Indian Arrival Day and Corpus Christi 2013

In the last month I have had 896 hits on my various Indian Arrival Day blogs which I began in 2010.  I decided not to write one this year as there is very little I can add to the last three posts apart from the fact that it is 168 years since the first Indians arrived here in Trinidad and Tobago on the ship, the Fatel Razack and began work in the cane fields as indentured labourers.  

This year the Roman Catholic Feast of Corpus Christi falls on the 30 May which is also the celebration of Indian Arrival Day so instead of one Public Holiday incorporating both, the government in its infinite wisdom, decided that tomorrow, Friday should also be a Public Holiday.  Talk about catering to the masses!!  

Corpus Christi is a liturgical solemnity celebrating the tradition and belief in the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ and His presence in the Eucharist.  It emphasizes the joy of the institution of the Eucharist

On this day when we celebrate both Indian Arrival and Corpus Christi I am once again  struck by the diverse culture of this twin island Caribbean nation.  Whilst the two islands are predominantly Roman Catholic, a great many of those of East Indian descent are of the Hindu faith.  I am heartened by the fact that religious intolerance is not a major factor in this country.

So to my friends out there, whether you are celebrating your Catholicism or the arrival of your ancestors, I wish you all a very happy day. 

A Sad Day in Woolwich, London UK

After a traumatic day when London and by extension the United Kingdom was turned inside out, I wish all my friends a peaceful night. Oh that we could work together to rid this world of the fanaticism that will ultimately destroy us if we allow it to.

“The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything” ― Albert Einstein

Dandelion and Burdock

MAGPIE 169

Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth

Photograph courtesy Tess Kinkaind, Magpie Tales on Blogger

What is an English summer

Without

Rubbing your body

With burdock leaves

Soothing

Away

Prickling

Nettle bite

Stinging the skin

What is an English summer

Without

Sitting in a field

Holding the stalk

Up high 

And

Blowing

Dandelion fluff

Into the breeze

What is an English summer
Without
Lazing with friends
Raising a glass
Of dandelion
And 
Burdock
Drinking a toast
To each other 

Barbara M Lake

Trinidad W!

May 2013

Mother's Day 2013

I posted the following on Face Book in the early hours of this morning and I'd like to share my amazing experience.

The most extraordinary thing has just happened. I am sitting here in my kitchen at around 1.00am with the windows wide open. I was looking for yellow roses to put up in a bid to send all good wishes for Mother's Day to my friends, be they mothers of their own children, nephews, nieces, 'adopted' neighbourhood children, fur kids, grandmothers acting as mothers whilst their daughters go out to work, fathers who act as mothers because their children for one reason or another do not have mothers when the sweetest of scents surrounded me. I know the aroma does not come from anything that's growing outside my kitchen window. The scent has lingered and continues to do so. Yellow roses were Daddy's favourite flower and not an anniversary or birthday passed without him having them delivered to Mummy. I suddenly feel very, very safe. Happy Mother's Day!

Change!

In a bid to rid my blog page  of all the glitches which include whizzing all over the place, scrolling up and down without help, turning English into Romanian and vice versa, now translating English into Portugese and all the other gremlins who have decided to cross my page in the last few months, I have taken a stand. 

Instead of erasing my blog totally, I have changed the background, the colours and removed some things in the side bar.  I'm not sure I like it very much -if at all but there had to be a major

if I was to continue!!

Greenery

Magpie167

                        Young Woman Picking the Fruit of  Knowledge, 1892 by Mary Cassatt





She is distracted
Removed from reality
Pushing her way
Through
Imagined branches
That hinder her progress

Thoughts don`t come
Brain  cannot retain
The enormity of
Living
In a world
Where foliage can scratch







Barbara M Lake
Trinidad WI
May 2013

A Wonderful Discovery

I am so excited.  I have just discovered Othello Bach.

I was looking for books to download onto my  Kindle HD and I found Cry into the Wind by Othello Bach.  The cover caught my eye and I thought it might be a "good read".

The burning news is that I have not been able to stop reading.

Although I am only half way through, I can tell you it's raw, frightening and not for anyone who shrinks at the abuse that adults dish out to children,

If you don't already know of this woman, after a traumatic start in life she overcame all the odds and went on to become a writer of children's books, a song writer and motivational speaker.

If you can bear the pain and the tears, read it.

From her website:  http://www.othellobach.com/memoir.php

Recent reviews from Amazon.com regarding Othello's memoir, 

Cry Into the Wind:
My parents told me stories about how their families struggled during the Depression, but they led charmed lives compared to Othello Bach's. "Cry Into the Wind" gripped me from the first chapter and held me mesmerized until the end. It is inconceivable to me how anyone could experience all the horrifying things that Ms. Bach did and survive emotionally intact. But not only did she survive, she became a brilliant writer and gifted teacher with an amazing capacity for forgiveness and love. Ms. Bach's story is a powerful example of the human spirit at its finest." - Sheilah Bower

and

Othello Bach has written one of the most heart-rending memoirs in existence. Home for her and her six siblings was the back of a truck, a trench in the field, or if they were lucky - a shack with no running water or electricity. For much of the time the family is without shoes, heat or food. Food, if there was any, was on most occasions "greens and vinegar." Othello's mother loves her children dearly, but Dad is an alcoholic who comes and goes like the wind. When Othello brought a school friend home for lunch, she was so appalled by the disgusting greens and patchwork newspapers covering the walls, she ran from the shack never to speak to Othello again. It was not uncommon for Othello and her family to be referred to by others as "white trash." What Othello really wanted in life was something to eat other than greens, a pair of shiny black shoes and a rubber doll. Her mother told her she might as well, "cry into the wind" because the possibility of getting any of those was next to none - hence the name of the book. When Othello's mother dies as a result of burns from a fire, the situation takes a turn for the worse, if that is possible. The book makes one take a look at their own surroundings and count their blessings, no matter how great or humble the conditions may be. "Cry into the Wind" is comparable to other books like "Angela's Ashes" by Frank McCourt, "Change Me into Zeus's Daughter" by Barbara Robinette Moss and "The Glass Castle" by Jeannette Walls - all of which are a testimony to the strength of the human spirit. Just make sure you have some tissues handy because all of these books are about survival in a world that has not been kind, compassionate or fair. "Cry into the Wind" is no exception. Othello's strength is an inspiration to anyone who has survived insurmountable odds."  - Sandra D. Peters