Danger Zone

Just wrap me up with yellow tape and stand clear. I didn’t mean to do it! I just went out to my tiny garden to pick some rosemary and smelled my lavender, which deserved a close of the eyes for a “breathe and know” moment. The lavender began to smell like smoke. I run into the kitchen. Here’s my new wrought iron skillet on the stove burning with smoke everywhere. “Where’s my extinguisher…flour?”  No water! The side door is close enough. I grab a potholder, and out the door goes the pan. I was so heroic! Then, I totally freaked out.

Billy and Lois Crabtree

I called my sistah friend, Lois. She told her husband, Billy, and he came over to make sure I had not burned my house down. There was smoke everywhere, but not enough to call my insurance company to get some new stuff like at my other house years ago. (Shut up, y’all). We opened every window and door, and before long, I was back in action. The next week, Billy sent over two extinguishers. Hmmm, ‘wonder where they are… I’m just kidding. I do know where one is. More importantly, why didn’t the smoke alarm go off? Could it be because I/you get so sick of it going off all the time till you move it to where it can’t beep when you light a candle? What?!!

So one Christmas night, the kids and I were standing in the kitchen talking and waiting for the food to finish cooking in the oven. All of a sudden, the front fiberglass on the front of the stove explodes. Thank goodness, it didn’t hit us. What happened was the guy who worked for me tightened the screws in my oven door, and the torque was too tight. She exploded. I bet you think we didn’t eat that food. Think again. What!!

I don’t mean to make light of this. (Lord, don’t mention light). I set timers every time I cook. I also take cues from my mom about looking down when I walk. At a family reunion, I had to rush to get into a photo. But there was a deck…and I had to hurry. There I was in front of all my deceased husband’s family, and Mr. K. sprawled, hands and face down on the deck. When everyone was worried, I pushed up with my hands and yelled, “Safe!” They tried not to laugh, but it didn’t work.  I was laughing too until that night. (I Hurt!)

Sometimes you gotta laugh, but not before you do all you can to stay safe. Set them alarms; signal your cooking; when ironing, don’t get distracted and end up with a big iron mark on your top. Who did that? Yellow tape, please.

Joy Juice

During this season, there are things beyond our control, but there are also everyday workings during which we can be aware and present. Our safety is worth more than a multi-task. We are worth our care; we are miraculous.

“All is good/God/Love” -Victorine

© 2020 Camp Goldston LLC – All Rights Reserved







I'm Hot….No, Cold

Do I even have to tell you about ’em? But my question is how long do we have to have ’em. I am no longer menopausal. I am in the post-stage. So, why am I posting? Because I still have hot flashes that send me to Hades! I know I’m not alone. When I’m at a church program, all of a sudden I see a sea of programs fanning the heat, mine among them.

I am in the mirror readying for an event. Makeup perfect, I reach for my top, which is stylishly complicated. I’m pulling the cord that goes behind my back to come through the front to tie neatly so my waist looks it looks like I have a waist. I’m just a little flustered, not enough to worry about it. Then, before I can “Whew! “at managing my top, this surge sneaks up on me. I run to the bathroom and blot to outrun the “blot, blot, blot,” but too late; the fire is burning. and I gotta do an emergency redo. What?!!

TV watching is like…sweater on, sweater off, sweater on, sweater off. “Pass me a throw...Oh, I forgot, throws put me to sleep.” Why am I so chilly? I get so hot till my normal temperature feels like I engulfed ten freeze pops. And one more thing: Bed!

I make a great bed, on a platform foam cooling mattress, with alternative down comforter covered with a duvet, and high-count sheets. I snuggle in. Then, the heat starts. to rise…from the sheets (dirty minds…y’all ain’t that old, huh?). I wave a comforter off like a matador challenges a bull, “Ole!” Then, the chill hits and back under I go. This, for the last 25 years. What?!!

Remedies? I’ve tried them all: No caffeine, Black Cohosh, some kind of herbal yam, all to no avail. But I do like fans. They work. When I attended my nephew, Mannie’s wedding, his sister, Sophia gave me a fan to use ’cause it matched my hot pink silk caftan top. As the reception ended, she asked for the fan. As she reached for it, I almost chopped her hand off!

Mannie, My New Niece, Dara, and Moi with my fan!

I must say my hot flashes are sporadic; they will stop for a while, but they always come back. Maybe they are with me to keep me alert. Some of y’all never had them, but I hope you understand when I take your napkin or whatever I can find and start fanning. I’m just sayin’.





Joy Juice

There are some things in our biological/genetic makeup that we cannot control. We do what we can to sustain our ‘magic,’ and we relax in the knowing that we are designed perfectly to be what we are, splendid creatures of God.

“Love has the final word”  – Rickie Byars

Victorine with fan

© 2020 Camp Goldston LLC – All Rights Reserved