Thank you, Texas

Recently I had a chance to travel to Fort Worth, Texas for a conference with my job. I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t want to go because this is such a busy time of the year for me. Boy, am I glad I did!

The Southwest National Service Conference turned out to be the best work-related conference I’ve ever attended. And I’ve attended a conference or two or ten. I learned so much, met so many and left so invigorated to continue the charge of service. The food on the other hand…woah, Nelly! As if a conference so impactful could be rivaled…Texas knows how to do a woman right. It was just dandy, y’all!

I won’t type too much today as I’m busy doing nothing (and enjoying it), but I will let the pictures of my Southwestern themed lunch of roasted corn and peppers, mexican rice, fresh mixed greens salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, chicken fajitas, refried beans and key lime cheesecake from the Sheraton Fort Worth, and my Sweet Pea Guacamole and chips, Steak and Stout Pot Pie chocked full of tender beef, mushrooms, peas and carrots in a crust so buttery and tender the Pillsbury Dough Boy would have been jealous, Pig and Fig Pork Belly with Texas Field Pea Mash, Blue Cheese and a Fig barbecue sauce, and (Nueske Bacon) Bacon Lollipops with a Maple Hollandaise and Funnel Cake from Bird Café speak words that my still salivating mouth would not do verbal justice. Set along the aesthetic backdrop of a historic Downtown Forth Worth landmark, the Bird Cafe’s expansive and not expensive menu coupled with delightful service only paled in comparison to the quaint, and quirky history-rich building in which it was housed. Even the distilled water had a flavor of, shall we say, down home goodness to it. I think I drank about seven glasses of it. To eat such a satisfying meal in such an amazing atmosphere was the perfect way to end my trip. The entire experience was one in which I desire to repeat over and over and over again. It was that good!

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Thank you, Texas!


To Tell the Truth

I was talking to an acquaintance about a concern regarding a not-to-be named shared acquaintance. And yes, I was talking, not gossiping. (I hope.) Anywho, I was expressing some varied thoughts of mine and others, hoping to gain some insight on how to best move forward when the person on the receiving end of my conversation posed a question. It was deep. It was soul-stirring. It was scary. These words were uttered…”Have you thought about sharing your concerns actually with (not-to-be named shared acquaintance)?”

The truth of the matter is that I had not thought of sharing the concerns. Shocking, I know. I’d thought that I would just grin and bear it, whisper a little prayer hoping things would get better and chug along business as usual. But why? Why was I afraid (there I said it) to tell the truth knowing that my concerns were from a place of pure and sincere intentions? Why wasn’t I certain of the depth of our association being enough to sustain even a tough conversation? Why was I willing to just grin and bear it before trying to grin and share it?


Wouldn’t I want to know if my slip was showing or my teeth were dirty, my associations were bad or my actions dangerous? Wouldn’t I need to know if I talked too much, not enough, at the wrong times or to the wrong people? Wouldn’t I want to know if someone knew something I needed to know? Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth in love, and allow the possibility of change or adjustments than to run… figuratively and literally? Wouldn’t the purpose of a rooted relationship of any kind be to be able to share things, even those things deemed not soon lovely? Wouldn’t it be the best thing at the end of the day to tell the truth?

So, one day soon I plan to tell the truth….after I take a few deep breaths, script out my words, rehearse them several times, call for back up, back out of it, proceed again and whisper another little prayer. Stay tuned. A post is soon to come.



This Girl’s Gotta Have It

Life Gets Better


The older I get the more I’m learning more about me. I like the fact that I’m starting to take the time to recognize, accept and even appreciate some things about me that might have always been there, but I’m only now paying attention to. Chatting with my sister, as we giggled about our “must have lists” she asked, “Do you think our list would be weird to most people.” I told her I “didn’t know.” So why don’t you take a peek and tell me what you think.

This girl’s gotta have:

  • A tube of green, medicated Chapstick and some Maybelline mascara.
  • A testimony ready to share of how God has changed your life.
  • A trendy denim jacket.
  • Snacks in my purse and at my office (preferably peanuts, oatmeal or a granola bar).
  • A pair of black flats at work.
  • A pair of flip-flops, heels and flats in my car.
  • A few…

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You COLD Busted!

One of my favorite songs from the 80’s was Oran Juice Jones’, “The Rain”. In that melodic tale of love gone astray he belted out an often falsetto-esq tune about catching his unfaithful lover “walking in the rain”. With an infectious beat and a hypnotic hook, as if the song couldn’t get any better, mid-way through it goes into an all-out hip-hop inspired bridge (as in take me to the bridge), with my favorite line being “Now close yo mouth cause you cold busted”. When I tell you the middle school me loved that part! I loved that part, and suppose as indicated by the fact that I’m incorporating it into a blog post today, at 43-year-old the same must be true.


So what does Mr. Juice Jones have to do with my life? Glad you ask. I’m headed in a different direction with this one so hold on tight.

Yesterday, after leaving work and before going back to work I decided to ride by a place representing something for which I was believing God. I’d only seen it online and wanted an up-close, “I have to see it for myself” view just to, well, see it for myself. After surveying what needed to be surveyed I began to head back to my destination of home before returning to work. I was focused on studying the environment I was in, when out of my peripheral view I noticed a car that looked like one of which I was very familiar. I reduced my speed to examine the cautiously moving black Mercedes with tinted windows. I slowed to an almost turtle’s pace. The driver of the other vehicle didn’t see me as they too tended to surveying what needed to be surveyed. And boy, there was some surveying going on. I used power from my right “lymphadema” wrist I didn’t know I had and laid on the horn, probably startling the driver as I now recall. Like a scene from a gansta-style, B-movie, we met window to window, pressed our buttons to roll down those said windows, stared and glared in disbelief then both broke out into a laugh that lasted so long I can’t recall when it actually stopped. And as if it were made just for me, the words from Mr. Juice Jones came to mind and out of my mouth as I said to the driver, “You cold busted!”

Who was this mysterious person? Glad you asked. It was my Mama, doing what caring, loving, supportive humans do. In the middle of the day with dilated eyes and glasses that would have made Ray Charles look even more fly, she was coming by to “see it for herself”, and pray (even though she didn’t tell me that’s what she was doing). I shared this funny story with my sister who quickly informed me that she had already been by the day before. Wow! Now that’s what I call love, and faith. My Pastor Chris Hodges preached a message on this past Sunday from Church of the Highlands called Better Together. He talked of the importance of not doing life alone and having others in your corner in times of good and bad. That’s what that 2pm Pelham, Alabama exchange with my mother was for me. She didn’t have to be there, and I wouldn’t have known that she was there joining me in this prayer had I not been there to see it for myself. She could have been home, shopping, napping, running errands or doing any other thing a 68-year-old retiree does, but instead she was exercising her faith and joining her daughter in that same exercise to see what God has in store.

(So, I snapped a picture of her near the “Scene of the Faith”. She begged me not to tell anybody I saw here there. Of course I said I would, hence this blog post. I hope today is one of those days she’s not reading by post.)


And that, my friends, is what life is about. We all need and deserve people who are there for us whether we know it or not. I pray that everyone has those kinds of angels on earth whose faith, love, sacrifice, example, encouragement, support, prayers and kind actions toward us continually remind us of the amazingly beautiful and awesomely wonderful promises from God which are sure to come to pass…one way or another. 

May your days be filled with the best possible reasons to say #YouColdBusted


Shush Up and Trust God

Have you ever wanted to get something off of your chest so badly that the thought of launching a verbal private and/or public dissertation in defense of whatever you deemed to be wrong seemed like the right thing to do? I have. I was talking to a loved one about my pet peeves recently. Three of the top ones include feeling like my voice is not being heard, being misunderstood and misrepresented with no opportunity to shed light, and seeing others assume the worst first in others and/or me. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. When those things transpire my gut reaction is to put a rebuttal or proactive pose in action. Sometimes that way of response has proven well, and made things better. Other times, not so much.

Anywho, that’s where I am today regarding some matters that matter. Yesterday I was ready to take a cue from the Yellow Pages of old and “let my fingers do the talking” by giving someone an earful via the internet (as in email). After all. I’m a writer, not a fighter. I’m not the one to do anything damaging or defensive physically, but I have been known to use my voice and my pen (or laptop) to state my case. My words speak for themselves. And again, sometimes that way of response has proven well, and made things better. Other times, and often times, not so much.


Feeling anger from an interaction with someone I know, I was mid-way into the third tennis-matchesq exchange via email about some pertinent business when the loved one I mentioned a few paragraphs ago called to check on me causing me to lose the text I’d typed. Drats!!!!!! Dagnabit!!! Fiddle Darn Sticks!!!! I informed that person of what I lost while answering the phone and what I was planning to say and the response was “Let it go, Angela. Let it go.”. I heard that message loudly and clearly. What this person wanted to tell me is “shut up and trust God.” While they didn’t say that I did gather quickly that sometimes things should simply not be said. The going back and forward often incites more than it improves. The public defense can often smear a person’s name (as in the one speaking) more than it can clear it. Reminding a person of his/her responsibilities, commitments or requirements often stir up more anger than action. And the mental and emotional anguish often accompanying the “I got him or her told” syndrome simply isn’t worth it especially when the only way a person can and will really change is from God’s work within, and without our feisty or fiery words. I got it.


My youngest nieces have a huge problem with people who say “shut up”. Their quick, and sincere response is often, “Hey, don’t say that. That’s inappropriate.” So today I won’t, and usually I don’t. I’ll simply opt to say to myself “shush up and trust God.” #silence



Child Please!

Just in time for summer… my musings on fashion and the modern day woman/girl…with a hint of my “business” as an added bonus.

Life Gets Better

It’s coming! In the words of the Jackson 5, “Can you feel it? Can you feel it? Can you feel it?!?!?” Summer’s about to hit us and depending on what part of the world you call home that also means hotter temperatures, and fashions gone wild.

Let me just say that long ago in a far, far away world known as The Land of My Teens and 20’s I was a “skintight”, “bare as you dare” Diva with a capital “D”! Tube tops showing practically everything below my upper rib bone? Child Please! I did it! Super short shorts and even shorter skirts on my 5’9 body? Child Please! I did it! Mega tight can’t breathe, can’t move dresses? Child Please! I did it! Backless frocks to the lowest part of my spine that would make the sight impaired blush? Child Please! I did it! Clothes so revealing that my daddy had…

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