Rasta Rooster?.. I think not!

My name is Donald... Donald Trumph!

Thanks for your concern..

Thanks to those who sent msgs and shared concern re my recent stay at the hospital. I'm doing ok, thankfully. Just waiting on the results of the tests... hopefully it'll be good news.

LOL..Does this convince you?

LOL...I'm sorry, but I just saw this on a friend's blog at http://variousmusings-amplified.blogspot.com/ and I just couldn't help it!

Sunday Ice Cream

I wrote this a long time ago... Maybe just started high-school. Reading it now... seems I've come quite a way. The events are fictional, but I still wanted to share...



Sunday Ice-cream

My daddy was the best daddy ever
always told me how much he loved me
He loved me, I knew, his eyes were his words
My daddy, to me, his eyes never lied

But daddy must have been a very nice man
Cause he loved the girl in the store
The girl on the bus, the one in the stall

He’d bring home the bread,
and he’d pay up the bills
Make sure I’d get my Sunday ice cream

Mummy left one day, and didn’t come back
Another girl, my braids would plat
She was the girl from the store, or was it the bus??
Or maybe the choir, or the ice cream truck

Yes that’s the one, the ice cream truck lady
I missed it then, didn’t quite hear his eyes talking
“lovely day isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes!!” she’d replied
he had turned back and winked…“I enjoyed last night!!”

Only in Dominica - The Corridor Physician

I was meant to have a small procedure at the hospital recently - which by the way was postponed. While waiting for the first four of what would turn out to be a six hour wait, one young woman came out of the ward dragging her drip stand, and shuffling down to sit near me, and about 4 other older women along the corridor.

She was apparently lactating, and had seriously soiled the front of her night dress since she, as she would explain, was not allowed to breast feed her baby. As she was sitting there, groaning and complaining, this is the conversation that ensued between herself, and the older women sitting there:

Older woman: "Girl... why you crying so? Ask de doctor to make you feed your chile!"

Patient: "I cannot. De doctor say is not good now."

Visiting woman: "Is true, depending on de tablet she taking, it can affect de chile."

Older woman: "But you not seeing is not a tablet she taking... is liquid she on!"

25 Random things about me

1. I'm not a fashionista. Never was, never will be. Taking the time to "dress up" simply depends on my mood, and the amount of free time I have.

2. I LOVE warm waffles!!... Ohhhhhhh.. :)

3. At a party, I'm the girl you'll find sitting on the back step, or under the tree.

4. My ears aren't pierced, simply because I don't want to- It is not a statement of social rebellion.

5. I rescue bugs and creepy crawlies if I find them in trouble (minus the mosquitoes and the cockroaches of course)

6. My favourite time of day's at night.. when everyone else is asleep...

7. I usual reflect the emotions of the people I'm around.. If they're sad, then I'm sad. I guess that means I'm not much of a mood lifter.

8. I'm completely comfortable with silence, as long as there isn't any animosity

9. I still want to learn guitar! Darn it!

10. I LOVE BREAD!

11. I despise dumb arguments and simply wont participate.

12. I wish I were wittier.

13. I think God knew what he was doing when he made me.

14. For some reason, I do care what the people I love think about me, and am constantly afraid of disapproval.

15. The idea of death does not scare me.

16. I write out my feelings more easily than I could say it.

17. I put ketchup on my scrambled eggs, and use chocolate milk with my breakfast cereal.

18. I like learning things... just about anything

19. I cook when I want to... and that's that.

20. I'm not a financial wiz!

21. I like poetry, and music, and art, and all things creative.

22. Doesn't like being the center of attention... and prefers anonymity.

23. I love my Dou Dou!

24. I'm afraid of grasshoppers, but I'm working on it.

25. I just used 25 minutes of my time trying to think of 25 random things about myself.

Only in Dominica - The Hitchhicker

On my island home, hitching a ride is not only a necessity at times, but it's an almost unavoidable part of our culture. As inconvenient, and imposing as it can be, it is what it is - With a transportation system like ours, face it, we have all had to tough it out on the shrubby 'highways' at one point or another.

Needless to describe how annoying, and disconcerting it can be for the person desirous of a ride... but what about that driver who stops, sometimes only as an after thought, or after being bitten by a persistent conscience?

My dad recounts this experience:

He had been coming from work one afternoon, and was meant to pass in through Salisbury. While driving, he had passed this man in Layou, who had flagged him down... hesitating, he stopped for the guy. Unknowing to him, a rather rotund woman who was also standing along side the road, hopped on. No comment from my dad- only the "Oh boy" look.

The male passenger disembarks in St Joseph, leaving only the woman on board, who, to put it nicely, would make no better company than a swarm of starving mosquitoes.

Upon arrival in Salisbury, my dad stops along the highway so the woman could get off.

Woman- "But is not der i going. Right Portsmouth oui I have to go."
Dad - "Lady, I have to go up to Salisbury."
Woman - "But why you pick me up if is der you going?"

My Dad cringes, sucks his teeth.. but says nothing.

Murmuring and mumbling as she wobbles off the vehicle, she marches up to the drivers window..."Well den give me $5 to pay my bus nah man?"

BOL' FACE!

Culinary Crusades.... The Chocolate Chip Cookie

Nestle's Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies

2 1/4 c. all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 c. (2 sticks) butter, softened
3/4 c. sugar
3/4 c. firmly packed brown sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
1 (12 oz.) pkg. (2 c.) Nestle Toll House semi-sweet chocolate morsels
1 c. chopped nuts


Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In small bowl combine flour, baking soda and salt. In large mixer bowl combine butter, sugar and vanilla extract; beat until creamy. Gradually add chocolate morsels and nuts. Drop by rounded measuring tablespoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake at 375 degrees for 9 to 11 minutes. Makes about 5 dozen. 2 1/4" cookies.

******************

All right, by now I think we can all agree that I'm a little bit of a fruit cake. Any how, my boyfriend made these cookies and I loved them. So, as usual, I'm going to try them. Being the supportive, kind, sweet thing that he is-He isn't reading this, so its ok for me to say all those things- he gladly helped me to get the ingredients.

Any ways, once I manage to find the ingredients for any recipe I want to try, I'm always super excited and rush right into it. And rush I did - as soon as I got home.


All things considered, I messed up. I wasn't paying attention, and instead of using the baking soda which the recipe calls for, I used baking powder. Ok, I don't over react...they are both rising agents, how bad can it be?

Next, the butter I meant to use was rock solid since it had been in the refridgerator. The butter is meant to be "soft", so I stick it into the microwave for a little while, just so it would be , you know, less 'rock-like'. By the time I take it out of the device, its a bubbling pool of fat. Being the problem solver that I sometimes think I am.. I stick the mess into the freezer, just so it would be, you know, more butter-like. Are you seeing a pattern here?

So any ways, I manage to overcome all of that and the dough tastes great! So I stuff the tasty wads of dough into the oven and wait... and wait.... and wait..... and wait some more. Sure, the recommended time had long expired, but my cookies were as white as a sheet. Reason you wonder? MY OVEN ONLY GOES UP TO 290 degrees or so!!! Like what am I supposed to do with that? Most cake recipes require baking temperatures of about 350 degrees! Remind me when I'm furnishing my house- Check the maximum temperature on the oven!!

Eventually, after waiting about twice the cooking time, I pull the cookies out. By this time, they certainly aren't white.. but they are rock hard!! Every one at home still liked them, but I was a bit disappointed.

I've decided to try this again. Maybe in a friends oven and see what happens. I will modify the recipe though, I thought it to be a little too sweet for my taste.

Growing up 'Me'

I have always been a tom boy. Well at least, that’s the way I grew up. Nothing would please me more than running through the grass with my brothers, climbing trees, playing marbles, hide and seek or “Police and Dread” with the boys from the neighbourhood.

I remember climbing a tree which stood in our front yard. A

miserable looking thing it was. Tall, bare, and as I would find out later; feeble. For a reason that completely escapes me now, I had climbed that tree. Up and up I went until I had gotten to the very top, and could go no further. As I recovered from the thrill of it all, and decided to descend, I realised that the branch that I would have had to step on to climb down, was too far below me to reach. If that wasn't trouble enough, the slightest move I made would cause the tree to sway precariously from side to side. It was quickly becoming clear that I may have gone a little too far.

So, how does a 10 year old girl get out of a tree?... SCREAM FOR DADDY! And that is exactly what I did. I remember seeing him bolt out of the house trying to locate me. After a few seconds he looked up and realised where I was. He was visibly shocked, as the sweat drops erupted on his brow. He would later run to the neighbours, who had already begun gathering in the front yard, to fetch a ladder. Somehow, he managed to get me out. And, although the neighbours all thought it funny and would be talking about it for days, my mother was not amused. When I was brought in, she couldn't decide whether she should be angry or relieved as warnings and words of comfort streamed out of her mouth in a muddle of words that I didn't quite understand.

On another occasion, I was crawling through the hedges in our back yard, and happened across a piece of plastic, printed with a very strange pattern. I had sat there for a while holding it up to the light, examining the ripples and curls of the lines which ran along my new find. Eventually, I carried it into the house with me, and excitedly called out to my Mom, thrusting my new treasure into her opened hands. I watched curiously as her faced morphed from apparent confusion to a terror that I have yet again to witness in my life. As if in slow motion, my precious bit of plastic went hurling across the room, while my Mom catapulted in the opposite direction.

The result of the phone call that she had made after that was a search party of 4 men from the area searching for a large Boa in our back yard. It was found the next day in our neighbour’s yard, and killed. There was no way for me to know that my interesting little piece of plastic was really the molted skin of a very large snake. I apologized for that one.

There was nothing graceful about my movements. Ahhhh… and how my mother dispissed my boyish antics. And not the least of these was the constant bruises and scratches which were the result of my daily adventures and expeditions. I clearly remember her saying, “One day, you’ll want these scars to disappear. You’ll want a boy to like you someday.” She seemed pained, and I hadn’t understood why. In my innocence, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the way I lived, and I would not change.

My adventures after that were numerous- some of which I will recount later.. More quickly maybe if I am bribed with a very good book!