Brnwebgrrl

In the eight years since that terrible Tuesday morning that shook the world my feelings about Septmber 11, 2001 have evolved as I have grown and changed. Today, I want to offer my prayers and condolences for all of those who lost loved ones on that horrific day, and really to all of us because each one of us who was alive and cognizant of what was going on lost so much on that day.

Eight years ago I had only recently met my (now ex) husband. We had communicated for a few weeks online and then on the phone, but we had only just met in person in July. By September we were each hinting around about the possibilities of marriage. We were in love, but living in separate cities. He was in D.C. and I was in Boston. So, on September 11, when it seemed like the world might be crashing down, we frantically tried to get in touch with each other.

As we each watched the coverage of the days events from so far apart we both knew that our lives and the whole world would never be the same again. I cried and I prayed for all of those who had died in the attacks and for those who were left behind. The sadness and grief was overwhelming and it made me hold those that I loved even closer.

A few weeks later we were engaged having been swept up in the high drama of the world changing so quickly before our eyes. We didn’t know if he was going to be shipped off somewhere to serve his duty, so we felt a sense of urgency. There were a lot of quick weddings around that time with service men being shipped off to serve leaving their families and loved ones behind.

Now when I think back on those days my heart breaks for all that we lost. This bogus war sprung up out of the madness of 9/11 despite the fact that those we invaded were not the ones who attacked us. My heart breaks for the men and women who have sacrificed their lives for our country in this war that seems unending and without meaning.

One glimmer of hope that I see is that the memory of 9/11/01 is now being honored in a day of service. People are getting out and giving of their time and energy to serve the community to make this world better each in our own small way.

I love my country and we suffered a deep wound on that day. We have grieved and we are healing but we should never forget the terrible losses and sacrifices of that day for as long as we live.

On Saturday, Jordan, a friend and I attended the first annual “Feet in the Street” festival at Fort DuPont Park, which is a National Park located two blocks from our home. The morning was damp and cloudy and the dark skies threatened rain at any moment, but we went anyway. When I saw the signs for the event earlier in the month I figured that there would be a big crowd. Every Saturday night in the summer there are free concerts at the Fort DuPont ampitheatre, and those events are always crowded, but there was hardly anyone around when we reached the visitors center about an hour into the event. They blocked off all of the entrances to the park so that no cars could come through, which made it much easier to walk around.

Jordan got her face painted with purple butterflies by an Australian woman named Christalene who had a booth set up. Then she got a temporary tatoo with a logo from the day’s events on her shoulder. We walked around and looked at the different booths and met up with a guy named Lee from the Anacostia Watershed Society. He was leading nature tours through the trails in the park. We set off into the woods with Lee leading the way and clearing the path of spiderwebs for us. He pointed out some of the invasive species that were causing damage to the trees in the park, and he pointed out the poison ivy plants that were all over the place. I learned that one of my favorite plants, English Ivy, is one of those non-native, invasive species that is really taking over and hurting the trees in the Fort Circle Parks here in D.C. The AWS is working on legislation that would ban the sale of English Ivy in nurseries in Maryland just as they lobbied for the legislation that put a 5 cent fee on those plastic grocery bags in D.C. grocery stores starting January 1, 2010. We walked along the damp trail getting bitten by mosquitoes and learning about the trees and plants in these woods that are so close to our home. The trail ended across from the community garden area. Lee left us there and went on to lead another nature hike further into the park.

We stopped at the community garden to listen to the presentation and to learn about how to get a garden plot for next year’s gardening season. I spoke with the National Park Service ranger, who directed me to Rev. Hackney to find out more about getting signed up for a garden plot. I had downloaded an application from the NPS web site, but the whole process of actually getting a plot was kept a bit cloudy and mysterious. He took my name and contact information and said that I would be put on the list, but that I still had to submit an application. The plots are given out on a first come, first served basis, and you had to take the plot that you were given.

After a short presentation, we were given a tour of the gardens, which by now many of them were neglected by their custodians. The late summer heat had driven all but the hardiest of the gardeners away, and their plots were overrun with weeds and pests. But some people had kept up with their gardens and their plots were yielding beans, peppers, tomatoes, okra, squash, and corn. When the tour was over we were allowed to take home some peaches, sweet potatoes and green beans that were there in big bins. I made cobbler with the peaches we brought home, and I baked some of the yams and served them with supper.

I am looking forward to planning my 25X25 foot garden for next year. When I was growing up in southern Oregon we had an organic garden and a greenhouse, we raised rabbits, goats, sheep and chickens. At the time we thought that it was strange to be living on a farm after having come from living in the suburbs in Massachusetts. Now I am glad that we had those experiences because I get to put all of that knowledge of composting, gardening, canning and food preservation to good use.

Sunday was Daddy’s birthday, and to celebrate it, I baked his favorite spice cake with cream cheese frosting. I had to giggle when I spoke to my stepmom who said that Daddy had requested three different birthday cakes for himself from three different people. Daddy liked cake. So we celebrated him and all that he meant to us. It warmed my heart and I did not shed a single tear. He took up so much space in my heart and in my life and he will never be forgotten. As I am moving through the grieving process it is giving me a deep sense of fellowship with others who are suffering the grief of loss. Life is short, so don’t miss the opportunity to tell everyone around you how much they mean to you while you still can.

This is the last day of summer for my girls. Tomorrow the eldest will begin her junior year of college, the next one will start sixth grade and my youngest will begin second grade. They have been home with me all summer for the first time. They usually attend summer camp, but as I’m now working from home I decided to keep them home rather than pay for summer camp. Can someone please tell me what I was thinking? It was definitely challenging to keep them entertained, happy, fed and out from under my feet so that I could work. We live in a small apartment, so it was not always easy. But I think that we had a lovely summer. We spent a lot of time at the library surfing the free WiFi and enjoying their arctic cold air conditioning on those super-hot days when the apartment was just to stifling. We also spent a lot of time in the pool. I am so proud of Jordan, my youngest child who progressed from being a bit skittish about even getting into the pool to now being able to swim like a fish under water.

We went home at the beginning of August for my dad’s funeral and spent a week with the family in Massachusetts. I still can’t get used to the fact that my dad is gone. It’s interesting how we grieve differently for different people in our lives. For me, I think that his death being so unexpected that shocked me. When my grandpa passed away earlier in the year he was 93 years old. He was ready to go and we were ready to let him go in peace. Yes I mourned his passing because I love him dearly, but somehow with him I felt comforted by the fact that he was finally at home in heaven. With daddy, I feel like I am experiencing all of the stages of grief in a jumbled up fashion every single day. It’s hard. I know that I should be happy that he is in heaven and that he has no more pain and that he is with God, but slefishly, I still want him to be here with me. I know that in time my feelings in this will change, but for now everything is really close to the surface for me. I’m already a crier, but jeez, it seems like everything is making me cry these days. When I saw this picture taken of me and daddy at my wedding posted on my brother’s Facebook page sent me straight over the edge:

For now I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who left comments of condolence for me, my friends who sent emails and Facebook messages. It’s hard to know what to say when someone has lost a loved one. I feel like in my grief I have learned to have a lot more empathy for others who are suffering.

I am looking forward to the fall when we will be back to a regular routine and I will have quiet, uninterrupted work time at home while the girls are in school. I have some exciting projects in the pipeline for the fall and I will share them in the coming weeks.

On Tuesday, August 4, 2009, my dad passed gently away in his sleep. He was not sick. It was an ordinary Tuesday morning, but it was his ‘unexpected hour’ when God decided to call him to His side. I loved my dad and we were very close, but it was a closeness that was hard-won after years of rockiness, held grudges and lack of communication. I am so glad that we took the time to sort out our differences and create a loving relationship.My Pastor said that daddy, “took up a lot of space,” and in so doing he has left a huge void in my heart. We spoke at least once a week, and sometimes I’d get a random text message from him.

My dad was a technophile, but he was a late bloomer as far as computers go. My mom brought a computer home in 1980, but he did not get one until the mid 90’s. He used to grumble that he didn’t want to spend money on something that would be obsolete by the time he got it out of the box. But he took to computers quickly and became an expert. He was my go-to guy for tech support, and he could diagnose computer problems with uncanny accuracy.

The day he passed away was one day after my daughter’s birthday. He had a faulty memory for everyone’s birthday but his own. On Monday morning he called me to ask if it was indeed Bri’s birthday. I confirmed that it was and he said that he was going to call her and wake her up with a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday.” I told him that I was going to set up a google calendar for him that would send him email reminders for all of his children’s birthdays.

Daddy died right in the middle of everything. I did not get the chance to hug him or tell him goodbye or how much I loved him. But I am grateful that he is now in the arms of the Lord. All of his sadness and pain and stress have been taken away and he lives in the joy of heaven.

So, as I learn to put one foot in front of the other again, and find a way to live my life without my daddy in it, I will try to take on some of the strengths that he posessed and shared generously with the world. My dad was down-to-earth, he was kind, he was generous, he had an insatiable curiosity about life, and an infectious sense of humour. I will always love him and never, ever forget him.

Rest in peace, pappa.

A friend and I were reminiscing about our growing up years and somehow the topic came areound to ffod. We began reciting our favorite comfort food desserts, and one that we both had passionately in common was banana pudding. My mom, even back in the day, was all about health food and natural cooking, so she rarely made desserts. That’s what grandmas are for. My grandma used to make the best banana pudding. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water and it makes me smile about how much fun we had at her house. She’s a southern cook and everything she made was flavorful and wonderful.

So, I’m in the grocery store and I decided to buy the ingredients to whip up some banana pudding to serve for dessert tonight, but to my horror, the recipe was not on any of the ‘Nilla wafer boxes that I found in the grocery store. Then it hit me. I pulled out my Palm phone and did a quick search for a recipe. I purchased the necessary ingredients and brought them home.

In case I have tempted you to whip up some creamy nostalgia, here are some links to several versions of yummy banana pudding.

Nabisco banana pudding recipe

Assorted banana pudding recipes

And, leave it to Paula Deen to come up with this over the top banana pudding recipe using Pepperidge Farm’s Chessmen cookies. Enjoy!

My memories of Michael Jackson go all the way back to when I was a little girl. My sisters and brother and I loved the music of the Jackson Five, and I remember watching their variety show that came on Saturday nights in the 70’s. ABC is my favorite song of his from those early days when he was young and adorable.

I was so sad when I heard about his death yesterday afternoon. In fact, at first when I saw the tweets about it on twitter I didn’t think that it could possibly be true, so I kept working.

All throughout my growing up years I enjoyed Michael’s music. I danced to his music at the club and it was part of the soundtrack of my life. When Thriller came out we watched in non-stop on Mtv. I think that I largely took his gifts and his talents for granted, and because he had always been there he would continue to be there.

When he was having all of his legal troubles I was embarrassed for him and I wondered why he kept making such poor choices. He was clearly plagued by many demons and he never seemed to be happy.

His death points out the fact that we as human beings often don’t show each other how much we appreciate each other until after someone dies. He was a fabulously talented man whose talents utterly transformed the world. His death is being mourned all over the world. Yes, he was troubled, but he had a huge, generous heart and his gifts to us will be his lasting legacy.

Godspeed, Michael.

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On Sunday I celebrated my 42nd birthday. I did most of my celebrating on Saturday at the Maryland Sheep & Wool festival. I had a great time shopping and hanging out with friends old and new. I met up with a new friend, Loren, who I’ve been chatting with online on Ravlery.com for the past year. She surprised me with a lovely gift of yarn for my birthday and some chocolate covered mints.

I also received a lovely bracelet, some delicious chocolates and other special treats. After I got home on Sunday evening I hung out with my girls and had a great time. Before I went to bed I checked my Facebook profile and found that I had two pages of birthday greetings. It was fun responding to everyone.

My birthday was relaxing and enjoyable. Turning 42 isn’t so bad.

For the past few days we have been enjoying much warmer than normal temperatures here in the D.C. Metro area. On Sunday and yesterday it was above 90 degrees–quite rare for the month of April. I had to drag out the AC several weeks if not a month earlier than usual because it’s been just too hot to sleep. Today we are forecast to see a break in this pattern as we are expecting thunderstorms and rain starting this afternoon and into tomorrow, which is only forecast to reach the mid 60’s–closer to normal late-April temps.

I took full advantage of this beautiful morning and did my morning devotional outside in the park. We live just steps away from a lovely National Park, which has lush, green rolling hills and beautiful trees. I found a grassy spot at the top of a hill and sat there and read a little bit from Michael Beckwith’s new book, Spiritual Liberation, and then a bit from the Bhagavad Gita. Just last week I finished reading a verse a day from the Tao, and the Gita was the next spiritual text on my list. I meditated for awhile and then did my morning pages.

The park rangers on duty all waved friendly ‘”Hellos” and a then man showed up with his dogs that he was running off-leash on the fields. One of them was a miniature poodle who came bounding up to me and then stopped short. He checked me out, but was too shy to let me pat him. He turned on his heels and went tearing back across the field to his owner. Soon that cool breeze was beginning to die down and the sun was growing hotter and hotter, so I decided to head back home.

I am grateful for the time I was able to spend out among the trees and just enjoying this beautiful earth that we have been blessed with. I am grateful for the words of wisdom written down thousands of years ago and some more recently that shed light on the spiritual path that I have embarked upon. I am grateful for the faithfulness of Holy Spirit who has kept the promise never to leave me nor forsake me. He is teaching me and guiding me and inspiring me and comforting me as I slowly wake up from the dream.

It’s been a crazy busy week. On Monday evening I was interviewed by John Evans and Ella Curry on the Black Author’s Network on Blog Talk Radio. we discussed poetry in general, my interest in poetry and then I read some of my work. I have done public speaking, I have hosted tele-seminars and I have always felt comfortable and at ease, but for some reason I was incredibly nervous at first. I guess it was because I was not leading the discussion and I had to be ready to answer the questions intelligently on a live radio show. But Ella and John were gracious and made me feel at ease. Once I got started reading my poetry I became relaxed and calm. Unfortunately, my VoIP phone kept cutting out and I had to dial back in twice. There was a terrible thunder and lightning storm that night, and whenever there’s an electrical storm, I tend to lose DSL periodically.

Here’s a link to the recording if you want to listen to the replay: Black Author’s Network World Poetry Month

In preparation for the show I was going to publish a chapbook of my work, but I was so busy I did not have time to get that together. I did put up a separate blog devoted solely to my poetry. You are welcome to take a look, http://ebbourne.wordpress.com. I was thrilled to get a flurry of comments on that new blog after the show. This is the first time I have published a blog and gotten comments on it from the very first day it was up. You’ve gotta love wordpress.com.

The Maryland Sheep & Wool festival is coming up next weekend, which is also my birthday weekend. The girls will be going off with their father and I will be free to enjoy the festival and to hang with my girlfriends. It’s an annual happening and it’s really the highlight of my spring. (Clearly I don’t get out much) I won’t be spending a butt-load of cash this year as I have in the past. I would like to get some yarn to knit myself a skirt and maybe some nice manly-looking yarn to make something for my sweetums. A few weeks ago I finished knitting a shawl with sleeves that I started about four years ago. I will blog about it and post pictures on my knitting blog, http://knitahat.blogspot.com.

As I write this I am sitting in my ‘other office,’ my local indie coffee house. They have Reggae and salsa music playing making it difficult for me to keep my butt still in my chair and write. But I am on deadline today, so I’d better end here and get some other work done.

Spring is my favorite time of year here in Washington. I love the fact that the winters are far shorter here than they were in my native Massachusetts. My girls and I enjoy going down to the tidal basin to see the trees, and we did so this past weekend. It’s a sight that I never get tired of, but we did not stay long becuase the crowds were so big. The weather was balmy and sunny, so there was a huge crush of pedestrians pushing and shoving and taking up every spare square inch of ground. We took a few pictures and then turned around and came home. Here’s a photo that Leila took of me with my somewhat scowling expression because people kept walking in front of the camera and I had a doozy of a headache.