Archive for the Cinnamon Coated Category

The Twelve … XII

Posted in Cinnamon Coated with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 22, 2013 by O.S-Hughes

I started writing this some time last year but being the chief procrastinator that I often am, I left finishing it off till later. I have always known and said that the Glory is in the finish as there is no prize for starting anything under the sun. These words I had spoken came back to me and I realised that there are various things I set in motion but somehow filed for later. Here I am showing up flaws & all, although I constantly strive for perfection I am far from perfect.

What random facts shall I share with you today…?

One of the most consistent things in my life is story telling. Right from the time I could string words together I’ve told stories from my point of view. In primary school when the class teacher decided her students deserved a break I was often picked to tell my stories. The one thing that has stayed with me from then to now is my penchant for details! I still haven’t mastered the art of not giving all the details in my kitty away. I guess it is borne out of my desire for perfection as well as to present all the facts possible, so my reader/listener is able to arrive at an uncluttered/un-tarnished deduction.

Enjoy…

Mille Bisous!

O.S-H

Hiiiiii there,

Hope you’ve had an amazing holiday as well as time to reflect on the true reason for the season. I have stood silently watching you all come and go…  from Belgium, United Kingdom, Russia, and Canada & all over the world. It’s pretty humbling, to think that someone in as far-flung a place as Uzbekistan finds what I have to say important enough to stop by for a cursory glance or even a leisurely read.  Thank you for stopping by my little playground. Today I choose to break the silence. I didn’t mean to disappear, in fact I wrote several things that I wanted to develop/share with you but the publish button had eluded me… until now

As someone who hasn’t won anything, it was quite interesting to see the tide change as I had been nominated for the ‘most versatile blog’ award by my dear friend Tizzle who doubles as a rose in my hair as well as a thorn in my flesh. Thanks a lot Ms T.  Muchos gratias. Love always http://mstizzle.wordpress.com/2012/11/20/versatility-baybay/

I. Mi on saba ta tete (I don’t usually play the lottery or gamble ) but I took a chance on The Third world Profasional’s bog and won this stunning O’eclat Designs Amber Box bag http://www.thirdworldprofashional.com/2012/11/winner.html. Ecstatic doesn’t begin to describe my feelings.  Thanks again to the lovely people at TWP & O’eclat youguysrock!!!!!!!!!!!

TWP & Oéclat

The rules of the versatile blog award state that I share 7 random things, however I have chosen to up the ante by rounding it off to twelve seen as we are rounding off the twelfth month of 2012.In March 2011, I wrote a post that has been crowned my readers favourite ‘random facts about Olatanwa’ you can read it here https://coraldrapings.wordpress.com/2011/03/29/random-facts-about-ola. Twelve  is somewhat a continuation.

II.Recently I took a pretty bold slash unexpected step!  Somehow its ripple effect can still be felt today.

Speaking of steps, in my Fight against the Flab, I am beginning to embrace Exercise. However the only form of exercise I do is ‘taking the Stairs’. No elevators. I find that it’s the best way to get my Heart racing free of attachment, strings or baggage. I’m taking my own advice and Fighting the Flab! https://coraldrapings.wordpress.com/2012/01/23/fighting-the-flab/

III. Another demon I’m fighting daily is Mild Dyslexia, a few symptoms I have noticed are evident in  my writing which often show repetition, additions, transpositions, omissions, substitutions, and reversals in letters, numbers and/or words. I have problems pronouncing “TH” words.    I can sometimes be a lot like Miss Malaprop from The Rivals a play by Richard Brinsley Sheridan. You don’t often see this in my writing because you see the finished product. I can be ambidextrous, and often confuse left/right, over/under, North, South, East, and West.

IV.  Of life’s smallest edible packages these are a few of my favourites Agbalumo, Pomegranates and Small Chops (finger foods), however you’ll break one of my cardinal rules if Mosa is missing!! After tweaking the recipe for Mosa I got from Afrolems!. I can proudly say I make the meanest Mosa with the best Pepper & Garlic dip

  1. Coral Drapings Collage

V. I have long admired Alfred Hitchcock Producer/ director ‘extraordinaire’, seeing as I’m well on my way to becoming a Hitchcock Aficionado, watching Shadow of doubt recently was an enjoyable experience. Hitchcock mastered the art of invoking feelings in his audience without the characters saying too much and leading the viewers on. Another person whose work I admire is Uncle Tunde Kelani of Mainframe productions. The best Yoruba movies I have seen are Saworinde & Agogo Ewo both masterfully produced by Mainframe.

 VI. You may or may not already know this but I’m an Incurable Romantic. Nope! Not a hopeless one, hopeless and incurable are not to be interchanged. Recently I have not been a 100% me. I took my mind off me and discovered that my friend Henrietta was crushing on my other friend L. So I got a bright idea  why not live vicariously through these two?  I set to work watering the ground. I had so much fun. I built it up to be a hangout, not a romantic date as those can potentially restrict or create lofty expectations.

Would you like to get Ice cream??
Yes
What if I can only come virtually.
I’ll foot the bill.
There’ll be three of us.
what do you think?
Read more about the hang out here. http://haworrey.wordpress.com/2012/11/22/random-meeting/

 

VII, VIII, IX.    Lagos/ Surprises/ Love and White… Lagos is one of my favourite places in the world and I’ve been longing for her, maybe being away from her for so long has something to do with me not feeling 100%. One of my friends TA, who knows I love surprises came over bearing treats from Lagos!

An overused phrase in the world right now is “Love at first sight”. Love has never happened for me at first sight. Intrigue maybe, but love? Naa!  For me, it always is Intrigue at first sight, and my dear reader, Love DOES NOT equal Intrigue. Intrigue blossoms from piqued interests, many of which have been left out to starve right after they were born. You see, there are those you choose to fight for, others you let die a natural death, and others still, that for the sake of personal sanity, must be killed. I happened upon a word I’d never seen before and it partly describes what I feel.  Sapiosexual, according to Collins Dictionary it is someone who finds intelligence the most sexually attractive feature; behaviour  of  becoming attracted to or aroused by intelligence and its use. This is evident in The Perfect Day.   https://coraldrapings.wordpress.com/2011/12/29/a-perfectday/

White is one of my favourite colours! It’s a blank canvass and can help bring out my artistic side. White is chic, However not everyone can pull it off. I do a mean white ensemble Ask about me!

X.    I cannot understand the obsession/fixation with getting married or trying to marry everyone off.
The other day I walked into the [Director] Oga’s office to update him on some work related stuff and the following ensued:
Oga : Osh, When are you getting married? (This & Oko’nko?  have to be the most asked question of the year.)
O.S-H: Sir, the gentleman is in traffic, when he gets in we’ll decide.

Oga: I can offer special prayers for you to speed his arrival up if you like.

O.S-H: That’s really nice of you. Thank you Sir.

Oga: You’d have to pay.

O.S-H: I’m afraid I can’t afford you.

Oga: It’s not money,  you’ll have to bring some things

O.S-H: blank stare….

*Awkward Silence*

O.S-H: Okay, Thank you sir.

 Finds the door and uses it, as quick as her legs can carry her. Whilst remaining calm.

 My answer “He is in Traffic”, aptly describes it, think Lagos traffic. The beauty of traffic is it always clears up in the end. NO matter how long it takes you will not remain on the same spot forever.

For me “Traffic” is a matter of choice:

i. You can decide to change your destination: .I no fit O! Hian, This traffic na die!

Wait, wait what am I looking for in Lekki again? Coral sells the besttttttest coffee.
Omo I fit manage the one weydey Parkview, I no go die if I no drink am (but you know in your heart it’s not nearly as awesome as Coral’s coffee) well its back to Ikoyi for me.

ii. Take a detour/ alternative route to arrive at the same place.

iii. Go through the process and learn a thing or two about life along the way.

XI.   For as long as I can remember I’ve always loved Rings. As a primary school girl, having grown up catholic, I looked forward to Mass as this was my only opportunity to buy an affordable ring. For the last 20 months I have worn on my right hand a ring that once belonged to Oyins, My Ange Gardien

Olatanwa.

XIIMy favourite scripture was Psalms 118; 17. “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.”

It is now Habakkuk 2:3. Which I believe is self-explanatory

“For the vision is yet for an appointed time;
But at the end it will speak, and it will not lie.
Though it tarries, wait for it;
Because it will surely come,
It will not tarry.”

 

Better Nights, Better Times, Better Days

Posted in Cinnamon Coated with tags , , , , on February 28, 2013 by O.S-Hughes

 

 Doyin

‘ Kiss my forehead’, I said ‘See you later’.
Later never happened.
I watched him go board the plane.
That was the beginning of the end.

‘I don’t know where this is going’ he said.
He no longer held my hand in the park
I smiled away the tears
That was the beginning of the end.

‘How will you prove you love me?’ He asked.
I prayed and cooked and talked and laughed and kissed.
He wanted something more.
That was the end.

Here’s who I am –
A lover, a giver, a firecracker, a gem
Here’s what’s to come –
Better Nights, Better Times, Better Days
__________
Isha 
ishashotgist.blogspot.com

Isha is speaking my heart !!!!!!!!

Like she took my story and told it better than I ever could.

Its   happening all over again.

[( click to read) very amusing  that I wrote   in the month of love some two years ago.

How does something so rare die?

  Love like a Rose: needs attention [pruning] air, sunlight , food [communication]. Roses like relationships take quality time, concentration & emotional energy.

Many a “Rose” [beautiful relationships/friendships]  have been chopped off in their prime…before they ever blossomed !

Did you know a wound takes longer to heal when it’s covered up? Its more likely to get worse because its been allowed to fester…..

you starve it of air/oxygen/life  in hopes that it dies but rather than die it becomes much worse than when you put the first band-aid on…………

…………………………………………………………………………..

To Better Nights, Better Times, Better Days!

~

Olatanwa

The Journey of Love

Posted in Cinnamon Coated with tags , , , , , on February 19, 2013 by O.S-Hughes

Nse

The season of Love is winding down & I hope your appetite for all things Love is not weaning . I happened on this blog  MyHandisMine   &  found a beautiful story. I especially  like the way this story reads and I believe you will enjoy reading it too.

On Valentine’s day my friend sent me this very interesting link that put things into  perspective. It is a teaching  by Atinuke Asegieme called

The Journey of Love   ( click to download)

Bisous!

Becoming Her by Nse Ikpe-Etim

I had been immunized against the bug and this is received through all the amazing lessons life hands you on a platter.  I had a boyfriend when it was a taboo to have one. I was 17. Our first meeting was as ordinary as it gets. I went on a stroll which was not uncommon those days on our estate, and there came this young man driving his father’s car. He stopped, chatted with me for a while and I wonder what he said that made me get into his car and have him drop me off. He called the intercom and we talked again but he knew the times to call when mum would not do the picking. Little did I know that the day he picked me up was the day I would begin the journey. We spent our spare moments together, talking, walking and when we walked the streets, word travelled swiftly to our parents. On my arrival home, a cane was the welcome party. We always paid dearly for those nights because our parents wanted us to be straight kids, but we didn’t mind.
This did not deter me nor stop my stubborn heart from wanting to be with him. I had a friend who listened to my fears and laughed at my tales of the experiences school had brought with it, alongside the education I so craved. I remember when he played the guitar and sang Chris de burgh’s “Lady in Red”. It was so beautiful; the funny thing is that I was not wearing red when he sang, but in that moment red was just a state of mind. I was fragile and he was so caring, attentive to my every need. We would meet up at 7.30pm under the stairs and talk till it was almost 10pm. Then he would tell me it was time to go. I would sulk, make faces till I cried and he would be forced to stay at least a second more. Well that was until mum called out my name and I would run inside, pretending the trash was my mission. He would run back home and sometimes, the doors would be locked and he would have to call for someone to open the door. He was the best friend I’d never had.
After dad’s passing, I craved the father-daughter relationship so much that I looked at him in that light. I had found my first true love. He took me on many firsts; squash, scrabble games, drives, music. And the day that Tunisia and Nigeria played a match at the stadium in Surulere, he asked me out on a date. It was our first official date (who takes a girl out to a football match on a first date?) We went out to watch the Eagles play and I was blown away. We won the match and he had won my heart. Our friends marveled at the way our love grew and we became the bad examples of what not to be. When we walked, mothers would point at us and say “that’s what you should never be” hahahaha… We were good friends, and much more. I had only learnt to cook at 15 and dad passed before I succeeded in making Egusi soup edible. My best friend was a willing guinea pig, tasting any and every meal I cooked. Watching him enjoy my cooking was therapeutic, considering the effort it took dad to eat the morsels of pounded yam and my rather shoddy Egusi soup.
I began to hope that one day I would bear his kids. At 17 though, kids and their thoughts! The semester had resumed and we both went back to our different schools, no emails, no cell phones, no blackberries or WhatsApp. The post office was rather cumbersome. All we had were our hearts and our thoughts. It turns out that was all the connection we needed. When the holidays came around I looked forward to seeing him, and then he told me he was leaving the country. My heart broke and tears poured freely down my face, I begged him to stay but he told me he had to go. I accepted this with a heavy heart and hoped that one day I would find a friend like him. When we got to the airport, I bade him farewell, he turned and said “I will come back, Nse”. I cried my heart out and went back to school the next day. I had lost the only friend who never judged me, who sang to me, and told me I was beautiful.

The years went by and one day I ran into his mum and got his number off her. We started talking again but I decided to let him go. I dated other men, became a woman and swore never to marry. I knew it wasn’t meant for me because after what I saw my parents have, mine had to be just like theirs or better!
I had finally become a woman, set in her ways but something was missing. So again I set out to look for him. I searched every social network to no avail and one day I used a search engine and there he was staring back at me. I sent him an email and he responded. We were ecstatic. At least I was, I had found the only man who knew the right things to say to make me happy. Then he proposed. I was over the moon. I accepted and told mum. My family was happy because they knew our history and just when I was getting ready to be Mrs……. He broke it off! I cried again, third time is a charm yea? He wasn’t supposed to make my mascara run he was meant to smear my lipstick!
I had been heartbroken yet again but this time it was done by him not a circumstance. I hated him, I loathed him and I rued the day I first set my eyes on him! He had changed me and now no man meant anything to me. I just dated and if it was inconvenient, I walked away. My famous quote “I was not born to be married” raised dust in some quarters, but no one cared to know why! Why get married to someone who would cheat on you or better still whom I would cheat on? Why get married to someone who would make me a shadow of myself or perhaps, have me give up my career for him? Yes, again I say, I was not born to be married. I got an email from him after so many years and I hated his guts. I alternated between ignoring him and giving frosty replies. He had my sister play mediator and that earned him a fairly warm reply. Well at least he was honest to walk away when he did rather than walk all over me in the marriage.
As the days went by, we spoke about so many things, emotions got in the way and he blurted it “I would love to spend the rest of my life with my sweetheart” and I asked him “have you told her?”. He said he had been trying but she seemed distant (abi you for no pretend say you no sabi say na you) oh well. I wanted him to say the words. And he did! “Will you marry me?” My heart skipped a beat and I said “listen yeah, you just have to give me some time to think this through” I knew my answer would be yes, but how was I to tell him I never got over him? Would I be perceived as weak, needy or just a desperate woman? It had taken us two decades to get to this point and what a road we had come. This is my heart, my happiness my true love had come back to me. Who cares what anyone thinks!
… So I got on the phone, called my friend and asked her to send him a card, flowers and a bottle of wine with my reply… “Yes I will marry you, my one true Love” Well I think that’s what I sent, but to be honest I was quite giddy. The long and short of it is that I said yes and my life has never been the same!
THE BEGINNING.

  On Valentine’s day, Nse Finally Became Her!  (click for details) & read more from Nse Ikpe-Etim here MyHandisMine

Photo Credit Bella Naija

T R A D I T I O N !

Posted in Cinnamon Coated with tags , , , , , , on January 7, 2013 by O.S-Hughes

LuMi® being  LUMI™_ Lagos

Keresimesi odun de O!!!

I feel like I must apologize for taking a hiatus without a word, I was here all along but the Publish button and I got into a big row. She threaten to expose my deepest secrets.

Do forgive  my seeming  absence..

Thank You to all who have been here through out the year 2012, especially you. Here’s a Toast to a most Splendid 2013!!!! May it be a Beautiful Surprise for you & yours.

Beneath is something I wrote on the 28th of December 2012 but posted privately. Enjoy!

Christmas was the most amazing time of the year for me and I remembered that today while chatting to my “special”  dear friend Tks . We talked about how he instituted a new Christmas Tradition for he and his family, one that  he’d love to sustain in the years to come. Our chat sent me down memory lane… the Christmas traditions of my lovely Grandma Arinola, where all her children and grandchildren would travel to her home in the country to spend Boxing Day.  It usually played out like the American Thanksgiving lunch but with a twist. Each grandchild from youngest to the oldest had to perform a special song or put on a rendition for Maami. I am number three from the rear of twenty-seven grandbabies!  It was a fairly large audience, depending on attendance; we would often number as many as forty. Weeks before I and all my cousins would fritter back and forth, rehearsing, practicing, perfecting.  Weeks of practice however did little to assuage the anxiety. I remember the frenzy and the nerves, even though it was mostly just family, you knew at the back of your mind you didn’t want to give a performance that would leave a bad taste. Then of course there was Mobolaji, crowd favorite and bloody show off with his guitar and silky smooth voice that always wowed!

 

Another Tradition I fondly remembered was the Tri Family Christmas recital. You see I played the piano as a child and took lessons at Isha’s house. Throughout the year, our teacher Mr Kosoko, taught the children from the houses of  Seni- Hughes, Maceo & Odutola select pieces from the legendary greats, Chopin, Handel, and Strauss. To show our family how much we had learnt and grown. Mr Kosoko instituted the Christmas Recital and here we got together to present piano renditions of our most loved Christmas carols. It was a time to bond over good food sing along to joyous carols and listen to classical piano pieces.

 { probably the most random fact… but Chopin died on the date a Gem would be born! Long after his passing.}

At our home, we have a little Christmas ritual but it’s the one on New Year’s Day that excited me most. As the clocks approached 12, and the new year neared we would share a succinct prayer lead by Y.S.H. after which a bottle of bubbly would be popped devour of fuss and fanfare followed by a simple toast, to life, health and family.  It is this ritual that was handed down to Y.S.H by his own father. If you guessed that I was excited most about the bubbly, then you guessed right!

 [ Veuve Clicquot ~ Courtesy  BN & JA  CoralDrapingswordpress]

As the New Year is almost upon us, I sit here wondering what traditions I will share with my darlings

” Arinola, Adunola ,Anjola & their Father ………, “

Would it  be a mixed pot of my present family traditions (of course with our own personal stamp on it) or would we create something new for ourselves?

In all of this I know I want to show and teach them to be content with a little or a lot, how to abase and abound, how to feast as well as fast! 

Till we chat again

Bisous!

O.S-H

Photography  ~ Lumi Morgan  &  Jide Alakija 

L e a p i n g!

Posted in Cinnamon Coated with tags , , , , , on February 29, 2012 by O.S-Hughes

Now in this leap year on this 29th day of february.
albeit a different season , setting & sailor
This Heart has reasons that Reason knows nothing of…
For This Heart has chosen to leap without the safety of an anchor..&
This woman loves the weight of you on her mind..
She wants to peel each layer of your complexity like an onion.
so she can finally see all of you with renewed vision .
She longs to pray with you…
Clown around with you..
Cook with you..
This Heart asks that you walk alongside her till the end of time.
But the Head constantly cautions this Heart.
O Heart where is your anchor???
in response
she reiterates…
This I know for sure
If all else fails…
“We’ll always have Accra

This verse has a soundtrack. Some glitches have prevented me from uploading it.

Can I Walk With You ~ India Arie.

Solace!!

Posted in Cinnamon Coated on February 29, 2012 by O.S-Hughes

I dug this poem up for your reading pleasure & my personal torture, I was at a strange place in my life.. Conflicted aptly describes it. It really is amazing how strong an effect our emotions have on our well being.
Enjoy your reading
Olatanwa.

Each time I find myself thinking of you,

I end up with a steady throb in my head much like a migraine 

but amidst my pain … I’m strangely at peace.

Shouldn’t it be that I erase the thought of you?

Impossible as it seems this is a much welcomed migraine

One that is greatly anticipated,

One from which I derive a certain inexplicable calm,
A height I cannot attain unless I’m in this frame of mind. I’m certain you aren’t any good for me.
Yet I feel like you are as important to me as my left ventricle You are now very much a part of me!
To kill the knowledge of your existence, will be to rip out an essential fibre of my sanity.
To silence the thought of you, is to force an altruistic toddler to speak before he can form the words.
To erase the fact that you ever were is to force a premature baby to live without its incubator.
The thought of you is outrageously soothing.
To put an end to this; is to uproot me from my comfort zone is to make me a Woman when in my minds eye I’m but a Girl!

Copyright ©2009

Y e l l o w~ M o o N

Posted in Cinnamon Coated on February 14, 2012 by O.S-Hughes

 

Miss Sun did not rise yesterday, or did she?
I tell myself I must have missed her, but yet I know all too well that I haven’t, I couldn’t, how could I. For How does one miss the Sun? Impossible! She is everywhere, ever shining, from the moment she rises to the time she sleeps, all eyes stay on her, but be careful not to look too close, lest you be blinded by her radiance. For she is every man’s dream, the brightest of all stars and they all wish they could be just like her.
From the first time I laid eyes on her, I became lost in her beauty that transcends all imagination, for even in my dreams, I have never been as fortunate to behold such a sight. And so, I am quick to wake, hoping to glimpse her rise, and she brings a smile to my face every single time. And when the day is gone and she bids me farewell, I feel the tears well up inside me, and i wonder why does it always have to be this way. Why can’t she just stay?
Oh how I love the sun. What’s not to love? Every day, I pray to wake and feel her love strongly, her gaze fixed upon my skin, her passion burning a hole through my heart. Yet, there are those days when she seems not to notice me at all, and suddenly life seems a lot colder, as the chilling winds of loneliness blow, letting me know how much I need her, how much I love her, how much I want her. Oh how i wish the morning would quickly come.
So I can once more gaze upon her smile that hovers in the horizon, her enticing beauty.  But sleep seems far from me. Why do I crave her so? I pondered, and in the deep meditation of my thoughts.
I saw her.
Outside my open window, there she danced in the sky, shining in my darkness, relieving my despair, and then it dawned on me. In a world full of many stars, it became harder and harder to remember she was even there. But there she was, ever present, ever shining, even though most of the time i could not see her, yet she was always there. She didn’t care if i seemed not to love her because all she wanted was to love me. Choosing not to intrude upon my life, she just sat there waiting for me to notice her.
Oh what a fool i was. How long had she been there waiting? I do not know. I failed to notice every single time. Compared to Miss Sun, she seemed a bit drab, and whichever way i looked at it, she was simply a reflection of the woman of my dreams. But last night, she seemed a lot different, so full of Life, and when she smiled at me, the darkness suddenly became light around me. I couldn’t help but smile, and let out a deep sigh as i closed my eyes to much needed sleep.
And when I arose, Miss Sun was upon me doing her graceful dance. Unconsciously, I trained my eyes to the sky, and felt a wave of disappointment. I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was there, and for the first time, I found myself wishing that the sun would disappear, just so I could see her again.
O What a fool I was. To ignore the one who always looks out for me. Her love never rises nor sets, always there watching from a distance, simply waiting for me to notice her and pull her into my arms.

Each one of us has a Sun and a Moon,  and often times we are overtaken by the charm of our desire to get what we want that we neglect what we need that’s right in front of us..
I loved Miss Sun because she is glorious and wonderful. But to be honest, in light of recent revelations, I cannot help but love Miss Moon more. Why, you might ask. Its quite simple. She loved me first, and now i know that her love is all that I’ll ever need. Indeed, I need nothing more, as long as I have my Moon I am complete.

Happy St Valentines Day
with Love Sehindemi!

 

%d bloggers like this: