept trying to tell her she wasn’t as petite as she thought she was, but what I said didn’t seem to matter. She walked around the house like she was made up of feathers though company made it very clear we’d adopted the most dangerous animal known to man. So did her appetite. That didn’t stop her from switching across the floor though, moving her butt from side to side like she had hips. I didn’t play that though, no male doggie company until you are of age young lady. Although now that I think about it, I’m sure she lied about her age.

PS_Hotel_KingRoom_newThe straw that broke the camel’s back was in ’09. We’d traveled from Chicago to Dallas in my husband’s truck with little Miss thing in the backseat. What a trip that was. Upon our arrival we checked into a hotel that would allow for pets. Usually I just got my mother to doggy sit but that wasn’t happening this time. The last time mama came over Lady made it very clear that she could take care of herself. Needless to say my mother wasn’t very enthusiastic about doing this again. So we check into the hotel and although very nervous about leaving her there, we decided to take a risk. It was a business trip and we did not have the time to stick around. Amidst all of the fun we were having, we forgot about Lady in the hotel room. It was dark when we got back and I braced myself for the destruction we would have to pay for on account of this child we left to her own devices. But when we opened the door laughter escaped us. I think we laughed for a good 15 minutes straight. We had one of those comfortable sofa chairs and the dog was sitting on the chair with her paws crossed and watching television. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. Nothing was out of place. Nothing chewed on. The only thing this prissy little lady wanted to do was sit uninterrupted on the most comfortable spot in the house. I eventually accepted her for who she was and went out and bought this neat little electronic device that could be used to trim your dog’s nails, since Lady made it very clear that she’d never had a mani pedi before.

So now I know the secret: 101 Dalmatians was not just a movie. If your a dog lover listen to me very closely, this is not a joke: all dogs have personalities. They talk when your away and act like people as soon as you turn your back. I’m just warning you.

Hide and Seek with Spring

One minute its warm and then the temperature takes a bow. He’s too clever to crouch, for then I will notice him. So yes, a bow will do. Just enough to add to the confusion of the weather. But today. Oh no today I’m on to him. It’s so very nice outside. Plus, I have seen splashes of yellows and trees budding reds. I have felt the gentle brush of warm air crawl upon my skin. I have watched the sun hopscotch with children and then hide behind the clouds again. I have seen the shelves of stores dressed in organic soil and flower pots. I awake to the kiss of sunlight nibbling at my face, though by the time I make it to the window you vanish before I could let you in. I approach the patio to get a taste of a calming breeze, then shutter at the sight of goosebumps on my skin. My short sleeves and dresses lay intermingled with my sweaters and jeans, poor things. They are confused in this maze of a world, this puzzle of a decision. My blinds are open again, trying to catch up with you. I’m sure the twinkle of the stars is really laughter. I think I even saw them slap high fives with the moon, for I am the peeping tom of the sky. Over here playing hide and seek with spring.

Sorry

young woman with her head in her hands

Have you ever been tired of saying that you’re sorry? Can’t courage your way out of this weakness; can’t forklift this stain out of your chest; can’t shatter these words into dust, drive them to the deepest ocean and wave them goodbye. After all, demons are easy to kill, for they coward under the strength of your words, melt under the banner of your truth. But I am no superwoman, not yet anyway. The law of my tongue half written, a scorching painting left unfinished. But I’m sorry sounds like broken English too distorted to be deciphered, so the flesh of my skin crawls away from the filth of this apology. My knees are stitched against the backbone of my breast, my arms stapled around these, my head tucked tightly inside of me. I am twisted. What kind of forgiveness got me in this fetal position? At some point a change has got to come. I have not the time to keep traveling on repeat; the same old album forgetting to change it’s tune; a dangling sacrifice. The birth and death of me are these apologies; both the resurrection and artwork of my eulogy. I have just had enough of these wretched…. I’m sorry’s.

The Last Post

I have not given up on you yet, but this is my last general post. For the week. Not my usual last post, but the last one until next week sometime. There won’t be a Recipe Sunday coming up and you will not get your stream of inspirational quotes, poetry, and whatever else I feel like talking about. I will be taking a mini vacation away from this blog to handle some much needed business. I thought about whether or not to just disappear into thin air. If I should leave you pondering the misty like dust lingering around my dashboard; if I should cloak myself with invisibility and then suddenly re-appear, but I don’t think that would be much fun. In the meantime, I would like to give an open invitation to both new and old followers to help yourself to the house. Scroll through as many old posts as you wish, help yourself to the tabs, whatever pleases your fancy, comment, or join this blog for the first time. I will still be interactive while I’m gone. I just won’t be in the position to publish any posts but I do have eyes in the back of my head just so you know. And while you can make yourself at home I’m not sure if there’s anything in the fridge so if you plan to stick around just like, bring a snack or something.

Ok well that’s it. I better get on outta here; I have a plane to catch. The post after this one will be my final quote of the week. So yea, stepping away now. Don’t everyone cry at the same time.

7 Reasons I Follow Your Blog

• Your website or blog name has the word “Poetry” in it
• I disagree with almost everything you post, which is strangely interesting
• You seem to actually have a brain
• You wrote a post that took my breath away and I’m still trying to find it
• You said something weird
• Your a black woman with natural hair and I’m just wondering if there is something else interesting about you
• You laugh a lot

Before

queen-and-king

Before they ever thwarted us…
Beat down tortured us…
Slave ship boarded us…
Rounded up and horded us…
Before they ever sent the natives round to go and capture ya…

Before they gave us crack and put them crooked laws on us…
Before they water hosed us and sent them dogs on us….
Before the self-hatred had us fighting one another…
Before the Willie Lynch Letter broke our family structure….