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Month: July, 2016

Racist Hatred Comes Out Against Mothers of the Movement

Racism has no place in our hearts and minds, please read the original and show support for those who died too young at the hands of gunmen.

We Hold These Truths To Be Self-Evident

At the Democratic National Convention held July 26, 2016, nine mothers appeared on the stage.  Those nine were:

Sybrina Fulton, mother of 17-year-old Trayvon Martin;

Gwen Carr, mother of 42-year-old Eric Garner;

Lezley McSpadden, mother of 18-year old Mike Brown;

Lucia McBath, mother of 17-year-old Jordan Davis;

Wanda Johnson, mother of 22-year old Oscar Grant;

Cleopatra Pendleton-Cowley, mother of 15-year old Hadiya Pendleton;

Annette Nance-Holt, mother of 16-year old Blair Holt;

Maria Hamilton, mother of 31-year old Dontré Hamilton.

Geneva Reed-Veal, the mother of 28-year old Sandra Bland

The nine mothers named above represent Mothers of the Movement because their children’s names helped energize the Black Lives Matter Movement and Black Lives Matter network.  Their goal is aimed at enacting better gun control measures, repeal laws that might shield vigilantes from prosecution, and increase transparency and accountability for officers who kill…

View original post 470 more words

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Very Easy Strawberry Coconut Cake.

This sounds amazing. As always comments should be left against the original post and not just here on the reblog.

Passion cook

FullSizeRender (61)

Too easy, actually. It is when i want something for dessert, but don’t feel like cooking too much.

I don’t understand the meaning “from scratch” as i don’t cook otherwise.

You can use any fruits at all for this recipe, i am using strawberries.

Cake is is absolutely delicious, with strawberries melting inside your mouth and mild coconut flavor.

Ingredients:

Eggs-2

Brown Sugar(Cane)- 1 cup

Flour- 1,5 cups

Baking powder- 1 teaspoon

Olive oil- 1 cup

Vanilla sugar- 1 teaspoon

Pinch of salt

Strawberries- 400 g chopped in quarters.

Desiccated coconut- 2 table spoons.

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 180C.

Line baking tray with parchment paper.

Mix all ingredients and bake for an hour (in my oven) at 180C., then reduce it to 150C and cook for another 30 minuets. Check with a skewer in the middle, as ovens are different.

Let it cool in a baking tray for 15…

View original post 11 more words

Tale Weaver #75 (Continuation)

Josephine was still grieving but had now arrived at the memories stage. She knew she had spent the best years of her life doing her best to teach future generations how to escape the chains of ignorance and fear. She knew she had succeeded with some, those in the public glare.

Even in her darkest moments when she felt unable to reach a class, someone would say something to touch her deeply. Then when she went home she had her lover there to share her story with. How she missed the companionship, hugs and kisses too truth be told, of another like minded soul. These days she was alone no-one visited, she had nothing to say anyway.

This was the time, Jo knew, when her thoughts were focussed on the past, for her to move, go out and walk anywhere. When this time and mood came she would wander the streets, sometimes for hours, just thinking about how great her city is. Today, oh today, the pain was intense and she knew she wouldn’t get far. She put on her coat and hat closed the door behind her and walked off into the darkness before dawn arrived.

Thinking she would just go around the block today she never heard the car approach, tyres squealing as it took the corner too fast. The driver struggling to regain control never noticed the old lady walking away from him as the car mounted the sidewalk and ploughed straight into her. Poor Jo never knew what happened, the car hit her in such a way that her neck broke and death was instant. This gave her freedom from her pain and a chance to meet up with her lover of almost 50 years, with no-one to mourn her passing she was just another Jane Doe. A death on the road statistic, hit by a young man who lost control of his powerful car and turned it into a deadly weapon.

Tale Weaver #75

I accepted the challenge to write a story for Grandparents so here goes nothing:

“Josephine was thinking about how it used to be when she was growing up, having her grandmother read her stories before bedtime when she stayed round there. Her parents always seemed to be too busy to read to her at night so she loved spending time with her grandparents. Both sets seemed to have lots of time to do fun things with her. Being the only grandchild she used to get spoilt rotten by her mother’s parents. Her father on the other hand was one of 4 and all his siblings had older children than she was, but this meant there was always someone else around at this grandparents home.

Her parents had loved her that was never in doubt and they always made time for her to play and nurture her abilities. When she left school she went to university and was the first in both families to do this and become a teacher. She had never noticed before that even though she went out with boys and men from college she was never really attracted to them physically until she met Andrea.

They were both at the same college but Andrea was a year behind Josephine, this never posed any problems for them as everyone was pleased to see them together, holding hands, kissing and enjoying each others company. They were so much in love that everyone around them couldn’t help but notice and be happy for them. Josephine was thinking about their 50 years together, the last 6 as wife and wife. She still remembered the good times more than the sad, after all Andrea had only been diagnosed with terminal cancer in the brain two days before she died.

Did she regret that they had never adopted? Not really as they had both taught and had been around children most of their adult lives. To begin with the authorities wouldn’t have allowed two women to adopt but when times and attitudes had changed they had become settled together and no longer thought about bringing anyone new into their relationship. Now that she was alone with her memories, and they were good ones, she wondered if she should have maybe tried to foster if not adopt. She still had a lot of love to give but who would want an oldie of 75?

…To be continued (maybe).