2nd Time Around, Part 3, Final Chapter

Continued from Part 2...


I didn't mention earlier that I was spontaneously asked to be the Mistress of Service for our Sunday Service program. Spontaneous as in, Cousin Tina asked me from the front of the meeting hall as I sat at a table in the middle of the room, a room filled with our ENTIRE family. There was no way for me to decline. During the procession of the program I realized that my breathing wasn't as strong as normal. Thank goodness I declined from participating in the family choir.

I thought no more of this until later at home while unloading the truck; i felt the same weakness again. Once settled I read over the printed antibiotic prescription information that I mistakenly left home. I began to wonder if Hubby was correct in thinking the medicine had caused the additional symptoms, not the infection. I had one more day of pills to take and still had the recurring fever and chills. Not normal.

After several moments of contemplation, I decided to call my doctor's office. She suggested I go to the emergency room. Since Hubby and son were already in bed and I could tell Hubby was in his "you don't need to go the emergency room" mode, I decided not to press and drive myself. At least I did contact mom and sis to let them know of my plans. They decided that sis will drop off mom and if it turned out to be serious, they would workout getting my car back home.

Mom arrived not long after I completed the check-in process. In the examining room, I began to feel the effects of the last Goody powder wearing off. Being that the last few times I'd been on a hospital gurney I was well medicated, I don't recall noticing how UNCOMFORTABLE a gurney can be. I tossed and turned in the slim excuse of a bed. It took two people find a "good" vein to suck all the blood out of me.
It seemed like hours before I was given any Tylenol for the fever. I figured they wanted to perform all tests prior. By the time the pain reliever took effect well, the doc returned with the results.

Of course, since the doctor is PRACTICING medicine, he had no idea what was wrong. He had eliminated a reaction from the medicine and the initial infection was non-existent. He would have guessed it was something viral, but since I still had the fever, he suggested I had an infection that could not be detected in the tests they had performed. Either I could stay longer and let them take cultures or take a different antibiotic to see if it would knock it out. It was already in the wee hours of the morning, you know what option I chose.

Arriving back home before daylight, I took more Tylenol and went to bed. Thank goodness Hubby and I had taken the week off. Instead of working through our TO DO list, I spent Monday-Thursday either in bed or in my glider-rocker. The second antibiotic worked like a charm; after the first few doses, the fever and chills disappeared. It wasn't until Friday afternoon before I even left the house. At least on Sunday I was able to work on one project on the list.




Of course since returning to my regular madhouse schedule, nothing has been done since. Maybe I'll get more done on my NEXT vacation.

Side Note: Today is my dad's birthday, he would have been 78.

2nd Time Around, Part 2

Continued from Part 1... and pics from cookout

Let's see where was I. Oh yeah..back at the hotel I crawled into bed while Hubby and son visited the pool. With increasing aches and pains and the addition of chills, the plan was to get a little sleep prior to the Meet & Greet session that night. I'd already paid for the accompanying meal. Now I know that no one should fall asleep while watching HBO because you'll never know what you'll wake to and also it could affect your dreams. Since Hubby likes to watch channels like National Geographic and Animal Planet and left the TV on a channel like those, I thought it would be safe, NOT!!! I had disturbing dreams of some anteater-looking animals that normal lived in swamps but occasionally went to land in search of food. They had webbed feet. Needless to say, my sleep wasn't restful.

Later I dragged myself downstairs to the meeting room. Being that it was well after the start time of 8pm, I thought I would be able to say hi to everyone, eat and go back to bed. At this time I thought that was finally feeling the effects of the infection and figured it would clear soon. Exiting the elevator, I saw Hubby relaxing in the lobby with my uncle, not a good sign.

In the meeting room, only about 25% of the fam was there, they were still bringing in the food, and I was STUCK. There was no way I could bail. At least I was given the Family bag of goodies before the rush started. As soon as I received it, Mom (sitting across the room) motioned for me to see inside. There was a sample box of Goody's pain and fever powders. Being a Tylenol fan, I didn't put much thought on it (little did I know then).

After what seemed to be hours, we finally ate. Afterward, Hubby said he would go get some Tylenol for me, if I wanted. The hotel didn't have a convenience shop. Well, I wanted to watch the family slideshow, so I told him I would be up when it was over. He went on upstairs while son and I stayed for the show.

I should have known my family. The slide show of donated pictures was created WITHOUT labeling the images. Almost every slide had a discussion on who was pictured. Son fell asleep before it was over. It was a great idea and hilarious seeing pictures of some folks "young and skinny" who are not now so "young and skinny" .

Back in our room, I returned to find Hubby knocked out. There was no way I would wake him. Hmmm, the Goody powders. I took a dose and went to bed. I had chills when I first crawled in, but must have gotten hot later. By the middle of the night, I had sweat-soaked everything. Thank goodness we had gotten two queen beds and the sleeper. I was spent the second half of the night on the OTHER side of my bed. It was soaked too, by the morning. Hubby would have been miserable if we had gotten a king suite. We did leave good tips, though.

That's how I survived the rest of the reunion and the drive home. Goody powders every six hours allowed me to enjoy the Saturday cookout/fun and games, and the Sunday service and brunch during the days. But still sweating all night. Oh yeah, southern cuz and I did beat the other northern cuz and his wife in three rounds of Horseshoe.



Now throughout all of this, I continued to take the antibiotics. Hubby suggested that I stop since it appeared I was having adverse effects from it. Knowing you're not supposed to stop taking antibiotics, I continued.

Next, Part 3: All night in the emergency room.

2nd Time Around, Part 1

Having the last reunion for this family not turn out as expected, there was hope for a better vacation this year having the reunion planned for the first few days followed by a week off with Hubby to complete many projects around the house. Thursday morning, 1st day of vacation, all was moving along fine even though I was running late to meet at Mom's house. Two days earlier at a physical, I was informed that I had a Urinary Tract infection. Even though I haven't had one since I was in my twenties, I figured it was just a fluke. I started taking the antibiotics that Wednesday night.

I do not recall how far along we were on I-16 before it was noticeable that there may be a problem. Hubby began asking me how I felt. Knowing that I had been living full throttle for months and was on antibiotics, I thought my drowsiness was acceptable and no cause for worry. I must have had that "something is not right" aura, because he continued to ask me how I felt. I was just glad he was doing all the driving while I dozed all the way there.

Thursday evening was uneventful, we picked up supplies from a nearby Kroger and burgers on the way back. Friday morning was fine; breakfast was at a Shoney's Buffet.


For the Black History Tour of Savannah, I thought we were going to be on a "trolley" tour bus, but we were in a fully-loaded 15-passenger van.

It was a great learning experience, in particular visiting the First African Baptist Church. It was cool seeing the memorabilia from the 18th Century.


Outside the church, we stopped at the Haitian Monument. Rode around some more and stopped at what used to be an African school which now is an art gallery and museum. I began to feel a little tired and achy. We even saw the neighborhood that my mom used to live.

The tour was ending later than expected so the driver agreed to take us directly to River Street so we wouldn't miss the boat ride. On the way there, he took us by the holding areas where slaves were kept until they were sold. They looked like open garages in a hillside adjacent to stone streets. I wished we had time to stop and take pictures and contemplate.


After a quick snack, we moved along for the river boat ride along the Savannah River. We had to wait awhile before boarding. It was around that time I realized
that "a little tired and achy" felt more like "exhaustion and painful", but there was no where to go but forward. Once the river boat started, Hubby and I went out to the deck following the kids. The most comfortable seating was on the bow.
Great view, warmth from the Sun and a relaxing breeze. I forgot that I wasn't feeling well, amazing.

Back at the hotel, I realized the worst was yet to come.

Continued in next post.

1st Time Around

The first part of my vacation was to have a relaxing fun time at my maternal grandmother's family reunion. It had to be better than two years ago when our chartered bus broke down TWICE on our way from Savannah GA to Austin TX. The first time was near 4 AM Friday morning somewhere in Mississippi. We all knew a higher power was watching over us because this breakdown began just before the exit for the Rest Area. The driver was able to make it to a decent parking area before the engine stopped. We had rest rooms, vending machines, and several benches in a well lit area. Also during this 20+ hour trip the A/C condensation ONLY dripped over the seats occupied by son and I. Because of the number of travelers, many were able to occupy double seats.
Needless to say, but I will, it was an extremely uncomfortable ride and not the best sleeping arrangements. I was one of the few who were awake and to notice the A/C was not blowing. It got warm quickly in the mid-July heat. After several hours and a patched repair job we were on our way. I was able to get a little sleep once we were on our way, after about an hour, family began to converse around 7 AM.

We were blessed during the second breakdown that Saturday. We were using the chartered bus for the tour of the city. While traveling down a winding, steep slope the bus stopped again directly across the street from a BBQ restaurant, the only level spot we had encountered. While exiting the bus and going to restaurant's parking lot, we saw antifreeze flowing to the embankment. Most of the family ate there, but as our food arrived, hubby, son and I, we had our meal packed since we were told we would be the first group to be shuttled back to the hotel so Hubby could help shuffle family using a cousin's SUV. Didn't work out that way. In the first group, there was only room for Hubby. Son and I stayed and I was in no mood to unpack our meals and eat cold food. We stayed outside as others joined us after they finished their meals.

When Hubby and the other drivers returned, I waited until all the older members had transportation. There was no room for son and I. On the next trip, hours after the first, Hubby made room for us. After traffic delays caused by Lady Bird Johnson's funeral services, we made it back to the hotel and was told another chartered bus was at the restaurant to bring those who were left. Once all was settled, we ate our meals in our room and took naps. By the time we woke and prepared for the banquet that night, the banquet was over.

Sunday's events did not go well either for us. Since many arrived in town via air transportation, many did not have means to travel to the picnic at a park not near the hotel. By the time we packed our bags, checked out of the hotel, the bus was fully loaded. There was no space for all our luggage. Like in all family there are some who can cause you to lose your cool. Since Hubby was an over-the-road driver at the time and had driven the truck there, I took the hotel's luggage cart over to his truck and loaded them there.

When we, son and I, arrived back to the bus, the only seats available were the two front seats held by the drivers of the original bus. We sat there and was hearing flack from a family member that the "DRIVERS" needed to sit there. I was getting so ticked off that I said (to myself) that the next person to say anything about us sitting there, I was going to exit the bus and go get in Hubby's truck, forget the rules that he did not have permission for any riders in the truck. It was that or say something that Grandma shouldn't here. Luckily all was quiet.

I can't recall what it was but another short-straw event happened again at the park. This time it was all I could take. I took a walk alone around the park to get myself together. By the time I rounded the area and arrived near the bus, my mom and one of her sisters met me wondering what was the problem. I told them all that had happened. In an effort to appease me, they encouraged me to select seats for the ride home. The rest of the picnic "seemed" like the horrible luck had ended.

When we left on the bus, Hubby left out too for his next route assignment. Sometime that night, somewhere in Louisiana, we met up with another bus that was to take us back to Savannah. It was a little smaller than the others, so seats were limited. I chose seats almost exactly where we were on the first bus.

All was well until we got on a not-so-smooth roadway. The window next to our seats began to pop open on one end when we hit the hardest bumps. GREAT!!! Being undone, I said nothing until we arrived back in Savannah. I told the driver, who immediately checked the window. One or two of the security clips were broken and only one clip was left holding the window closed. He thanked me for informing him and said he would get it repaired.

This was in July 2007. I was glad the next reunion was voted to be in Savannah in 2009. No bus ride necessary, but it did not go as planned also. Next post.

I'm doing a Lion King, here's Part 1 1/2

When I wrote Part 2, I was too tired to write all that happened in between Part 1 and Part 2 of my Truck Purchasing Drama. The story really didn't form until Hubby and I told it to Mom last weekend. So in tradition of the Lion King animated movies, here's what happened in between.

Being the geek that I am, I used the power of the internet in my truck search. Autotrader.com and Cars.com were my best friends. Even though most vehicles posted on their sites are 'teaser priced' to get you on the lot, at least you can get some competitive prices and negotiation power.
I expanded my search not just locally but 50 miles from my zip. This included southern ATL.

During the 1 1/2 weeks we were waiting on the Part 1 truck to be ready, I still continued the search to make sure we were getting the BEST deal, but not as aggressively as before. On Cars.com, there were several trucks in the ATL area that were still on my list but I hadn't pursued. After the ordeal in Part 1 on Tuesday, I upgraded my search again, but this time the selection was dimmer than before. I was told that used crew cab trucks are hard to find and there are many other buyers searching for them too. Even when they do come available, they do not last long.
I was not surprised, there are plenty trucks in the parking lot at work, at the grocers, and other shopping areas around here.

I became so discouraged that I began looking for SUVs, even though I knew we needed a truck. Hubby was starting day shift the next week and we needed to get something by the weekend. Earlier had mentioned to Hubby that there were a few trucks in the ATL on my list that I hadn't followed up on. He felt that ATL was too far away, we should be able to find a deal down here. But being the stubborn person I am, I could not delete them from my saved list until I at least checked them out. One was in Union City (Ford F-150) and the other in Decatur (GMC Sierra). I made contact with both.

The salesman in Union City was quick, cordial and eager for me to come take a look. The salesman in Decatur was cordial too, but seemed to move slow for me. I guess that's the no pressure demeanor for Saturn.

On Thursday, I had made arrangements to go to Union City, and also made informed the Saturn dealership (via email, his preference) that I wanted to see the Sierra while I was up there. Since I hadn't heard back from Saturn, Hubby suggested I called the General Sales Manager to try to get the ball moving. With only 11,000 miles for an '07, it was the best option we saw. It was time for me to pick up son from camp, so Hubby called for me. A few minutes later, before I could get situated in the car, Hubby called with arrangements to go see the Sierra truck first. So after picking up son and getting something to eat on the road, we were headed up I-75 to the ATL.

Now one major concern Hubby had was that the Prelude would overheat on the way, if we were caught in the most common traffic backups. I was not concerned, son and I had a prayer before we left for the Lord to get us there safely, without the car overheating. We were to drive the Sierra back home so hubby can check it out.
As I drove through the 90F degree heat, the Temp indicator rose steadily, but I kept my faith and drove on. With the indicator nearing the top, the Lord stepped in and provided us an afternoon rainshower. As it began the car temp cooled drastically. I drove on slowly knowing the Lord was getting us there, as we had prayed. The rain continued until we neared the bypass I-675, once there, the skies cleared and there was no heavy traffic. The temp needle rose again but we were almost to Decatur. We arrived not long later, having no problems.

After a test drive, loaner paperwork was done and we were on our way, except for a quick "breather" stop to see my cuz before the drive home. There was rain on the way home too, but not as heavy.

Friday morning, Hubby checked out the truck and we decided to move forward with the purchase. I spent the day trying to get all the financing and insurance taken care of with the credit union when Hubby called and said that Saturn wanted the financing and was willing to negotiate and get us a lower rate. But since we was no guarantee we would finance through them, we hurried to get a check from the CU before they closed. Thankfully, they were open later on Fridays.

Now to the big day, Saturday, we drove back up to the ATL with check in hand. We had prior given Saturn our financial info so they can get started with the credit approval. What really proves that the Lord had intervened two days earlier, this time we were in the usual traffic backups. That Prelude would have surely overheated leaving son and I stranded on the interstate.

Eventually we arrived and met with the GSM, different one than Hubby talked to Thursday, to discuss their financing offer and complete the deal. The original offer was not what we expected. The rate was lower, but with their add-ons the payment would have been higher. As Hubby and I discussed it, the GSM was giving us payment amounts with the individual options but not all. We said that we would just move forward with the credit union offer. To my surprise, he offered to match the CU payment and give us all the options and lower rate. We agreed and the deal was done. This shows it's great to have a backup plan in place when negotiating.

After the dust settled and I began to think about the search, I realized that truck had been on my list near the beginning. The Lord presented it to me, but we looked locally. We were not meant to have that truck in Part 1. I could see that then. We had worried that the Prelude would die in days and had not put our trust in the Lord to get us through.

This is another example in my life where by putting my faith in Him, He blessed us with not just what we needed, but also what we wanted. GMC Sierra is my favorite truck.

I am what I am...a trucker chic

Part 1: Of course you know, this means war! UPDATED

Part 2:
To be a trucker chic, the make is not all that matters. If it's a truck to be admired, then admire it. I am not a major Ford person, but this one caught my attention. Black with chrome package...NICE! but over 30 Grand/Stacks



This was the one that caused us much grief. Not as bold as the Ford, this Chevy Silverado met our needs. Our first truck was a 1993 Silverado. Pros: Price, Color hides dirt Con: Beige Cloth seats + 7 yr old boy = disaster




For some reason the GMC Sierra calls to me. Our previous ones (1996, 1999) served us well for years. The 1999 BIG DOG is no longer with us, but well remembered.



Son, Speed Racer enthusiast, named the Prelude "Mach 5". Years ago, it was exciting for him to see it being connected to a tow truck. It was cool following it to HI-FI Buys (alarm died). Once he realized that we were leaving it there, he boo-hoo'd all the way home. Glad it was a short trip.


Son's older now, but still having the attachment to the Mach 5, he was given the honors of naming the truck, the Prelude's replacement. So may I introduce you to BONE CRUSHER. Grandma is not trilled about the name but we gave him no naming limitations.


After finally depleting the first tank fill provided by the nice folks at Saturn Of Decatur, last evening was my turn. Yikes! can't wait till after Labor Day!



Although we had several rounds of negotiations, mainly hubby and General Sales Manager with me in the middle, all was well. They were respectful at every stage and were willing to "make the deal". We are greatly pleased.

P.S.: Key to financing negotiations: have a check in hand from one institution is a great bargaining tool when in negotiation with another.

Of course you know, this means war! UPDATED

If you've been visiting here for awhile you may be aware of my regular rants on customer service. Today was the first time since the early '90s that I've lost my cool. To think about it, today was the worst ever. Normally I am mild-mannered person and even under difficult situations, I have been known to not even raise my voice a decibel. But today was not the case.
If you've been following me on Twitter you might already know some of this, but for others, here's a little background. For the past few months, our '89 Prelude has been in the repair shop several times. After the last round and several hundred more dollars, the car began to overheat and expected to cost at least a hundred more to repair. We had to decide to sink more money into it and hope it lasts until the end of the year or purchase another vehicle.
Being under the impression that the vehicle would be taking it's last few breaths within a few days, we made a deal to purchase a truck with minor body damage. Great price, right age, and low miles. We made a deposit with good intentions, with the expectation that the warranty work would be done professionally in the told short turnaround. After a week passed with several delay excuses and without the work being completed, they provided us a rental vehicle last Friday with the expectation the truck would be ready Saturday or Monday. Well TODAY the paint job was finally completed. There's a latch also to be fix and the salesman was to get it checked out tomorrow.
This evening, during a discussion between Hubby and the Salesman this afternoon, there was a "misunderstanding" about who completed the paint job so Hubby called me to return the rental, get the Prelude and our deposit back. (Son and) I immediately left Kroger (without badly needed groceries) heading to dealership.

Being my normal calm and composed self, I spoke to the salesman and then the sales manager, the used sales manager was not on site. Within a few minutes, the "misunderstanding" was resolved and they brought out the truck for my inspection. Now prior, I had been given the "oh, it looks great!" snow job. On first look, the work seemed ok. But after further inspection, I noticed curvature where there not should have been and bulges that looked worse than the back of my thighs. Salesman talked to Hubby on my phone and was telling him how "GREAT" the truck looked and the "painter" wanted to do a second wet sand later to give it a better look. He then left to "talk" to someone. I finally had a chance to tell Hubby how really crappy it looked. He agreed with me to stop the deal.

Now before I went back inside to get the "men", I said a prayer on whether I should accept what they were dishing or continue to get out of it. I also prayed to my birth father too, he was the one to teach me how to deal with car salesmen. There were no signs, so I moved on ahead.

I got them outside to show them what I disliked. I can't remember every word of the conversation but I did not accept "song and dance" that the sales manager began giving to me. Had the nerve to say that I had to wait till Friday for the return of the Used Car sales manager since he was the one who made the deal. That didn't make sense. Someone had to be a decision maker in his absence. Would you believe it was HIM, but he said that he WOULDN'T make a decision without the other guy and I HAD to wait. I do recall next my hand flailing at the adjacent building and their Lexus lot across the street as I stated their should be SOMEONE else who could make a decision. He mentioned Mr. "Man" (who owns 11 dealerships). So I stated I should expect a call from Mr. Man in the morning. I guess that wasn't the response he expected and quickly stated that he doesn't know his schedule.

This "song and dance" went on for too long enough. I can't recall what was said, but I know I was loud, arms swinging back and forth. Eventually I told them that I was leaving and to give me my keys. They were in the car parked on the other side of the truck. Son and I went back in building to get my (work) things. It was then that I realized that probably EVERYONE was out there watching the scene unfold. There was so much "red and white shirts" around. (I don't plan to reveal the dealer manufacturer at this time.)
On the way to my Prelude I had to pass the truck. I did not look at them directly, but there were now several more men there, crowding the truck at the area of my dissatisfaction. Once in the car, son and I got situated. He quickly made me aware that I had used the "H-word" several times, I wholeheartedly apologized and had to explain to him what had me so upset. Before pulling off, the salesman came to my window and asked me to wait.
Being that this car SHOULDN'T be idled, I turned it off, we exited, and waited at its rear. I got back on the phone with Hubby. By this time, I was cool again but that quickly changed. Mr. Sales Manager, said he talked to the other manager and said they could TRY to work on the repair again. My response was "how could I expect a professional job the second time around if you couldn't do it the first time." NO DEAL. He also said that they wouldn't return my deposit since they had already done work and they paid for the rental. I lost it again. It wasn't my fault that THEY did a poor job, it took longer than expected, and they provided the rental as previously agreed on deal day. He talked all about "their" inconveniences. We ended it as he would talk to the General Manager in the morning and I would make "my calls".

Later I received a call from the salesman with his "I got your back" spill. I listened and responded as a "sista" to play along. He is supposed to talk to the GM in the morning too, they "tight". Uh-huh, we'll see.

Well, I'm tight with a different GM, I prayed and felt the strength to endure whatever was thrown at me. I still do. We'll see what happens tomorrow, but this was quite unexpected with this industry and this economy.

Victory Thru Hair Power: This new fro works.

UPDATE: Within an hour of calling Toyota Customer Service this morning, I received a call from the dealership's Customer Service department informing me that I would receive my deposit back. Those folks have been apologizing all day, even after the refund was applied to my card. The refund transaction hasn't appeared on my account yet, so until then...

End Of Days is here

I had no idea of how well of a fictional writer I was until yesterday. Last week I wrote Brawl at Summer Camp not knowing that son would be involved in an altercation this week. The incident was not as involved as my imagination had portrayed, it was just him and an older girl. I can’t cite the details as I do not know yet the full story. Basically niece did not budge when she watched a portion of incident and she joined the defense of the girl.

Whether it was “divine intervention”, “Lord works in mysterious ways”, or just coincidence, as some may feel, but it was a blessing that Sis needed me to drop off niece to Mom’s on my way home. In the approximate 10 minutes drive, their incessant bickering pushed me to my “I’m turning the both of you over to Grandma” limit.

In a way, Mom was pleased we had the opportunity to get to the heart of the HATE portion of their LOVE/HATE relationship. It took some prying but we were able to force verbalization of their feelings for one another. Whether it’s called the “Devil”, “Satan”, or “Anti-Christ”, the name doesn’t matter, but what they had to understand is that they are following it instead of God and the teachings of Jesus. A person can’t follow both evil AND good as they are opposite.

It was emotional for me as for 7 ½ months, they lived in my home as siblings. Both agreed that their friction increased during that time. It should have been expected as both had prior lived as an “only” child in a household and then had to adjust to sharing time, space, and attention from “parent(s)”. In some aspect their relationship did grow as they had someone readily for playtime when indoors, even though they wouldn’t admit it.

Thankfully, after techniques of role-reversal and eye-contact communication, they both admitted that they loved the other, but frequently disliked each other. It was a start.

This situation applies to not just them but our society. There is so much hatred and no love for the fellow person. This hatred does not always personify as physical violence, there is ignorance of homeless, spread of sexual diseases, bigotry, envy, road-rage, and something simple as negative assumptions.

In reference to the “End of Days” as written in the Book of Revelation in the Holy Bible, some recant the time as the physical destruction of the world, but what about the destruction of Love. It would seem that this destruction should matter more as this physical world does not exist in Heaven.

We pray that ‘thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven”, but can we ever expect “peace on Earth”?

Goal Complete: Garage

Even though I did not achieve this milestone in the planned one year anniversary date of living in our home, but having this complete is a great feeling. With the approaching switch of vehicles this week, it wouldn't be polite to dump my car to Hubby in it's current internal condition. This dictated my weekend goal to wash it externally and detail the interior (as much as possible). To do this right, the correct environment had to be in order.

Way back when before ipods and mp3 players, there were these huge bulking monstrosities that played music and had internal speakers for sharing the listening pleasure. Some provided music from radio stations, some from cassettes and others from CD players. They were called Boomboxes. If you had a combination boombox that had more than one feature, you were in hog heaven. I still have one of such, a JVC brand that has all three, AM/FM radio, cassette player and CD player. The chosen source was the radio fixed on a local radio station that claims to play classic soul hits from 60s, 70s, and 80s. Along with the boombox was need for a portable fan, nothing expensive required. A box or circular fan would do. Finalizing the setup, would be unlimited source of ice water. Having the proper environment, the work began.

The first part of this task was easy, especially with the recent paint jobs. Early Saturday morning, son and I began working, me on the body, him on the tires. After about an hour or so, we were done with the exterior.
Before moving on to the interior, reality set in. It was approaching mid-day and getting increasingly hotter by the minute. Heat index values in upper 90's, hence, the interior work had to be done in the shade, and the garage clearing had to be completed first.

As you can see, the initial state of this area was monumental. After a year of pecking away, only little remained, but enough to consume an afternoon of work. It was spent hours and hours, box after box, sorting, storing, and discarding, item after item until no more to be done by me. Some of Hubby's cabling supplies remained, but they are not on MY to do list. The evening ended with a much awaited, "AAAAHHHHHH, finally done".

The second part of this task, was harder than the first. Having the shade, music and ice water on hand helped but from being muscle-fatigued from the previous day's activities did not help the situation. After we removed of trash, mainly son's normal seating area, and thorough vacuum, the daunting task of cleaning the leather seat covers began. Leaving the worst for last, son's seating area, I began on the front seats. Being that this was required use of "adult" materials, son was released from cleaning duty.

Thankfully, Hubby woke from his slumber and volunteered his assistance. Under different circumstances I "might" have requested his assistance, but since he worked the night before, I left him to the Sandman. Hubby began on son's disaster area while I continued with the front seating. Hubby worked on the back carpets as I cleaned the floor rugs. Remembering the recently purchased carpet cleaner, I used it to finish the job.


By late afternoon, the two-for-one job was over. Garage neat and clean car. The three of us wound down in garage, sitting around the fan, devouring freeze-pops and admiring a family task well-done and began to think, "All we need now is a BBQ".

Chop, Chop, Chop

All the relaxed hair is gone and now natural fro.

Pics posted in my Task-Oriented Blog.

Next: complete other goals in list.

Goal Complete: Hair

Hair: transition hair from relaxed to natural

I couldn't take it any longer. I was loving the feel and texture of my natural more and more each day and disliking the feel an texture of my relaxed just as much.

The humidity here has destroyed many time-consuming and costly hairstyles.

So tonight at a visit to a salon to temporarily rid the gray that my son has given me (gray-rate increased rapidly after son was born), as soon as I walked in, I told my stylist to cut it off. I had been transitioning for 27 weeks, yesterday.

Surprisingly to "the me of 6 months ago", I had no hesitation and no regrets.

On the drive home, through thick fog, I had the sunroof open. Woohoo!

Here's some before shots:



It's scary to see how others view your hair from behind.


Doesn't seem much of a loss.


Initial "dry" cut, kinda crazy looking


Final back (still a little wet)


Final front (this forehead runs in dad's family line)


Mom's reaction
You look like your Aunt and Cousin J (dad's side)

Son's reaction (while he giggled)
What happened to your hair? Why did they do that?

In preparation for Hubby's reaction in the morning, I stopped by the Caribbean Restaurant next door to the salon to bring home Oxtails and Red Beans and Rice.


As a styling option, stylist said my hair has a natural curly pattern. If she texturized it, with the gel, I could have a curly fro. Since it's still chemicals, I plan to research other options.

Brawl at Summer Camp

After all my hard research in locating a Summer Camp for son and niece to attend, what do I get in their first week? You would figure that a place that "supposedly" certifiably teaches Character Choices, Abstinence until Marriage, and Conflict Resolution coupled with the Camp being held in the Family Life Center of a Missionary Baptist Church would be able to handle a group of 30 youngsters with the goal of 100 and capacity to handle 150.

It is still hard to believe what occurred when I arrived to pick them up this afternoon. Even before entering the main hall from its primary external door, I could hear incoherent, but unmistakable yells and calls of a fight. Mind you, I haven't heard such since high school over 20 years ago, but still recognizable. Rushing in, my first thoughts were "WHERE ARE MY KIDS?!!!".

Moving like a swarm of killer bees, the crowd moved around the room through the maze of circular tables and surrounding chairs, but constantly encircling the confrontation. Even now, I can see them in slow motion jeering and actually enjoying the carnage. As I made my way closer looking for my kids, and trying not to crush any onlookers, I could see glimpses of several instructors trying to separate the fight participants. I did not focus on them as I was still scanning the crowd.

Even though these events happened within a minute or two of my entrance into the hall, relatively it felt like hours. Eventually the center of the crowd moved in my direction, kids floated around me where the yelling and screaming being magnified in the spacious 20ft ceiling hall. All of a sudden I was in the eye of the storm. A hurricane because then I found my kids, with bloodied faces, on the floor entangled along with several adults and three or four other kids, my son being the smallest.

I don't know how loud I streaked but the entire room fell "pin drop" silent. Being in a Christian facility I hoped my language was appropriate, even now I still don't remember what I said and I'm too afraid to ask.

Then as a stone being skipped on a lake, the mob quickly rippled away. The sorting of kids and interviews began as the maintenance personnel attempted to restore order to the hall. I followed the director as he led my kids away to be interviewed. A woman from the kitchen staff arrived with wet cloths and began cleaning their faces that was beginning to swell. I couldn't do anything but look and listen.

Basically this was the story. A few boys began teasing my son about the amount of food he had been consuming for the past few days. This was no surprise to me because the boy can EAT. He has an extremely high metabolism and is constantly active. He began to get upset and then my belligerent niece stepped into the mix to defend him. Nudging began and converted to pushing and then strikes. Seeing her being struck, my son began to attack back. The rest is self-explanatory.

Being that it was the first week and the Camp management understood that there may be clashes in personalities, so they put all the kids on probation. At least that's one battle settled. As soon as they were excused, we left as quickly as possible through the repositioned tables and chairs not before me giving the "evil eye" to the other kids in the altercation.

Exiting the building, my thoughts were about my mom. My parents had always taught us to not physically fight, but to find alternate means of conflict resolution. Now I have the daunting task of informing her that her two oldest grandchildren were fighting.

Once we reached the car, I noticed the time. Hubby was waiting at home for our return so he could use my car to get to work. His car was at the repair shop. I already had left work late and was now an additional half-hour delayed. On the 30-minute ride home, I had to explain to him what I have told you. He wasn't happy that he would be extremely late for work, but surprisingly, he was pleased that they stood up for each other. Me too, actually. We've always wondered what they would do if a situation like that arose.

As I sit here, comfortably in my office chair, writing this post, I can envision the first image of them, on the floor, each pulling on a child's leg, like I'm pulling yours.

I hope you enjoyed this piece of fiction. Love Sista GP, LOL

Journal #1

Journal Entry 1 (draft)
Journal, I need to tell you what happened starting last night. I have to tell someone or I’ll just lose my mind. Well you know how I walk around talking to myself. So last night I was doing it again and complaining about how it was Friday night and all my girlfriends were out with their men and I was home alone, AGAIN, craving masculine companionship. Now I know my laments were exasperated by the second glass of White Merlot I was sipping, but it was true. I know I can’t compete with models but I’m well kept, I exercise, eat right, and dress decent too. So, why I don’t have man? Well other than being extremely selective in mates, highly opinionated and routine-oriented, I was thinking what was wrong with me, you know.

In order to better my mood, I was wearing my favorite white satin lace-trimmed nightie. You know the one I got from VS to match my finished bedroom. You should know what happened next, as I was pacing the room I began to admire it again. Not trying to be boastful, but I did an excellent job. My master suite is perfect, just like it’s inspiration in that décor magazine. Once I saw it, you know I had to have it. I’d been searching for months for the right look.

There was plenty of room to work with being 23 ft by 15 ft. There’s enough space for the master suite to have six feet of space beyond each antique cherry-stained nightstand adjacent to the matching king-sized 4-poster bed. A burgundy settee flanks one wall in that space as matching Victorian armless chairs flanks the opposing wall. The antique mahogany cedar chest inherited from my great-grandmother accentuates the foot of the bed. You know I had to sit down on the bed and swirl my fingertips along the white Egyptian linens and duvet.

Then he called. The ringing of the nightstand portable phone startled me back to reality. It was Mathias. You know, MrFlirt. I played it cool, as sober as possible, “Hello”.
He started laying on thick, “Hi, Scrumptious, how are you this fine evening?”
Still trying to sound sober, “I’m well Mathias, and you?”
“Glad you asked, Delicious, I’m real sleepy. I’m driving from Florida and too tired to make it home. I was wondering if I could rest tonight at your place and continue my journey tomorrow.”
My first thoughts were NO WAY, not tonight. I’m too buzzed to have a fine man in the house. But then how could I turn away a friend into a dangerous situation. I must have been gone to forget there were several motels at the interstate exit to my home because I said, “Sure, you can, the guest room is available. When will you get here?”
He laughed and said “Soon.”
Trying to stay focused, I asked, “How soon is soon?” He laughed again and then the doorbell rung. I almost screamed.
Calmy, I said “Oh you’re funny. Give me a sec.” And hung up the phone. I ran to my bathroom, checked my hair and face and grabbed the long matching robe to my nightie. I know, I know it wasn’t the best attire to be greeting guests, especially this one but I had no time to change.

Flipping on the porch light, before opening the door, I felt I was in trouble and in for a long night. I could see his gleaming seductive eyes through the arched glass panels in the door.


...okay blog fam, should I continue writing this story? I'm thinking of starting a collection of random fictional journal entries.


Note: everything in this blog is automatically copyrighted.

And then there were 3 (post #100)

It's coincidental that the topic of my 100th post relates to one written almost 50 posts ago, the arrival of my niece for temporary residence into our home.

Although, not all goals were achieved, there were many accomplishments in areas of personal growth and confidence, diet and exercise, and chore routines. We desired more effectiveness in her academics, but it is difficult or just mere impossible to help someone that rarely allows you to assist. Perhaps with more time and different academic environment, the results would have been different. As a slight consolation we had to remember, not all could have been expected in a mere seven months.

Last Friday was the last day of her school term and she moved back home. We pray that any positive experiences she had in our home, she will remember and incorporate them in her journey to be a successful young woman.

To my surprise, my son has not expressed much sadness for her departure, being that she was like a sibling to him. He had grown more than I thought.

We miss you already, De-De.

Aunt Ne-Ne

Goal: deadling approaches

This weekend is the one year anniversary of being in this home. I had a deadline of having all unpacking done by this weekend. Since we are no way near of completion of this task, you can probably guess the plans I have for this weekend. Since it is late and I need to rest for the upcoming body aches from a marathon unpacking sessions, blog with you later.