tonka bean cheesecake was requested so I did a tonka bean & passion fruit cheesecake cupcake with lemon basil

My next luxe skincare X giveaway is Clarins' Fresh Scrub, a refreshing cream scrub with beads of natural origin. To enter, follow @davelackie & RT #win (ends 05/08)

My next luxe beauty X giveaway is Clinique High Impact High-Fi Volume Mascara - ideal of anyone with sensitive skin or eyes. To enter, follow @davelackie & RT #win (ends 04/10)

My grandma is 68 and finished this quilt yesterday. My always rude grandpa said it looks like “a mess of colors”, now she's upset but i said i would post it here and she would know how amazing her work is....

Jereem Richards should be a national treasure for Trinidad & Tobago. What a consistent guy.

The boy's parents picking him up from school dressed as Superman and Superwoman

My daughter poured her heart into this school project . A bit of support would mean everything to her.

Prayer for miracles, blessings and breakthroughs

A beautiful life moment. 🥰 The much beloved school janitor received the surprise of his life from faculty and students. His wife is in the hospital fighting cancer and they all came together to do something to them help out. 🥹❤️

15-year-old Heman Bekele from Ethiopia 🇪🇹 was named TIME magazine's Kid of the Year 2025 in the USA and awarded $25,000. He invented a soap that could help treat skin cancer. He is a source of pride to the government in Addis Ababa.

I will never stop reminiscing about this day 🥹🤍 THAT’S MY HUSBAND ✨

My daughter poured her heart into this school project . A bit of support would mean everything to her.

A beautiful prayer for the day!

Let’s pray if you are not too busy . God our father we lift up our hands and bring Baby Ty before you asking for healing over him in Jesus name Amen Read the massage his mom is asking us to pray , Baby Ty is in a critical condition pls join in the prayers 👇 💔 Baby Ty Emergency Update 💔 Today has taken a turn I never wanted to face. We are now taking end-of-life precautions for my sweet Warrior King. My heart is shaking, but I’m holding him close and keeping him as comfortable, peaceful, and loved as possible. I’m asking everyone to please keep Baby Ty lifted in the strongest prayers. Surround my baby with love, light, and protection. This is a moment no mother should ever have to walk through, but I’m standing beside my Tiny King with every breath I have. Thank you for loving him, supporting him, and praying over him the way you all do. Please keep us in your hearts right now. 💔😭🤞🏾👑

IF YOU ARE BLACK... PLEASE, PAUSE... AND HONOUR! LET'S HONOUR MIDWIFE AND Doctor of NURSING PRACTICE. JANELL GREEN SMITH. She fought against Maternal Mortality so much. Sadly, She would die of birth complications after the birth of her first child 😭😭😭... She died Jan 2... this year! I'm honestly pained😭😭😭

My mother-in-law said my quilt looks like a thrift store threw up on my bed, and I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life. It took me two years to make this. Every single square is a different fabric, most of them from clothes my kids outgrew, old curtains, or tablecloths I found at estate sales. That orange floral print in the corner was my daughter’s first Easter dress. The dark blue paisley came from my husband’s shirt from our first date—the one with the torn pocket he refused to throw away until I finally cut it up for this. My mother-in-law came over last week, took one look at my bedroom, and said, “It’s very busy, isn’t it?” in that tone she uses when she really means this is hideous and you have terrible taste. She said her quilts are all coordinated, matching fabrics, professional-looking. Said mine looks chaotic. She’s right. It is chaotic. It’s every phase of my life stitched together—squares that don’t match, colors that clash on purpose, patterns that argue with each other. I learned to quilt from YouTube videos at midnight after everyone went to sleep, pricking my fingers until they bled because I couldn’t figure out how to use a thimble properly. I bought most of the backing fabric from someone’s destash sale online—eight yards of the perfect dark floral for twenty dollars. I found binding supplies online too, from a woman who quit quilting after her divorce and just wanted it all gone. We ended up messaging about our projects, and she showed me how to do proper mitered corners and sent me links to other quilters online who sell vintage fabric scraps. My mother-in-law’s coordinated quilts sit in her linen closet, wrapped in plastic. Mine is on my bed every single night, covered in dog hair and coffee stains and the weight of every memory I sewed into it. Cheesy or not, it’s the most honest thing I’ve ever made. Credit - Elisa Rogers

"My name's Claudette. I'm 71. I drive the number 9 school bus, same route for sixteen years. Pick up kids at 7 a.m., drop them at school, repeat at 3 p.m. Most days it's just noise, backpacks, and asking kids to sit down forty times. But I see patterns. Like the boy in seat 14 who started getting on with wet hair every morning. Then soaking wet clothes. Then barefoot one day in October. I pulled over. "Sweetie, where are your shoes?" He looked down, embarrassed. "Water got shut off at home. Can't shower. My shoes got moldy." Nine years old. Walking to the bus stop barefoot because his single dad lost his job and couldn't pay the water bill. I drove to Walmart after my route. Bought him shoes. Size 3. Left them on his seat the next morning with a note, "Found these on the bus. Must be yours." He wore them every day after that. But then I noticed others. Girl wearing the same stained shirt three days straight. Boy who never brought lunch, stomach growling so loud I could hear it from the driver's seat. Kids who smelled unwashed, kids with holes in their backpacks. So I started keeping things on the bus. A plastic bin under my seat. Clean socks. Granola bars. Soap. Deodorant. Hair ties. School supplies. I'd leave items on seats like I "found" them. Kids would take them quietly, never asking questions. Parents started noticing. One mom stopped me. "My daughter came home with new crayons. She said you found them on the bus." I nodded. "Lost and found." She cried. "We can't afford school supplies right now. Thank you for not making her feel poor." Word spread somehow. Other parents started leaving things. Backpacks. Jackets. Lunch boxes. "For the bus lost and found," they'd say. I'd distribute them to kids who needed them. Then something bigger happened. The boy with the shoes, his name's Tyler, his dad got hired at a factory. First paycheck, he brought me $40. "For the lost and found," he said. "So other kids can find things too." Now there's a whole system. A "bus pantry" at the school. Supplied by families who can, used by families who can't. No applications. No proof of need. Kids just take what they need from the bin, like finding lost items. Other bus drivers started doing it. Twelve drivers in the district now. Feeding kids. Clothing kids. Giving them dignity disguised as coincidence. I'm 71. I drive a yellow bus full of loud children. But I learned this, poverty rides the school bus every single day. It sits in seat 14, seat 22, seat 7. And most people never see it because hungry kids get really good at hiding. So pay attention. On buses, in classrooms, at pickup lines. Some child is barefoot. Some child is hungry. Some child needs someone to "find" exactly what they're missing. Stock a bin. Leave supplies. Make poverty look like luck. Because no child should feel ashamed for needing shoes." . Let this story reach more hearts.... . Credit - unknown

RT @ilmakiage: "I feel like I don't even have any lines. It's crazy. I'm shocked. I've tried all the makeup, all the skincare. But nothing…

Visualize where you want to go and other tidbits from Stockton Street @Venuseswilliams

Black folks reach 100 and look like they are like a solid 79. God bless ya great granny.