Tag Archives: writing

Mommy ‘s Handfuls, Mommy’s Joy Full

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She snores lightly on as I watch adoringly

Never mind she has just gotten into bed with me, disrupting my less than 6hour sleep
Her face in framed in peace as she breathes in and out.

She chews softly still as I watch smilingly 
Never mind she has just eaten through my perfectly portioned meal, reducing what was really less than enough
Her lips pursed in joy as she nibbles the last stewed beef.

I smile in both cases rest and satisfaction far from me, albeit badly needed
Such handfuls these ones can be, a never ending handful these ones will seem
But with each handful is 
My joy full… My love whole…

They are a handful
They are my joy full

  

Tribute Tuesday

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One of the fondest memories I have of my mom is her in the kitchen cooking. She always wanted me to be a part of it and asked that I stay in the kitchen to watch while she cooked. I hated it!

I was going to grow up and become a lawyer, never marry, and just try and win cases, why did I need to learn about cooking?

She made good foods and one of her many specialties was Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew), it is native to her state of origin, Ondo in Nigeria.

Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew),

Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew),

When she made this stew, she would put all sorts in it and say “òkèlè kan, ọmọ ìgbín kan, aye n be l’Ondo egin” loosely translated “every dip of your morsel into the stew you pick a bit of baby snails” We loved eating the stew…ask anyone who knows, it is a delight…and even when things got rough and they did from ‘94-01 and especially between ‘99-01, she still made them although adding meats became expensive. She still cooked them with ponmo (cow skin) just because she knew we loved eating it. We had a funny name for the stew then and it made her laugh out loud. Still all I wanted to do was eat it and not make it…

Back pedal further to 2001 a few days after she passed away, I had to follow one of my aunts to the market to get food items, sigh… I hated it!

We got home and I went into the kitchen to drop off the items and for whatever reason, I cooked Yam and fried eggs with chunks of Titus fish…I made that meal almost every night for that period, and after the funeral and visits were all concluded, I found myself in the kitchen making turkey stew for one of my brothers to take back to university.

Turkey stew became my specialty, and every chance I got I would cook it…I also started making coleslaw and remember making it with my sister for a friend’s 21st birthday.

I moved to the US and found myself cooking ever so often. Dodo& gizzard was now my specialty and every chance I got I would bring a tray to parties for free, then it was fried rice, now it’s all sorts…I always looked for opportunities to bring food to parties…I found that I thoroughly enjoyed cooking.

These days, I wish I had stayed in the kitchen with her…I wish I had learned to cook from her…still I try to look back on our time together and picture a few things she did here and there…my dad and siblings give input as they are able.

Today I am cooking Obe ilá alasepo, as a tribute to her as I make up my mind to pursue this joyful passion fearlessly. I will put every kind of meat I have in the stew…and I have a lot, thank God. I will sit back and dip my morsel into it…smile in memory of mommy and wish if only for one second she was here to share this meal with me.

:).

Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew), pẹlu iyan (pounded  yam)

Obe ilá Alasepo (Okra stew), pẹlu iyan (pounded yam)

(To say I didn’t cry while writing this would be a lie, but that’s OK for I find my honest moments in words are when the tears flow free).

Cooking Food

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    It is the simplicity therein

    The joy that comes from cooking food
    The love that goes into eating food
    Sometimes it is the other way around
    The love that goes into cooking food
    The joy that comes from eating food
    

    New Year Greetings

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    With the New Year comes new dreams, visions, and desires…a fresh chance at a new start. Here’s hoping life opens up the year to us like never before; dreams falling in place, purposes taking flight, visions realized.

    Happy New Year! May it be your best yet…

    Last year, my fingers didn’t find time for the keyboard or pen as much as I would have liked, and it looks like it might be no different this year.

    I will continue to write in my notes and such but I might not be able to share as I would like to…some major accomplishments require my undivided attention, and so I need to reprioritize my time, and schedule. I will make every effort to share whenever I can but please don’t hold me to it, especially if I go several months without sharing anything.

    Feel free to reach out via email, Facebook, or twitter. I can’t promise I will be regular on those outlets as well, but it will be nice to hear from you once a while.

    Have a fulfilling and blessed 2014.

    Love loads,
    Boomie

    Hope Gone, Words Lost

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    Blood is said to be thicker than water
    But not in this instant
    NO
    Not in this moment of dark shadows
    In this moment each fallen tear marks stains
    Stains deeper than blood from crimson red fingers pen stabbed sore
    Words however small would not come
    Thoughts however hazy will not form
    Family and blood ties offer no motivation
    Words would not come
    A most unusual muse offers no comfort…
    Vodka and tonic are like water in the shadow of two nights
    Fingers shake and cry blood
    Shot glasses stack high in cigarette butt
    Eyes red with unshed tears as the first cock crows
    Clarity unfound in the last drop…