Earlier in the summer I started a series to see what someone like me (who kills plants on a regular basis without even trying) could grow and what I could not. The pineapple plant which I tried growing from a pineapple crown was less than promising. I’m not sure if I just picked a bad pineapple or once again my uncanny ability to kill everything I touch just kicked in. During both of those posts I mentioned my aloe plant which I had kept alive for close to 3 1/2 years. It was a reluctant gift from a friend, a woman several years older than me who is also child free, but has much better luck with plants￼.￼￼
I remember her handing me this tiny little plant and saying “Not even you can kill this.”￼ Flash forward to this year, I decided it was time to repot my plant. I was very meticulous in my mission not to disturb it or stress it out and to follow the exact directions my friend had given me. While I initially felt like this was a success, it wasn’t due to the fact that I had the pineapple plant next to my aloe plant and therefore I gained another problem. That problem would be gnats. Yes, gnats. An entire family of them to be exact that began making a home in the dirt of my aloe plant.
This really ticked me off and so began a civil war within my own home: Brittany and Tom vs. the Gnats. Spoiler alert: The gnats were winning. Tom and I tried everything from a Hydrogen Peroxide bath￼￼ to gnat traps. We killed easily about 200 a week but it still wasn’t helping the problem. We needed to pull out the big guns. That would be my mother-in-law, Carol, who is an absolute expert in plant health and care. As a nurse, my mother-in-law plays an intricate role in the health of her patients but during her free time she’s also an avid gardener. I’ve been with Tom nearly 13 years, we were friends since our mid-teens even before we decided to upgrade from friends to significant others. Tom’s family is basically like my second family,￼￼ I considered them family long before we made things official and tied the knot in 2016. During my tenure as a member of the Schmidt family I knew if anyone could help me salvage this plant it would be Carol.
Carol mixed some new potting soil for my plant and with a new pot I felt absolutely ready to allow my little plant the opportunity to grow bigger and healthier. What I didn’t realize being somebody who is not an avid gardener, was that my poor plant had suffered because of these gnats. The roots seemed to be slightly rotted and so I took it upon myself to dig it up, lightly dab it with a paper towel and re-pot it in damp soil. As you can see the leaves which are in the picture look very healthy there even seems to be some new growth inside the plant so once I removed the parts of the plant which were rotted and dying, I replanted and made sure it was secure in the soil. It is my hope that the roots will regrow and that I can save this plant, the only living thing I’ve managed to keep alive in my time taking care of plants.
I love how I’ve been pacing in front of it since I replanted it, as if hoping that by staring at it I will basically will it to grow and remain healthy. ￼￼￼￼Now it’s in God’s hands and I hope it survives.
If you know me personally, you know just how important women empowerment is to me. I basically look for any excuse to write about badass women and today is no difference. On this day September 25th 1981; Justice Sandra Day O’Connor was first appointed to the Supreme Court by President Ronald Reagan. Justice O’Connor began her term and remained until 2006.
During her tenure, Justice O’Connor oversaw many important rulings, including the infamous Bush v. Gore, the case that put the end to challenges on the results of the 2000 presidential election (ruling to stop the ongoing Florida election recount and to allow no further recounts). O’Connor is even more notable because she always felt a responsibility to demonstrate women could do the job of justice. In a male dominated Courtroom, she certainly showed she could to the job as well as any man. She faced some minor bumps in the road, including the lack of a woman’s restroom near the Courtroom.
Following her retirement from the Court on January 31, 2006, Justice O’Connor has continued her judicial service by hearing cases in the United States Courts of Appeals. In recognition of her lifetime accomplishments, President Barack Obama awarded Justice O’Connor with the nation’s highest civilian honor, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, on August 12, 2009.
Have a Day, Justice O’Connor! Thank you for playing such a crucial milestone in women’s empowerment and history. Today I celebrate and applaud you.
Today’s post is going to be a little different. Today I am going to be sharing with you my artwork and also a short little story that goes with it. The goal of this post is to shed light on some thing millions of Americans suffer with: anxiety and depression. I’m hoping that the short story reaches somebody who can relate to it and gives them hope to keep holding on. Even if it’s for an hour even if it’s for another minute, just keep holding on… Without further ado here is my short artful story￼￼: Exhaustion
She was pale with exhaustion. Depleted, debilitated, and deeply fatigued. She took her coat off and stood in the rain. It drenched her from head to toe but she felt nothing. Numb. Her soul was as saturated in stress as her body was in the moisture which condensed from the atmosphere. The rain fell slowly, meticulously with acute visibly in separate drops. She could probably count every drop if she wanted to but she couldn’t find the energy to do so as she lumbered through the door with great sense of heaviness her petite frame.
She collapsed in her doorway, with nothing to say. Eyes blank, face drained of color and expression, the only thing that told her she was alive the rapid thumping of her heart and the slow churning of her stomach. Her coat, dark as a raven’s wing, lay tossed beside her-much like her dreams for a fulfilling career. Her long, crimson hair pooled around her like a curtain of blood to mask her anguish. The vinyl flooring is cool against her feverish skin and she wonders how long she could lay here before someone worries and calls her name…
She is spent and her spirit is weathered but yet she is never alone. She has the love of a family, significant other and friends but it is Christ right now who is beside her who loves her the hardest in this moment: he dwells in her heart and gives her the strength to rise from her spot on the floor.
“I can hang on,” she says, “for one more day, for one more hour, for one more minute…”
She says this repeatedly, it’s a mantra she repeats daily and hourly while somehow getting by and living to fight another day taking each moment minute by minute as the years rolled on…
If you or a loved one is suffering from depression or anxiety please know that you are not alone. Christ wants you on this Earth as much as your loved ones and I do.￼￼ if you ever need someone to talk to please feel free to call the crisis hotline at: (855) 942-3414. It’s important to shed light on the dark shadows that dwell in many American’s (as well as countless of people around the world’s) minds￼￼￼. Stay safe everyone and God bless.
Let’s travel back in time: The year is 1997. I remember being 8 years old and visiting the Statue of Liberty with my Father. I always had this cute little obsession with the Twin Towers: whenever we’d visit family in New York or my Mom’s friend Kathy in her apartment in the city I’d watch the twin towers in the skyline until they disappeared from view. I loved the one with the antenna (the North Tower-don’t ask me why I just thought it was cool) My best friend Jen had visited with her Dad and I remember asking my parents if I can visit the observation deck and just look out on the city and I was always told “sure, we’ll definitely do that one day”.
So there I was on the ferry over to Liberty Island and I remember looking up at those great big towers and thinking “wow! They are so tall, strong and mighty!”. I’m 31 today and I will always remember the childlike innocence of being 8 and thinking NYC (especially the twin towers) was invincible.
Now, let’s go forward in time. The year is 2001. I remember with the eyes of a 12 year old the weirdness of 9/11, 19 years ago today. It was a beautiful, mostly sunny day and the sky was so blue. I remember being in 7th grade and watching the morning news with my Mom in which I saw my last glimpse of the skyline on Eyewitness News before I skipped off to school for what would be the strangest school day of my life.
I remember my classmates leaving early, the teachers with glassy eyes and disbelieving faces and I remember my middle school principal Mr. Baxter coming in and saying “Is everyone alright?”. I remember how none of my teachers put on the TV although I heard some did, and having this creepy silence on the bus ride home. I remember carrying my purple plastic French binder (the nerve cause that was the only teacher who gave me homework that day and a lot of it), getting off the bus and seeing my Mom and her friend Marie on my front lawn looking very sad and serious. I also remember seeing what happened on the tv, watching those towers disappear from my view forever. Watching people jump like ants out of windows just to get out of the inferno that raged inside.
I remember the blood and distraught faces of survivors and spectators as they ran from the smoke that swallowed up the city like a cloud of volcanic ash, the firefighters on the screen running in, many of which would never come back out (including my future father in law’s cousin Tommy), I remember the faces of each victim that has flashed on my tv ever since that day. I remember feeling such sadness and pain at the loss of life and crying with my parents.
I also remember the feeling of hope-when England played our national anthem my entire family watched from the couch crying, I remember how United we all stood as Americans, how proud we were to live in the greatest country on Earth.
It’s sad how divided we are today politically, how we have people not feeling safe in the country they call home and people either being too sensitive or not sensitive enough. When I think of a post 9/11 world, I think of the immediate unification of all Americans and I think we need that more than ever in this country right now. We can honor those who lost their lives in the senseless attacks by being good to one another. One of the things I appreciated as I looked at 9/11 from a more adult and historical standpoint was the stories that came out of people helping people-people LOVING people as God would want us all to. It does not matter our age, our race, our religious beliefs or lack there of we are all God’s children regardless. So many people saw God’s love in action through total strangers on that day.
May we never forget this and try our damnest to aspire in creating an atmosphere of unity like it again. ￼That said, God bless the victims and their families who find strength each day in their absence to go on with their lives.
This post is short, sweet and to the point: I’d like to take this moment to wish you, your family, and friends a very blessed, safe and healthy Labor Day Weekend to all those who celebrate here in the USA!
Transitions, they’re a part of life, both scary and exciting as well as fresh and yet intimidating. Wise people always say “practice makes perfect”￼, but what’s practice to a perfectionist though? I have been very vocal on this blog, an advocate if you will, about my long battle with anxiety. Anxiety is wanting a fresh start but allowing negative thoughts and self sabotage to get in your way. You literally feel like you’re waiting for somebody to figure out you’re a fraud. Even when you do your very best.￼￼￼￼People often think it’s easy for anxiety suffers just to “turn it off”-man I wish it was that easy!￼
I am what many would call a creature of habit. I like my routine, I like my life, and any life changes that come my way often take time for me to adjust to. Life doesn’t follow a script, not the ones we write for ourselves and not the ones we expect life to write for us.￼ The only thing we are guaranteed in life is that we are all born, we are all going to pay taxes, and eventually we’re all going to die. What we do with that ” – ” in between our beginning and our demise is entirely up to us but ultimately it could be very intimidating. Many of us are searching for meaning in every opportunity but sometimes opportunities come along to force us to grow.￼￼￼
When you’re a perfectionist in a world that demands perfection you often feel like you fall short of these expectations the people around you have of you. It’s like standing underneath a crumbling avalanche and waiting to be buried in a mirage of feelings. With age I am learning that everybody feels this way: the fear of disappointing our spouses, our parents, our partners, our relatives, our friends and our coworkers. ￼ although I know it is important not to let this fear take the wheel and steer my life direction, some days I find it’s much harder to battle these feelings then others. ￼￼Some days, I am confident in my abilities and certain of my success. Other days, I just want to crawl into a ball and hide from everything￼￼￼. These days which are so conflicting in many ways beg me to question: ￼Is it really better to fake it until you make it? Or should we wear our personality flaws and struggles like battle scars? Is there truly strength in vulnerability by being accessibly vulnerable?￼￼ I think there is, but today, I don’t have answers, only questions and sometimes that’s okay too.
Many Americans with a basic knowledge of history know that the 19th Amendment guarantees American women the right to vote. A lot of modern-day women take for granted this very milestone which required a lengthy and difficult struggle from women who lived over a century ago; a victory which took decades of turbulence and strife.
The journey to give women their basic American right of voting began in the mid-19th century. This was a time when woman suffrage supporters lectured, wrote, marched, lobbied, and practiced civil disobedience to achieve what many Americans considered a revolutionary change for that time.
While women struggled with their rights to vote, believe it or not, the first woman to run for President in a major election took place in 1872. You probably won’t read about her in your high school US History I or II books; but her name was Victoria Claflin Woodhull and she was the candidate of the Equal Rights Party. Her opponents were Ulysses S. Grant (R) and Horace Greeley (D). Woodhull, fought hard for women’s rights and even founded her own newspaper. She became the first woman to own a Wall Street investment firm. Luckily, she would live to see her dream of women’s right to vote realized before she died 7 years later in 1927 but what does that have to do with the significance of this very week?
In order to answer that question, we need to go back to 1878, when the amendment we know today as the 19th amendment was first introduced in Congress. It all began when Victoria Woodhull addressed the House Judiciary Committee, arguing women’s rights to vote under the fourteenth amendment. This ideal was met with such distain that the Anti-Suffrage Party was founded and push back began. From that moment forward it would be 42 whole years later in 1920, when the amendment would finally be ratified! Could you even imagine fighting for something that men your age could do simply by being born male for 42 years? While this seems discouraging to many, it￼ was all made possible by the early champions of voting rights for women. These women, like Victoria Claflin Woodhull, worked tirelessly to make progress on this basic American right. Their strategies varied and while some tried to pass suffrage acts in each state. There were nine western states which adopted woman suffrage legislation by 1912 these states included: California, Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Washington State, Oregon, Kansas and Arizona.
Other states, like Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, and Massachusetts continued to reject woman suffrage. While many well-known women in our history books challenged male-only voting laws in the courts, some of the more well known public tactics included parades, silent vigils, and even hunger strikes. Supporters were heckled, jailed, and sometimes physically abused simply for the rights that men were freely given. I am reminded of the movie Iron Jawed Angels starring Hilary Swank in which she plays Alice Paul. The movie details Paul’s experience after she was arrested for “obstructing traffic” while picketing for women’s suffrage. The struggles she underwent when she was denied counsel, placed in a straitjacket, and subjected to examination in the psychiatric ward (simply for wanting equality!) is just baffling. When it’s concluded that Paul showed no signs of mania or delusion, she got returned to the prison’s general population, where she led the suffragettes on a hunger strike that ended with the warden force-feeding her raw eggs and milk.
The fight was long and exhausting by the time 1916 came, most of the major suffrage organizations stood united behind the goal of a constitutional amendment. When New York officially adopted woman suffrage in 1917, President Wilson (who was in office during Paul’s imprisonment) changed his position to support an amendment in 1918 and the political balance finally began to shift.
On May 21, 1919, the House of Representatives passed the amendment, and two weeks later, the Senate followed. When Tennessee became the 36th state to ratify the amendment on August 18, 1920, the amendment was officially adopted 100 years ago this past Tuesday. While decades of struggle to include African Americans and other minority women in the promise of voting rights persisted, the face of the American elections had changed forever.
As a woman in America, I feel honored and privileged to have been able to vote in every major election. To have my voice heard and not be denied simply because of my gender is something I never take for granted. It is hard to believe that only 100 years ago women gained the right to legally get out and vote, while today so many American women are unregistered to do so. If this post could inspire someone out there who isn’t registered to do so and make their voice heard, then I will feel I’ve done my part in honoring the legacy of the women who came before us, who fought tooth and nail￼￼ to ensure women were included in “all” being “created equal”.
If you haven’t already, please consider registering to vote as it was a privilege up until the last century that was denied to many. ￼Be sure to leave a comment below and tell me; are you registered to vote? How important to you is voting in elections both national, statewide or local?
I know it has been such a long time since I updated and I promise it’s with good reason. In addition to me having probably one of the worst writers blocks I’ve experienced in quite some time, I’ve had a lot of stuff going on in my personal life which prevented me from being as active as I wanted to be. For starters, I got a new job so the last few weeks post Fourth of July I have been focused on learning everything I need to be successful in this new professional venture of mine.
My favorites for the month of July and August will be posted sometime this weekend and I can’t wait to share with you all the things I love, mainly Schmidt’s low carb bread. I am also really excited to share with you my low-carb grilled cheese recipe. Grilled cheese is one of the things I missed most about my old lifestyle since adopting more lower carb eating habits￼ and I am BEYOND thrilled to share with you how you can still enjoy a childhood classic with sacrificing a ‘cheat day’.
This week was really rough week where I am located on the east coast here in the USA. We were hit with a tropical storm, Isaias, which left us without power for over 20 hours￼. Let me tell you all, it’s amazing how much we take for granted the ability to plug in our cell phones into outlets within our homes. Having and trying to get a full night’s rest with no air-conditioning in the house was no fun either.￼
I think the scariest part about the whole experience with Isaias was getting my first ever tornado warning in my 31 years of life living in my state. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a basement to head into so I needed to scoop Draco up and run us into the bathtub. Thankfully the tornado did not strike my town instead it hit a town about 20 minutes south of me￼￼. It was still a super scary experience for us, both Draco and myself, especially since Tom was at work when it was happening.￼ Thankfully God provided and we weren’t affected with any damage just the loss of power but majority of my state lost power too so we weren’t alone. ￼
The power at my job was also affected and not yet restored so as a result yesterday, after the power was soundly restored, I took Draco for a much needed ￼walk with my best friend, Jen, who came by to join us. Draco was very happy to get out and get some exercise, I felt bad because I haven’t been able to walk him as much as I usually do as a result of going back to work. I figured I would take advantage of the fact that I didn’t have to go into the office and treat him to a nice walk. Boy was it hot though!
I would like to give a very special shout out to ￼￼MindBeautySimplicity (we share the same first name too, how cool is that?!) for her wonderful comment this morning. As a writer, we are motivated by the comments we receive, knowing that my blog has made such a positive difference in someone’s life motivates me as a writer to post more frequently. It’s also a reminder to everyone who stops by, please leave a comment, it’s nice to know I am missed￼ and what I have to say matters. Keeping content fresh and relative isn’t always easy for us writers we have to stretch our minds and really think, “does my audience care about this?” Hearing from all of you and knowing what you enjoy reading about helps me narrow down what content to post.
At any rate, I hope this update finds you all safe, well, and healthy. I look forward to posting more frequently as I adjust to my new routine. ￼￼
In lieu of a full post this week, I’d like to take this opportunity to wish all those who celebrate, here in the USA, a very happy 4th of July!
Those of us who live here in the USA were the privileged few to have been born in free country. We were able to breathe the fresh free air since our birth. We remember our national heroes today. Together we have proved ourselves worthy of freedom! On this special day, let us take come forward and make a promise to take our nation on the path of prosperity so that people can live a happy life. Happy Independence day to all.
This morning was much like many during this Quarantine: I woke up, checked my social media accounts, e-mails and poured myself a cup of coffee. In these quiet moments I feel gratitude as I take my first sip of delicious French vanilla. Facing me, from my perch at the kitchen table, on the wall, hangs my bachelors degree in history. It’s a piece of paper that I paid thousands of dollars￼￼￼ to be an accredited historian. I do not have my doctorate, in fact, I was encouraged by the chair person of history at my university that I should not pursue it because it was a lot of schooling and there was no guarantee that I would even become a professor or hired on full time.
My original plan was far from building this blog. When I first set out and created this blog six years ago, I did it as a means of leaving my family and friends something, an imprint of who I was and what I enjoyed for the inevitable day when I’m not here anymore. I’ve talked a lot about my anxiety, I’ve also spent arguably a lot of time reflecting on my inevitable end. Why is this introduction necessary? Because I originally had goals and aspirations to become a high school history teacher. Unfortunately, the obstacles to become one are much too unrealistic, unethical and expensive.
Imagine for one second, if you will, going in and paying close to $150 to take a test where you are timed. All the while focusing you can see the minutes and the seconds ticking down on the right side of the screen. So you do your best, you’ve studied after all, and alas you missed the passing score you need by three points. Initially you would think, ‘no big deal, I’ll look at what I got wrong and study harder next time’, the problem is that the Praxis is an unforgiving obstacle which doesn’t tell you what questions you got wrong. It offers zero guidance and it’s usually in favor of those who can retain useless information and great test takers. ￼￼￼￼￼￼￼ After a while, this could bring down even the most confident person. Shelling out money simply to be told￼ your just not good enough and we don’t fancy telling you why. Alrighty then!
That degree that hangs on my wall, is a daily symbol that sometimes the things we have so intricately planned for our life just don’t work out that way. ￼It is also a daily symbol that when one door closes, another one will surely open. Sometimes the things we hold dear to our hearts, the things we are so certain we are going to do with our lives are not what we were meant to do with our lives at all. It took me the better part of two years to walk away. I am not someone who gives up easily, I am always willing to fight another day. One thing I am not willing to compromise is my self-esteem and self worth which were completely demolished and distorted during this period in my life.￼￼ Today’s post, is a somber one, it highlights the struggles many African Americans faced since the very first Juneteenth. It is also an opportunity for me to teach you something I didn’t learn about until I was in college and probably wouldn’t have learned about unless I was a history major. ￼￼ One of the many issues I have with the way schools are run here in the USA today is that so much of American history is left out of American classrooms. There’s an old saying, history books are written by the winners but who are the winners? Does anybody win when nobody is educated on the whole truth?￼￼
Around Twitter I have seen so many posts saying ‘I was this ￼￼years old when I learned about Juneteenth.’ and holy guacamole is that sad! Americans, regardless of their racial background, religion, sexual orientation and gender identity should know the actual history of Juneteenth. So what is Juneteenth? I’m glad you asked!￼
Juneteenth is actually the oldest national commemoration of the ending of slavery in the United States. It came about on this date (June 19th) in 1865 that Major General Granger of the Union army and his soldiers went down to Galveston, Texas to announce the Civil War was over and all enslaved African Americans were now free. Sadly, this announcement came two and half years after￼ President Abraham Lincoln’s infamous Emancipation Proclamation ! President Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation went into affect on New Year’s Day (January 1st) of 1863 but Texas basically chose to overlook it since there weren’t too many Union soldiers available to see to this new executive order being enforced.
Once General Robert E. Lee surrendered in April of 1865, the arrival of General Granger’s regiment to Texas, ensured that this executive order was no longer being ignored or rebelled against but enforced! Why it took President Lincoln’s executive order 2 1/2 years to be carried out is debated often amongst historians. Some believe that the messenger who was sent down to Texas was killed￼, others believe it was just deliberately ignored to maintain labor force on the plantations. My personal belief is that it was the latter. I believe Texas deliberately chose to ignore and look the other way with the new executive order. The idea of the messenger that was sent was killed (while not totally unbelievable) definitely raises some red flags on accuracy.
Think for a moment: If you were a Union general who sent one of your soldiers to deliver a message to a state which valued slavery that said slaves were now free and your messenger did not return, would that not be sketchy to you? The fact that we don’t know the name of this messenger and that there’s no actual historical backing that he was killed￼-it was merely speculation-tells me Texas got the message loud and clear but chose to ignore it.
So as General Granger and his men arrived in Texas one of the first things he enforced was General Order Number 3￼ which stated: “The people of Texas are informed that in accordance with a Proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and hired laborer.”
As you can imagine, the jubilation and pure unfiltered shock ￼amongst the newly freed African Americans was immediate and contagious. While some former slaves stayed on their plantations to navigate a new relationship with their former master now employer, as a now paid employee, others ran off as soon as word reached their ears about General Order Number 3. The celebration of Juneteenth is a reminder that even though President Lincoln had abolished slavery 2 1/2 years before it took a literal regiment to see to it that this new executive order was enforced everywhere. Holding Texans responsible for enforcing these laws reestablished United States’ authority in the newly rejoined southern states and ultimately freed all African Americans.
For so many of these newly freed slaves, The most logical destination was to go north where many of them sought to find real freedom. Juneteenth celebrates these challenges that these newly freed men and women faced in new territories. It navigated their struggles in finding their place in a society that saw them for so long as lesser than. ￼￼￼June 19th was coined Juneteenth and celebrated earnestly by the decedents of freed African Americans as a time to spend with family, reflect on their past and pray for a brighter future.￼
When I look at the way our country is today, seeing the renewed vigor of the Black Lives Matter movement in marches on raising awareness and leading protests, there is no doubt that this Juneteenth will be very special. Even NFL football teams, such as the Carolina Panthers, have shown their respect for this little known holiday by closing their offices on this date￼. As for the question I posed above: If history is really written by the winners does anyone win if the true historical significance of a day isn’t remembered and shared? ￼ I would say boldly, no. There are no winners when the citizens of a country remain uneducated about the historical significance of a day which impacted the lives of millions of African-Americans, particularly those in the southern states who cling to the abomination that was slavery as a means to control others deserving of human rights. ￼Rather it’s a reminder, if you will, about how far we’ve come as a nation but also how much further we have to go to ensure that all men and women feel safe, equal, and valued within the country they call home.
If you’d like to learn more, be sure to check out these fabulous resources:
What I love about this site is it tells you not only the history but customs which those who celebrate have such as foods, clothing and the history of festivals which struggled to be celebrated in public places before ￼the Civil Rights Movement.
PBS gives an in-depth timeline and historical walk through on Juneteenth and its impact on African Americans in this easy to read, highly educational article. Plus it’s PBS, which fondly taught us so much about our nation’s history in our youth so I’m not going to lie, it’s nostalgic too.
The Smithsonian is a historical accredited institution that has a wealth of information on all things historical. The post linked has a brief overview of Juneteenth as well as historical images which give information regarding regarding this lesser-known holiday.
I really hope you take the time to do your own research and learn about this historically important day. Wishing each and everyone of you a blessed Juneteenth! Have a wonderful day!
Exactly like 1st Grade Where You're Told To Keep A Journal… Just Add Adulthood.