my Josebella

Her body is tired.

She is brave. She is beautiful .

She created  an environment  full of love

Despite .

The youngest of thirteen . If I remember  correctly .

Named after her deceased old sister.

She didn’t  speak until she was six years old.

The mother  of five of her own.

Her heart is ninety  five years old .

The machine .

It has  processed  so much .

So much more  than I could even fathom.


Every day she prays  and gives thanks


every  day  she loves  each  and every  one  of us.

Something  perhaps ,  we all should  do.

She has seen  change ,

the strongest ,bravest woman  I will ever  know.

Being  born in a time  , in a  village ,

Before  light  bulbs  and  running  water

Through  to a time when  she can look into a metal and  plastic  box, to speak  in real time with her great granddaughter  …..

Marrying  for love ,  in a time when that was not always acceptable . Brave.

Living through  a air raids with young children,

walking  them miles to companga,in the dead of night, strained  by illness ,  malaria  i think she said. So they could  be  safe.. her young husband  at war .

loving, strong.

Sending  her daughters  and  husband  off on a ship  to a foreign  land, not knowing  how and when, she would  EVER  see them again . But knowing ,  she would ,


To then, be a solo mother  to three young boys. Loving

There was no wifi… no quick call to check in.

Loving … strong.

Packing her life,and her three boys and two  years later  getting  on another  ship  to sail  across  the  ocean .  To an unknown  world , ….


Starting  a new  life  in a new world  for better  things for  her children. Leaving her own  parents and siblings , some she  was never  able to see again .    Learning  a new language , creating  a  new support  system. Finally  finding  work, SURVIVING , to give your  children  a better life , regardless of her comfort.


Surviving .

Burying her husband and children  though illness  and tragedy

Raising her grandchildren .


Extending open  arms to all those  who  came here  after her…. To help make their arrival  more comfortable .



So,  twenty  years  ago

She asked  me how  I   could  be so brave… so strong . ..

To drive across a country   (where I spoke the language  ), by myself . ..

I just  laughed… I told her  these things.

I said them all   to her .

I am  happy  that  I did.

“Josebella ,” I  said , “I don’t  even  begin  to  be as brave and strong as you.”

She  is human .  She  is  love.

I was “brave”…for  fun… for work… for adventure . .

Because , I get itchy feet , and like to travel.

My Josebella  was brave for love .



Outside,There is so much wrong going on.
Inside me, there is so much right going on.
Outside, I want to scream/meditate/physically OPEN people’s eyes and make them blind.

to see humans with compassion and humanity.


(Blind like justice is supposed to be.)

I want to say nothing at all.
And rewind to the silent movies of my memory. ..
And show them,
the obsidian of this country…

Stories my mother told
Of bus trips south
of Chicago
of Newburgh
And conflicted,
The color blind silent movies of my childhood.
You see, the “grown ups” had the “problem”.
[I often wonder now,as an adult , if the bitch who called my mother about me riding bikes with my best friend would have been more freaked out that she is not only a different skin pigment, but a lesbian]

When I was a child, grown ups called threatening my home. Because of our inability to see pigment.
Because they lived in a fear based place.
Because we live with out it.

That was over thirty years ago.
This makes me

What has society not learned a fucking thing from the past?

something needs to change.
Maybe this is the uncomfortable busting out of the cocoon?

People got shot tonight in Newburgh.

Ignorance was glowing like molten lava over social media.

WHY is it so quick to spew
To spread?
Why does it solidify and stay?

I feel guilty.
for personally, having a wonderful week.
Really , I have had a pretty wonderful year.

I am going on the trip of a lifetime next week, and I am over-the-moon-beyond excited. I am so gratefully fortunate, not just for the trip,
but because
I found me again,
and all the blessings that come with it.
For this, there was an uncomfortable, not so pretty, ‘busting out of the cocoon’ period.

I pray, this is where this country is now.
I pray , it is over soon. Change has got to come.
I have prayed for this before. I believe I learned it from my mother.

This time things will change,
This time humanity will overcome,
Tomorrows will be better, different.

And i don’t know how to feel.

They don’t balance each other out.
My best friend, asks me what’s wrong, he can tell.
He lives some where else…
Daily life is different.

Protests are not happening ,
People are not being killed.
Not like here.
Not with the ignorance, not with the hate.

I will continue, to see glasses as half full. To spread, what is inherently in my soul. A change IS going to come, it has to.

All lives matter.
We need more.

Ripping the bandaid off. A little about me.

Well, this is me, Buffey Maria Favata, ripping the bandaid off. With the longest case of writers block I can remember. {My mother is the author, not me.} But I am sitting in a health food store, sucking up the wifi, and well, because I am not a Starbucks fan, this is where these things happen!

This is my blog. I am starting it for personal and professional reasons.

Before either of us goes any further there are things you should know.

I curse. If this troubles you, leave now.

I am me, always have been. I may conjure from time to time. Some days it may be Lucrezia Borgia ‘ s Chef d ‘ patisserie, other days maybe Spielberg’s secretary and still maybe even Dame Cicely Saunders’ chauffeur. I have seriously been called ‘beavis’ And ‘yoda’, by the same people, more than once. A very good psychic told me in my first lifetime I was a teenaged South American warrior/soldier who died gallantly during a battle in the jungle. Perhaps this can explain the some of the things I find funny. ..I was, after a teenaged boy! One day I wish to conjure Rodin’s lacky. I really want to be better at clay.

We may get to my resume later. It is nice to finally be old enough to have all of it believable. There is always work boots and a little black dress in my jeep for a reason.

What works for me, works for me.

People often question my diet and habits. I will share them with you. But you may need some tweeking for it to work for you.

I believe every body is different. This may mean each person needs a different fuel, gastronomicly, emotionally and physically.

My words, are just words.

What I have learned from my experiences. I certainly will not know everything before I die, I can only learn, as much as I can, before then.

I like to be held accountable. And will gladly help you stay accountable to. Just ask.

I am far from perfect. But i am perfect, for me now. As you are for you. And if you disagree, change it. There is no magic pill.

I learned recently, that people think I judge them based on my own practices. Um, no.. I have too much shit to worry about. Yes, I think you probably need to eat more veggies, or go for a walk, or meditate.. but I enjoy these things and know they are good for me. It doesn’t mean I think you are lesser person because you don’t do them.

If you want help, just ask. But love yourself enough to stick with it.

At one point in my life, was seriously sick ultimately because of anger and stress, and I swore to myself I would never be in that place again. So you probably won’t find a bitch fest here.

I do get grumpy, bitchy, and oh! How I can rant!(and I probably will from time to time) But…I like to try and be positive, it’s healthier for me.

My family means the world to me, by blood and gratefully added members of my tribe, I am blessed and love you all. Thank you for putting up with my, well, me.

I have never given birth. Yet, I have had the honour to help raise many children. You may find some child rearing notions here as well.

And as for taste.
Yes, there will be recipes and remedies. But there is more to me than that!

This is me. Diving in head first. A pinch of what you may see, a taste of what could be to come.