Pens and Wanderings

 I did try, I didn't quite make it every day but I am grateful to have been a 'Slicer' this month!  Thank you for this amazing writing journey and for being part of this awesome writing community. There were many days I was unable to post or unable to think of anything to write about till the last minute.  But every time I did write, I felt a calm wash over me, I felt so relaxed I sometimes had to stop myself from going on and on and writing all that came to mind.  I was always worried I would write too much or too little and would read and reread my writing, sometimes start all over again, revising, and editing, till I finally felt my confidence levels rise high enough to publish my work.   I will try my best to continue journaling, sharing my thoughts in my little sparkly notebook and on my blog, to keep up with the confidence I have gained as I publicly shared my writing this month.  I have thoroughly enjoyed reading the beautiful writing from many of you and am in awe o

photo: https://pkmizen.wordpress.com/2020/06/14/how-are-your-roots/ An interview/discussion I listened to today on Instagram got me thinking. Even though this is not new information, I found it fascinating to hear the guest speaker explain how all trees grow in two directions and how this can be applied to every one of us.  I am not as articulate as he is and know my explanation won’t be as profound, but I still would like to share my thoughts.  The speaker explained that trees grow roots downwards and then extend upwards to reveal a trunk, branches, and leaves.  He continued and shared how the roots thrive in a dark, damp environment, and work pretty hard to ensure there is enough nourishment for the upper section - the part that flourishes in bright sunlight and looks beautiful for all to see.  He then shared something I had never thought of before - both the plant beneath the soil and the plant above the soil are very similar and share a striking resemblance. There is a main root, f

How much do we give of ourselves to others?  How far do we go to embrace our differences and accommodate each other? How often do we extend a helping hand? Or show love, kindness, compassion, understanding, Empathy, patience, forgiveness? This weekend invites reflection, an inner journey,   To navigate, reflect, and discover even more ways  To be a better me.

I Still Think I Can Dance In my mind I am Coordinated and up-to-date Hands raised, hips twirling, Rocking rhythmically to any beat I can see myself  Descend slowly Showing how agile I am I picture heads turning  When I step on the dance floor I really thought I had great dance moves But again today…. With my favorite song blaring I walk to the dance floor And….. Had to check if my feet were tied together Why my arms were moving in the wrong direction Why my waist was moving only in my mind Why I was totally out of synch  And why oh why, was I Unable to descend Without my knees screaming out in pain I just had to laugh This is old age I tell myself But it's okay In my mind, I am still a great dancer And that is fine by me!

My post today is about getting ready for Palm Sunday and way past its date for posting. It's never too late though, is it?   This week I plan to dig into my memory and bring up events that remind me of all the fun things we did during the week leading to Easter Sunday I was born on Palm Sunday,. My mom told me I was born early in the morning when the church bells were ringing. It does make me feel a wee bit special, and as a child, I have very fond memories of the entire Easter week. The special celebrations were not only held at home with my parents and siblings, but also with my classmates in elementary school, and my Sunday school class at church. Our preparations for Palm Sunday always started the day before. My parents, siblings, and I would spend Saturday searching for the palm fronds and pretty flowers, the essentials we would need to craft and decorate our palm branches for the Hosanna walk at church on Sunday. Once we found these items, we would all sit outside on the vera

I found Rich Tea biscuits whilst out shopping today I picked it up and read the label It was clear,  McVities Rich Tea Biscuits Is this for real? I could taste the crunchy, sweet bits in my mouth What it would be like with a cup of tea or better still Coffee for me I began to load my basket I took two, then three, then made it six packs And that's when I remembered You are on a diet Oh, oh, that diet that I've been on since.... High school, College, Through motherhood, Till now? The one that I can never stick to? You must know what's coming.... I continued shopping with my stash of biscuits Who wants to be on a diet? Forget it My biscuits matter more!

Writer's block is what I've got today, And can't seem to work out what to write about. So I decide to just pick up my laptop,  just to see where my fingers and the keyboard take me. I set the timer and give myself just three minutes (or maybe more), to write 'fast and furiously' like I do with my kids in school. I choose my topic - Fireflies, So - let's get ready, GO. As a child One thing that lingered in my mind Were the fireflies we captured in jars, Fascinated by their radiant glow. Wondering why they wouldn't keep shining, Why they kept losing their sparkle, and seemed to die right before our eyes. "Why did their light fade?" We would ask. Now as an adult, Surely we know, Our 'firefly lights' shine brightest, when we are in the right place, In our 'out-of-jar' space, Surrounded by the right people. Fully at ease and happy within. That place that sets us free to embrace, Appreciate and enjoy the love all around. So let's stri

As I lay in my bed this morning, my mug of coffee on my bedside table, and a stack of my morning reads arranged in one corner at the top of my bed, a proverb from my local Ga language came to mind - ' Ka for loflo', this means 'a crab does not give birth to a bird' . It was a proverb my mom used to say all the time to any of us siblings or cousins - especially when we said or did something that reminded her of our parents.  Looking around me, I couldn't help but think, "This is Ma all over again." The familiarity of her morning routine - items carefully laid out within reach, two pillows stacked with a cover cloth stretched across them, a teaspoon still resting in my mug of coffee, just confirmed to me that I am truly my mother's child.  This made me think of other times when this proverb rings true within my family, not just for biological parents but where genes show up really strong too!  I remembered a few of these: When my son is driving me somew

I looked up That is one majestic tree I thought I stopped Drawn to the branches Each clad in  Red, yellow, green Golden brown or rust Colored leaves Swaying in the gentle breeze. Against the blue sky In the distance She was a beauty Right there In the street. I picked up a leaf I walked on  With a smile For I realized All around us, We can always find the ‘lovely’.

I went to a Flower show over the weekend and came home laden with plastic bags full of plants. I am a plant lover and couldn't resist even though I don't have the garden space for them.  Living high up on an apartment block with no balcony, I wondered where I would put them.  But I kept telling myself, "Where there is a will, there's a way! I will make the space", and kept filling my bags.  I got orchids, aloe vera, a money plant, different creepers, and a rubber plant, but my favorite purchase was three tiny pots of herbs - rosemary, sweet basil, and mint. I bought them just with the idea that I would start cooking up exotic dishes using herbs from my own garden.   Setting up my new garden was a rewarding task, and I felt good once I had found a home for each plant. I found a space along my large window for all the ones that needed a bit of sunlight and then cleared a shelf in my living room to house the more hardy plants.  I thought of placing my herbs in the ki

I miss  my kids, my sister, my brothers, I long for their laughter, their presence which I always treasure I mi ss my nieces, my nephews, my friends,  The joy each of them brings along with laughter and love  I miss  my own bed, my rocking chair, my own garden, Those special places where worries are released and sweet dreams take over I miss   home-cooked food and home-grown organic fruit  The tastes of those, none can compare I miss  my walking partners, my neighborhood The fresh morning breeze, the good morning nods, and the"did-you-know" morning chit-chat  I just really  miss  home!

Trudging up the hill this morning, my backpack felt pleasantly light. My hands were tucked snugly in the pockets of my fleece jacket, trying to keep them warm from the chilly wind; the small bright red scarf draped around my neck added a bit of color to an otherwise dull grey morning. I stepped off the bus onto the sidewalk and began my eight-minute journey up the hill.  I looked ahead tracing my path to the top of the hill. Though the end appeared so close, the steep climb always made it an arduous task.  One I never look forward to. As always, I give myself a task to steer my thoughts away from the tiring climb that never fails to leave me breathless. Today, I decided to find something unusual.  My objective: I decided to find something math-related, as I often remind my students that math is all around us. I take note of the trees, their leaves swaying gracefully in the cold wind. Fellow travelers also make their way up the hill; some match my pace and others stride briskly remindin

What shall I write about today? No idea comes to mind. My fish stew is simmering on the stove Flavors fill the kitchen Shall I write about that? I just started a painting  Guided by numbers and a palette of colors. Shall I write about that? I also spilled a whole jar full of spaghetti sauce All over my kitchen rug As I gazed at the saucy mess, I asked myself, "Do I really have to bend over And clean put this red tomato-ey mess?" Shall I write about that? In the end, I found my way  To the refrigerator Took out my cold unfinished cup of coffee  from this morning I sat in my chair! I did write, didn't I?

 I went for my usual walk early this morning. As I breathed in the fresh sea breeze and enjoyed the view and sounds of the ocean, it made me think how much I love to be in water,  how much I love to listen to the sound of water, and how much I am drawn to any water-related sport or activity.  Whether it is swimming in the ocean, pool, or river; reading, writing, chatting on the phone, or simply lying back dreaming and enjoying the peace that comes along with 'anything-water' always puts me in a happy place! At the top of the list for my 'I-love-water' attractions, are waterfalls. I am especially drawn to waterfalls and make it a point to go searching for one whenever I find myself in a different country. Today, I was walked along the ocean, memories of my visit to the Wli Waterfalls in the Volta region of Ghana flooded my mind. The experience of walking through the cool, damp, calm, and tranquil forest leading to the falls remains etched in my memory. It ignited my deep

It's Friday -  Dance along with me It's Friday,  The end of another busy week, I kick off my shoes, remove my scarf, and my sweater, Twisting my braids into a messy bun on top of my head, I settle into my after-work chair,  armed with my iPad, my glasses and a bowl of buttery salty popcorn. I lean back, stretch out my legs, closing my eyes, I take in the thought of the weekend ahead. Reaching for my drink, I tell myself I've earned the rest, I deserve it, I've earned this full glass of Baileys. Crunching, sipping, unwinding, It is time to flip between the  Jigsaw app and romantic movies on Netflix It's my time It's Friday, time to relax and enjoy ME!

I had a mango for lunch in school today.  After enjoying every bit of the prawn curry I had packed, I picked up the plastic bag that held my priced dessert - a small ripe mango.  Normally, I prefer my mangoes partially ripe and very firm but al l I had at home today were very ripe mangoes. I didn't mind -  ' a mango is a mango ' and I'll enjoy it in any shape or form!  It had already been washed, so I bit a hole at the very top and squeezed the sides, allowing the fresh juice to squirt into my ever-ready-for-a-mango mouth. It tasted so good. It was a small mango and  I ate it slowly, savoring it's sweetness and determined  to make it last. I couldn't get enough of it. I do love mangoes!   My colleagues at school watched as I carefully worked my way through the whole mango until I got to the seed.  I sucked on the fiber till it looked all wiry, pale, and dry, every bit of juice squeezed out of it. The expressions on their faces made it clear that my mango-eating

  I  woke up from bed early this morning to go out on my morning walk. Of course, I didn't want to, but I have programmed my mind to get out on weekdays.  Even in my half-sleepy state, I realized how much I need to organize my things, have a daily routine, and also have a walk from 'room-to-room' to help me remember what I need to do and where to find what. I laugh as I tell myself I am now 'officially old’.  I would tease my mom when she did the same and she would always say in our local language "Obaa ba ni oba nii na", meaning "you will get older age and experience the same.'  She would laugh if she could read this and see I am now doing the very same! Hanging behind my bedroom door are my carefully selected  walking clothes taken out the night before. Still dragging my feet, I pull them on, my eyes still heavy with sleep. My trainers, placed in the corner right behind the door, patiently for my feet to slip into them. I sit and moan as I bend my

Sunday Mornings I love Sunday mornings No alarm clock to startle me from a deep sleep Just my ever-so-faithful body clock that acts like the rooster in my backyard, crowing at 4:30am each day Without fail! I roll over and o pen one eye Peek at the tiny opening  between the drawn curtains Just to check and ask myself, "Is it morning yet"? It is, even though it's still dark outside I roll over and smile snuggling into the hollow in my pillow I can sleep on Because it is Sunday No work No chores No morning walk No school No quick shower No frantic search for clothes Absolutely no hurry Just me and my bed! I close the same one eye again Cuddle my pillow Feelings of peace wash over me a contented smile More time to sleep I turn over, and joy takes over Silently I mouth Yay!! Sunday mornings are a cherished delight!

VOLCANO It's only a model volcano Being built by two  very excited second graders Of whom I am very proud  I watch them and  I smile as I begin to see how many parts of the model resemble ME! Me going hiking, me in the gym, me sitting for too long The steep sides, the potholes, the dips The uphill climb, the rocky paths, the slippery terrain,  Me climbing, sweating, whining, trying to listen attentively but silently shouting out words you don't want to hear Till finally I reach flat ground, stable ground, right at the top Then a sure sigh of relief you will hear Tinged with streaks of embarrassment How could I have been such a pain? But I did it, I made it! That's surely ME! I hear and feel  the rumble from within The lava bubbling from within Shaking the very earth on which it stands That's ME again!  Trying hard to control  the laughter that bubbles from within when I remember that walk, or was it a run?  as I tried to get to the restroom before....... That laughter a

Life is Beautiful Life is beautiful The peace, the quiet, the sounds of nature around me now Are reminders of who we are What we are where we came from And where we all, will go   Look, feel, and cherish The harmony, understanding blending of differences working together to weave a warm haven Why do we complicate it all?   Why not stretch out a hand Why not love instead Why not understand? It is that simple It really is I smile and know Life should be full of love and will continue to love. and enjoy the precious gifts of nature around me Life is beautiful, It really is!!