"Who is she? She's not from around here." She is me, Khawaga Kid and I'm writing a memoir called Khawaga Kid. Moving around all over the world since the age of four, I've had many hometowns that I love, yet none of them really claim me, always moving, becoming a foreigner even in my own family.
Currently editing my memoir called Khawaga Kid. My first flight was age four. I fell in love with travel. I often heard people ask "Who is she? She's not from around here." Always a foreigner...even in my own family. Khawaga means foreigner in Egyptian Arabic.
Perpetrators of coercive control are domestic violence abusers who resort to illegal acts in order to further abuse their victim.
Coercive Control is all about power for the perpetrator. They will use emotional, mental, financial, verbal, and physical abuse. Criminalizing coercive control in the most egregious deadbeat parent cases is necessary because these perps enjoy wreaking havoc. They will destroy lives without mercy.
Coercive control is a callous and calculated pattern of behavior by the perpetrator. Criminal acts perpetrated by someone with malicious intent on innocent victims should be held accountable for their actions in Court.
Home remodelling and redesign are likely to be something of a trend in 2021, with the pandemic impacting other areas of personal spending. Going on holiday may be impossible for much of the year, whilst gigs, clubs and eating out are all currently restricted. Whilst some people may be feeling a financial pinch, there will […]
My only rule is don’t be bland. I love the spice of life! Some days I feel cool like a vanilla bean in ice cream. Other days I am comforting like pot roast and potatoes with carrots, onions, garlic and bay leaves. In every recipe of days, I don’t divulge all my secrets. Every creator worth her salt keeps secrets.
I have days when I feel like a delicious pot of gumbo; a layered goodness that begins with a simple roux…just flour and oil mixed to the perfect consistency, stirred patiently over a steady heat until the moment is right. (You know to add the stock of your choice with the color of the paste and at the first whiff of burnt peanuts.) Trial and error is the way you learn to make your roux. Next the Holy Trinity of Cajun cooking gets thrown in the pot…onions, celery and bell pepper, chopped to your personal preference. Add freshly diced tomatoes, (or canned) and fresh sliced okra, (or frozen). I always boil a whole chicken for my stock, then take meat from the bone and add to pot. This is good, but adding deveined shrimp, whole crab, or lump crab meat, crawfish, redfish…any combination that appeals to you. A sausage gumbo is good if you use a good link sausage. In my neck of the woods, that’s Conecuh link sausage. Experiment with this as all cooks do and yes, I have secret ingredients I add too. It takes time to cook this and serve it over rice. Yep. I feel like a gumbo some days, complicated and time consuming, but delicious and worth the effort.
Seasoning my life…expanded by many cultural cuisines learned by traveling the world as a third culture kid. I can be anything but bland. Never. Ever. Bland
This Herby Yogurt Bowl is the second recipe in our Lunch Therapy series. It’s creamy and crunchy, warm and cold, spicy and fresh. And yet it comes together in no more than 15 minutes. Yogurt Bowl with Harissa Chickpeas & Persimmon Salad
Our Mama/Momma at the age of 15. Thibodaux, LA. 1960. So beautiful. 🥰
I call her Mama. My sister called her Momma. This young lady’s picture tugs at my heartstrings because I know her future.
Momma Hen with shadow. 1984–her youngest daughter (my sister) at graduation in June 1984.
July 15, 1984. Her “Baby Doll” suffered traumatic brain injury. July 17, 1995. Momma’s chick died in her sleep at home. Home. The cozy nest made for her comatose child. Home. Where both were housebound because this Momma Hen cared for her child around the clock with minimal assistance.
My Mama Hen is 75 now. She is thankful that her prayer was answered and her baby died at home. I can’t imagine how she felt when she woke and went to check my sister.
Mama Hen feels like she hasn’t accomplished much in her life. I tell her I will always honor her for her dedication and devotion to my sister’s health and welfare; Momma Hen. I will share more stories about having this beautiful young lady as our Mama/Momma.
How well did she care for my sister? Eleven years and two days without bedsores. Physical therapy. Cognitive therapy. My sister could hear. Momma Hen and her chick are the inspiration for Three Blinks. Momma Hen taught her injured chick to communicate. One blink for no, two blinks for yes.
So, one day Momma Hen notices her chick is blinking three times. It’s not random, it’s deliberate. She says, “Baby, are you trying to tell me something?” My sister blinks twice for yes. Momma Hen says, “Give Momma some time to think about what you’re saying.” Later that day it comes to her. “Baby, are you telling your Momma ‘I love you?'” My sister blinks twice. “Yes.” I say that’s superb accomplishment for a Momma Hen and her brain damaged Baby.