Friday, November 21, 2014

Friday Afternoon Funk (Freestyles, I Mean)

What's up to all of y'all...

I am feeling GREAT. Because it is PAYDAY!

And I can ball for a couple hours! Big Ballin' LadyLee!

Ball Ball Ball 'til we Fall Fall Fall!!!

*tosses $1000 bills high in the sky and breaks out all the bling-bling*

Ball... Until it's time to pay my bills.

I take all 100 rings off my fingers. And I put them back into the Jewelry box. 

Balling all over. Back to being that Oldgirl...

Your Friendly Neighborhood Oldgirl LadyLee.

Well well well... When I watch the news, I see how COLD it is. And it's been cold in the ATL. But alas, it's been a really nice day today in my beloved ATL... The early morning temps were middling in the 20s early this week, but the temps are hovering in the 60s right now. Thank goodness for that. And my heart goes out to you all up north with all that snow. Ugh. No snow here. And you know we get upset down here in the ATL if ONE snowflake hits the ground. We will shut the city completely down, honey. Shut it down.

Work has been QUIET. And slow. I can't say I like it like that. I resort to clock watching of the worse kind. And we can't have that. 

We are up for a rainy dreary weekend. At least it won't be snow or ice. And the temp will be in the 60s. Good enough for me.

I don't have many plans. Chores and reading. And I have a new crochet project underway. No going off to the workplace this weekend (thank goodness for that!).

A nice quiet weekend in store. Thankful for it.

My sister and I have been discussing Thanksgiving. I going to her house this year. She's making a pot roast. I will bring a couple of sides. And I will stuff a $50 dollar bill off in her purse to help her out with the grocery bill. It's just the two of us, but I know how she likes to go all out. As long as I can leave it all there, that's cool. 

Quote of the Week.  You know how much I like quotes. I heard a couple this morning on television while getting ready for work. Here's one of them.

Excuses are reasons stuffed with lies.

Oh my. It's interesting how much meaning can be stuffed tight into six short words.

I think we all make excuses. I know I I do. But I have learned to spend a little time looking at what's underneath the excuses. I've learned to try to just stop lying to myself. And that quote lets me know I'm doing the right thing.

Songs of the Week. I've been listening to some Mary J. Blige.

This song right here is the most AWESOME song ever.  "Your Child" by Mary J. Blige

I love a song that tells a good story. And that song does it for me. Yes it does.

But I've always been partial to young Mary. You know, the young 22 year old Mary.

The Mary who was dranking too much and snorting too much cocaine.

THAT Mary.

She made her best music ever... under the influence.


"What's the 411?"

And my favorites off the My Life Album... when she was still dranking too much. When she was all messed up in the head over K-Ci of Jodeci...

"I'm the Only Woman"

And "Be Happy"

Now if that don't take you back 22 years, I don't know what will.

I think I have a whole Spotify playlist on my phone with at least 40 of Mary's songs. Put that on random and hook it up to house speakers in my living room and I can get some GOOD house cleaning done. Good house cleaning.  

Mary and I are the same age. And we have done many of the same things. The only difference is that she has had to live her life out in the public eye. I haven't.

And Lord knows I've done more than my fair share of... questionable tomfoolery.

My fair share indeed.

But I have loved her development over the years. If she was still as ratchet at the age of 44 as she was at the age of 22, that would be a different story.

The lesson here is that we are ALL always under construction.

Until the very day... until the very minute we die.

And we all need to remember that... on purpose.

Welp! The holidays are upon us!  I'm working half days all week.

I told my boss... "Uh... I will git here when I git here."

As long as I work my 4 hours, honey.

She kicked the hard eyeroll. The X-tra hard eyeroll.


And that is alright. It is.

Ya'll have a great weekend. On purpose.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Cats (with No Names)

So once me and and Grandma "got our exercises", we retired to her backyard.  She gave me a tour.

And there was a lot going on.  Lot's of planters and decorations randomly scattered all about. I am sure there was plenty of method to the madness, but I couldn't figure it out.

But look closely at this picture.
I was highly interested in the clothesline. It's a little hard to see, but that's a REAL clothesline. It's set up with three lines of hard wire. That was awesome. I would love to have a clothesline.

And I really like this rug.

Little black girls praying. I've never seen a rug like that before.

That's on the carport, where my Uncle Tweet repairs lawn mowers and trimmers.

And the carport is where his cats eat.

There's no bowl or anything. He just grabbed a couple of handfuls of dry cat food from a garbage bag and scattered it on the ground.

How... uncivilized. But the cats were happy to have it, as you can see.

"So what are your cats' names?"

"Big Red," he said.

He reached down and petted a cat.

Uh, I suppose and assume the one he petted was Big Red."

"So," I continued when he didn't answer. "What's the other cats' names?"

"They don't have names."


Wow. So much went through my mind at that moment.

Cats with no names. There was a food-for-thought message in that.

And I think there still is.

I just haven't figured it out yet.

Then a BIG black cat showed up out of nowhere.
It made me jump back a step.

I guess he (or she) with no name was late to the party. But it got in there and ate with the rest.
We watched as the cats ate all the food off the ground.   I thought about snatching one up and taking it home to play with Callie, but they are feral, and would tare my house (and Callie) completely apart.

I let that thought go.

Then Grandma and I went back in the house.

We left Uncle Tweet, and the cats with no names, to themselves.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Exercises with Grandma

My Grandma is always saying, in her small slight voice, "I need to get my exercises."

This means that she needs to get out and go for a walk. And she rarely does that if she has to do it alone. I told her, she can walk to the end of the driveway and back just a few times and that will be fine. She can walk one house up, and one house down, and that will be just fine too.

She nodded.

And I don't know what the head nods means.

"Do you want me to come over and walk with you one afternoon?" I asked.

She nodded again and smiled. "Yes Lisa, that would be real nice."

"Okay," I said.

So I went over one dreary afternoon and we went outside to walk.

Before we left the front porch, she grabbed a huge heavy stick.

"This here is my stick I walk with," she said.

"And it's a big stick," I said.

"This here is for in case the dogs come at us," she added.

And she know how to hold it, too...

That's that special Black Belt Ninja stance and hold right there.

We could rest assured that if any dog or any other animal or robber come at us, Grandma had it under control.

That would be one dead dog or person that day. That's just how heavy that stick was.

So we set out for our walk. We walked down the street, which amounted to half a block, then back up. We were going to do this for as long as she could stand it.  And this was a slow walk. I usually walk upwards of 3 miles in one hour when I am walking alone. But she walks really slow. So it took us some 10 minutes to walk down the block, and back.

I took a few pictures of the houses on the street. Like most inner city neighborhoods, the neighborhood has gone downhill. Boarded up houses dot the streets. There was a clearing down the street where I would wait for the afternoon train and wave at the conductor and he would blow the horn. It was good to see that, even though it's a bit overgrown now.

And it's always good to see my great-grandmother's house:

She passed over 30 years ago, when I was 12. But I practically lived with her and Uncle Olin and Otis here up until the age of 5 or so. She lived next door, to the left of my maternal grandparents. She loved to watch her "stories" in the afternoon, and my grandmother would arrive home for her job around 3:30 pm. This excited me, because I could leave and go to her house and watch the afternoon cartoons.

And then there's this house, which is on the other side of my great-grandmother's house.
I shudder when I see this house.

Why? Because I got stung by a bee one day. I was 6 years old, and I was playing next to a bush and out of nowhere... STUNG. There was some random man walking down the street, and I ran screaming and hollering into his arms. He scooped me up and knocked on the front door. I don't remember much after that.

(But I don't think that is a good idea, running and jumping in strange people's arms).

Anyway, Great-Grandma Minnie took me next door. There were some old ladies sitting up on the steps. The owner of the house, Mrs. Mac, peered at me curiously as my great-grandma explained how I'd been stung on the back of my hand by a bee.

I liked Mrs. Mac.  She was really nice to me. Always yelled "Hey Lisa" as I walked (or rode my big wheel or my bike) around the corner to the corner store for my bag of Funyuns and orange Nehi soda. And she was really light-skinned with what was called "that good hair". At one time, I thought that she was white. I asked Great-grandma about it. She said she wasn't, and that was that Massa blood in her. O_o.

(Not sure one should tell this to a small child. I thought about that for days).

Anyway, Mrs. Mac grabbed my hand and grabbed some of the snuff she was chewing on out of her mouth and slapped it on the back of my hand.


I was too shocked to cry.  I remember the huge intake of hot summer air, the large gasp.

Nearly 40 years later, I can still see the sticky beige goo on the back of my hand.  All the old ladies were staring at me. I knew not to wipe it off.

"Leave that on there for awhile," Mrs. Mac instructed. "It take the sting out."

I don't remember much after that. I must've been shocked the rest of the day.  It must've worked, because I was back to playing outside the rest of the summer.

All these years, even now, I dare not go by the bush where I got stung. No way. No sir.

Grandma and I talked of all this while we "got our exercises." It's funny how I can still see and feel the vibrancy of the neighborhood circa 40 years ago, even through the dilapidation.  I can still hear my grandparents neighbors greeting me. I can still hear the train coming down the railroad tracks.

I hate that is all lost.

But it truly isn't lost.

It's alive in my heart.

(And I'm glad of that).

Good Sleep... Once again.

Sista Callie Jo, in all her kitteness, likes to sleep a lot.

She's pontificating in that photo. Maybe she is thinking about Oscar-Tyrone and how she misses him so. She misses their many fights, and how he use to kick her azz.

I do understand that, Sista Callie. One must sit quietly and remember an Oldcat.  I miss him too. *sniffing back tears*

But it bothers me when she feels the need to lay up on me.

Here she is laying up on me, right between my legs as I lounge on the sofa.

Stretched out, legs wide open. Good grief, Sista Callie.

This is odd, as she is not the type of cat that jumps up in my lap for attention. I just happen to be laying on the sofa and she decided to lay between my legs. Sigh.

And she was getting that good sleep... once again.

Sadly she was jarred awake when I jumped up off the sofa. The look of bewilderment on her face was priceless.

Too bad I couldn't get a picture of that!

Friday, November 14, 2014

Friday Freestyles

I tell you one thing...

I am thankful it's Friday, but it is COLD in the ATL.

29 degrees this morning.


I can deal with this cold weather better than it being azz hot.

It was so cold last night that I made my yearly trek to my local beauty supply store and bought some cheap gloves, a scarf and a hat. Granted I don't spend much time outside, I have very little hair. I'm just trying to keep the heat from escaping from the top of my head.  That is all.

This has been a quiet week at work. Not sure why. I have had much time to stare and pontificate.

My major goal was to get the job applications filled out. I am thankful for someone who set me down and walked me through the whole electronic process. I am old school, where I fill out stuff by hand.  It's been 5 years since I applied for anything, and around here, things are so political that I just decided not to waste the time to do so.  But management has run up on me so hard about it (yes, it is all still political), so I just do what I am told.

BUT, and this is a big but... my entire goal was to figure the system out so that I can apply for bigger things.... 


That was my goal. No, that is my goal. Period.

So that has been my accomplishment for the week. If you want to call it that.

Right now, I am more concerned about this cold weather. I don't want to even leave the house this weekend. But surely I will... Errands, errands, and more errands to run!

Picture of the Week.  Some of us keep our supervisor's candy jar stocked up.

That's  a lot of candy.  I have learned that it keeps the traffic over in my cubicle for my candy stash down. And that's a good thing for me and my on purpose antisocial moody self.

Like I said, that' s a lot of candy. But that's not a candy jar. That's an old school candy dish.

I've been joning her out about it. "That look like something you stole from somebody's grandma!"

She gives me the hard eye roll. The extra hard eye roll. 

I don't know where she got it. But I am sure it was not purchased brand new. That's from the thrift store or somebody's flea market!

As long as it holds candy, who cares. And if that candy dish falls off her desk, it will never break. That's how good that old school glassware is.

Song of the Week. I like REAL female rappers. Not sure what's going on with these sisters now, but it looks like they rapping for the dudes. And the vocabulary doesn't veer much from the use of the word "bitch". Not sure why they all wanna diss each other like that. And no, I don't want to see females near butt-nekked gyrating on the floor spitting sub-par rhymes. No...

I'd rather have some Nikki D... "Daddy's Little Girl"

I like a little storyline with my rap music. I'm just saying. Spin me a tale, please. Make me think.

That is it for me!

My boss is gone. I am in charge the rest of the day. Sigh. I have already gotten on the phone to make sure someone finishes up today. "I'm just trying to catch you before you go speeding down I-20, gal!" I holler.

Yes. I need the rest of the day to go smooth. No hiccups. Not while I am in charge. No ma'am. No sir.

I am looking forward to quitting time...

So I can get my weekend started...

On Purpose!