643.

There is always more to every story...

I was astonished and awed to find that the Bowser family is connected to a larger and (likely) largely-unknown important piece of African-American history in the Outer Banks.

One of the articles I came across in my research is titled, "The Freedmen of Roanoke Island: The Other Lost Colony".

Saying, "Wow" doesn't accurately express my astonishment and gratitude at finding this new information about my people's journey from slavery to today.

Here is a link to the article: The Freedmen of Roanoke Island: The Other Lost Colony.

642.

I talked with my dad about an hour ago.

It was a short conversation, maybe 15 minutes. He was in good spirits.

But as the conversation wound down, he mentioned his health issues and told me not to be upset if I get a call that he's not doing well.

He also said he wants to be cremated, no funeral, no memorial service.

I guess he's tired. I would be too, in his situation.

We'll be taking another road trip soon.

Prayers, positive thoughts, and positive energy are welcome.

Thank you in advance.

Amen.

641.

A few more vacation photos:

Baby Bliss walking the path of the first four flights at the Wright Brothers National Memorial, Kill Devil Hills, NC.

Beach bunny. (Moi, traveler extraordinaire.)

640.

It's been a great week and I'm thankful.

Baby Bliss and I enjoyed a few days of family frolic in the Outer Banks (a.k.a. OBX).

It was a fun vacation as well as an educational one.

In addition to eating, shopping, and sunning, we spent time at the Wright Brothers National Memorial where we walked hundreds of steps while learning more about the Wright brothers, many other aviators from around the world, as well as many aviation firsts in both our atmosphere and in space.

We also detoured at the Roanoke Island rest stop (the first stop in OBX but our last stop before leaving the area) where we viewed a very small cemetery for the Bowsers, a prominent African-American family from the area.

In all my years of study (both forced and independent) I've never heard of anyone from the Bowser family. Their story sounds interesting and I plan to research them this week.

Baby Bliss and I agreed that we liked OBX but missed the good eats in the Carolina Beach area.

In OBX she found a pizza place she liked and I found a place with good Chinese food. But there was nothing to compare to the finger-licking fried chicken, collards, and potato salad of A and G Bar-B-Que at Carolina Beach.

I also liked the drive to OBX a lot more than the drive to Pleasure Island (where Carolina Beach is located).

We'll probably take another drive to the beach before the year ends. My vote is for OBX again but with extensive research on good eats before we go. Another vacation in America without soul food ain't gonna cut it.

That's all for now y'all.

We have a family party in 12 hours.

Sweet dreams for us all...

Amen.

639.

March 31 will mark my fourth year of life without Mr. Bliss.

Although we meet often in my dreams, I will always miss him in waking life.

His beautiful smile, his willingness to help, the way he always encouraged me to try whatever half-baked notion I brought to him as a "what if", his zest for life...

He is missed by many, not just Baby Bliss and I or his family.

He touched a great number of lives. Hundreds. Possibly thousands. Maybe more.

He was one of the few people I've met in life who seemed to truly embrace his professed belief in Christ's teachings. Not in a stern Bible-thumping way but in the way he welcomed everyone with love.

He didn't care about a person's skin color, what kind of car someone drove, a person's religion, sexual preference, favorite food, shoe size... Mr. Bliss was open to possibility, if not for himself then for everyone else.

It's part of why we got along as well as we did.

Mr. Bliss loved holidays and the Easter season was on that list. Yesterday was Palm Sunday and I cried when I thought of what our day would have been like if he was still here.

He would have been up early fixing breakfast for us to enjoy before church. After church we probably would have had a nice dinner out, me and him talking about the delicious dinner we would have at grandma's on Easter Sunday...

Mr. Bliss was the best of all my husbands. Not to detract from the others because they all had their good points and there was one who would have been the best if there had been no Mr. Bliss.

What I mean is that Mr. Bliss was the best person for me because I was the best person for him. We fit in ways that didn't happen with the others.

If you have yet to meet the person who just does it for you, keep looking. I hope that old saying, "There's someone for everyone" is true because there is nothing like finding your "someone".

I'm so thankful that Mr. Bliss and I were in the right place at the right time on that fateful evening in October 1995; so thankful for the time we had together.

Every sloppy kiss and rolled eye, every squeeze of the derriere and every slammed door, every moment we spent holding hands on the couch and every time we ran the streets together -- it's all part of the magical perfectly imperfect history we shared once upon a time.

Until we meet again my darling Mr. Bliss...

Here is one of your favorite songs from one of your favorite movies. Laugh with me dear while you listen and know that you live in our hearts forever.

Amen.

638.

For those who celebrate, Hosanna! I hope your Palm Sunday was one of revelation.

I was thankful to have awakened itch-free Sunday morning.

The story:

A short while after I got home from our glorious Sista Circle celebration, my face began to feel itchy.

I looked in the mirror and yep, just what I thought: hives. 

If you've never had hives (known to medical professionals as "urticaria", pronounced ur-tih-CARE-ee-uh), thank God and pray that you never will.

I've danced with them a number of times over the past 20 years.

The first time was after a cousin's baby shower. 

I was home playing solitaire on my desktop. My thighs began itching badly. I thought I'd scraped them under my desk one too many times, scooting back and forth in my chair.

When I checked, there were no scratches, only skin covered in raised welts.

I was horrified and didn't know what to do.

It must have been traumatic because I can't recall what happened next. Nor do I remember how it was diagnosed as hives.

What I do remember is deducing that the culprit was something (crab meat) another cousin had put in a seafood salad I'd eaten at the party. Her seafood salads were requested for many family parties but I'd never eaten if before that day.

Since then, I haven't been able to eat crab without an episode. 

Oh horror!

I grew up in a region that had crab cakes on menus all over town and in a family that feasted on crabs at every opportunity every summer until many of us moved south.

It was difficult to abstain but I've managed. It became easier after we relocated.

Saturday night there was gumbo. I've never eaten it and I really really wanted to try it. But the gumbo had crab meat in it. Sadly, I had to say no.

There's really no need to stress over this latest episode of hives because I may never know the cause.
(Definitely not crab because I didn't eat the gumbo. My new makeup? Maybe... A combination of something? Possibly...)

Any who, it's taken years but I have an effective solution: tiny homeopathic pellets called apis mellifica.

Thank God for homeopathy.

Amen.

637.

Happy Saturday everyone!

It's overcast here, windy, a bit chilly. In the past few weeks we've had an abundance of sunshine and warm temps and I know they'll return soon so I'm not complaining.

I've already been out gallivanting and although the weather does require warm outerwear of some sort there's no need to drag the mink out of storage again.

However, when I hit the streets later, it's likely I'll be wearing pants, a rarity for me.

If I didn't have a previous engagement, I would be staying in tonight. But one of the sista-friends in our circle is hosting a themed event at her home this evening.

She's from that town in Louisiana known for partying and jazz funerals. Surely this evening's festivities will be worth me braving March winds for one night.

The party starts in a few hours so y'all know what that means.

Time for me to get ready to get ready.

More later...

636.

The Mojita is gone. Imbibed. Did it's job.

I'll have another one day.

Funny that we saw it on the shelf in Target last night.

Funnier that it cost a whole dollar more at Target. I think Target price-matches but the store near me is closer.

***

It's almost time for a beach run for we two Bliss.

Sadly, Baby Bliss and I didn't have a vacation together last year. I went home twice -- once for a class reunion and once to visit a friend. Baby Bliss barely left the county.

True, she's an adult now and can run off with her friends at any given moment. Often she does. But she's a teenager, as are her friends. In the interest of caution, Baby Bliss isn't interested in taking extended trips without real adults.

I believe she gets that cautious streak from me and I'm glad she has it. Hopefully it will help keep her out of trouble as she journeys through life.

Soon she and I will be strolling the shores of our beach of choice. If we like the accommodations and the atmosphere, we'll go again after the summer crowds thin out.

In between, I'm scheduled to take a trip with two sista-friends. Both of them are long-time friends, one a true friend; the other is friend-like.

It's awkward when you're good friends with someone who has another good friend that you just don't mesh well with and your good friend likes to include their other good friend in on some things that require you to be in close proximity with the other friend for too long.

We've had that experience. Sometimes the other friend is really cool and fun; sometimes she's not. Those are the times I wish she had a mute button.

She likes to make snide personal comments and ask questions about things that just aren't her business (because she's not my good friend).

What the hell am I thinking? I'm not going on a vacation with that woman and my good friend. Three is an awkward number any way. Definitely for a vacation. I like even numbers. Two. Four. Six.

Gotta call my good friend and let her know I won't be there.

Vacation is for relaxation.

Amen.

635.

In today's news, I'm trying Something New.

Baby Bliss is totally besotted with drinking kombucha as often as possible.

One word: yuck.

Two words: It stinks.

The bouquet is my biggest issue.

In cat-like fashion, if something smells off, I won't eat or drink it. Surely there are millions of people in the world who share this inclination as well.

Yesterday when we made our water-refill/what's-for-dinner/and-some-of-that-too run at our local healthy foods market, Baby Bliss spotted her favorite brand of kombucha.

Of course she did. We have to pass it on the way to the refill machine.

She immediately informed me that she needed a bottle. Because it settles her stomach, which always needs settling. (So says she...)

As I had already spent $4.00 of my hard-earned money on something I'd bought her earlier, I wasn't inclined to add another $4.00 to the tally.

After she wore me down with her five-minute filibuster (yes, I know I'm using the word out of context), we reached an agreement: she would hush and I would buy the stinky drink.

Then I spotted something called a "sparkling probiotic drink". The name of the flavor is what caught my eye: Mojita Lime Mint Coconut.

Sounded like something magical...

Let me tell y'all a story:

Many dog years ago, when I was a drinker, a cousin introduced me to that tantalizing concoction known as the mojito. I immediately decided it was the most delicious alcoholic beverage I'd ever tasted.

I only had one in my whole drinking life and thank goodness I wasn't much of a drinker. That thing was so good that today I might be a raving alcoholic, chasing the sublime deliciousness of my first mojito, if not for my temperate nature concerning all things boozy.

Back in the produce aisle, after a brief discussion with Baby Bliss the Kombucha Queen, I decided to take a chance on this new-found temptation.

My darling daughter must have chug-a-lugged hers soon after we arrived home. I didn't see her do it but the empty bottle was on her nightstand when I went to her bedroom to talk with her a few hours later.

Several times over the course of the evening, she asked me if I was ready to drink mine. (No, I was not.)

It took me a while to get around to it. By then Baby Bliss had taken it from the fridge and said she would try it first, even though she hates anything to do with coconut.

She didn't like the taste but thought I would.

I did.

Eventually.

The first sip, while not horrible, was surprising and not in a good way. I found myself thinking, "At least it doesn't stink" because I wasn't sure that it wouldn't.

It took a few sips before I could say it was almost good. As long as it wasn't nasty, I was getting my $2.35 worth.

By the time I got half to three-fourths of it in my belly, it was bed time.

The remainder now rests in the darkness of the fridge, waiting for me to finish it off soon.

Soon...

***

Here's a tidbit for the next post: I had a breakfast date yesterday.

Stay tuned for more.

634.

The other night I bought tickets to see two of my favorite musical talents in concert.

The show is in mid-summer.

Baby Bliss said she'll go with me.

I am so excited!

Life is good.

Amen.

633.

I hung out with my grandma, two aunties, and a cousin for a few hours yesterday before I headed home from the birthday party.

My grandma has quite the sense of humor. Right on the edge of, "Grandma! I can't believe you said that!"

She had us all cracking up. I returned the favor by showing her funny animal photos from the internet.

Being there, enjoying a good time with my family, I was reminded of how much I had loved spending weekends, summers, and school holidays at grandma's house for so many years of my childhood. Even though we don't always agree on things these days, I love grandma for all she's done to help me, for everything she's taught me.

Laughing with grandma and my aunts was a great ending to a great day. As I headed home, I found myself thinking, "If only she could be like that all time..."

*sigh*

Knowing grandma, she was probably thinking the same thing about me while I was walking out her door.

632.

Happy Saturday y'all!

What do you have planned?

It's another busy day ahead for me.

Earlier this week, Baby Bliss began purging the treasure trove that is her closet.

The yield: two giant bags of trash; one decrepit papasan-style chair (trashed); one giant, filthy, fabric suitcase (trashed); one laundry basket full of "I can sell these online"; another laundry basket full of "mommy wants this stuff"; a tall fabric laundry hamper and a small suitcase full of "going to Goodwill"; one child-sized sleeping bag and a Trader Joe's paper sack full of goodies that will go to grandma.

The best part: Baby Bliss found a card hand-written to her by Mr. Bliss in 2004 as well as a small locket containing a photo of Mr. Bliss and one of his sisters. She almost cried.

For the past several days, we've been carefully sorting trash from re-useable and cleaning items that are to be given away.

Today I am responsible for parceling out what's being given away because I'm heading out for another of my many social obligations.

It's a mid-afternoon date with the girls for someone's birthday.

I say "someone" because I don't know the birthday sista but the party is being given by my good friend and intriguing socialite, Miz A.

My life has truly become more interesting since meeting her last fall.

If there's a cool event going on, Miz A has either planned it or she has an invite. Either way, if I want to be included, I'm in.

She gives lots of birthday parties, casual gatherings, activities centered around special events (Superbowl, etc.),  all affording me the pleasure of meeting new people who may or may not expand my circle. I've had a great time at every event.

And did I say "a date with the girls"? That may not be true.

Yes, it's a party for one of Miz A's sista friends. However that doesn't necessarily mean just womenfolk. Miz A has many many friends, male and female. Sometimes we all converge upon a location at once, like a swarm of locusts.

One never knows who might be in attendance.

Rest assured that I shall dress accordingly.

That is all.

631.2

Although I was just plum worn out earlier, I wasn't able to fall into a deep restful sleep like I wanted.

My pillows were uncooperative, my daughter was busy turning lights on and off as she bustled around, and my mind wouldn't slow down.

I drifted off several times only to awaken with every odd sound.

At some point I managed to stay asleep. Lots of dreams in about 2.5 hours of snoozing but I can't remember a single one. I do recall the presence of the Scorpio. (My Friday afternoon lunch date.)

When I awoke again, it was after 10:30. I got up and somehow lost an hour because when I looked at my phone again, it was after 11:30 p.m.

Strange.

So, more details about Friday's date:

 - Parking near the venue was awful. I drove around for a few minutes before I found a good space.

- I arrived before he did, and only a few minutes late. (Thank you overly full parking lot.)

- He was shorter than I expected. Not a big deal.

- He was casually dressed: jeans, striped polo-style pullover. Nice quality fabrics. (I have an eye for these things.)

- He was handsome in a way that I wouldn't have noticed if we'd crossed each other's paths somewhere like the mall.

- He was very masculine but not macho.

- He was articulate, well-spoken. But I knew that from our phone conversations.

We met at the bar and ate there. Which led me to believe he has eaten there before (if not often) because the restaurant was full and the bar was empty and I felt like he knew those things already. Or perhaps he called ahead and got the 411. Or something else entirely. (I am always aware that not everything I think is the absolute truth.)

I let him decide on the appetizer, the meal (which I shared with him), and dessert (which we ate with our appetizer and is something I usually don't eat on dates). Normally I make my own decision about what to order but I figured a change of pace could be nice.

He ordered a stout and I had a Shirley Temple (that the bartender refilled several times).

Our food was really good.

The appetizer was a lobster queso with what appeared to be freshly-made tortilla chips in pretty colors.

Delicious.

The  wedge of key lime pie we indulged in was tasty. Not as tart as I prefer but what made it taste better was us taking turns feeding it to each other. He started it and I was happy to play along.

For the main course, we shared a shrimp and strawberry salad festooned with pecans and garnished with fresh jicama. Also delicious.

Our conversation covered everything from our children to politics.

He also spiced up our dialogue with a few tidbits that had me all hot and bothered, a feat not easily accomplished as I like to imagine myself as having seen or heard most things known to wo/mankind.

Definitely a Scorpio, this guy.

Overall, I was nicely impressed but not... swept away.

When that happens (as I was so fortunate to experience with my dearly departed Mr. Bliss), the whole world will know.

Until then, sleep beckons once again. I've been awake since 10:30 last night and I can feel myself drifting off again...

631.

Fun date.

Scorpio men...

Yum!

More detail shall be given at some later date. Maybe tomorrow. I can't say for sure because I'm too tired.

I'm a night owl by nature but lately I've been taking it to the extreme.

Buona notte a tutti.

630.

TGIF y'all!

Another day, another first date...

Lunch at 12:30, at a nearby hoity-toity venue.

Well alright Mr. Moneybags!

I like money as well as the next girl. It affords one a life of leisure and I do like to relax as often as possible.

However I was raised in a frugal household and with few exceptions, that's how I live.

I'm all for a man showing a lady a good time by digging deeply into his wallet. But if we're gonna get to date number two, there had better be some darned good conversation and substance to go with that bankroll.

I'm just putting that out there, you know, for the Universe to hear and respond.

Keeping all that in mind, I'm running up on my call time folks. It's 10 minutes to 11 a.m. If I'm not in and out of the shower by 11, I'll be holding up the show.

This man has to pick up his offspring by 2:30.

And we know how long my first dates can run.

Miss Queen of First Dates is signing off.

629.

Last night I had another "first date".

It was interesting. Unusual. Different from any date I've ever been on.

The activity, one which helped me explore and push past boundaries, was one I had agreed to. I thought I knew what the result(s) would be. For the most part I was correct.

I was a bit apprehensive, afraid too. But I didn't let those emotions stop me and I'm glad I pressed on.

The result was beautiful in a way I can't describe. I learned new things about myself.

It was unexpectedly one of the most pleasurable dates I've ever had.

Magic is real y'all.

But only for those who believe...

628.

Note: this post was written the morning of Sunday, March 6. In a frenzied rush so I wouldn't be late for my date, I forgot to hit the "publish" button until I returned home from said date, in the wee hours of Monday morning.

Mea culpa.

***

The weekend has been very very good to me.

Fun so far.

I actually had two "first dates".

Both in their early 50s. Opposites in some ways... One tall; one short(er). One opened the car door for me; one did not. One African-American; one Caucasian. One a northern transplant; the other raised in the south.

Both guys asked to see me again today.

My Friday afternoon date invited me out and said "maybe" we would get something to eat.

My Saturday evening date requested the pleasure of my company for an early Sunday evening dinner.

One guess as to who shall be allowed to bask in my dazzling aura today.*

Ahhhhh, the life of an unattached woman...  It's not without its bonuses and I absolutely reserve the right to follow my dating bliss.

And now I must get ready to get ready because I musn't be late.

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know I'm late more than I'm on time. But I'm proud to say I made it to my Friday afternoon date on time and I was able to "adjust" the time for last night's date. So technically I wasn't late.

Today I plan to be on time too.

Wouldn't you know, it's turned out to be a three-date weekend.

Lucky me.



* Lest you dear people think I'm being conceited, it's tongue-in-cheek. While I love myself without reservation or hesitation and I know I'm the best catch for He-Who-Is-The-Best-Catch-For-Me, I don't believe every man is or should be enamored of me.

Some men just can't see the brilliance I exude. Why, even those who do don't always understand it.

So?

The world keeps turning darlings!

Amen.

627.

There must be something stirring in the heavens and it's not Mercury going retrograde because I checked.

Whatever it is, it's dragging a few of my "exes" along with it.

I'm not sure if I should be laughing or running.

In this instance, it was this one: Fun Young Guy. And this one: A guy who got no individual mention (although our second -- and last -- date got him some serious side-eye).

It's probably best to laugh as I run sprint the hell outta dodge.

Fun Young Guy called me last night from a number I didn't recognize (therefore not yet on my "block" list), a dirty trick I have no patience for.

Obviously he really wanted to talk to me or hear my voice. Or maybe he just wanted to know if I was still breathing. (Because he's been calling me periodically for a year with no response.)

But that's his issue. The last few times we saw each other, he really got under my skin.

Yes, I know there's all sorts of fodder for self-improvement in interacting with someone who really gets your goat. But once I know the cord has a short in it, I don't think it's wise to keep plugging in the appliance. Nasty shocks might ensue. Time to get rid of it.

Truly, I don't like to hurt people's feelings because it's been done to me and it doesn't feel good.

But I'm hoping that the text I sent after our terse (me) and barely-courteous (me again) conversation will be enough to deter him from contacting me again: Please delete my number and do NOT call me any more. Thanks. (Insert smiling emoji here.)

Leos...

***

The other dude should have just let sleeping dogs lie.

Like, for real.

Our second date (Halloween weekend) ended when he got into an argument via cellphone with an "ex".

Yes, during the date.

He e-mailed me the other day on the website we met on, apologizing and asking to make it up to me.

Dude...

If ever there was a time to be rude, that second date was probably it. However, I exited like a lady and not the slash-you-to-shreds-with-my-tonuge Gemini that I can be.

My response to his e-mail was peaceful.

Zen-like.

Actually, it was Nichiren-like.

***

Hmmm... Now that I think about it, three exes emerged from the mist.

Last week I got an e-mail on the dating site from another guy I had two dates with (also last year). He tried the okie doke: he was sorry that things didn't work out for us but I was such a great lady that he wanted to see how I was doing, if maybe we could go out again...

*chuckle*

After he acted like a toddler when I asked a question he didn't like, after date number two?

Ignore.

***

Et maintenant, because it's Friday and I have lots on my to-do list, this sista is about to rev it up to a higher gear.

I have a "first date" at 3 p.m. and a few errands to run before it's time to get all glammed up. 💄👗👡

.