“What chama call it?!”

beer and barrelMy late grandmother (My mother’s mother) loved herself some beer preferably Miller High Life before she graduated on to Budweiser. She drank beer all the way up until the time that she passed away and here is an excerpt from my book that was written back in 1998 and then published in 2001 in a chapter about an incident involving my grandmother:

“Ass” was Charlene’s favorite word. Everybody was an ass as far as she was concerned. Her second cousin Francine came from the Bronx to visit one spring. She brought her nephew Mack along. Even though Charlene had known Francine all her life she was just now meeting Mack.

While Penny accompanied her mother’s cousin to the store Charlene was scheming.

“Hey, come get this for me”.

“Get what?” Mack asked.

“My can of beer”, she pointed toward the dining room. “Hurry up before they come back”.

Mack left the living room puzzled. He wasn’t aware of Charlene’s plot. Because of her illness she wasn’t allowed to drink alcoholic beverages. Their effects could result in another stroke. Regardless of the risk Charlene continued drinking. If someone came to the house she wanted them to buy her a beer. Many found this annoying.

A few friends of Penny’s complained, “Every time I come here she asks for a beer!” If Charlene couldn’t get it from a visitor Terri would go buy one.

beerOn this particular day, a can of Miller High Life was hidden somewhere in the dining room. She often did this hoping Penny wouldn’t catch her.

“Where is it?” Mack asked.

“It’s under the What chama cal it!” Due to frequent memory loss Charlene was at times unable to express words, often uttering “What chama cal it”.

Mack was even more puzzled and asked, “What’s that?”

Charlene pointed again and said, “Under the What chama cal it!”

Mack’s bewilderment was obvious by his facial expression. He went over to where she was pointing and knelt down.

Charlene sighed, expressing impatience. Hearing the sound of her breath expelling, Mack knew it was a sure sign of disappointment.

Rudely Charlene exclaimed, “It’s over there asshole!”


Love Letter

canine readOur precious little babies, our furry little friends and our delightful little canine companion of creatures they can do everything but talk within our own human verbal language they are so darn smart.

They’d love to talk and speak out our words if they actually could I’ve had a real live dream within my sleep years ago in which my deceased dog spoke to me as she had uttered to me my name. “Toya” she had said, her voice was so cute and sweet yes it was such a treat to hear.

She remembered how everyone around within our home and even within our neighborhood had never called me by my full name (LaToya) but by my popular nicknames (Toy or Toya).

enjoying natureThe sparkle in their eye sometimes makes me want to cry as they are extremely loving and sincere that those of us who are literally worthy prove to come quite rare.

I think about my little pooch all of the time our spiritual connection that never lacks of any affection and our special bond that continues to go beyond.

As I soar she proceeds to roar, and as she sends me all of her love I constantly thank what is surrounded by us from above.


Baby At Peace:(https://ladylatoya.wordpress.com/2015/11/29/baby-at-peace/)

Brandie The Best Li’l Human Dog Ever:(https://misslatoya.wordpress.com/2007/08/25/my-lil-brandie-the-best-human-dog-i-ever-had/)

Our Canine Companions:(https://misslatoya.wordpress.com/2013/03/13/our-canine-companions/)