Quilts

https://goo.gl/photos/93pk8FMZcV3ezqss9

Quilts

On the surface the beautiful design, the warmth on a cold winters night while underneath an intricate patchwork of stitches all coming together joining not just pieces of fabric but generations. In my case me granddaughter to my paternal Grandmother Eva Palmer. Grandma Eva died when I was 5 or 6 so I did not get to know her well but that quilt held her memory however faint to me for quite some time. The colorful triangular patches sewn together combining functional with fancy.

Grandma Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer — Grandmother Music Sewing Box

Grandmother Eva’s Music Sewing Box

Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer — Grandmother Music Sewing Box

Grandma Eva’s Musical Sewing Box that plays, “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.”

Her patchwork quilt so lovingly made for me the first child of her only surviving son, my Dad Edward G. Palmer was like an umbilical cord linking us together. Now both my grandmother and my Dad have long since passed on but every time I see quilts I think of Grandma. Some threads represented the sons she lost to Polio other threads her grandchildren representing the next generation. And I possess her quiet strength and strong faith to endure tragedies and celebrate triumphs.

Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer -- Grandmother — Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer — Grandmother

Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer. My Dad’s Mom. She married my Grandfather William Julius Palmer on Jan. 15, 1919. My grandmother was 27 when she got married to my grandfather who was 40. My grandmother was a Milliner, my grandfather a shipping clerk. I have very vague memories of her.

When I read the story Everyday Use by Alice Walker which is supposed to be a riff on the Bible’s Prodigal son I the good girl, the faithful daughter became the prodigal daughter who eventually returned to the fold. Every so often whether permitting I make my pilgrimage to Harlem to walk the streets of the Harlem Renaissance and every day people like William and Eva Palmer raising a family on a shipping clerk’s salary. My Grandfather William Palmer taking the kids to Mt. Morris Park (Now Marcus Garvey Park) on an outing.

My Grandfather William Palmer with four of his children at Mt. Morris Park around 1926. My Dad Edward G. Palmer is not in the photo because he was not born until 1930. The little boy on my GrandDad’s lap later died from polio.

Everyday Use

Short story by Alice Walker

http://xroads.virginia.edu/~ug97/quilt/walker.html

Sometimes I can still remember traveling to Harlem with my Dad to visit my Grandma Eva. In my mind I’m still walking around her large apartment. I see my Aunt Eva’s piano. I see my Dad looking out the window while playing with the window blind cords and then I hear my Grandmother’s voice telling him to stop and for all of us to come eat.

Then memories fade………….

Love in My Heart and a Sword in my Right Hand!

On November 21, 2015 By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, Africa, African American Queen, African Goddess, African King, Afros, Black Panther, Buffalo Soldiers, Candace of Meroe, Cathay Williams, Caucasian, Christian, Christianity, Colour of Beauty, Dark Skin, Eartha Kitt, Edward G. Palmer, Edward Gordon Palmer, Edward Palmer, Egypt, Ethiopia, Ethiopian Goddess, Eva Gordon Palmer, Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Goddess, Hair, Hair Texture, Hattie Banks, Hattie Finney Banks, Helen Garcia, Helen James, Mable Palmer, Malcom X, Natural hair, Nzinga Mbande, Nzingha, Queen Seshat Egyptian Goddess of Scribes, Queen Tiye, W.E.B. Du Bois

Nzingha African Warrior Queen & Priestess

Warning! This Post is Not PC. If you get easily offended stop reading now. Contains Brutal Language.

Judges 4-5 New International Version (NIV)

”

⁴Now Deborah, a prophet, the wife of Lappidoth, was leading^[a] Israel at that time. ⁵She held court under the Palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim, and the Israelites went up to her to have their disputes decided. ⁶She sent for Barak son of Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali and said to him, “The Lord, the God of Israel, commands you: ‘Go, take with you ten thousand men of Naphtali and Zebulun and lead them up to Mount Tabor. ⁷I will lead Sisera, the commander of Jabin’s army, with his chariots and his troops to the Kishon River and give him into your hands.’”

⁸Barak said to her, “If you go with me, I will go; but if you don’t go with me, I won’t go.”

⁹“Certainly I will go with you,” said Deborah. “But because of the course you are taking, the honor will not be yours, for the Lord will deliver Sisera into the hands of a woman.” So Deborah went with Barak to Kedesh. ¹⁰There Barak summoned Zebulun and Naphtali, and ten thousand men went up under his command. Deborah also went up with him.”

Matthew 11:12 King James Version (KJV)

¹²And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.

DeBorah The African Warrior Queen

I come with Words of Peace and Praise of Thanksgiving upon my lips

Along with a Sword in my right hand.

Third Eye Opened in the midst of a Changing Life,

I refuse to play the victim any longer!

Pale riders your rule has come to an end. StepandFetchIt and Mammy are long gone. Ethiopia and Nubia Rule once more.

I will defend my Queendom unto death for there be more with me than against me.

Though I be petite in frame, know this my enemies, Don’t sleep on the size!

Victory is mine.

All bullies shall feel sharp cold steel against their necks.

Negotiation has come to an end! This time all abusers shall be repaid 100 fold for their unholy acts.

Never again shall my precious temple of mind and body suffer desecration!

Arise My SiStars!! Arise My Warrior Queens!!

The Thieves shall be banished from my Holy Temple!

Ready for Battle!

Prince ~~ Thieves in the Temple

https://youtu.be/HfGrIaqYK8s?list=PLsgN5r88gaaW8gZbpGmowQdpqEatudZoC

Matthew 21:12-13 New King James Version (NKJV)

Jesus Cleanses the Temple

¹²Then Jesus went into the temple of God^[a] and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. ¹³And He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’^[b] but you have made it a ‘den of thieves.’”

Post Script ~~ Dear Folks of the Caucasian Persuasion. Do Not Touch my Hair. This is not a petting zoo. Do not ask me stupid questions like, “Do you comb your hair?” Do Not compare my braids, locs or cornrows to Medusa and I won’t say anything about your wrinkles, age spots or your open audacity and stupidity to think you can come up to any random Black person that you don’t know and just spew the first idiotic thing that issues forth from that pie hole in the middle of your face. And No you Do Not have the right to become offended if I call you out on your arrogance and foolishness. Keep your ignorant racist sexist dumb words and attitude to yourself! Don’t get it Twisted. Mammy and StepAndFetchIt are long gone. In fact do me a favor. Shut the Fuck Up and stop commenting on my appearance! Don’t Fuck with the African Goddess! I am a Proud Uppity Black Woman with Attitude. Don’t you forget it.

Let Me Call You Sweetheart

On February 17, 2015February 24, 2015 By dancingpalmtreesIn DeBorah Ann Palmer, Edward Gordon Palmer, Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer, Let Me Call You Sweetheart, Mable Elizabeth Palmer, Stephen Vincent Palmer, William Junius Palmer5 Comments

Music Box

I have my Grandmother’s (Eva Palmer) music sewing box that plays “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” The music box that my Dad brought home after my Grandmother’s funeral. The same music box passed down to me after my Dad died. Where it will go when I’m gone is known only to God since I never married nor had children.

My grandparents were married in 1919 until my grandfather William Palmer died around 1962 or 1963. My grandmother passed away around 1964 or 1965. I was very young so I don’t remember much about her but I Love her musical sewing box and wind up it every so often just to hear that lovely melody. In my mind’s eye I can still see the brownstone in Harlem where they lived. If I think very quietly and carefully I can envision all the rooms and marveling at my perception of largeness and space. Then it fades away to St. Albans, Queens and the house on 115th Road where I grew up. A house that shrank after my parents deaths. Too many memories crowding in on each other so I sold it in 2000.

My parents Edward & Mable Palmer were married for 40 years from 1955 to 1995 when my Dad passed away. My Mom went to join him in 1998.

Marriage was very serious to both my grandparents and parents. It was not a trial run or something to be thrown away or cast aside like we see now. Eva Gordon was my Grandfather’s second wife as his first wife had passed away. There was a big age gap between them as my Grandfather William Palmer was in or near his 40s and I would guess my Grandmother to be maybe 20 or 21 at the time of their marriage.

Grandma Eva's Music Sewing box — Grandma Eva’s Music Sewing box

All of my grandmothers boy children died from polio except my Dad Edward Gordon Palmer. I can’t even begin to imagine giving birth yet not knowing whether or how long your children would live. I guess that’s why people had so many kids in the 1910s, 1920s & 1930s. There were so many diseases and no vaccines that it was a miracle if a child lived beyond toddlerhood.

Grandfather William Palmer with 4 of his children at Mt. Morris Park in 1926. My Dad is not in the photo because he was not born until 1930.

Fast forward to December 1955 when my parents Edward and Mable Palmer married. I was born first then my brother Stephen came along in May 1961. By 1963 Stephen was age two and had not spoken a word. Doctors back then labeled Stephen “emotionally disturbed” and advised my parents to put him away in an institution. My parents Did Not take the doctors advice but took their son back home, loved him, raised him and taught him as much as they could. For those of you who remember the horrors of Willowbrook you know why my parents could never do that to Stephen. Today Stephen works and has an active social life.

I say all this about my family history to point out that marriage is no Garden Party. You take the good and the bad the better and the worse and yes in sickness and in health. Love is not all the sappy romances we read about in books or see on TV or in the movies. Love is the real world. Real Life. Where there are no guarantees but many unseen rewards.