**UPDATE** Curly Chemist(ry) Does It Again With the PMP Method

**UPDATE** Welp, I now know that my hair hates coconut oil. Apparently, this is something I can use on my skin but not on my hair...

I am now looking for something else to use. I'm considering a few different oils - olive and grapeseed are the first two I will look at trying. I was going to use my babassu oil but it comes in small jars and is too pricey for pre-poo use. At this point, to recover from my experiment with coconut oil, I am going to use some of the Hydra Steam Masque I have left. I am learning that a lot of people can't use coconut oil on their hair. Live and learn, right? This natural hair thing is a journey!

 You all should know by now that one of my favorite YouTube channels is Curly Chemistry. The young lady with smarts and great hair shares good ingo & I always call her the Curly Chemist. By the way, she has a website where you can find out about her book (I need to get a copy soon), and she is on Instagram and Facebook. I pick up a lot of hair tips from her videos and she had done it again with what she calls the PMP method. Listen, she really tells you how to PMP (or pimp, get it?) your hair.

I was fascinated with the video because I had already recently switched up my own hair routine by adding some old-fashioned Blue Magic grease and learning to better use the curl creams in my pantry.

With all the curl creams I have collected for a few years now, I only just recently realized that I was using them all wrong. And there's no excuse. They are curl creams with instructions right on the labels. Most curl creams are also moisturizing, and I had been using them only as moisturizers. Instead of smoothing them through small sections of my hair to accentuate my curl pattern, I had been globbing them on and waiting for them to just magically produce curls. Dummy-dum-dum. Now, I actually use them as directed.  Imagine that. As a result, I have fallen in love with products that I had given poor reviews to.

The hair grease thing was brought to mind when I recalled my mother using it all the time when I was a kid. She used it herself and never combed, plaited, or styled my hair without some grease. 

Back when my family lived in our little West Texas hometown, a local man did hair in the basement of his house. Mr. Leon (who later went on to become quite a sought-after hairdresser all over Texas and beyond - to the point where he and his clients used limousines to pick each other up for appointments) never did my weekly hot comb press- and-curls without using hair grease. 

Seeing memes like this tells me that a lot of people have similar memories!

These days people refer to such products as "hair dress" or "conditioners" (which I think is how they were always labeled), but back in the day, Mama called it "grease", or "pressing oil". A lot of people would just refer to any hair grease by the name of whichever one they grew up with: Posner's, Blue Magic, Ultra Sheen, Royal Crown, Super Grow, or Sulfer 8. 

My mother had beautiful, healthy, shiny, glorious hair. Then again, she was a glorious woman.

That's a hot comb press n curl right there!

So, anyway, I am going to be trying to pimp my hair with the PMP method. For those of you like myself, who have to take notes about everything, here is the basic rundown as I caught it (and how I will be applying it):

• Penetrate using a pre-poo for from 30 minutes up to overnight. (Overnight for me.) I'm going to use either coconut or babassu because I always have those around already and use on my skin daily. Good stuff. (For my skin, I mix babassu with glycerin.)
• Moisturize using a water-based conditioner or leave-in. I already use a mix of water and Aussie Moist as a leave-in after washings so...
• Protect with oil (not coconut though & I can't remember why not so watch the video). I am going to use the Blue Magic I have.

Between-wash care depends on whether you have low- or high-porosity hair. I have very low-porosity hair so I will continue to use my "wet" leave-ins or water-Aussie blend (or water mixed with whatever conditioner I have around). Lately, I found a big old bottle of Lustrasilk when I had a burst of energy and cleaned under my bathroom sink. 

This stuff is amazing! That is a FULL bottle of activator and an almost full jar of curl pudding. Just been hanging out in a box under the sink for about 5 months...

Anyway, yeah, Curly Chemist has inspired me once again. Now, of course, as with anything, you have to do what is right for you and use common sense. I'm not a professional so I can only tell you what I like for my own hair routine. 

Meanwhile, I was talking with my best friend about the Blue Magic I've been using (and love!) and she said that she grew up using Murray's.  And a lot of people know about the famous Madame C.J. Walker. I'm pretty sure that some of us have folks in our circle of family and friends who used some of her products.

As for me, I have to tell you that I have fallen back in love with Blue Magic. I forgot how soft and lovely it makes the hair feel. Also, one application keeps my scalp nice and moisturized for days. When I was using some other oils and butters, I had to re-apply them almost daily. The big jar of Blue Magic is cheap (as long as you don't get it from Amazon!) and it takes literally just dabs of it to treat my entire scalp and a few more dabs to palm over my hair. On Amazon, you either have to get a 3-pack of the 12-oz for around 17-20 bucks or a single for about $9. I got mine for 5 dollars at a beauty supply and when I run low, I can go to Ebonyline (not secure until checkout!) or another online beauty supply and get it for about $6.  If I want to order a minimum of 3, I can get them from Family Dollar for under $2.50 each and have them shipped free to a local store for pick-up. So, yeah, Amazon can go away on this one.

The ingredients in Blue Magic (and I got the "original" anti-breakage formula) are shown on Amazon like this:

• Petrolatum
• Lanolin
• Lecithin
• Mineral Oil
• Fragrance
• Green 6
• Violet 2

This is the label on the jar I have:

Not much different

I also remember one of my aunties using the green-colored Blue Magic. ~shrug~

Anyway, I am going to give the PMP method a try. It's not much different from my regular routine except for the pre-poo with oil. That is... lots different. We'll see how it goes...

Peace

--Free

GRIOT: The Family Griot

When my sister died, she took with her a lot of our oral family history. My mother used to talk to us all the time about her life as a young woman back in Texas. I didn't appreciate her stories until I got older and there are so many times I wished I had tape-recorded her telling them. Being ten years older than me, my sister knew and remembered more of the people and things my mother talked about. Now, there are only a few members of the extended family who have this knowledge. But I do remember some things.

Can't remember where I found the image a while back

Some of my favorite stories are of the times my mother and her cousins would have "play church". There were a lot of cousins to make up the congregation, but it was Vera Lee who usually played the part of the pastor. She could stomp, preach, and hold her ear and yowl like the best of the Southern 'negro' preachers.

One time during one of these 'church' services, the cousins decided to hold a funeral. They also decided that the funeral needed a body. Cousin Bunky was the snitch of the group and she had recently gotten some of the other kids in trouble with her tattling. And that is how Vera Lee decided that Bunky should be the body. Bunky had forgotten all about the recent whoopings she had caused for the other kids so she was fine with playing the corpse at the funeral. Until the other kids got to the part where they actually tried burying her.

There were so many of these stories from my mother. I'm glad that I have old notebooks and blog posts with some of the tales recorded. I thought that I would share (or re-share) some of them here. So, every now and then, I will do those post filed under "Griot" and hope that other people will be encouraged to enjoy their own family histories.

Peace
--Free

Cookbooks and Memories

It is said that smells trigger memories. I believe that. I can smell a fresh-baked cinnamon roll and I instantly transport back to primary school days. We were staying temporarily near family in Arkansas while Daddy was overseas. One of my aunties worked in the school cafeteria and (this is back when they served a great breakfast in schools) she made sure that I always got a cinnamon roll and the chocolate milk.

Certain sights can also send me back into my vault of memories. This can sometimes work in a strange way. If I see an elderly woman posturing in a particular way - holding her purse just so, or fanning her face with a piece of paper - I think of all the church ladies from my childhood. Don't even let me see some old lady wearing a bad wig! I immediately remember a specific church sister who I'll leave unnamed.

My biggest memory tweaks come from food and cooking. My mother was a wonderful cook. She was a natural in the kitchen. I don't think I ever saw Mama measure anything. Many years back, one of my sisters-in-law decided that she was going to write down Mama's recipes. The only way she managed to do so was to wait until Mama visited. My sister-in-law would stand by with pen and paper while Mama cooked just so she could eyeball the measurements Mom used in her dishes. Thankfully, my sister-in-law did get down a lot of the recipes and I have a copy that I left behind with the nieces in Anchorage. I'm going to need them to send me another copy!

I was thinking of my mother the other day when I unpacked a cookbook I bought a long while back. I had to order another copy because I want to share it with some relatives. Going through this cookbook is like flipping through a mental photo album of memories.

 I tell people that this is not just a cookbook for African Americans but a cookbook, history course, and cultural gem for all people. The collection is from the Tuskegee Institute and there are a lot of historical photos and little anecdotes included. But it's the recipes that stir my memories...

My mother was from Texas and she and her Mexican friends would joke about the blacks and Mexicans boosting the rice economy every time they shopped. I myself preferred (and still do) pinto beans and rice.

I love neck bones. I can skip the rest of a  meal and just eat some neck bones. When I was in Anchorage, I'd pick some up at least once ever couple of weeks. It was such a habit of mine that whenever I took my little nephew  DJ with me to the store, he'd ask if we were going to get my neck bones! 

 Salmon croquettes was never a favorite of mine, but all the rest of my family really likes them. You can bet that the Alaska fam makes croquettes whenever they snag some fresh salmon.

 I have tasted pickled pig. Can't remember if it was a foot, tail, or toe, but I did taste it. I'm not a fan, but I have an uncle who will make a sandwich with pickled pig parts. Ugh.

The whole "Aunt Bay Bay" thing made me do my Jeff Foxworthy imitation. "If you've got relatives named Bay Bay, Peaches, or Skint, then you might be a black Southerner." I'm being silly, but I bet that barbecue sauce is the business though!

One of my favorite "Mama dishes" was navy beans served with hot water cornbread. Another was smothered potatoes and onions with hoe cake. I know how to make the navy beans and hot water cornbread, but trying to find a hoe cake recipe made the way mom did it is driving me crazy. Most recipes I've seen use cornmeal or cornmeal and flour. Mama's bread was made with flour, no cornmeal. Basically, Mama's cakes were similar to Naan only a bit heavier. I don't ever remember eating a cold hoe cake; Mama always served them warm right out of the skillet. As a child, I ate hoe cake with those potatoes or with gravy or even with just some butter and syrup.

Probably good, but it's not
 my mama's recipe...

Mama's hoe cake recipe was simple, from what I recall. Just flour, water, and some lard. I always thought they should have been called "Po' Cakes" as in cakes for poor people. Here's a fact about military families of the past: a lot of us were just as poor as some civilian families.

My mother was truly a genius at feeding 6 kids and 2 adults. We ate a lot of greens - collard, turnip, mustard - and potatoes fixed in more ways than you could imagine. I remember a lot or meals where the main dish was cabbage or one of the "greens" and a ham hock or smoked neck-bone was the only meat. When we did eat meat, it was mostly chicken - smothered, fried, baked, or boiled with some dumplings. I do not remember eating very many hamburgers unless we were having a backyard cookout. (I also didn't eat McDonald's until I was in my mid-teens. What-a-Burger was my childhood "fast food" treat.)

Anyway, I was going through that cookbook and feeling all emotional until I remembered that it had no recipe for my mama's style of hoe cakes. (The one thing it does get right is the way hoe cakes got their name.)

Just like my mama told me

I've recently ordered a vintage cookbook and it's taking 2 days short of forever to get here.  I don't mind the wait though because I snatched up a spiral-bound first printing copy for $17. One day, you won't be able to get near a copy for under around $100-$150, I bet. I don't even want it for the potential future value. The first reason I wanted it was because the cover photo reminds me of my aunt (the one with the cinnamon rolls and chocolate milk!).

The other reason is because of the title. I remember my mother saying something similar - not about food, but life and people in general: "Be of a good heart and a light hand."

My best and favorite memories of my mother are those of her in the kitchen. If she wasn't cooking, she was sitting at the table, sometimes with friends, having coffee. Or she'd be reading her Bible while waiting for a cake or pie to come out of the oven. I used to tell people that my mother's Christian ministry was in feeding people. She would feed anyone. As poor as we sometimes were, my mother could stretch a meal. It would seem she had just enough food for us until someone dropped by, then she could feed twice as many people. I don't know how she did it.

A couple of days ago, I made some chicken and dumplings. I don't even particularly like chicken and dumplings! As the food cooked, I'd take the lid off the pot every now and then just to smell the memories.

Peace
--Free

UPDATE: The other cookbook arrived today (A Good Heart and a Light Hand) and I am so happy I could weep. There are 2 hoe cake recipes: one with flour and one with cornmeal. The flour hoe cake recipe sounds exactly like what my mother used. Others I found would use cold water to make the dough...

 When I cook some, I will be sure to let you all know how they turned out! And, you know what, I 'm going to go ahead and post a photo of the recipe. Couldn't help myself.




The book is a little beat up, but it is a first printing from 1968 (and a from the "Educational Materials Center Tucson Public Schools") so I'm lucky it held up as well as it did. I notice that it was originally meant to be priced at $3. So $17 isn't that bad all these years later. I am going to hold this book precious until the day I die.

A Memory Storm

Hey y'all. Your girl here is having what I like to call a memory storm. You know, when you have so much going on in your head that things collide & your brain rescues itself from possible system failure by taking a walk in the rain of pleasant memories. Only the memories aren't nice & organized - they just bounce all over the place, like hail or those hard little raindrops that hurt when they hit you.

Memory storm.

Memories about my mama.

Asofetida - I don't know if that's how it's spelled, but I remember Mama saying it's what her mother used to put on her (Mama's) chest when she had a cold or something. Said it stunk to high heaven & probably only worked because the odor scared the germs away.

Urine Shampoo - Mama told me once how, when they were young, her cousin "Bunky" was the only one in the family with short hair(do y'all remember "In Living Color" where one of the characters talked about folk & one of her lines was about a woman with short hair: "hair so shawt you can read her thoughts!"?) and someone told her that it would grow if she washed it in her urine. This fool saved her pee in a big old jar & once a week, she'd pour the urine on it. I don't know what that old pee must've smelled like, but Mama says Bunky grew enough hair in a few weeks to snatch up into a rubber band. She might've grown more hair if "Aunt Jack" hadn't made her stop with the pee shampoos.

Bacon Grease Lotion - Mama says that if they ran out of Jergens or Vaseline, she and her cousins would use bacon grease (and you know she meant that big jar of "drippings" that sat on the stove in an old Folgers can) instead. One time, one of her cousins oiled up and headed off to work. She was running late, so she short-cut it through someone's back yard. "Someone" had some dogs. Dogs smelled the bacon grease. Cousin had to pull the Wilma Rudolph out of her soul and book like the wind. I guess she was leaping fences like somebody had bet money on her. (I suppose she made it away from the dogs. Mama never said. We were both laughing too hard for her to finish that story.)

Sooty Beauty - Back in the day (Mama's day), there weren't a lot of readily available cosmetics for "women of color." Most of my mother's family has LOTS of color & they go from black as midnight (some of them with grey eyes that gave me serious nightmares & this is before colored contacts!) to Light as Vanessa Williams. Most fall in the middlin' to dark category. The lighter-complexioned folk could get away with over the counter lipsticks & blushes and all that. My mother and the rest had to work something else out. So what did they do? Mama says that they'd find the darkest lipstick (usually some kind of slut-red shade) and they could find, then mix in some soot. Yep. Soot from the bottom of pots or burnt wood... The soot would darken up the lipstick enough to compliment a sister with deep roots. (Another time, Mama told me that there were some cosmetics for black women. These were sold door-to-door or could be ordered from ads in the back of romance magazines. A long time ago, someone sent me an old copy of a black romance mag & I saw an ad for "Lucky Heart Cosmetics." Somehow, I picture this as one of the places Mama would have found her makeup when she was young.)

"Busting" a part - My mother was extremely honest. If she didn't know you well, but didn't like something about you, she'd be polite about telling you. If she knew you well - or "owned" you as she did her children - she'd skip politeness & just get to the damn point. (Mama's bossiness with a person went up with her level of approval of them. I could always tell a friend of mine was "in" with my mama the minute she went from inviting them to "come on in and have a seat" to telling them "bring your ass on in here and sit down, boy. That couch ain't gone bite your ass." Most guys who made it past being like by Mama were keepers as far as I was concerned.) One time, I thought it would be cute to wear my hair with a part down the very center. Mama didn't think it was cute. When I came out to rescue a date from being scared into incontinency by Mama, she took one look at my head and asked, "Why you got your hair busted down the middle with that part, looking like Sista Tutta?" (I have no idea who "Sista Tutta" is & I didn't ask. I was too busy sliding back into the bathroom to get that part out of my hair. And, no, I didn't "keep" the guy I had the date with. He laughed a little too damned hard at Mama's comments.)

TPV Perfume - (This crossed my mind when I did my "favorite perfume" on the ABC's yesterday.) When I was younger, I wasn't allowed to wear make-up (don't forget my "holiness" background), and perfume was too extravagant. BUT - I knew I had hit a milestone of "getting grown" when Mama let me wear TPV to a school "dance" (aka: a bunch of kids standing against the wall in the gym and pretending not to notice each other while music played). Talcum powder and vanilla extract. Yep. I didn't get to buy "Heaven Sent" (or whatever it was called), but I sure thought I was some hot stuff when I wiped that cotton ball of vanilla across my shoulders and then puffed on some powder. Shoot. Too bad the only boy who got close enough to smell it was the boy handing out the plastic cups at the punchbowl.

Chewing tar - This falls into that category of "country health" stuff. I can't even lay this on my mama's generation & end it there because she passed it down to us. Until I was about fourteen (right around the time I was leaving my small town life), I - and all my cousins, play & real - chewed tar. I don't remember where it came from. My mama and aunt would have it to hand out to us. It was clean little pieces & shiny where it had been broken or cut into bite sizes. We'd gnaw on that tar like dogs on rawhide. Mama always said it was good for the teeth. And I have to say, I always had great teeth - until the Air Force let their dentists practice on all of us.

Wow. Memory storm. Mama on the mind.

Believe it or not, I owe almost all of my current manuscripts (the ideas, the characters, the settings - everything) to these memories. Of course, I guess most writers will say the same thing.

Speaking of writers - be sure to check out the new link on the left. John Baker, out of the UK, writes mysteries & we've exchanged links. (John - I'm SO coveting the cover design on your books - just beautiful! - & I can't wait to read these.)

--Free

WORDS:
"Love is either calm or storm/Sometimes you rain gently into my heart/Sometimes you are a blizzard in my soul"
(Free 3/2006)

LISTENING TO:
Yahoo Listing of the artist Kem (nice)

WEBSITE:
A CSS Tutorial that I seriously need. Gotta fix this dang template problem!