The Flowering Vine: Dem Bones

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Today’s “Flowering Vine” entry tells the tale of an event involving my and Ron’s Grandfather (Leroy), our Great- Grandmother (Mary), and our uncle (Bernard).

 

Dem Bones

-By Ron Brown

The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones, and caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry.

Leroy’s sixth birthday was made even more special because Mary was headed into town and—as was her custom—had invited Leroy and—by default—Bernard to ride along.  When Leroy turned six years old, he was already tall. He towered over his little, “brown brother”, Bernard. Leroy was Mary’s pride and joy. He was, in her words, “Grandma’s big boy”. Leroy always rode “shotgun”, while Bernard scooted from one side of the back of the wagon, to the other, depending upon which side’s sights were more stimulating.

For Leroy, what was in front of him, was much more mesmerizing than what was to the left, right or the rear of him. He sat quietly, keeping his eyes forward. Mary admired him for this trait and would often encourage him by leaning over to him and whispering, “That’s right Grandma’s big boy, keep them eyeballs peeled”.

This day however, as they rolled down the rambling road, neither Mary’s fierce focus nor Leroy’s eagle eyes could have saved them from what happened next, for just ahead of them, from out of the roadside briars and bramble shot a streak of white. It slithered swiftly and silently across the road in front of the two black mules hitched to Mary’s buckboard.

The two black mules reared simultaneously, at the sight of the albino coachwhip. The sudden jerk of the reins, held tightly in Mary’s tenacious grip, snatched her formidable form forward, in front of the wagon and behind the mules. The mules stepped back; one of them, adventitiously, stomping Mary’s thigh, fracturing her femur. Leroy heard the sickening crack as the bone in his grandmother’s thigh gave way to the weight of the thousand-pound animal’s hoof. The usually silent Leroy, screamed; the usually vocal Mary, was silent.

Leroy leaped down from his perch on the wagon’s seat, then calmed the frightened mules, whose pallid pariah, had now disappeared into the underbrush on the opposite side of the dirt road. Once the mules had regained their composure, Leroy rushed over to Mary and kneeled down beside her. She looked at him affectionately, then gently stroked the side of his face with a trembling hand and wheezed, go get help Grandma’s big boy.

Mary was careful not to instill any additional fear or panic into her grandson. Leroy worked his jaw muscles viciously, as he struggled to maintain his customary calmness. Leroy, looked sternly upon his baby brother Bernard and chided him, “Stay with Grandma boy, I’m going to get help!” and away he went, as fast as his long, lanky legs would carry him. The nearest house was just over a mile down the torturously twisting, dust-topped road.

And He said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knoweth. Again, he said unto me, ‘Prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord”.

Mary lay quietly in the dust and sang to herself softly:

“Ezekiel connected dem—dry bones,

Ezekiel connected dem—dry bones,

Ezekiel in the Valley of—Dry Bones,

Now hear the word of the Lord.”

To be continued…

Alright?

Today’s question:
Are we gon’ be alright?
Hats off to my son, to Mr. Kendrick Lamar, and to all my favorite Millenials who are asking this very question 🙂
Peace, love and light to you all!
Lady G 😘💋

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Updated 3/30/2016 at 10:47 am

“I am a full grown woman, what in the hell do I look like listening to some Kendrick Lamar?”

Yes friends, that was my exact response to my dear twenty-something year old son who had tried his absolute best to convince me to check out one of his favorite hip hop artists.

Now let me level with you.  Even though I opted NOT to listen to Mr. Lamar at that specific point in time, I did keep the idea under my cap.  Frankly, I felt comfortable doing so because I happen to know that my son is quite discriminating when it comes to music; best believe I raised him to be that way.  As the mother of a young and beautiful black man, I simply refused to allow him to listen to BS lyrics even if they were attached to a funky track—and you know…

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Lady G’s Christmas Pasta

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YAAASSSS!  Lady G is feeling a little bit better today so you know I had to hit the kitchen hard!

And so…

I decided to cook one of my holiday favorites.

I call it ‘Christmas Pasta’ because it includes red peppers, green baby spinach and white alfredo sauce!

Of course there’s the bowtie pasta and crab meat!

Think I didn’t when I did?

YAAASSSSS!

Ah…. now I hear you guys saying, “Lady G, what choo know about Italian cuisine?”

Well, all I gotta say is that it might not be authentic but it’s Italian enough for the folks in my house!

Alright!

To all of my friends in Italy, please forgive me! You know I love y’all!

Okay, on a serious note, I’d like to say a huge ‘thank you’ to all of you who wished me well during my battle with this cold!

WordPress is best!

Anyway…

I am including pictures of the ingredients that I used.

See if you can spot the run-a-way piece of crab meat :).

Mama would have been horrified!

“Wipe that counter girl!”

Anywhats, if you choose to recreate this dish, be sure to double check your crab meat for shells.

Otherwise, you might experience a dental problem mid meal.

By the way, if you are intimidated by homemade alfredo sauce you can buy some already made from your local grocer.

Of course, if you choose to purchase a jar, the end result might not be the highest quality.

But that said, I’m sure it will be just fine!

It just won’t be Lady G’s!

YAAASSSS!

Enjoy and have a great week!

Love and light to you!

Lady G😘💋

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PS:  The brown mixing bowl that I used here belonged to my mother so we affectionately refer to it as ‘Ms. Eva.”

 

 

The Flowering Vine: Mother Speaks on Botanicals and Books

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In today’s entry of “The Flowering Vine,” “Mother,” who was both my and Ron’s Grandmother talks about natural healing as well as barriers to healthcare and education for ‘Colored’ people in the Jim Crow South.  She also discusses a bit more about her own education.

For those of you who are interested, I included a link in today’s story to a book about Mother’s school, Ballard Normal, in Macon, GA. 

It is important to note that students at ‘Ballard’ were being groomed to pursue careers in education as opposed to more traditional vocations.

It should also be noted that “Mother,” whose name was Annie Maude, lived to be 100 years old.  

She passed away in the Spring of 2012.

By the way, although “Mother” was highly educated and very well read, she typically used an informal conversational style in the vernacular of that timeframe–especially when speaking with close family and friends (which all of you are!)

Much of Mother’s recollections for today’s story are set in Alabama during the early to late 1920’s. 

______________

Annie Maude!

Get out that book and come go with me and Elvy down to the patch!

You hear me?

I ain’t gon’tell you no mo.’

Now listen here, when we get out there, I want you to watch how me and Elvy go through them bushes.
Watch what we pick!
One day you gon’ need them same plants to make your teas and rubs for when you get married and your chillun’ get sick and thang.
We ain’t always gon’ be ‘roun’ to do it for ya.
You gon’ have to learn for ya self now!
__________
Chile, I wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout goin’ out in no woods lookin’ for nothin’!
HA!
I wasn’t hardly thinkin’ ‘bout that!
But you know that didn’t stop Mama from makin’ me go with her and Aunt Elvy to hunt for herbs.
As I got older,  I wish I hadda paid more attention to what they was doin’ because Mama and Aunt Elvy-nem knew how to find all kind of plants, roots and herbs to make teas, tonics and tinctures.
They could cure just about any sickness under creation!
Lemme tell ya, one time I got so sick from throwin’ up I started havin’ what they call a ‘bilious attack!’
You know that’s when you go to dry-heavin’ ‘cause ain’ nothin’ left on your stomach but yellow bile.
Chile, Aunt Elvy fixed me some tea made out of somethin’ she got out them woods…
Lawd have mercy!
I don’t know what it was but after I drank it I soon got alright.
Folks have said that Mama-nem knew how to do root work too….but I ain’t never seen ’em do it.
All I know about is the cures they had for regular ailments.
I ain’t never seen ‘em do no Hoodoo!
Hmmm….Gwin, I say, I ain’t never seen ‘em do Hoodoo but that don’t mean they ain’t never done it!
I learned long time ago to never say ‘never.’
HA!
I’m tellin’ you chile!
But you know what?  They say Ma Hallie could lay her hands on folks and heal an injury …say she didn’t use nothin’ but her hands!
You reckon folks thought that was Hoodoo?
HA!
Anyway…
Back then, we had to work with what we had ‘cause Colored people couldn’t just run to no medical doctors or psychiatrists or nothin’like that.
You know them White doctor’s wouldn’t take no Colored patients-even if they did have the money to pay ’em.
Ooh!
It was just a shame!

 

I’ve known folks to bleed to death ’cause no White Doctor would help ’em!

Humph!

Jesus!

Anyway, Mama-nem wanted me to learn ‘bout them herbs but nooooo, at that time, I was more interested in gettin’ my lesson.
See, you gotta remember back then a lot of folks didn’t go to school so they couldn’t read too well.
And if they was able to go to school they usually didn’t go no farther than the elementary grades.
I’m talking’ ‘bout white folks too now!
And even then people usually had to quit so they could work and help take care of the family.
Chile, times was hard for everybody!
Children these days ain’t got no idea how hard it used to be to get an education.
Some of ‘em take it for granted.
Honey, in my day, it was near’ bout impossible for folks to go past the 8th grade.
Especially Coloreds.
I just thank the Lord that I had a chance to go a little higher than that.
You see, after I finished 8th grade over here, Mama-nem used what little money they had to send me to school over in Georgia.
While I was there I completed both the 9th and the 10th grade!
I was on a path to become a teacher!
But not too long after I started the 11th grade, Ma Hallie called me back home ‘cause Mama had done got bad off.
Of course I had to help take care of her so I never did get to go back to school.
Hmm hmm hmm!
But you know The Lord knew what he was doin’ ‘cause if I had stayed over in Macon, I might not have ever met and married Leroy and none of y’all woulda been born!
Shole wouldn’t have been!
_________
Anyway…
Gwin, look at me! I been doin’ all the talkin!’
“That’s alright Grandma, I love hearing those old stories!”
Humph, when I was your age I used to like to listen to the ‘old folks’ tell stories too.
Now it looks like I’m the ‘old folks.’
 HA!

Me and My Sky

Lady G has a cold!
Hence, all the reblogs!

Today, I’m sharing more about my obsession with sky gazing 🙂

Ah, but I promise to bring something new for you on “The Flowering Vine” tomorrow!

Love you guys! Have a magnificent day! 😘💋

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picjumbo.com_HNCK0852 Photo by Viktor Hanacek

Growing up, I was the little girl who always looked upward. I would stare at the night sky for hours and imagine myself sitting on a star looking back down at Earth. On crisp fall and winter nights I would seat myself on my “tree bench” so that I could get a better look at the moon. By the way, in case you are wondering, I had a “tree bench” because my dad didn’t have the time or the money to build a tree house, so he nailed two 2 X 4 wood boards crosswise on a branch for me to sit on as I gazed at the sky.  Anyway, to say that I was obsessed with all things celestial would be putting it lightly.

As I recollect memories about my interest in the sky, I can’t help remembering the time that my mother’s friend pointed…

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