The Neighborhood: Gentrification

A recent evening I was walking my dog when a neighbor said hello to me.  Nothing unusual there.  He continued looking at me as I passed by.  He then asked, "Did you cut your hair?"  I responded, "Yes."  As I walked away I thought about my neighbor saying hello and commenting on my hair.  I noticed that he noticed me.  My neighborhood is changing and there are new neighbors who have moved in and unfortunately some are not so friendly.  I have extended greetings and some look right through me and walk by without a response.  There is one particular "new neighbor" whom I have said hello to more than once.  I know he hears me and yet he does not respond.  Sometimes this lack of acknowledgement can be stunning.  Just trying to be neighborly. 

Gentrification has come to my neighborhood and unfortunately some who have moved in look at me as though I don't belong there.  Meanwhile, I have lived on my block for 61 years.  There are still some old neighbors on the block and we have known each other since childhood and younger years.  To be fair, there are some new neighbors who do speak, are very friendly and guess what, they are not spoken to as well by the other newcomers.

There are times when I would like to ask my new neighbors about themselves but, they don't speak to me.  Oh well!  

A Mariner's Daughter and Gifts: I Am Grateful

Today's Marc and Angel Hack Life blog post touches upon gratitude.  Thanksgiving is two days away and the subject of being thankful usually comes up. So today I am thankful for my father and his thoughtfulness.  Below is just a snapshot of how much he thought about us at home.  Although I am writing about material things, it is the man behind the sentiment that I am recalling.

In a previous post I mentioned that my father was a merchant marine seaman.  What comes to my mind are the gifts that he used to bring home for us.  From India he brought my sister and I slippers.  Here is a funny story about those slippers:  They were beautiful but, they had slippery bottoms.  Going upstairs was no problem.  But I fell down the stairs every time I came back down.  You would have thought that after the first fall I would have learned but, I didn't.  I didn't want to take them off.  That's how beautiful they were.  My father thought about me and my little feet.

My father would also voyage to the Republic of Panama and one time he brought home carved leather schoolbags for my sister and I and a handbag for my mother.  He thought about how I could carry my books.

Perfume was another gift that my father brought home to us.  He was the first and only man who ever gave me perfume.  I don't know what country he brought the scents from, but we wore the fragrances proudly. Daddy bought this perfume for us: we were growing up. Our perfumes came beveled bottled, tasseled, small and large.  Each and every one exquisite.

From Japan my father brought us silk pajamas. Beautiful artwork accompanied the feel of silk that was our sleeping gear.  He thought about how comfortable we would be sleeping in luxury. 

As I look back I want to thank my father for thinking of us and exposing us those special gifts that made us feel special.  Even though we were young and did not necessarily appreciate what we had, I look back and I see a man who thought enough about us to expose us to a smidgen of what he saw and experienced as he traveled the world.  Thank you Pai.  I love you.

A Needed Voice

One of the blogs that I consistently follow is that of life coach, Valorie Burton.  I stumbled upon her blog a few months ago.  I'm glad I did.  On her blog, Valorie writes about those aspects of life that everyone goes through:  death, joy, disappointments, happiness, frustration, fear, dreams, fulfillment; you name it she touches upon the subject.  I love that she is also a Christian and will quote scriptures unabashedly.  As a life coach, she will reveal those things that you don't want to hear such as telling you to walk away from a dead relationship or stop being lazy (or afraid) and get off the couch.  Most importantly, she encourages you.  We need people like her in our lives because we become comfortable and don't want to move out of our zone.  Life can become stagnant.  Having another's voice ring in your ears and crystallize what you already know or need to know can lead to life changing breakthroughs.  Check her out.

Stuff Unloading

Have you ever had so much stuff in your head that you sometimes feel overloaded?  You get some out, here comes more stuff .  That's me.  Sure you can have conversations with others.  But, what if no one is around, it's late or you just don't want to speak directly to anyone?  Thank you Jesus.  I have found a way to get it all out of my head.  The log jam is now unloggedjammed (just made this word up.)  BLOGGING!  I have stuff.  I have found that, the experience of writing produces more writing.  Never in a million years did I think that I would have a blog.  Right now it's fun, somewhat cathartic and has many possibilities.  I have that much stuff in the noggin.   I have even influenced a friend who has started a blog (www.thefuneralculture.wordpress.com).  Check her out.  Consequently, for those of you who have something to say, think about starting a blog.  You are in control.  Unclog the jam.  Unload your stuff- Stuff Unloading.    

Bon Appetit

I read cookbooks like others read novels.  Reading a cookbook for me is very relaxing.  Do I usually make the recipe?  No.  However, I can read a recipe and see myself measuring, baking, stewing etc.  I have a very vivid imagination and can even taste the finished dish.  Don't ask me how or why, I have been this way for a while.  In my library I must have about fifty cookbooks by way of book clubs, yard sales, clearance tables etc.  I just love them. Going online is what I do now.  Food Network, Cooking Channel, Allrecipes, etc.  I'm there.  Sometimes I realize that hours have passed, that's how engrossed I am in my books.  Now, don't get me wrong, I will have a taste for something and if I don't already know how to make it, I will search out the recipe.  It's just that I like reading cookbooks for relaxation.  I travel along with my recipes.  If it is a paella, I'm in Spain; lasagna-Italy, falafel-the Middle East.  I've been to every continent. Try it!  Bon appetite! 

Five Words

Experiencing these five words are glorious.  When I have it I am exhilarated.  When I don't have it I become confused.  When I don't have enough of it I suffer.  Sometimes I have it eight times a day; sometimes four times a day.  Believe it or not I have gone days without it.  Crazy I know.  I know many people who have it and have it more often then me.  They can have it all day long no matter what.  I just had it.  What power; what intoxication!.  I am soothed.  What is it?  A cool glass of water.

Colors

I love colors.  I of course have noticed them before but, I guess I can say I never appreciated them as I do now.  My attention to colors has been activated.  The turning leaves, leave me breathless.  Sunrise will stop me in my tracks and I will chase a sunset.  Don't get me started on rainbows-such magnificence!  My most recent discovery of colors has been in Bollywood movies:  brilliant reds; the brightest of blues and sunburst yellows make their artistic debuts swirling all around; making me giddy.

My eyes are instantly attracted to colors.  If I see a flash of color I want to know what it is.  I will follow a lost colorful balloon heavenward as far as my eyes can see.  I love it.  The green of a green pepper will cause me to gape.  The purple of plums makes my eyes twinkle and the red of a red grapefruit makes me salivate.  Colors keep on coming.