The Scalloped Potatoes Standoff

This is what happens when you challenge Mama!

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Warning:   This is a 20th century parenting strategy that will land you in jail if you tried it today. Also, be aware that this post includes a whole lot of Southern vernacular/ dialect or whatever a linguist might call it! 😉

I love scalloped potatoes!  I can eat them on any given day of the week.  I like them with cheese, chives, cheese and chives, onions-whatever.  Any iteration of scalloped potatoes is all good with me 🙂

But it wasn’t always that way.

In fact, when I was a kid, I HATED scalloped potatoes!!!  Baby there aren’t enough exclamation points to help me stress this point.  Now, do you think that this fact mattered to my mama?  Ummm…NO!

Note:  If you don’t know my mama, go back and read the post “Mama and the Balloon Man.”

Anyway, I grew up during a time when you ate whatever your mama cooked.  There…

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Ron’s Time Tunnel: Snakebit!



Gramp got snake bit! I was a small child the first time I heard the story of my grandma—Gramp—being bitten by the baby “Diamondback rattlesnake” (one of the most poisonous snakes in the U.S.), but of course, I heard it many times afterwards.  According to her, she came very close to “meeting my maker that day and the days that followed”.

It happened one day when, as a young woman, she was picking peas from the pea patch. She didn’t see the miniature viper, nor did she hear him, for the baby rattlesnakes don’t have fully developed rattles like the older, more mature ones do, but they pack more venom—ounce for ounce—than the biggest of rattlers.

A baby Diamondback only has a “bud” on the tip of its tail; and though instinctively, they shake their little tail buds furiously when threatened, the bud makes little or no noise. A beetle’s buzz is probably louder.

As she stepped within range of the small serpent, he struck! His tiny teeth—needle sharp—sank into her ankle. The several days following the bite, were full of; consternation, concern, and care for the young woman lying upon her bed in a feverish heap.

The near invisible puncture mark just above her ankle grew insidiously—over the next several days—into a festering black and blue mound of excruciatingly painful flesh.

Her father, the Right Reverend A. Jordan Smith, prayed fervently and furiously over his baby daughter. He’d also incised an “x” over the bite and attempted to suck the poison from the wound—as was the custom of that day.

Her mother Mollie’s loving hands, caressed, soothed and applied cool compresses to her forehead in a vain attempt to quench the flames of the demon’s fire raging within her. But, despite the prayers and loving care lavished upon the girl, she still inched ever closer towards the precipice of death.

On the third or fourth day, just before the moment of “all hope is lost”, the local “Two-Heads” made an unannounced visit; having obviously been summoned by an anonymous well-wisher. Without a word, the small group surrounding grandma’s bed parted like the Red Sea to let the “Two-Headed” Moses pass. The “Two-Heads” raised his gnarled staff towards the low ceiling of the old weather-beaten, wood-framed house and prayed softly, unlike like the Right Reverend.

The “Two-Heads” then took a wad of “well-chawed” chewing tobacco from his mouth. He made the “chawed” tobacco into a poultice and placed it upon the wound, atop the mound of feverish flesh on Gramp’s ankle. “Leave it there until I return”, he’d told them; then he left.

The next day the “Two-Heads” returned. He removed the “bacca” poultice and placed it back into his mouth where he once again began to chew it; not unlike an old cow chewing a cud. He then removed a frog from inside his ragged cloak. Mumbling unintelligibly, he took out a razor-sharp pocket knife and split the frog, along his soft underbelly—from just below his mouth to a point between his two back legs. He then placed the split side of the frog over the snake bitten area—guts and all—on grandma’s ankle. He turned to face the small group of beloved family members and again issued a caution, “Do not remove the toad frog until I return”. After he issued the caution, he left.

The next morning, the sun rose, the cock crowed thrice, and Gramp sat up; afebrile, countenance glowing, and body fully healed. All who saw it were amazed and prayerfully thankful to Go no nod up above, that the young lady had been brought back from the “jaws of death”; presumably, by a “Two-Headed” man, a plug of “chawing tobacco” and a split “toad-frog”.

Some say that the tobacco and the dead frog, drew the poison from Gramp’s body. They commented that the “old folks say” that it has something to do with the snake preying on the frog, in natural life, and the frog preying on the snake, in the spiritual realm! Who knows? The Word does say the “first shall be last and the last shall be first”!

Here’s a short story from Africa, that might shed some light on the mystery

FROG and SNAKE: An African Folktale

“Ma Frog and Ma Snake had little girls, and both girls wanted to go out to play one sunny afternoon. Ma Snake said, “Look out for things with big paws and shiny claws. Be careful in the bush, little one, and be home before dark.”

The young snake sang as she slithered through the grass, “Sssss, look out for Paws-and-Claws, sssss.”

Nearby, Ma Frog called out, “Be wary of things that poke or snap. Don’t wander into the bush alone, my child, and be home before sundown.”

The young frog sang as she hopped away, “Rrrribit, be wary of the Poke-or-Snap, rrrribit.”

Snake and Frog were still singing when they met along the way, and they almost bumped into each other. A surprised Frog asked Snake, “Are you a ‘Poke-or-Snap?”

“Oh no,” Snake said with a laugh. “Of course not! I’m a snake, and I slip and slide. Are you a ‘Paws-and-Claws?’”

“Goodness no!” replied Frog, who also laughed. “I’m a Frog. I hop and plop.”

As Frog and Snake wandered together into the bush, they decided to become friends. They hugged and sang:

“Let’s make a wish,

and hope it comes true,

to be friends forever,

me and you.”

Frog and Snake snacked on fruit flies and crunchy bugs. Frog showed Snake how to hop. “Watch me!” she said as she hopped up, up in the air and came down with a PLOP!

Snake tried to hop but ended up getting in quite a tangle on the ground. Then Snake showed Frog how to slither. She went to the top of a mound and slid down – SWOOSH! Frog tried to slide but came down in a clumsy tumble.

Frog and Snake laughed at their mistakes. Dusk arrived soon after, and they knew it was time to go home. “Let’s play again tomorrow,” said Frog. “After all, we’re friends now.”

“Yes we are,” replied Snake. “I will see you tomorrow.” They hugged again and said goodbye.

Frog replied, “Oh, I had such a fun day. I met a snake, and we played together. She taught me to slide, and now we are best friends.”

Ma Frog was horrified. “A snake? Dear child, don’t you know that snakes eat frogs? Snakes are bad, and you must promise me that you will never play with snakes again.”

Frog shivered. “Yes,” she answered. “I understand.”

Nearby, Snake arrived home. Ma Snake said, “My, my. You look tired. Where have you been?”

Snake happily replied, “I have a new friend named Frog. We played, and she showed me how to hop.”

Ma Snake was shocked, “A frog? Little one, you are a snake, and snakes are supposed to eat frogs!”

Ma snake continued, “The next time you see her, you must gobble her up.”

Snake lowered her head and answered, “Yes, Mama. I understand.” The next day Snake went to Frog’s house and called out, “Frog, let’s play together!”

Frog huddled inside her house. “Ha!” she said. “My mother told me how snakes really like to play. No thanks. I’m going to stay right here where I’ll be safe.”

“Ah,” Snake said. “My mother talked to me too, and she told me all about frogs and what I should do.”

Snake continued, “So, I guess there is nothing more to say but goodbye.”

“Farewell,” said Frog.

Frog and Snake never played with each other again.

(“Why Frog and Snake Never Play Together” 26 Nov 2007.> 28 October 2016)

MORAL: “No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” (NELSON MANDELLA)

Musical Affirmation: 10/27/2016


Alternate title:  Lady G, The Golf Pro and Barry White

“I’ve Got So Much To Give” by Barry White (1973)

If you like your symphonic soul dripping with sexual chocolate this one’s for you!

The Late Great Barry White!

All of that unmistakable BARITONE with strings, horns, and every instrument in between.

That’s my kinda heaven 🙂

Ain’t that right Ms. Eve?


There was no one like him before and none since!

Bow down!

And so…

Today’s message:

As a kid, I would often tag along with my Daddy when he went to play golf.

You see, I was born and raised in Augusta, GA.

Home of The Masters Tournament!

And, believe it or not, just about everybody in Augusta played/plays golf.

Baby, when I say everybody, I mean EVERYBODY!

There was no accounting for socioeconomic class when it came to the game of golf 😉


If you didn’t have a lot of money, you played at a public course.

If you did have some money, you played at a private course.

One thing you didn’t do was play at The Augusta National.

Unless your name was Robert Trent Jones, Sr aka Bobby Jones


John D. Rockefeller, III


You were some other kind of magical sorta somebody like my Dad 😉

Yes, you read that right.

My Daddy played The Augusta National!

How’s that?

You see, years ago, The Augusta National employed their own golf caddies.

Interestingly enough, many of them were Black-maybe all of them were.

I don’t know.

Anyway, one of my Daddy’s friends was a caddy.

Well, back in those days, The Augusta National would host a caddy appreciation day.

On that day, the caddies could bring a guest to play a round of golf with them on the course.

And, as you might have figured, Daddy’s friend invited him.


You never know who can make something magical and amazing happen in your life!

Expect the unexpected 🙂

Sorry for that major digression!

Back to my story.

One day, when I was about 11 years old, Daddy and I went to the golf course (NOT The Augusta National).

I really can’t be sure why, but, for whatever reason, I decided to stay at the clubhouse with the Golf Pro whom everybody called…

Wait for it…


Anyway, Pro was a short, ruddy complected red-headed White dude who loved nothing more than a good laugh 🙂

And, since I loved to laugh too we would often joke around together.

I guess he thought I was a funny kid 🙂

At any rate, after a whole lot of guffawing and tomfoolery, Pro and I decided that since it was Saturday afternoon, we should go in the Pro shop, turn on the TV and watch, of all things, “Soul Train.”



I can vividly remember hearing Pro say, “I betcha didn’t know I liked Soul Train!”


Now, to be very honest, the visual and audio dissonance between this man’s appearance and the “Soul Train” theme song almost caused my little mind to implode!

No matter…

There we were, me, Pro, Don Cornelius and all of the “Soul Train” dancers.

On”the hippest trip in America!”

And the ride was fabulous!


Don Cornelius introduced the next guest!


Uh oh!

After seeing Barry White and listening to the opening notes of his song, Pro immediately rose from his chair and changed the station.

He then looked at me and said, “I like soul but that’s too much soul for me.”

And, with that, we both started laughing like hell!

In the end, we settled on a rerun of “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom!”

Good ole Marlin Perkins.

And so…

What is the point of this horridly long story?

Here’s the point:

Although Pro was open-minded, he had his limits!  Poor guy, he never took the time to learn that Barry White was a musical genius who conducted his own Orchestra!

Love Unlimited Baby!

Pro, didn’t know what he didn’t know.

He missed an opportunity to take off the limits and further broaden his experience 🙂

And now…

Today’s Affirmation:  I am open to new and exciting experiences.


Let’s go forth into new and exciting experiences!

We can:

Try a new cuisine!

Listen to some new music!

Read or learn something that is completely foreign to us.

Meet some new people; preferably some folks who have a background that is very different from ours.

Take a different route home.

Go some damn where else.

Now I’m going with Barry.

How ’bout you?

Get into it!

Love and light my friends 🙂

Lady G


Random October Day 1979


Wanna play ‘Questions?’


I’ll start us off….


What’s your name and sign?

My name is Gwin and I’m a Capricorn.

What’s your nickname?

My Daddy calls me Doola Bug.

Nobody else calls me that though.

Only my Daddy.

Do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend?

No, but I like a boy named—-

Actually, I like another boy named —- too.

I can’t tell you who they are because they might see this.

They don’t know.

I want it to stay a secret.


What’s your favorite color?

My favorite color is blue.

Do you have any sisters and brothers?

I have one little brother who gets on my nerves.

He always in the way!

Where are you from?

I’m from here.

I was born at the old University Hospital.

Do you have any pets?

I have two Dobermans, one name is Princess and one name is Demon.


Princess is the meanest.

Demon is the nicest.

I bet you didn’t guess that right!

Who is your favorite singer?

My favorite singer is Michael Jackson.

I want to marry him but Daddy say he too old.

Daddy say he’ll be using a walker by time I’m old enough to get married.

Oh and I like another singer name Prince.

He sing that song “Soft and Wet.”

And, he kinda look like a very pretty lady.

But not Michael, he look like a real man.

Oh yeah, there’s one more singer I gotta tell you about.

Her name is Teena Marie and I love her.

She white but she sound like she black.

Ain’t that crazy?

What do you like to do for fun?

I like to climb trees and look at the stars at night.

I also like to go to the golf course with my Daddy and eat sandwiches and chips at the clubhouse.

Sometimes, I like to walk the fairway, look at the trees and put my feet in the sand trap.

The only thing I don’t like is you have to be quiet when they trying to putt or T-off.

Anyway, I’ve seen lots of deer and jack-rabbits out on the course.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I want to be a meteorologist.

It didn’t take me long to learn how to spell that word because spelling is one of my best subjects.

Did you know that a meteorologist is just a fancy word for weatherman?

To me, it sound like somebody who studies meteors.

But it’s not.

I know all about the topic because I looked it up in an encyclopedia.

And because of that I already know how to look at the clouds and tell what the weather gonna be.

What’s your favorite cartoon?

My favorite cartoons are Looney Tunes, The Peanuts and I love Scooby Doo.

Oh yeah and I like Pink Panther, The Archies, Sabrina the Good Witch and I like Felix the Cat.

What’s your favorite food?

My favorite food is pizza, hamburgers, tacos and I like popcorn shrimp.

When we go to Red Lobster my Mama let me have a Sprite with cherries and an orange slice.

Sometimes they put a little umbrella in it.

It look like a grown person drink.

One time Daddy let me drink some coke he had in a cup.

Only it wasn’t just coke.

It was something else in it.

It tasted terrible so I spit it out.

He started laughing real loud.

Mama don’t know nothing about that.

Who is your favorite teacher?

My favorite teacher is Mrs. Scott.

She got the longest hair you ever saw but she keeps it back in a bun.

What are your favorite TV shows?

I like to watch Flip Wilson, Sanford and Son, Bewitched, Jeannie, and I like to watch Wonder woman, Bionic woman, Electric Company, Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers.

Oh and I like Mighty Isis and Shazaam.

Sometimes Mama let me stay up and watch Carol Burnett.

Harvey Korman is my favorite one!

I like when he dress up like a lady named Mother Marcus!

If it ain’t nothing else on TV, I’ll watch Hee-Haw.

Here’s a secret:  I like to watch The Lawrence Welk Show.

Don’t tell nobody about that.


Last night we watched the Great Pumpkin!

I love Charlie Brown.

But I can’t stand Lucy.

Do you play a instrument?

I play violin.

I made it as an alternate for all county Orchestra.

At the audition, I forget the rosin for my bow so my bow kept sliding off the string sounding like a cat.

That was dumb.

Uh oh…

I gotta go because me and my brother have to rake the grass so we can go to the fair tonight.

It was nice to meet you.

Don’t forget to write me back and tell me all your answers to my questions.

Before you go I want you to hear some of my favorite Michael Jackson songs:

And I like this one too:

Video Credits:

bere f











Lady G Quickie: On the Move

Not the same girl


Get your mind outta the gutter!

As the name indicates, Lady G is always, first and foremost, a lady 😉

And so…

From time to time, I’d like to quickly share whatever I’m currently enjoying without going into full post mode.

You know how that is 😉

Anyway, for all of my neo-soul, acid jazz, soul throw-back fans, this is for you.

“We are on the move” by Zo! featuring Eric Robertson and Phonté.

I love this groove!

The video is reminiscent of The Whispers during their heyday with S.O.L.A.R. (Sound of Los Angeles Records).

Shout out to California natives, Dave and Tareau over at TheCouchSports blog for doing their podcasting thing on I-Tunes!


While I’m shouting out….

Big up to K. E. Garland and her new book “The Unhappy Wife.”

They are on the move!



Video Credit:  The Foreign Exchange

Eric Robertson doing that run and kick thing is killing me!


Holler back in comments 🙂

Enjoy your weekend my loves.

Lady G 😘💋

Ron’s Time Tunnel: Well I’ll be a “Tom Tanka!”



As a youngster, I always got great enjoyment from visiting Aunt Annie Bell and Uncle Croff. I especially enjoyed watching Uncle Croff work on the little boat motor that was “sometimes” used to propel the little green and silver “jon boat”–green where the paint remained and silver where it had worn away—he and my daddy shared ownership of. I say “sometimes” because, more times than not, Uncle Croff and Daddy “motored” out onto the water, in the little boat, but had to paddle it back in.

Uncle Croff was forever tinkering with the motor. Often, Daddy, with us kids in tow, would ride over to his house to check on his progress and to see if any “patabah worms” were on his “patabah tree” (our word “patabah”, I later learned, was actually a transliteration of “catalpa” or “Catawba”).

Entomologically speaking, Catalpa or Catawba worms are hairless caterpillars of the Sphinx Moth, whose taxonomic designation is, “Ceratomia catalpa”; of course, none of us knew that then, not even my “college educated” father. All we knew, was that they made for some awesome fish bait.

Many days, Uncle Croff could be found in the backyard of his home, with the boat motor attached to the inside lip of a 50-gallon drum of oily water. He’d tinker a bit then yank the starter cord, causing the motor to cough, sputter and spit, much like Uncle Croff coughed, sputtered, and spit when he hocked up his huge luggies.

Occasionally, and I do mean occasionally, the motor would crank. The motor would growl to life, its propeller, submerged deep inside the barrel, causing the water below to churn and the water at the surface to bubble, boil and smoke like some wicked, “witches brew”.

“Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and caldron bubble.”

On the few occasions when the motor started—and stayed running—the reticent smirk, which served as Uncle Croff’s smile, and the jubilant grin, that breached Daddy’s face, bore witness to how much that seemingly simple act meant to them, as they spoke loudly over the roar of the motor about the upcoming fishing trip that was sure to happen, now that the motor was “running”.

It was on one of these occasions that Uncle Croff shared the following “lie” with us; of course, all of Uncle Croff’s “lies” were “true”, (I’ll leave you to ponder that statement as we listen to Uncle Croff’s tale);

‘So, a little Black boy and his daddy was fishing from the bank at the ‘backup water’ one day. This was the little ‘Tom Tanka’s’ first time fishing in such a large body of water (“Tom Tanka”, being one of Uncle’s favorite terms of “endearment”). He was used to fishing on creeks and such.

The day was a nice, quiet day. Off in the distance could be heard the occasional splash of a big bass jumpin’ up out of the water to catch a mayfly, or ‘snake doctor’, or some such flyin’ booger, then come’a splashin’ back down into the water. That sound always made me want to throw my fishin’ line out to the spot where he splashed, but I guess those jumpin’ fish only like flyin’ boogers, ‘cause I never caught a one of ‘em.

The only other sounds which was heard was of a Whip-Poor-Will and a ole Screech Owl talkin’ to once another. The Whip-Poor-Will called, unmercifully, for the floggin’ of some poor miscreant named Will, who the owl must have not have heard tell of, b‘cause he kept’a  hollerin’ back, “Who? Who? Who?”

Then the Whippoorwill would holler back, ‘Whip-Poor-Will!’

I always wondered what old Will had done, to deserve such a whipping. Perhaps he done stole a pie coolin’ in some poor widow’s window, who knows?

Well, anyhigh, they’d been fishing for an hour of two when slowly, another sound creeped to within earshot of the boy and his daddy. It started off as a low hum, like locusts hummin’ in the trees, but wasn’t no locusts yet ‘cause it was still early in the day.

The hum increased to a buzz, like a old worrisome horsefly buzzin’ ‘round ya ears. Then it was a moan, like the sound Sister Bessie make when she gits the Holy Ghost. Then all of a suddenly, it quit. There was nothin’ but silence, ‘ceptin’ for Whippoorwill callin and the old owl saying who, who, who.

The boy and his daddy peered off into the direction the sound had been comin’ from and could jest make out the figure of two White men sittin’ on a jon boat. ‘Them there is White men boy’, the boy’s daddy whispered. The little boy sat awestruck cause he had never seen White Men a’fore.

One of the men was drinking from a jug of “spirits” and the other was tuggin’ furiously at the starter cord which was attached to the little motor, on the back end of the john boat. Parently, it had done choked out and he was temptin’ to get it started again.

The boat had continued to drift closer towards the boy and his dad. Now they voices could be heard and the two White Men, by tone and gesture, appeared to be arguin’. The one who’d been sipping the liquor from the jug, hollered out, “Dammit man! The damnation thang is probably out of gas!”, with that he grabbed a large gasoline can from the bottom of the boat and began to stumble toward the back of the boat, where stood the other man, with one hand on his hip and the other scratching his shiny white forehead.

Along the way, the boozer tripped on somethin’ and the gasoline can flew outta his hands into the water; all of the gasoline spilt out the can and into the water.

The other man, yelled at the tipsy one saying, ‘If you weren’t a dranking this here ‘shine you wouldn’t a have spilled the gasoline ya dang old drunk!’  With that he reached into the bottom of the boat and grabbed out a jug of shine. He uncorked it and poured it into the water, while his snookered partna scrambled to get to his feet to stop him. The tippler was unsuccessful, as the stream of shine hit the water with a splash.

The man who was still standing, grabbed a second jug from outta the bottom of the boat and poured it into the water, while the ole stumblebum railed aginst him. The man poured the second jug into the water. ‘Now grab a paddle you ole drunk and start to paddle’, he said as he pulled out a pack of cigarette papers from his vest pocket.

He loaded a cigarette paper with tobacco from a red can and licked it closed, then he pulled a match out of from his front pocket and struck it against the back pocket of his dungarees. After lighting his cigarette, he tossed the match into the water, setting alight the ‘shine and gasoline mixture, thus causing a great explosion and a fire that spread acrost the water!

The little boy was awestruck! When him and his daddy return’t home, he couldn’t wait to tell his momma what he had seent. ‘Ma!’ he yelled, mostly out of breath. I saw the most amazing thing today’. ‘You did honey?’ asked the momma, ‘And what was that?’ she finished. ‘Daddy showed me a White Man. ‘He did reply the momma’, ‘Yeah it was amazin’, finished the little ‘Tom Tanka’.

‘These two White men was on a boat. One of ‘em was drunk!  They started to argue and the drunk one fell down. The other one musta been real mad ‘cause, he grabbed thunder outta his shirt pocket and lightening outta his front pocket! Then he scratched his ass and set the whole world on fire! Ma! Them White Men is some TOM TANKAS!’

Momma chastised the little Tom Tanka for exaggerating and cussing, and sent him out to clean the fish.

The moral of the story is this: Perspective is a Sumbitch!

Musical Affirmation: 10/20/2016


“Another Park, Another Sunday” by the Doobie Brothers Released in 1974


Yes, that!

Talk about a groove that’s smooth and sincere?

A beautiful composition without a bit of pretension.

Baby, it’s nothing short of DIVINE!

Real instruments and harmonies?


That GUITAR is speaking to my heart y’all!

Peep that bass towards the end of this jam!

Lawd, it’s going all around town!


You know what’s up!

Anyway, on a serious note, from time to time I catch myself feeling a bit blah.

The kids call it “feeling some type of way.”

Basically, it’s one of those emotions that you just don’t quite have words to describe.

Well, whatsoinever (Southern Black colloquialism alert)  you decide to call it, you best believe that there’s an underlying reason for it.

Sometimes more than one 😉

I’ve found, when I take a closer look, that my mood tends to wane whenever I poke around too much in the past AND when I worry too much about the future.

What a nonsensical and impractical approach to time travel 🙂

It goes NOWHERE!

Anywhats, one thing’s for sure, if I allow myself to ‘feel some type of way’ for too long then I’m guaranteed to begin ruminating over all of my life experiences with:







Being overly sensitive








And on and on and on and on….

Don’t get me wrong, I know that as a human being I should display a full range of emotions.  However, ruminating over them is never a good idea.

What’s funny is that some of these emotional states didn’t even necessarily originate with me. In essence, at some point, I wasn’t paying attention so I inadvertently picked them up along the way.

Can you say, “Relationships?”

I think you feel me 🙂

And so…

In order to cut this madness off at the pass, I allow myself to indulge those lowly feelings—ever so briefly.

How long you ask?

Oh…for about five minutes–you know, about the length of an average song 😉

And so…

Today’s affirmation:  Right now, I choose to envelop myself in peace!

Now, you and I are going to take the duration of this song to sulk and coddle our inner wounds.

After it ends, I suggest that we promptly get into that place of peace–you know, over there with the Lord.


Give it to ’em Doobies!

Video Credit:  stlblair

My friends, what do you do to find peace?

I’m open to suggestions!  Meet me in comments 🙂

Much love to you-as always,

Lady G 😘💋


If you’re an R&B/Soul music fan please check out the “My Jams” series under the Category “Music.”  In that series, I highlight my favorite jams from 1966-1996.  Beware, it contains strong language, adult situations and controversial observations.

True Railroad Stories: The Peanut Man


Hi Guys!

Some of you may remember that I previously posted a few of my Daddy’s tales from his 30-something year railroad career which spanned from the late 1960’s to the late 1990’s.

Naturally, he has a lot of amazing true stories to tell 🙂 

Just in case you’ve missed earlier posts, you can click on the links that I have included below. Trust me you will NOT be disappointed.

Today’s story is very inspiring and I am sure you’ll enjoy it!

Take it away Daddy!

LadyG 😘💋


Early on in my Railroad career, I worked as a flagman for a major railroad in the South.  At that time, I was assigned to a local freight train that operated daily between a large city and a smaller town in Georgia.

As the only black crew member in the late 1960’s, I was often exposed to racism–Many times to the point of depression.

However, the events in this story helped me to regain my faith and hope in mankind.

The person that I give most credit to restoring my faith was a white brakeman that I will call “Charlie.”

Although Charlie was not particularly fond of black people, we worked pretty well together.  He and I did most of the ground work when our train stopped in sidetracks to switch industries or pick or set-off railcars.

In one of the towns where we worked, we would often meet up with “The Peanut Man.”

The Peanut Man was an elderly black gentleman who rode around town on a three-wheel bike with a basket on the back filled with boiled and roasted peanuts.

Now, to the best of my recollection, The Peanut Man wore the exact same outfit every time we saw him–a worn and tattered black suit with a frayed white collared shirt.  A faded red bowtie, black fedora and horned rimmed glasses completed his ensemble.

Despite the ragged condition of his clothing, I often marveled at the way in which his deep dark complexion accentuated his smooth leathery skin.

Anyway, whenever Charlie and I stopped in The Peanut Man’s hometown, he’d start pedaling-feverishly- right toward us.  

Of course, we knew that he knew that we were his best customers.

 Why was that?  

Well, Charlie and I once asked The Peanut Man if he ever got tired of pedaling around town in order to sell his peanuts.  We wondered this because the town had several steep hills and, as I implied, he was well past his prime.

The Peanut man replied, “Yeah, but I need to make much money as I can.”

Though we didn’t say anything, Charlie and I both knew good and well that this man was too old to seek and find regular employment so selling peanuts was his only option for making a living.

With that in mind, whenever we saw him, we’d always buy as many bags as we could afford.

In fact, Charlie often bought much more than I did.

Here’s the amazing thing, I learned several years later that Charlie did not eat peanuts-nor did anyone else in his family.

From time to time I still wonder why he continued to buy all those peanuts.

Do you have any idea why?

-The Conductor

LOL!!!! Hey Da, I have my suspicions but I think I’ll leave it to my friends to try to hazard a guess in the comment section!


Other “True Railroad Stories” from Dad:

The Coal Toss

The Passengers

The Gathering of The Fireflies



Sunday Dinner with Lady G’s Son 10-16-2016

Steak tips with mushrooms, spinach, apricot glazed butternut squash and basmati rice

So last Sunday, I shared a shot of my Sunday dinner.

In that post I talked about how much I love to cook and eat.  I also shared that I learned to cook by watching Mama.


Apparently, I wasn’t the only one watching Mama; it seems that my dear son, Sir R, was taking a couple of notes of his own.

Ever since he was about 10 years old, Sir R, has been very interested in cooking. And, with that being the case, he would watch me, Mama and Daddy whenever we went into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

In addition, he watched episode after episode of “Good Eats” with Alton Brown.

Before I knew anything, this kid was preparing full course meals by age 11.

When I say full course, I mean FULL COURSE!

Did I tell you about the time he cooked the most delectable and succulent standing rib roast you could ever imagine when he was only about 15 years old?


No frozen pizzas and ramen noodles for this dude 🙂

My baby can throw down in the kitchen–as evidenced by the meal pictured above 😉

To be honest, I’m glad too.

I used to tell him, “You need to learn how to cook whatever you like to eat, I don’t want you marrying somebody just because she can cook your favorite dish!”


Forgive me guys, I crack my own self up sometimes 🙂

Anyway, a couple of years after graduating high school and going off to college, Sir R decided to become a certified personal trainer.

He had already established and maintained a healthy lifestyle so I encouraged him to go ahead and make it official.

And so…

As a health nut  health enthusiast, and lover of good food, my baby boy digs creating nutritious versions of most any traditional dish.

To that end, he enjoys experimenting with unconventional ingredients in order to prepare balanced meals that are both cost effective and tasty.

Believe it or not, you don’t have to spend a whole lot of money to eat healthfully!


I really wish you guys were here to partake of this meal with us 😉

Any thoughts?  I’d love to hear them!  Meet me in comments 🙂


Enjoy the rest of your day and I pray that you have a blessed week !

Love Lady G and Sir R!