Fun facts about polar bear: polar bear day


So I got to hear some fun facts about polar bears recently (January to be precise) and decided to put off posting until today…which happens to be a day set aside for the beautiful carnivores.

Yes, they are beautiful even though I do not pray to come really close to any just for the purpose of verifying or validating this. Admiring them on my screens is more than enough for me. Thank you.

D1: ‘Mummy, do you ‘even’ know that Polar Bears that are pregnant do not eat?‘ (Out of the blues like most of his questions)

‘They also don’t move, drink, swim or do anything at all’

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New Year…New Day…New Beginning


This is going to be a very quick one as I am still in the process of thoughts-gathering.

I would ‘launch’ this long overdue new home of ours (yes, it belongs to you & I) by first wishing YOU a very happy 2016 even though we are already 13ish days into the year. Never too late, they say.

If we made it this far, we can only make it through and come out happier and better by His grace.

Can you please raise a loud amen? Thank you.

So I finally made the decision to leave the ‘old home’ for this new one. Just because.

I love new beginnings and this is certainly the era of one for this brand.

Things may not have worked out exactly how I envisaged they would, but I still am thankful for the mercies received. Improvement is all I see from here even if the ‘furnishings’ of the new home are not entirely shining bright / sparkling…’manage’ it with me for now, would you?

And so I welcome you to join me on this new phase of this beautiful journey.

Hugs & Blessings,


The Gloomy Sky that Spoke..

I’m writing this at my break time at work amidst my cluttered desk.

Sometimes, it appears as if a tornado just ravaged my work desk with the loads of unattended requests, transactions, quotes, Orders, Cards scattered all over, etc. I rather think it has less to do with having too much to do and more to do with organization, anyway.

I know. You know.

Maybe my luck is running high and you would even like to drop by one of these days so I can give you a ‘tour’ of the place I call home for now.

That tour would not take more than 5 seconds considering that the palatial edifice I am talking about is more like a ‘macro studio’ with its own fair share of space…

Humor me, will you?
Thank you. (*wink*)

You are however guaranteed to see more within those short 5 seconds than you would think or imagine such a ‘small’ space could hold.

Clothes on the pressing board, ‘truck-load’ of laundry inside the red laundry basket nestling in a corner at the far end of the passage, 3-day washed clothes waiting to be freed from the washing machine, hair brushes here and there, a shoe here and there, ‘that’ black belt waiting for the next tender-hearted human to pick it up, pencils, story books, note books, crayons, and even much more.

You’re not scared much, yet, are you?

Don’t worry, you won’t trip and you won’t get your dainty foot on any mushy, slimy stuff…we’ve got it perfectly under control as the ‘spirit’ has been leading. Yeeeesss.

Maybe that’s also your truth as much as it’s mine. If it is, then we may as well be kindred spirits and on the flip side…I’m owning my truth. I love it regardless.

Maybe I’ve got too much to handle (like you), today. Everyday.

But tell you what? The state of my desk and home absolutely matches the state of my heart. Very much so, lately.

Myriads of thoughts constantly running amock, littering the floor of the mind…what to make for breakfast tomorrow or dinner tonight, how to keep my lil men entertained, how to constantly ‘bend’ them into shape, D1’s weight or lack of, D2’s stuttering, the many outstanding tasks, phone call ‘debts’, the business, the career, the future, the looming recession and it’s unavoidable effects, skyrocketing bills, all those unlatched ‘containers’ on the rickety trucks always falling on innocent motorists, alarming robbery incidences, my friends needing and deserving ‘fruits of the womb’, little Ire, some doses of heaviness, cobwebs of dark stark grief…and the list goes on.

It’s crazy.

But I have a familiar escape…which is to (almost always) pick and go through my phone to indulge in a favorite pastime of mine…going through pictures taken by me and smiling to myself as I reminisce. In the gallery is the picture above taken somewhere at Grasmere during the last holiday.

It is an ‘ordinary’ picture of an ‘ordinary’ sky that could have been taken anywhere in the world but it spoke to me all the same.

My back on the heavy hammock, Tab poised to capture the sky at the Park.

I agree that this particular picture doesn’t cut it where good / quality pictures are being rated, it was and still is not the best of (my) pictures but I liked it all the same. Just because. It’s 100% mine.

It is a bit gloomy…dark clouds shielding the warm rays of the sun on a cold but (slightly) warm summer morning. Contradictory ba?

But it was only a matter of time before the sun escaped…bursting radiantly forth, bathing everyone it smiles upon with its warm glow.

The picture spoke to me loud and clear.

It reminded me of a very important fact I constantly overlook in all the hustling and bustling and thinking and doing that marks each day.

It told me that if I care to look up (again), I might just catch a glimpse of the sun striving to come forth from behind the clouds… of doubt, fear, sorrow, inadequacies, insecurities, instability, lack, etc.

It told me again that b’ekun pe di ale kan…ayo nbo ni owuro….(if weeping endures for a night, joy comes in the aftermath)

It spoke of hope…and of sunshine coming after the rain, sometimes.

It told me to let you know that whenever those ‘clouds’ you know so well loom large, the key is in looking up. To Him who is able to give the sun the strength required to break free from the dark clouds ensnaring it…He’ll allow the sun shine again and melt away all those thoughts and fears.

The sun will shine bright again. On me. On you. If we just look up and allow the sky to speak to us.

Have a very bright week.

Happy New November

For YOU,

May the heavens smile sweetly,
May the sun shine brightly,
May the fields bring forth abundance,
May every challenge poised to break your stride be overcome,
May terror be far from you,
May oppression be far removed,

May November be truly happy.


So I was gone for 4 months and here I am, saying a quick hello…again. It is absolutely in order, I believe.

A lot has happened in the last four months which I would still share here.

But for now, this is hello…from me *in Adele’s voice*…

…and I’m still busy clearing the cobwebs, pulling dust covers and dunking a couple of tea bags in my newly cleaned china cup…care to join me?

Talking about hellos and Adele, her ‘come-back’ is definitely Adeleish and has got the web buzzing since the Single’s release.

If you are a fan of love-lorn ballads, eighties-style technology (phone booths, flip phones, black and whitish scenery) and of course if you also love Adele and her amazing voice, then this might just make your day.

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A Place of Refuge…A Place of Horror


Desecration in the holy places. Horror of horrors.

A long moment of silence followed as I tried to digest the latest tragedy in far away Charleston, South Carolina.

I know, the horrors we battle daily in our land is more than enough to keep anyone occupied for one zillion lifetimes.

Nonetheless, nothing could detract from the jitters, afresh that washes down one’s spine on hearing and reading of such atrocities.

A place of worship is to many a place of refuge. Of hope. Of refreshing. Of awakening. Of peace. Of cleansing. And so much more.

How then did a place of worship become a place of easy target for supremacists?

I use the word ‘supremacist’ loosely because anybody that feels threatened by another enough to want to get them out of the way is definitely suffering from something more than ‘supremacy’.

The ailment plaguing such is more like a mixture of hate (self and others), racism and psychologically induced inferiority.

An ailment that could have been spotted early on.

If the foundation is destroyed…

A home is meant to be a place of warmth. Of nurturing. Of rest. Of love. Of bonding. Of refuge.
How are the homes today turning into places where little monsters and horrific plots are birthed?

On Wednesday, a young man -Dylann Storm Roof joined a bible study session inside the historic Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina and reportedly shot nine people dead after sitting with them for over one hour studying the bible together.

What was on his mind as Rev. Clementa Pinckney and the other members warmly welcomed him into the gathering?
What was he thinking as he sat close to the man and gazed into the eyes of the other members of the group whom he would come to mercilessly gun down several minutes later?

Victims: Nine people died in the shooting. They are (top row, left to right) DePayne Middleton-Doctor, Tywanza Sanders, Myrah Thompson, (center row) Ethel Lance, Susie Jackson, Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, (bottom row) Daniel Simmons, Clementa Pinckney and Cynthia Hurd
Victims of a warped society…RIP, people.

He reportedly admitted that he did not want to go through with the ‘plan’ because they were all nice to him and I wish he had allowed that tiny good voice to prevail.

I find it particularly disturbing that the horror was unleashed with a gun, gifted him by his parent(s) on his 21st birthday.

A question that has been scorching and searing my mind and which I am not likely to get an answer to is why any loving parent would present their son with a gun -not a toy one  but a real .45 caliber handgun for his birthday.

I admit, getting a 21 year old a gun is as brow-raising as spoiling a ‘baby’ girl with replicated custom-built expensive sport cars a la Range Rover and Lamborghinis.

Both instances and reasoning are questionable but what do I know?

What are we churning out? What are we raising?

If the objective is to raise marksmen, sharp-shooters, killers and self-obsessed materialistic narcissists, then all is good.

I digress.

I looked at all the pictures of Dylan I saw on on the web, different pictures spanning different periods and what stares back at me tells a different story.

Burning flags, posing with guns and flags, etc
Sad, expressive eyes.
Deep melancholic expressions that screams of a dark hideout within the deepest part of his twisted soul.


If I were Dylann’s mum, I would definitely be worried. Severely worried. Moreso that he was reportedly introverted for a long time.

Something was not right there. And it took nine lovely people to be gruesomely sent untimely to their graves to discover that fact.

The world has gone completely bonkers. The society is warped. And it starts from the home unit.

I believe Dylan was not born with hatred in his heart. Nobody was. Nobody is.

Nobody came to the world hating or loving anyone, the major and only concern on getting out of the birth tunnel is survival…getting in some much needed gulps of worldy air to get going.

We all learn these ‘vital’ life skills and whatever is good / bad enough to be learnt could very well be unlearnt.

No day old baby understands the difference in skin colors until they begin to develop enough to visualize and verbalize happenings around them by which time the immediate society -the family may have chosen to delete the factory settings and re-write the psychology program.

Programs are written and re-written as circumstances demand. Systems are formatted, re-installed, re-set, etc but nothing beats getting it right from the get go.

Today, we ignorantly create the imaginary supremacy divides that grows to gargantuan devastating proportions and wreaks catastrophic havoc.

If the foundation be destroyed…

It’s so sad what the world has turned into and my heart goes out to all those beautiful people’s families and everyone else suffering from the aftermaths of hate campaigns today.


How about we go back to restore the default factory settings and prevent future ‘Dylannic’ tragedies?

How about we start preaching the message of love right from the home?

How about we drum the equality message right from babyhood and stick by it?

How about we closely monitor our children / wards, become their best friends and get into their minds while they are still very young?

How about we really create time to train them in the way they should go that would make for a peaceful nation / world and co-existence?

How about we devote our all to this cause in order to prevent our places of refuge -the home and church from turning into places where horror is birthed and unleashed?

How many more heartache and tragedies would the world endure before we understand that none is supreme and we all have the same red blood flowing underneath the white and black skins?

Hello June…

This new season,
May each day be full of sunshiny blessings,
May glad tidings resound all through for you,
May peace encompass you round about,
May your barn never dry up,
May you be established home and abroad, 
May favor be your story,
May unprecedented success be your testimony,
May terror and oppression be far removed from you.
Happy new June, beautiful friends.