Healthy Air

I know you have all seen the articles encouraging us to share our space with house plants. Those stories typically stay by listing all the reasons for poor air quality and resulting health hazards then recommends one large plant per room.  The first thing I do when I come across these stories is replace my overdue furnace filter, but on this day I happened to walk by the house plants and these two little guys spoke to me.

Green Plant Purple plant

Well, I’m not a green thumb, as my husband will gladly point out. But I grew up in a house filled with plants larger and older than my brothers and me, so I’ve tried with mixed results. We will see how well I do keeping them going.

Braided Dreadlock Updo

Living to His Glory

I stopped for a moment to try and keep the sweat from dripping completely in my eye. There it was, a perfectly round drop precariously dangling from my lashes. It’s not quite 7 am, but I’ve been out pulling weeds from my neglected flower beds.  In between the sweat, humidity, unusual rain showers,  and heat of  a  typical St. Louis summer, I’m dodging fuzzy bumble bees and dragon flies as they harvest my garden.  FlowersJust as I was about to finish up, out of the corner of my eye   I spied the familiar sort of side gate topped off by four white fuzzy paws and a gray beard. He is in high spirits as he loudly proclaims to the fellow hounds in the neighborhood “Where my dogs at!”


Duffy, the pooch in question, is a 14 year old miniature schnauzer with a pup’s energy and attitude. What’s so amazing about this little fellow is about 5 weeks ago he was attacked and received injuries so severe the vets were counseling me on “putting him to sleep.”  Suffice it to say I said no, and in less than a week Duffy was ready to go and they were glad to be rid of him. The dogs, animals, the rumbly bumbly bumble bees I watched this morning, all living their lives doing what only they were meant to do.

Nappylocs style Dreadlock style

Weekend Warrior

From my nappy brother:
People kept asking me if I was ready for the race, but honestly, the race wasn’t ready for me. I was sure of it, from the moment we parked the car outside of the Warrior Dash, this race was beneath me. That’s not to say I didn’t think it would be fun, I was honest when I told my sister that I looked forward to it, but when she kept insisting that “This is the real deal,” I just nodded. Of course this sort of thing might be hard for someone like her, but I had been training for this for over a month, running 5Ks over intense Missouri hills. I was ready.
Nappy Brother
We dropped our bags at the check in, and made our way toward the starting line, past the beer vendor and concert stage. Several times I had heard this race referred to as a “mud run”, and as I wandered to where the others were gathering I thought I knew why. There was a squelching noise that accompanied every step I took towards the starting area. Wet grass and dirt clung to my shoes, but it was nothing I hadn’t run in before. “WARRIOR DASH” was splashed in bright red across a black banner above the runners. Speakers blasted music all around us, and twin flame jets spat hot fire into the air above us. The race had begun, and I was ready.
About ten or so minutes in I realized that there was significantly more mud than I had anticipated. The mud sucked my shoe up to my ankle with every step, and it was all I could do to keep a brisk pace without twisting my foot clean off my body. I thought I had long since left my sister and her husband in the dust, until my brother in law, Ben, passed me by with a nonchalant “Sup?”
Eventually I was trudging downhill, and then suddenly I was sliding. Soon every step sent me slipping  left and right along the trail. “This is terrible” Ben concluded, and I agreed. This was definitely the worst kind of mud to run in. I slid into a puddle with a massive splash. When I looked down I saw that I was up to my knees in muddy water.  I stood corrected. Ben plowed on, and I would not be left behind.
During the course of the run we lifted ourselves over walls, walls that gradually grew higher and higher. Upon reaching the top of one particular wall and looking down over the other side I remembered that I was in fact afraid of heights. I laughed to myself as I grabbed the mud-slick rope and began my descent; it was a little late to be scared now.
Over the flames
Eventually came the final stretch of the race, and I was swimming underneath barbed wire in brown, gritty water. I had lost my glasses in the mud at this point, and there was no hope of finding them. I was exhausted as I lifted myself out of the last pit, covered from my head to my toes in wet, clinging earth, and all that I had waiting for me in the baggage I brought with me was a clean pair of sandals, but I did it. I wasn’t ready, but I did it anyway. Story of my life!
Swimming in mud

Happy 4th!

This has been a very busy week to say the least. Being of a certain age, that is having grand-babies, I came across my old highschool grad pic. It’s literally been more than ten years since I’ve taken that trip down memory lane. If anyone tells you that you look the same as you did in highschool, please know  they’ve just lied to you . LOL. I mean you can look good at any age but to say you haven’t changed or aged since highschool means you were one old looking kid. Those days are behind me and the grand babies love to pat those giggly parts that I knew nothing about as a teenager. So here’s the point, live each day as if there is no tomorrow, and don’t fret about not being good enough. If you don’t like you, how can you expect anyone else to like you.

Seems like some groups of women  have been “struggling” a long time. Have you noticed the more powerful a woman  is, the less feminine or pretty they are perceived by some? Why can’t we be both?! While the ladies that are reading this are involved in the festivities of caring for your families and loved ones, make sure you take some pretty time out for yourselves this holiday. I’m including a pic from Dolce and Gabanna fall fashion show 2015 fall backstage.  There are wonderful broaches and pins the designer used to adorn simple feminine hairstyles. You will also see in my pics old broaches and pins that I’ve purchased from thrift stores, estate sales and cheapos from Micheal’s.dolce and gabannahair pins 011-2hair pins 021I’ve added a little brass wire to some, but use your imagination and have some fun adding interest to a simple hairstyle. Get pretty and enjoy the day!