**REVIEW** J.R. Watkins Daily Moisturizing Lotion

Don't you love it when you are having a rough day and something good and unexpected happens? That's why I'm in a better mood tonight than I was when I woke up this morning.

I won't go into why my day started out so crappy, but it got worse when I had to make an emergency run over to Walmart to get some clog buster for the bathroom. I am telling you, this week just started and it is trying to be a doozy.

Anyway, I get over to the store and have to search 3 shelves to find the correct product to clear the drain. So many choices! And I noticed a white bottle that looks out of place among all the Drano, Liquid Plumber, Mr. Plumr, etc., and decided to take a peek. It sure didn't belong on the cleaning aisle:

Man! Talk about flashing back to my younger years!

The last time I saw anything other than extract and some spices from the Watkins label was... well, never. I do remember one of my aunts or someone using a salve that might have been from Watkins but, mostly, I remember all the cakes and gravies that my mother and her friends made using a Watkins product. (I especially can recall the vanilla extract that I was taught to use with baby powder as a fragrance!)

Since some other shopper had obviously put this bottle of lotion down in the wrong part of the store, I had no idea how much it might cost. I put it aside in my basket, thinking that I would just do a price check later. I had some other items to pick up - you know how it is: since I was there - and was already thinking I was going to go over the daily budget.

Guess what good and unexpected thing happened next? When I was slipping my phone back into my purse, I found a twenty stuck in the side pocket. Found money! That almost never happens to me. First thing I did was get tickled and make some other shoppers give me the side eye. I was thinking about a joke a comedian told about Bill Gates: "For someone that rich to get excited about finding forgotten money in a coat pocket, they'd have to find something like four million dollars!" No doubt.

Well, found money or no, I should have tucked it back into the purse until another rainy day, but... There was that lotion.

Maybe it was nostalgia, but I just had to have that lotion. Of course, my sneaky behind was going to try to free the pump and sample it right then and there. You know, just in case I hated it or something. I couldn't be smooth enough about getting the pump turned open, so I just went ahead and bought the bottle. One thing about Walmart, they don't mind doing refunds. Trust me, I know.


Once I got the lotion open. I was so happy that I had splurged some of my found money. The smell alone took me right back to my mother's kitchen on the days she'd make one of her lemon meringue pies. I never even liked those pies that much, but the smell...!!! Heavenly. Come to think of it, that's probably why I like lemon-scented candles so much.

Of course, the thing with scents and fragrances in moisturizers is that they might be overwhelming or - even worse - they might irritate the skin. Lord knows, I don't need that. I already have a rash on my ankles that my doctor is going to be checking out at my next appointment.

I made sure to test this lotion on one arm first. The smell, lovely as it is, doesn't really linger as strongly as it applies. I'd say that it evens out to faint and almost vanilla-tinged odor after about five minutes. The lotion actually moisturizes like a heavier cream formula and left a subtle wax-softness that would make my touch feel pleasant to someone else.

The one thing that puzzles me is the label's statement about the lotion being "99% natural".

no parabens, phthalates, propylene glycol or dyes.

Looking at the label of ingredients, I can't really discern what isn't natural until I squint. I think it must be the acetate they are talking about. Or maybe one of the other ingredients mentioned near the end of the list?

What I do know is that this feels so good as an all-over moisturizer. You know that wonderful feeling you get after a shower when you jump into freshly laundered sheets? Well, that feeling ramps up a notch if you're all smoothed up and smelling good with this lotion.

Another nice thing about the lotion is that the moisture does last. I didn't pay much attention at first but, when I washed my hands about an hour or so after applying, I could feel the lotion coming off in the water. Later, I did try to pay attention to how long it lasted and I know that it lasted at least another three hours (maybe more), but then I had to wash my hands again. The lotion that I applied to the rest of my body was fine all day - meaning I wasn't dry that evening. I can tell by how dry my calves are. Usually, depending on the weather, I might have to re-apply some moisture (usually one of my oils) to my legs at least once or they will be a bit dry at bedtime. I think that's because my jeans rub against them.

Because this lotion brought back so many memories of J. R. Watkins products, I had to go take a peek at their website. I downloaded a catalog and for my niece's upcoming birthday, I'm going to get some of the extracts and laundry soap. That doesn't sound like an exciting birthday gift, but she also remembers my mother (her "Grammy") using Watkins stuff. I think she will be pleased with the gift basket.

When my niece gets to try some of the other products, I will be sure to come back and do a post on them.

Peace
--Free

Big Mama, Big Food, Big Love

I'm taking a couple days' break from reviews. I've received so many EOs for cleansing and moisturizing, I need to let my body (and skin, and hair) rest! I've washed my hair so much that I've rid myself of future dirt.

Today, I want to talk about memories. I've been in that mood. I was telling my niece the other night about the times I used to spend around Big Mama. My memory sucks so I probably tossed in memories that were handed down from my older brothers and sister.

We talked about how Big Mama would fix these huge and amazing breakfasts. When I say that breakfast at Big Mama's was an experience, I mean that even my mother (the Texan) was impressed. There were no simple, egg-and-bacon deals at Big Mama's. There's not a fast food chain around that could emulate these meals without adding a buffet line.

The first time I had a Big Mama breakfast, I thought I'd migrated in my sleep and woken up in the planet of No Freaking Way.

First there was the food: slices of ham, fried pork chops, pan-fried potatoes, thick slabs of bacon, grits  with salt and pepper, and biscuits that so huge and buttery-good that I think they are what the Israelites called manna. There were also eggs - scrambled eggs, sunny-side up, boiled and sliced - but who the heck could think about eggs with all that other food? One of my brothers used to joke that just two of those biscuits could feed half of a small continent.

When I say there was a lot of food, I mean, there wasn't just a dib of this and a dab of that. I mean, there was a lot of food. That was the first amazement.

Then there was the fact that there were so many people at the table. Family that lived two and three blocks away showed up for breakfast at Big Mama's. Talk about getting a start to the day, right? It was like a daily family reunion before folks went off to school or work or back to their own homes for the day.

The most impressive thing to me about those breakfasts - the thing that I never got over, even after I was used to all the food and family - was that they happened while dawn hadn't even thought about breaking. Seriously.

For a time, when my father moved our family there while he went overseas, we had to look for temporary housing. In the meantime, my mother, my siblings and I stayed in Big Mama's house. I'd feel like I'd just gone into REM sleep when I'd hear Big Mama walking around doing her morning wake-up calls.

"Rise and shine, everybody. The Lord has blessed us all to see another day!"

I'd just be wishing that the Lord would bless us to sleep another couple of hours. But, in Big Mama's house, no one was aloud to lay around in bed unless they were sick. Big Mama believed in that early-to-bed and early-to-rise thing. Super early. Crazy early. Early to bed like a narcoleptic wino, and early to rise like a rooster with anxiety issues.

Still, I loved being around my Big Mama. Miz Minnie Lee to a lot of people, but always Big Mama to me. She had her ways though...

Big Mama had in common with a lot of people of her generation when it came to how you raised and treated children. I always think of this image when I think of my Big Mama:

After she fed us all to stuffing before the crack of dawn, Big Mama made us face the day with prowess. During the school year, Big Mama could get 30 kids out of the house - on time, nourished, clean, looking good and feeling like there was nothing they couldn't do. She was like a fierce wind that pushed you out that door and into the world like all your dreams were just waiting for you to collect them. Even with all that freaking food in you.

Side note here about my aunties: I have the best aunties in this world. One of my aunties was a lunch lady at the elementary school. Who always got a fresh cinnamon roll for school breakfast? And who never had to worry that all the chocolate milk was gone? Me, that's who! (And I want to find that lost cinnamon roll recipe because I have never had one like those since childhood.)

One of my other aunties was our lioness. She'd run off bullies with a broom (true story), chaperon teen socials, carpool kids all over the neighborhood after the weekend get-togethers, and make sure that any stray kid was looked after. 

Big Mama raised those aunties of mine. No surprise that they are all women to be reckoned with.

I guess I'm just glad that I have so many good memories of my Big Mama. I wish that so many of the younger people I know could have experienced that kind of love.

Today, people like to call my Big Mama's kind of love "tough love". It wasn't tough, it was just love.

Peace
--Free

Pictures & Memories in the Making

My sister and I have a box of pictures that have traveled more than most air hostesses. That box holds memories of births, weddings, holidays, funerals, just about everything in this world of ours. For the past five to ten years, paper photos have been replaced by digital cameras and phone cameras. I wonder if my little nieces and nephews will yearn for the days when their parents and I sat around, looking through albums of paper photos.

Of course, maybe digital is the way to go. Just a few nights ago, my sister and I had to pick through one of our old boxes, trying to salvage what we could of photos that had gotten damaged in storage. It broke my heart to peel photos out of their pages. I saw tears rolling down my sister's face when we just could not save a couple of really old photos - some of my mother's brothers and sister. To me, if felt like Mama had left those memories with us for safekeeping and we failed her. It does not help my hurt to know that real memories are kept inside us and not on film.

So, here I am, taking pictures of pictures so that I can save them to my computer and an external drive. Irony?

That's my dad! R.I.P.

Me & my bro. So cool...*

I was happy. He was a little scared.*

A soldier to the end.

Don't know who that baby is I'm holding...?

And we are best of friends to this day.*

Remember the Gheri Curl? Yep. (17yrs old)

Me & my (shadow) little bro & his dog. (Big Spring, TX)

What the hell? Bad hair day. (My sis says I was 8 or 9)

The 3 besties. 16yrs old. Supposed to be doing homework.
Still friends. Still a little crazy.

Young, young, young. 21 yrs old.

My "kid" was only about 25 y/o. The backdrop is real, folks.

Too grown for my own good...

I feel a little bit better now. At least these photos will always be somewhere out there.

Peace
--Free
*photos blurred for privacy

Reflections

So... Life under maintenance, a new year started... It all got me to thinking back. I went through a bunch of my photos & thought I'd share the memories... (They are in no particular order. Blogger got goofy about what would upload and what would be rejected by server..???)

 (above) Interesting that I was taking a pic of myself, but don't look happy about it... BUT, notice I have hair! lol

My birthday in June 2010. La Mex. Went with the fam

So dang vain! LOL. At my "sis" Barb's last year, trying on clothes my big sis sent. I need to lose about 15lbs to get back to that size!

This is my niece & nephew a couple yrs ago when he was home from Iraq. I was in TX, but my AK fam made sure I got the pic

There's my niece Gabby! And I'll be danged if she ain't laughing. (Good, Gabby. Not so serious all the time!)

My sweet, sweet Rags-a-poo. I still miss my lil baby every single day

I guess I think I thought I was cute or something. This is in TX with my cousins around April/May I think.  L ast year.We took Lil Man out to try & fish. (All I can think about is that I had more hair on my head then!)

Ahh, my serious and beautiful niece Gabs. Around summer '09 I believe

Horrible pic, but, hey - you know how those bad-lit, self-shot bathroom photos are! LOL BUT check out the SHORT hair cut... Can't believe I did it. Looks a lot better in person & the stylist (Tanya @ Ebony & Ivory) was amazing!

Me & my nephew Dre. Summer of 2010. Man it was a gorgeous day!

La Mex on the birthday. (We look drunk but we aren't really) Cherie had had knee surgery & I was just a little bit blue...

(from left to right) Niece Gabby (being shy), my big sis & bestest friend, my beautiful Mommy and niece Cherie. Fam love, right there in a group!

Wow! This is me, like about 20 yrs ago. Loved that house of ours. Makes me cry to think we are living there anymore...

Ok, that was fun. Maybe I will do another post of pics soon.

Peace
--Free

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!