If I deuces so myself

Our (WC) water closet has been leaking. Leaking enough to warrant replacement. But we are not in a hurry. We are not interested in  sit down toilets any more.

The word is hemorrhoids. Hemorrhoids is the devil,

We were in the living room, talking about poop for hours. Akashi, our good friend, who is bunking with us for a minute, and her girlfriend Kai are preparing to go to Jamaica in a few weeks, where they will enjoy the natural pleasures of pooping in the great outdoors, forget outhouses! They will be in the bunduz somewhere in Portland.

Akashi was telling us about how she not only squats, but pops legs back and forth in eccentric yoga-like postures, during transmission. Bomboclat! She is a big girl too.

Apparently, egestion occurs most efficiently when we are either standing up, or squatting, but not bent over on a ceramic throne, the civilized way. In fact, sitting down has been shown to be a

significant cause and exacerbating factor for pre-existing hemorrhoids,  since it forces the body to strain tremendously to discharge bowel movements.

Repeat, Hemorrhoids is the devil.
Again.

"It comes out like a long snake!" Akashi celebrated. We celebrated. And then shared the lewdest poopy anecdotes we had.

I learned from watching Dr. Oz, that there are actual poop charts on what's healthy and what isn't.  That how your poop SOUNDS, looks and of course smells,  will tell you a lot about how your body is doing.


We are all about health and wellness up in here!


Mr. Man has resolved to PLD- Pop Lock n Drop in the basement, where he can not only squat, but compost it.

This is not novel in Detroit. It is not novel among communities of young folk who are into this off-the-grid living business. Like us.

I know at least 4 other folks in our friends circle who are actively composting their poop. It takes much longer for the compost to be viable for use on the land, but it makes pretty good compost, when it is done, so why not?!

I am not ready for that though.

I will squat, no problem.

Once we replace this here ceramic throne with a squatting pan, and a nice spigot to wash things off.
No more WC. No more toilet paper expenses and no more hemorrhoids

So far it seems we will have to call Larry Doo-wop  up the street, tear this muther apart ourselves and DIY with some cheap home depot supplies, broken tiles and grout.

All we need is a hole in the floor. Gravity will do the rest.

If I deuces so myself.

Ginger and lime tea

You would think a woman who underwent natural, non-medicated labor would be completely opposed to the use of painkillers for, such a flimsy thing as menstrual cramps!

I have been taking ibuprofen for relief, albeit reluctantly, but today I just brewed a hot tea of freshly juiced ginger and a squeeze of lime.

I cant remember which is more painful, labor or cramps.

I know that with the labor, i knew that I could send any medication straight into my baby's bloodstream and I was not down for that. Also, the kind of interventions that often begin with epidurals were unconscionable to me ( new buzz word). Very many labors that involve epidurals end up in C-sections. C-sections are more expensive than vaginal deliveries,  harder to recover from, and complicate future child birth processes.

Ginger and Lime tea. Sip.

10am and baby still sleeping! What!

I sneaked out of bed, about an hour ago, and she twisted and turned, as i crept along the floor, heart in throat. I am so surprised. This never happens. Almost makes me wonder if she is still alive.

Give thanks though.

I have had a moment to myself. Lorenzo has gone to work. Akashi and Kai are still sleeping upstairs. The house is in a mess. Dishes pon the sink. Breakfast to make. But I aint doing non' for nobody but myself for a minute.

It is nice to do this: type away in an endless stream of consciousness.

Often times I don't feel like I am in America.

America is New York. My America. That's what it's supposed to be, anyway.

Que Empire State of Mind- Keys and Jay

I live in a working class neighborhood in Detroit.
Everything is regular here.
So regular that I might as well imagine myself somewhere in Nairobi.

Poverty.
Poor Transport.
Neighborhood drama galore!

Did I mention how  a neighbor pulled out a gun on Lorenzo? Caused a huge scene early one Sunday morning, because my husband's parents' dog got loose , ran over to Jason's house, and apparently bit him.
Apparently is the key word.
 I had heard loud bickering, and thought a neighbor was putting his wife out only to step out of our door and in the view of other neighbors, see what I later learned was Lorenzo, being yelled at by Ms. Jocelyn's mid 30 somethin' year old son, with a gun pointed at him.

Gawwd Dayam!

Detroit.

Baby up.

Today we start potty training.
No diapers on all day- African style.

Ashei.

Because we all dream.

Baby is sleeping now.
I put her to bed about an hour and a half ago, and sneaked out of the bed, after I managed to wrangle my nipple out of the bite of her mighty sharp teeth. Painful. I was so upset.

I had to put together this blog, and I took much too long setting up the ambiance. I am an ambiance junky.
I am becoming very intentional about channeling my African chakras and applying said elements into my work. If there is any truth and power in gods, I would like my African gods to be on my side.
 I beckon old and new energy, vibrancy, creativity, when I lay out these materials in my space, and frame my experiences using fabric, patterns, colors, cultures that are so important to our peoples.

Last year I thought, I need to make 2015 a travelling year. I was thinking London, Toronto, Latin America.... After I got my chance to go home, to Nairobi, to my mum.

I need to go home.
I need help with baby.

I need to breathe.
I need to rest.
I need to not worry about what we are going to eat.

I have been meaning to go home.
To take baby home to meet Sam, Carolis, Muthesh, lilly and Ken.....
Before baby is no longer baby.

I was hoping to go home last October. To stay for as long as I could, in the sun and warmth, and escape the unconscionable cold that Michigan winters bring. But I got stuck here. My immigration application process got stalled- is still stalled- because of financial challenges. I have had to re imagine my place and my work this winter.

I cant quite remember what i was doing to occupy myself last fall. Besides minding baby and the house of course. I was just shuffling around, between bedroom, kitchen and living room, cooking something, or changing diapers, or putting on Ubongo Kids for baby.

I fixed up some old sewing machines that were recovered (free.com) by my father-in-law from some Detroit basement during the great August flood last year. I started out well, making my reusable cloth menstrual pads. But I bent or broke too many needles. I got tired. I got intimidated. I could use some help.

I picked my guitar up again. After an almost 2 year sabbatical. I never played after I got pregnant. I was just too sick and sick. It was only when Crystal came over, tuned it and played it as I tidied up my crafts room that I reconsidered.

I know I started. I started to work on these things. Music, Blogging, Podcasting, video shows: all of the things I want to be doing- talking about life and issues with people.


But why am I still on this hamster wheel?

Why do my calves feel warm and wobbly?

Why am I not making any MONEY?

Why, why, why ? (insert tinga tinga tales cartoon melody)


I need to get away from here for a minute.
I need to get away from this cold.
It sucks and I stay in the house all day as a result.

I need to go out and live my dream.
To dress up nice.
To draw my eyebrows, and apply some deliciously dark liner.
To walk into a coffee shop with a sense of self-importance.

I need to change something.
I need to leap into the unknown.

I  bought tickets two nights ago. Akashi and Kai have been living with us since Christmas, and they have gotten me psyched about getting out into the world, and building the kind of workstyle that you love, off the grid.

She was sitting next to me, and I was just looking to see if i could find any $1 tickets somewhere southward,  Atlanta or Alabama or Mississippi. I thought perhaps we could look at it like baby going to her ushago. 
I ended up rerouting to Texas though, because the tickets to Alabama were way out of my league (read $30) and I could get connections to Dallas and Houston for $1 each, and then perch in New Orleans, ideally at a nice hotel by the ocean, sipping shangri-la...

The catch is that the trip takes 3 weeks!
Three of course because I chose my travel dates based on ticket prices.

Ahh.
What have I done did now?!

Tired.

It is work.
Plus it is almost 2am.

Peace till the next.