Yesterday, Wednesday, November 26, 2025, I worked from 07:15 AM until 2:00 PM, and my Fall Break began right as I clocked out! I plan on doing my fair share of resting, relaxing, writing, reading, working out, and watching movies. For the holiday, I will cook braised BBQ beef & onions, seafood salad, & baked cabbage with onions & Roma tomatoes. I will also have Hawaiian sweet rolls.
I am inviting peace, quiet, reflection, love, and a stress-free day to my doorstep. If anything does not align with those things, it will have to be removed from my space.
If you intend to celebrate Thanksgiving Day, may you enjoy it to the fullest with minimal to no drama, good food, family, and football (or your favorite movies). If you do not wish to celebrate the holiday, may you have all the peace, love, good food, great TV, and good reading on the itinerary.
Regardless of anything, though, may all of you be safe. Happy Fall Break, everyone!
Peace and blessings.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
Lately, I’ve been reading books that are seeping into my soul, spreading throughout my body, and settling into my marrow. There is nothing like reading a damn good book that strengthens you throughout the read, and begs you to sit with it for a while longer than you initially planned to. Let Me Write This Gently, My Baby by Lisa Marrie Lovett (Seasoned Dialogue on all platforms) does exactly that.
A spoken word poet, speaker, and influencer (amongst other things), Lisa lures the reader in with her gentle sayings that come wrapped in love, but with Mama’s sternness, and lets you know she means exactly what is being said to you. In every word shared within these pages, there is love, kindness, encouragement, testimonies, and a subtle bite to remind the reader that the author can get feisty if she has to. I appreciated everything this book has to offer, and I am blessed to have had a friendgift it to me a couple of months ago.
Below is the review of it that I shared on Amazon and Goodreads:
I Sat With This Book As If It Were My North Star
And that isn’t to say that it steered me along the right path every single time I opened it up, no I am saying this because the journey was a much-needed one. It came at the right time, and as a gift, too.
Sometimes, we need wisdom to glide to us in other forms, and when it is laced as poetry and literary art, for the written word creative, that is a blessing.
To connect with another human being’s words when you’re hungry for peace is soulspeak on an entirely different level.
Lisa Marie Lovett is in fact, “Seasoned Dialogue”, everything about this book screams teacher, poet, writer, experienced, a work in progress, blessed, and willing to learn. “Knowledge is infinite”, and within these pages, there is plenty of it shared with the reader.
I intend to read this book many more times, especially when life becomes far too heavy to carry or is cloaked in evil that I cannot fight alone.
Let Me Write This Gently, My Baby is a testimony that will continue to confess for many years to come.
If you’re a lover of poetry and looking for a book full of spoken word and poems that will nestle up next to you and spend a few nights in your head, this book is for you. The flow is smooth, succinct, flawless, and seamless, without a single hiccup. I appreciate the literary artistry on every page, and I am sure you will do the same.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
A cartoonized version of Jernee Timid, derived from an original photo I took of her several years ago. Google Gemini is the AI tool I used to convert the image.
Just after work yesterday, I took the body to a place we enjoyed for months—our sister imaging center, to visit with previous co-workers and staff there. My friend’s mother—eager to see my smiling face, and offer a hug that said to me, “You may not be mine, but you are mine,” awakened my heart’s pain.
The elders, as they often do, check on us when we need it most. The way she tilted her head and asked, “How are you doing?” could not have prepared me for what would take place next. I knew what she meant. I knew how she meant it. And when your name fell from her lips, the tears fell from my eyes.
I apologized as I am wont to do when my emotions take over, and she held up her hand to me and shook her head No… ”I asked you. I want to know. Don’t you dare apologize for feeling, Tre.” And I heard the bass in her voice, attempted to tighten up, but also loosen up, too.
It’s still unreal talking about you and not coming home to you. There are far too many reminders, and so many people who knew you. Everywhere I turn, sadness is waiting to string me along. I hate that this is now what clutters my heart—that I have made space for pain of this magnitude, and it shifts only when it is good and ready.
At the mention of your name, I become puddles that plough through the depths of powerful grief—I wade accordingly, searching for a shore that will envelop me and keep me safe. I can no longer run to you for a sense of security. You don’t crawl into my lap for warmth or stand at the entrance of our bedroom, waiting for me to exit.
You’re in so many places that make up who I am, and erasing you was never a plan—but keeping you in all those spaces is running over me. And if I can be completely honest with you, I did not prepare for you to live and die, and live again.
And for me to live and die, and try to live again.
When I first started blogging on WordPress, I moved away from Blogger and created my first blog here EONS ago. I cannot remember the name of it, nor do I recall the domain, either. About three years later, I hosted two more blogs: one for my personal writing and another for writing directly related to Jernee Timid. Again, I do not recall the names of those blogs or their domain names. What I do know is this… I have not had any major issues with WordPress. It has always felt like a family affair, and I can pretty much keep the trolls and nonsense at bay on this platform, and for that, I will forever be grateful.
We have our own little private/public spaces on the internet, and the community never ceases to amaze me. I’m pretty sure I’ll be on WordPress until the rickety wheels of this platform fall off. Nineteen years is a long time to express oneself on the same platform, and I intend to do it for many more years to come.
Thank you to all of you who have connected with me, read my work regularly, and appreciate what I bring to this community. I am so enamored by all of you and your patience, time, and dedication to art in literary or visual form. We make this community what it is.
AI-Generated Image: A Black woman with locs wearing glasses and a knitted hat, standing in front of a mirror.
the mirror doesn’t lie
the mirror shows it all; you cannot hide from yourself, even if you want to.
I joke with myself occasionally, “wherever you go, there you are,” so I’m stuck with me, and the older I get, I want to be with ME more.
my heart needs the love I’m giving it. my mind deserves the peace I’m giving it.
it is joy to surround oneself with beautiful gifts that enhance our every waking moment.
I’m walking alongside a human being who hid behind shadows and the covers of hoodies for decades, and I finally realize…
she is undeniably unique and incomparable, and I adore her.
I want more of her.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
Photo by Reba Spike on Unsplash. The image depicts a fluffy tabby cat floating through the air. It appears the cat is suspended in midair by ten red heart-shaped foil helium balloons, the strings of which can be seen near his midsection. The sky in the background is a deep blue, with clouds scattered throughout.
“Kinley Chris, you see that fat cat anywhere down there? Grandma said it rushed outta the art room after knockin’ over her famous vase, and now I can’t find it nowheres!”
Wayne Donald shouts from the top of their ancient staircase down to her sister near the basement. She is standing on her tiptoes with her right hand on her hip, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.
“Wayne Donald, girl, you better stop that yellin’ at the top of them stairs like that before Grandma come huntin’ for ya. I don’t see that fat cat down here, and it shouldn’t come this far anyway. Check the bedrooms and then the two guest bathrooms. It’ll probably pop up again when it’s supper time.
Wayne Donald searches each guest bathroom, bedroom, and then circles back around to the staircase, wandering down the hall toward their grandmother’s bedroom. With each step, she grows curiously curiouser as to where their tabby could be.
“Bruce Dennis! You fat cat, where are ya? BRUCE D-E-N-N-I-S!!! Where are ya, Bruce Dennis?”
Just like the girls, their fluffy and pleasantly plump tabby cat is double-named with what most people would consider a name fit for a man; however, the cat is female. On a somber and stormy night, the cat, who was then a kitten, found its way to their front door. The girls heard something scratching at it lightly. They begged their grandmother to walk to the door with them to see who it could be. When they peeled back the squeaky door, to their surprise, the kitten sat there with the most pitiful look on its face. The girls pleaded to keep it, and their grandmother approved.
They screamed names back and forth until finally, Kinley Chris chose the name Bruce, and Wayne Donald selected Dennis. Their grandmother nodded and tutted them with her hand to get the girls out of her hair. Bruce Dennis had become a part of their family.
“Bruce Dennis! Brucie! Where is that cat?”
Wayne Donald walked deeper into the bowels of her grandmother’s bedroom and slowly approached the old window. Upon looking outside, she gasped. Hanging at least 450 feet in the air was Bruce Dennis, tied to a bundle of red balloons. Wayne Donald almost fainted.
“Kinley Chris! Get up here right now! I say, get on up here!” She took a moment to breathe and then scolded Bruce Dennis for being outside. “Bruce Dennis! Now, how in God’s holy name did you get out there? Where’d you get them balloons?! KINLEY CHRIS!!! I SAY, GET UP HERE NOW!”
Kinely Chris raced up the stairs, taking them by two, and ran to their grandmother’s bedroom. If she had been any faster, smoke would be at her heels.
“Wayne Donald, I declare, you’d better have somethin’ serious for me callin’ my name like you The Law.” Wayne Donald looked at her big sister, her big come-hither eyes stretching wide as the Nile River. She huffed and pointed to the window.
“Kinley Chris, you just go on and look out that there window. You just look. Bruce Dennis is floatin’ up toward heaven.”
“Bruce Dennis is doing WHAT?!”
The girls stood at the window, both of them flabbergasted by the scene before them, and shocked at just how peaceful their fat cat appeared. They looked at each other and within seconds knew exactly what to do…
“GRANDMA, BRUCE DENNIS IS ALL RED BALLOONED OUT AND IS ON HER WAY UP TO HEAVEN!”
Their grandmother sat peacefully in her art room, playing her jazz records and tapping her feet. She tutted the girls silently to herself and shooed their summoning with her hand.
When I realized that Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction was finally live on Amazon, I began searching for how to link my books to an author page, which happens to be Amazon’s Author Central hub. I entered my name and linked all three of my books to my account. For something as simple as this, it created a most accomplished feeling within me, I will not lie. I have waited for what seemed like forever for Amazon to host and distribute Séduire, so I am going to celebrate this fact for an extremely long time.
And in true follower fashion,Goodreads successfully pulled Séduire and began hosting it there for readers to review. Naturally, I became compelled to create an author page there, too, and that’s exactly what I did. However, Goodreads’ process is a bit more involved, and it took about four days for me to get them to review, validate, and approve my authorship. With Goodreads, my profile was under Tre L. Loadholt, and all of my books are published under Tremaine Loadholt. Once I had everything settled with them and proof of my name and the author’s website email address validated, I received the congratulatory email welcoming me to Goodreads as an official author.
And there you have it!
If you have purchased any of my books throughout the years, I want to thank you sincerely from the bottom of my heart. If you have not purchased Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction yet, perhaps this is the right time to do so, if you feel so inclined. For those of you willing to review it, I welcome that as well; good, bad, or indifferent.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
A Cornered Gurl 
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