“Mom.”
“Mom! I gotta this time!”
“Richie, I told you not to drink that damn Big Gulp! You had your chance when we pulled over at that truck stop for your sister. This car is not stopping until we get to Grandma’s.”
Category Archives: Blogging challenge
Just My Cup of Tea
Tonight my friend Susan and I enjoyed one of our favorite monthly events, the A Taste of India Fundraising Dinner for The Learning Tea at Dr. Bombay’s Underwater Tea Party.
The Learning Tea is a non-profit organization, created by the owners and staff of Dr. Bombay’s, dedicated to providing housing, tuition, clothing, food, opportunities and a supportive family environment for young orphaned women in India.
Why do we love these dinners so much that we mark them eagerly on our calendars and snap up our tickets the second the first email invite goes out?
First of all – it’s an amazing deal. A delicious 3-course vegetarian Indian meal for $20. While I certainly like vegetables, I do like meat as well, especially for dinner, when I’m expecting something substantial. The Indian food served at A Taste of India is freshly prepared, flavorful without being too spicy and varied enough in texture and flavor that you never “miss the meat.” With appetizers, entree and dessert included, I always end up leaving stuffed and quite happy.
Secondly, they throw in a glass of wine (or two) along with the dinner. Plus they’ll let you bring in your own bottle – tonight we were celebrating Susan’s birthday, so I brought a favorite rose sparkling wine.
Thirdly (do you still need reasons at this point?)
Thirdly, Samosas.
It’s a warm and charming atmosphere, filled with a good-natured, happy bunch of diners. Seating is community style, on long trestle-style tables, so you are surrounded on all sides by groups of friends, often celebrating occasions of their own.
But most importantly, with each bite, you know you’re helping someone create a life for themselves, against the odds. The girls helped by The Learning Tea “life scholarships,” come from a world of extreme poverty. Without the safe home and educational opportunities provided by the non-profit, they would at best be consigned to a life of unskilled labor, carrying bricks, breaking rocks for concrete or rolling cigarettes – at worst falling victim to child trafficking or prostitution.
So why do we love these dinners so? It’s simply, “our cup of tea.”
“Where there’s tea there’s hope.”
~Arthur Wing Pinero
A Thanks-filled Thanksgiving
I had a wonderful Thanksgiving yesterday with my family.
I am so thankful that I got to see my sister-cousin, Patti!
I am so thankful for the very grand dinner…
A Honey-baked ham, roasted turkey, crawfish dressing (and plain cornbread dressing), mashed potatoes and gravy, creamed corn, squash casserole, praline sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, cranberries, pecan pie, pumpkin pie, cheesecake and brownies.
I was grateful to enjoy all of my favorite foods!
I was blessed to be able to spend time with my little niece, Livvy.
I had the pleasure of playing with Betty, the Boston Terrier.
I was extra-thankful that David’s Mom Skyped in so she could join the festivities!
And I was truly thankful for all the laughter and joy that filled the day.
My dad creates an elaborate ceremony of dubbing visitor Grace an honorary Ferguson
Grace was very good-spirited about the whole thing (or maybe she’d mustered her courage with some good spirits). Anyhow, perfect Ferguson material.
“I dub thee Gracie Ferguson!”
Newest turkey in the crew!
Mostly, I was overwhelming thankful for the outpouring of love and acceptance from my family. It’s there on Thanksgiving as well as the other 364 days each year.
I am a very thankful girl!
I hope you all had a lovely day filled with the things you are thankful for.
“I am grateful for what I am and have. My Thanksgiving is perpetual.”
Henry David Thoreau
A Hellacious Belle’s Guide to the New South: Food and Family
Since we are rolling into Thanksgiving with all the wonderful and sometimes bittersweet memories that holidays pack with them in their luggage, for this week’s Moonshine Challenge at yeah write thought I would re-post something I wrote for last April’ s A-Z Challenge, A Hellacious Belle’s Guide to the New South. This post was letter “F.”
I do hope you enjoy, and that it brings back good remembrances for you, too, of meaningful meals with your family and friends and all of the love that was the primary ingredient.
I still crave my grandmother’s cooking, although she’s been gone now for more than 15 years.
My Granny
She wasn’t a “chef,” or a fancy cook, but she prepared delicious, abundant meals and she poured her love for her family into every casserole and every slice of cornbread. I think because she and my granddaddy had lived through the Depression, when times were so hard and food was scarce, it was important for her afterwards to make a feast of every family meal.
Sunday dinner at my Granny’s was a momentous occasion. (And Sunday dinner means lunch, by the way. In the old South, “supper” is the evening meal.)
She started cooking for Sunday on Saturday morning.
She always had two or three meats (ham, a beef roast, fried chicken, fried catfish or country-fried steak with white gravy) along with one or two types of potatoes (mashed with gravy/sweet potato casserole/potato salad), a vegetable medley casserole, macaroni and cheese, black-eyed peas, fried summer squash, fried sweet corn, green beans, slow cooked turnip greens with fatback, fresh sliced tomatoes in the Summer and fried green tomatoes in the Spring, and my all-time favorite, cornmeal–battered okra (the super crispy, slightly burned pieces are the best).
Hushpuppies, fresh-baked cornbread, yeast rolls and biscuits to sop up the gravy, or to slather with butter and her homemade plum jelly. Coconut cake, banana pudding, pecan pie, strawberry shortcake and peach cobbler would satisfy your sweet tooth (should you have any energy left to open your mouth.)
I have dined at some of the finest restaurants in this country. I’d trade every one of those meals for one more chance to sit at her table.
Of course, she never sat at her own table. She bustled throughout the entire meal, filling up glasses with iced tea and water, fetching a fresh batch of biscuits from the oven, replenishing the chow-chow. After everyone else had stuffed themselves senseless, and the table was cleared, she might stop a moment for a small plate for herself.
She was always urging you to eat more. “But your plate is empty!” she’d wail.
Biscuits, butter and jelly
Bulging eyes, tightening belts, groaning tummies and protests of being “full as a tick” had no impact: She’d just sniff and mourn that “you must not have liked it.”
Jewish grandmas got nothing on Southern grannies for food and guilt.
There are days when I yearn for for the food of my childhood.
Her food.
I’ll pick up squash and fresh tomatoes from the farmer’s market. I even bake biscuits. I have the technology, recipes and equations that should make them taste the same, but they never do.
Southern food is au courant. Farm-to-table is all the rage. You can spend a fortune on something called “soul food” in trendy restaurants in New York, Chicago and L.A.
The true soul of Southern food isn’t just grits and greens, though; it’s the passion that goes into making them.
It’s the time and care in the cooking, the bond of the family at table; the joy of generations sharing stories and sustenance, passing down the memories along with the recipes.
It’s my Granny, piling up my plate not just with food, but with her love.
“We believed in our grandmother’s cooking more fervently than we believed in God.” ― Jonathan Safran Foer
Lit Up
This year I was finally able to participate in the Atlanta Beltline Lantern Parade. I’ve been dying be in it for the last couple of years, but we were always out of town.
“Cool,” you say. “So what is the Atlanta Beltline?”
Graffiti art on one of the tunnels
To ‘splain a little more, about five years ago, the City of Atlanta took over a series of paths and old railway lines more-or-less encircling the city, and turned it into a paved walking/biking/skating trail and greenspace called the Atlanta Beltline.
Walking home from Inman Park down the Beltline.
It’s very practical as it provides a safe path to walk from my loft over to the little neighborhood of bars and restaurants in Inman Park.
It’s very fabulous in that it’s studded with outdoor art installations, musicians throwing down impromptu concerts, fortune tellers, trail-side community yoga classes, and a fun, vital horde of 20 through 50-somethings running, walking, skating and biking in a giant festive Mardis Gras of humanity nearly every evening (complete with a lovely assortment of dogs, btw: from tiny puppies in purses to giant Irish Wolfhounds towing kids on skateboards.)
Mini concert from two very gifted musicians hanging out on the Beltline
“Er, well, that’s nice, but what about this Lantern Parade?” you continue.
The Lantern Parade is hosted the first Saturday after Labor Day each year by the Krewe of Grateful Gluttons, and kicks off a two month Art on the Beltline program that runs through November.
Almost 30,000 people showed up for this year’s parade. Lanterns of every style and color danced from wires and poles clutched by costumed revelers; who walked, jogged, skipped and danced to the accompanying “alternative” marching bands.
I went with a bunch of friends as the (unofficial) Krewe of the Sultry Sirens.
We chose an “under the sea” theme, complete with mermaids, a giant crab, a ambiguous character based on Pirates of the Caribbean, some jellyfish lanterns and lots of glowing neon and sparkles.
It was about a 2-mile route, following the Beltline from Krog Street Market off of Irwin Street all the way over to Piedmont Park in Midtown.
“And did you have fun,” you ask, smiling as if you already know the answer.
I had a stinkin’ blast.
Come on, Costumes! Costumes covered in twinkly lights! Day-glow Lanterns! Friends! Sparkly stuff! Music! Dancing! Drinks after at the Highlander!
Hog Heaven.
We were well and truly lit.
Faith means living with uncertainty – feeling your way through life, letting your heart guide you like a lantern in the dark.
– Dan Millman
Flagged
At six, I stood
by the big American flag
and pledged allegiance,
empty words of a child.
Friday night, I stood
by the blaring TV
and pledged again,
weighted words of an adult,
to honor my country and those who protect her.
Share Your World – 2015 Week #46
Here’s my contribution to Cee’s Weekly Question and Answer Challenge – Share Your World.
What type of popular candy you do not like to get?
Andes Thin Mints.
When I was seven or eight, I got a box of them in my Christmas stocking and for some reason, proceeded to eat The. Entire.Box. To this day, I can’t smell chocolate and peppermint together without feeling nauseated.
What do you feel is the most enjoyable way to spend $500?
I would have a huge dinner party with lots of friends. That’s one of my favorite things in the world: to gather a bunch of my favorite people together and throw out a huge spread with some great wines and wonderful conversation.
Where do you eat breakfast?
I don’t usually eat breakfast during the week – it’s a jump out of bed, get ready and bolt for work kinda thing. I do love brunch on the weekend with friends, especially when we walk the Beltline over to Inman Park, Krog Market or Ponce City Market.
My Daddy loves to cook, and I so enjoy the big family breakfasts he makes on holidays and when we’re on vacation at the beach. Bacon, sausage, eggs to order, fresh fruit, biscuits and gravy and a big, spicy bloody mary!
Would you rather ride one of the worlds longest zip lines or bungee jump one of the highest in the world? This will come with a 5-day all expense vacation.
I think I would rather ride a zip line. I’ve been para sailing before, and that was awesome. I think I’d rather have the long, fast ride than a giant drop!
Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
Last week I was grateful for time spent with friends during the week and David’s family over the weekend. This week, I’m really looking forward to the brunch we’re hosting on Sunday! We haven’t had a party in months and I’m especially thrilled to that a couple of friends I haven’t seen in a long time will be attending. It will be an early Thanksgiving in a lot of ways.
Instant Grat Instagram: “Dogs and Cats Living Together”
I warned you that I had a new topic I would pull out whenever the writing genes wouldn’t zip up all the way.
I call it Instant Grat Instagram. {Lamely} bringing you my favorite moments from what is currently my favorite social media platform in a more or less thematic effort.
Hope you enjoy!
This week, Dogs and Cats.
At one with the jungle.
My sweet little foster pup, Spot, wanting desperately to “play” with the cats. Cats having NONE of it.
It’s a tough room.
Sleepy kids.
My sister’s “puppy,” Paddington.
I draw the line at buying him a surfboard. Or little surf shorts. Or flip flops. And he’s way too close to the TV.
Not original packaging.
Detective Inspector Ferguson hard at work
Mr. Handsome
PPTHHPTHPFFTHPPPT!!!
“Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria!” – Dr. Peter Venkman, Ghostbusters.
#WeekendCoffeeShare: Sunday November 15, 2015.
#WeekendCoffeeShare was created by Part Time Monster. I’ve always wanted to participate, so this morning, I made an extra pot and I hope you’ll join me.
If we were having coffee…
I would tell you that we are spending the weekend in Augusta, visiting David’s Mom. We haven’t been here in a couple of months, due to my insane debilitating ruthless super-busy work schedule, so the first thing my husband did was tackle the yard, which is huge and needed a lot of attention. I threw on some old shoes and helped him as much as I could, dragging away ivy clippings and the crepe “murder” limbs from his pruning and loading them up in a cart to dump in the woods. He was happy for the help – I’m not normally much of a “yard-work” kinda girl.
I would tell you how nice it was to see David’s family. His sister Debbie and her husband are visiting from California and we had an “early Thanksgiving-inspired” dinner together last night. Southern-style holiday food (roasted turkey, cornbread dressing and gravy, potatoes and cranberry sauce) is my favorite food in the world and I could eat it for days.
After dinner, we watched National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation for the umpteenth million time, as it’s a Thanksgiving tradition in both our families. My sister will cry “traitor!,” but I’m really okay about not seeing it again until next year.
Very little chance of that happening, though. ::sigh::
If we were having coffee….
I would tell you that Friday night we watched CNN’s coverage of the horror as it transpired in Paris, just as I’m sure you did. My heart breaks for all of those who lost loved ones, and I’m more frightened than ever of what our world is becoming. The only solace is the outpouring of love and support being shown world-wide. Maybe we’re not as jaded and cynical and self-centered as I sometimes despair – perhaps there’s enough light in us as a people to drown out this darkness and evil. I would tell you that I’m sending prayers, good energy, positive thoughts (the intentions are the same whatever you prefer to call it) towards the healing of those affected by this tragedy.
Wait, I’m so sorry…may I pour you another cup?
If we were having coffee…
I would tell you I’m starting to get excited about the upcoming holidays. I can’t believe it’s almost Thanksgiving and I’ll get to take off for a few days then and probably a whole week at Christmas.
I love this time of year, with so many opportunities to celebrate with the people you love. (And parties, dressing up, ice-skating, delicious food, twinkly lights and decorations make it even better!)
If we were having coffee…
I’d tell you that I’m feeling very lucky to have made it half-way through NaBloPoMo/Nanopoblano. I’m a little disappointed with myself – I haven’t written as much or as well as I feel I did last year. I just don’t have many words right now…maybe it’s just the mental beating I’m taking at work or maybe I just haven’t found my sea legs yet. I have really enjoyed the writing challenges over at Yeah Write – I haven’t done much “creative writing,” and the microstory challenge is proving to be so much fun: crafting a story in only 42 words. It delights the wordsmith in me, changing and exchanging adverbs and adjectives, polishing, refining – there are so many words in the English language, but there is truly a “right” word for exactly what you are trying to say. It’s tremendously exciting to hone a tiny amount of language into a larger “story.”
If we were having coffee…
I’d tell you how lovely it’s been hanging out with you and how much I would look forward to you joining me next week. Are you sure you won’t take some pumpkin bread “to go?”
I’d also like to thank Nerd in the Brain – I’ve enjoyed her “if we were having coffee” posts so much, it inspired me to brew up a pot and join you all! I hope you have a wonderful week!
I Carry Your Heart With Me
This week’s Yeah Write microstory challenge, “Where is your heart?” reminded me of a post I wrote last March, but with a twist. I know where my heart is.
I can feel its weight of love and memories.
Here’s to my dear friend, Nykoyen.
You are forever missed,
but forever in my heart.
Reposted from March 3, 2015
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go)
– E.E. Cummings
March 3, 2009: my friend Nykoyen Ekpoudom passed away from a venous thromboembolism, a blood clot in major vein in her leg that broke loose and traveled to her lungs. It was unheralded and lightning fast – she lost consciousness and fell walking out of her office building in Manhattan. She never woke up.
I never got to say goodbye.
I can’t believe it’s been six years.
I think about her a lot.
It stuns me that she never got to meet one of the other most important people in my life; my husband, David. She would have approved.
Having her approval was a big deal.
She would have a lot to say about my current career ambiguity (probably unsolicited.)
She would want to know about the plan I should be working on.
She gave tough love when it was needed.
Were she here, she would read every single blog that I write.
She would give thoughtful feedback.
She would covet my new black boots.
She was the kind of friend you just talked to. About anything. Goofy or funny or crazy or scary or serious. Good or bad. And yeah, if you were being an idiot, you could count on Nyk to gently bring that to your attention, but in a “get your *#%^ together – you’re better than that” kind of way. 
Friends serve so many roles in your life – each one is unique and has a different place in your heart.
Nyk was unabashedly my Partner-in-Crime. We were “sisters from another mister” – almost always up to something. Flirting with some hot boy, crashing a happenin’ party and commanding the room; shopping for completely unnecessary footwear, tossing down a Cosmopolitan or two three.
Off on some crazy adventure in Texas or California or New York.
Sometimes, there was karaoke. 
She was a brilliant business woman, strategically on-point for a stellar international career.
Her goal was to always honor her family and her heritage. She wanted to bring change to her corner of the world.
She would have.
She liked to grab all her girls, weave through the crowds in whatever bar and dance like a dervish in front of the band.
She had a thing for drummers.
She had a razor sharp brain, an appreciation for happiness and a deeply kind and generous nature. She saw the best in people – their true potential.
She possessed a rich and rare sense of humor.
When she traveled, she always packed too many shoes.
She dazzled like a diamond in a sun beam, illuminating every room she walked into.
She would order the craziest combinations of food. Baked plantains, pickles, french fries and sweet and sour meatballs. Chili-covered “death” dogs, topped with peppers and Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers, drowned with diet coke.
She always had my back.
She was my friend.
My life moves on, skirting a Nkoyen-shaped hole in the world.
I miss her. 
I carry her in my heart.
Drunk on Life 
