Author Archives: Nicole Boyhouse

Taco Tuesday and Toasters

Posted on by

Last Friday, I came across a Jimmy Kimmel clip and realized something quite shocking: in the world of emojis, “eggplant” is code for “penis,” “peach” is code for “ass,” and “taco” is code for “vagina,” which makes all those recipes I’ve posted, complete with cutesy emojis, kind of offensive. When I realized this, I heard from one person who went so far as to say that she had NEVER seen anyone use those particular emojis for the food which they are modeled after. In other words, all those Taco Tuesday posts take on a very different meaning from what I had intended.

I feel like one of those old people who use “LOL” as “Lots of Love!” and who horrify their children by saying they want to Netflix and Chill with the whole family. After all, it was a mere six months ago when my dear friend Allison (HI ALLISON) tipped me off as to the Netflix and Chill meaning, and who really knows what hip new saying I will find out is a horrifying double entendre in another six months. After all, I’ve been using eggplants and chili peppers all over the place ever since such emojis were made available to me.

In other exciting news, we got a new toaster this weekend. I had been waiting for my old toaster to die for years. I hated it immediately; it was so finicky with the dial that the slightest movement would take the bread from the “dry bread” stage to the “completely burnt and inedible” stage within seconds. Toasting one slice of bread only was a complete act of faith, and the “Cancel” button never worked, so that when I could see the toast going into the “OMG it is going to burn” stage my only option was to unplug it. When it died this weekend I actually cheered. The great satisfaction I have for our new toaster is matched only by the satisfaction I got from getting it 40% off on Bay Days, and makes me think that I probably could have done this sooner.

I read a piece this weekend entitled “Memo to parents: Your adult children don’t want your stuff.” The premise was this: we all have our own style and tastes, and limited space, and we don’t want to fill that limited space with your “heirlooms.” The whole piece gave me massively mixed feelings; as someone who lives in a small bungalow that is entirely filled with my own furniture and artwork of my own taste, I understand the author’s point of view.

But on the other hand, it really made me sad. It made me sad to think about people of my grandparents’ generation, saving up to buy something good and lasting, and then have no one want it. And I get it, I really do, but I still think it’s sad. People are not their things, and the world is about more than just possessions, but still. I have a few things that belonged to my grandmothers, and I treasure them very much.

In terms of our old toaster, I held onto it because I didn’t want to waste money on a new one when the old one still worked, however substandardly, but I also knew that it wouldn’t last forever. Things are made to be disposable now, more’s the pity. My mother-in-law still has the chest freezer that she had when she was first married; they just celebrated their 54th wedding anniversary. Back then, things didn’t get thrown out. Now, we are lucky if our washing machine lasts more than five years, or if our dishwasher doesn’t need to be replaced twice in a decade.

Part of what I think is sad is that there is a huge disconnect in thinking between generations. Back in our grandparents’ day, you took pride in your possessions, and you assumed you would pass them on when you died. Part of that was because our grandparents didn’t really have much in the way of “stuff.” Today, we have way too much stuff, and we take great joy not in passing it along to beloved family members, but getting rid of it in trash bags at the Goodwill. So it is an entirely new way of thinking, in this world of more, more, more.

Of course, the dark side of taking great care of and pride in your possessions is the propensity to not use it. I was thinking of this when I read my friend Swistle’s (HI SWISTLE) post about using the “good stuff.” How many of us have boxes of things that we never use because they are too precious? I have my grandmother’s china, a full set, that was given to her on her 40th anniversary. It was saved for me, the only granddaughter on that side, and given to me at my wedding shower. It is absolutely precious to me, it is beautiful, I love it, I am happy to have it, and yet, I never use it. Each piece is carefully wrapped up and stored.

This. This is ridiculous. Why DON’T I use it? I should not need an occasion to use the beautiful china. Sure, I don’t have the cupboard space to store it properly, but wouldn’t it make an everyday dinner kind of special, and worth the effort? I don’t even need to worry about it getting broken because I cannot remember the last time one of my children broke a plate or anything. And if it did get broken, at least it would be used and enjoyed.

But here’s the thing: life is brief and fleeting and we shouldn’t waste it eating substandard toast, so to speak. My husband has given me two beautiful diamond rings; one is an anniversary ring for our tenth, and the other is a solitaire for my 40th birthday. They are fancy and yet I wear them almost every day, taking them off only for gardening or rolling out cookie dough or similar. They make me feel happy and sparkly. If we have pretty clothes, or expensive shoes, or a gorgeous handbag, why should these things hide in our closet when we could use them every day and make ourselves feel fabulous? What are we saving these things for? If our generation is indicative of future generations, no one will want these things when we die so we might as well use them now. How sad would it be to die with boxes of super-fancy soap and unused guest towels? So let’s agree to drink the wine, use the truffle oil, and set out the china for pizza night. Or Taco Tuesday.

When I am 41, I shall wear purple.

Posted on by

Here’s a PSA for you: the Alberta government no longer sends out renewal notices for car registration or driver’s license updates. Now, this is a bit of a moot point for me since I haven’t received a renewal notice for YEARS. Each time I go to the registry office, they tell me it was returned because of “address unknown,” and yet, my address is correct in the system and always has been. This is a mystery that has never been solved. Address correct. Postal code correct. Renewal notice received? No. At one point I had the hypothesis that perhaps it was delivered to the wrong address, and the recipient decided not to drop it at my house but instead marked it “Return To Sender.” However, this has happened too many years in a row, for that and only that document, and so I think that hypothesis is incorrect. But what is the answer? No one seems to know.

In any case, it doesn’t matter now. A friend emailed our circle to remind us that renewal notices are no longer mailed out, which was a timely reminder for me. Both my license and registration were about to expire, and so today I popped over to the registry office – where the lady helpfully mentioned that my renewal notice was returned as “undeliverable” – and took care of business. Mercy, I forgot how awful it is to get a driver’s license photo. Passport photos are worse, to be sure, but my new driver’s license photo makes me look like a cross between the crypt keeper and Lizzy Borden.

I’ve been a bit tired this week, which is hell on my undereye circles. In retrospect it would have been better to get a photograph done after a great night’s sleep, but what can you do. Fortunately it’s in black and white, so my grey roots will not be as obvious.

Speaking of grey roots and undereye circles, my birthday is coming up! Last weekend we went to my parents’ house to celebrate, and my mom took me shopping as a birthday gift. Among other things, she purchased me a flowy, long, beautiful, PURPLE wrap. It’s very pretty, and did I mention it’s purple? I know. I KNOW. I wore it yesterday on a field trip, and I had a few girls tell me that “my purple cape was very pretty.” Aw! My boys, as well, had nothing but compliments for it, and they are not the kind of kids who notice what I’m wearing at any given time. I’m trying to wear colour slightly more often, even if I do feel like a bit of a peacock when I wear something other than black or grey. I did wear a black top underneath the wrap, in an attempt at normalcy.

And yes! That’s two field trips in five days, which includes the weekend. The field trip was the same as the one last week – the Police Interpretive Centre – so at least it was interesting and engaging. It was almost exactly the same in content, but this class forewent the “Bullying” module in favour of the “Drugs” one. I worried that it might be a bit old for the class, but it turns out it wasn’t at all. It was “scare them off of drugs” without being nightmare-inducing.

The field trips are done for the year now, which means I did it! Some of you may recall that this was my goal for the school year; since giving up my responsibilities as School Council/ Parent Association chair, I had decided I would volunteer more in the classroom and on field trips. Every opportunity that arose I took it, and I’m so glad I did. I’ve realized that Grades Five and Six are actually fun to go on field trips with: they mostly stay on task, they stay together, and they are fairly responsible. No one tries to run away or get separated from the group, everyone makes an attempt to complete the assignment at hand. And I even get my ego stroked with compliments on my outfit! It doesn’t get much better than that. Mental note: for next year’s field trips, wear purple wrap.

Thumper’s mother was right.

Posted on by

Last night was Orientation Night for my yoga teacher training and oh, you guys. You guys, I am so excited. I haven’t felt this way for YEARS. I remember picking up my university calendar to choose classes for each semester, and then I would go through the syllabus of each class and it never failed – NEVER FAILED – to thrill me. Everything about university was exciting for me; all the course outlines, all the new information, everything. Now I feel that same, beginning-of-the-school-year excitement, and I just can’t wait to get started. I’m taking it slow because, well, life, but for the next three months I’ll be studying anatomy, yoga spirituality, Ayurveda, and Sanskrit. YOU GUYS I AM SO EXCITED. It turns out I am the same keener nerd that I always was because even the thought of doing the pre-reading is thrilling to me.

I have to settle down a bit though, because I can feel my competitive, Type A nature coming out a teensy bit, in a I am going to CRUSH this kind of way, which is not a very yogic way of thinking. Hey, we are all works in progress, right? There’s nothing wrong with taking the course seriously since I really do want to teach afterwards. Not everyone who takes yoga teacher training actually wants to teach, which is cool. But teaching is in my ultimate plan, so I shall embrace my serious student nature.

Yesterday was an especially hectic day since I was on a field trip for the whole day with Mark’s class. We went to the Police Interpretive Centre and let me tell you, it was the best field trip I’ve ever been on by far. The leaders were engaging, the information was relevant and timely, and all of the displays were very interactive and interesting. I get to do it all over again next week with Jake’s class, and I am looking forward to it. Looking forward. To a field trip. That’s how good it was!

PIC_bathroom

They also had this sign in the washroom, and all I can say is “Strongly Agree.”

The morning featured a forensics lab, where the children were shown how detectives solve crimes using fingerprints, footprints, lasers, blood splatters, maggots versus flies, and composite sketches. It sounds a bit morbid but it was extremely well done and sensitive. The children also got to learn about the K9 unit, and I found out that they choose puppies based on how much a puppy loves a ball. If the puppy won’t give up a ball, or won’t stop looking for a ball, that is the puppy that they want in training. Each dog on the K9 unit had its own profile, and I loved looking at the random facts: favourite snack, favourite place to be scratched, favourite TV show (how do they know?), how often the dog is bathed.

The afternoon was all about online safety, bullying, and healthy relationships. Grade 5/6 is the perfect age for these discussions, in my opinion. There was a lot of discussion around this and also about making good decisions. The bullying unit had me thinking about an incident that happened a few years back to a colleague of mine. She had a similar Twitter handle to another woman, and they both had a similar blogging niche. This other woman – who had many thousands of followers – took umbrage that my colleague had the gall to have a similar name to her, and started writing terrible things about her. Her thousands of followers/ sheep started tweeting equally awful things and some were really scary. A few people were particularly threatening, in a “I hope I see that bitch at x convention so I can cut her” kind of way. It was quite terrifying and also unbelievable, that a grown woman would act this way about someone else on the internet.

Unbelievable, and yet believable. The anonymity of the internet is a weird thing. Just yesterday, a friend posted on Facebook about her child bringing home a great report card. Yay for good report cards, right? Well, no. Because there was a strange string of commentary about how report cards have no meaning and the world is going to be ruined by these children and their useless report cards. Wait, what? At what point do we think it’s okay to take someone’s celebration and shit all over it? We talk so much about bullying and behaviour of our children, but some people apparently transcend these social conventions. There is ONE response to someone’s good news, and that is congratulations. I am happy for you. If you cannot say that, then do not say anything at all.

Practicing non-attachment, except when it comes to clothes.

Posted on by

Have you ever had one of those weekends where you are just so super-productive and motivated that you find you are marvelling at yourself? That was me, this weekend. I don’t know if it’s a Spring Cleaning Urge or a Nesting Without The Pregnancy thing, but I just had that feeling that I needed to Do All The Things. I probably would have accomplished even more, had it not been for the necessity of meal preparation and sleep. I had one of those wash the windows, scrub down the kitchen cupboards, clean every possible surface kind of weekends, and I’m still riding the wave a little bit.

The boys and I cleaned out their drawers and donated everything that they didn’t like or didn’t fit, and then Jake and I cleaned out his bookshelves and toys. Let me tell you, that kid is a good purger. Maybe he was just in the same mood as I was, but we have bags and bags of donations, with a sparkling clean room to boot. I have started to do the same for Mark’s room, which is much more difficult as he has slight pack rat tendencies.

Well, I can’t fault him too much. I was at a gathering with friends over the weekend, and we were talking about the Kondo Tidying-Up Method. One of my girlfriends (HI JO) cleaned out and donated three-quarters of her wardrobe. She told me she has something like four t-shirts and five tank tops now, and upon hearing this my face looked exactly like this:

I mean, I tried the Kondo method for my wardrobe and it turns out that everything I have “sparks joy.” YES I DO NEED TWENTY-FIVE BLACK SWEATERS WHAT OF IT? When I did go through the process again recently, I ended up getting rid of a couple of pairs of shoes and two workout t-shirts that I SWEAR gave me body odour. I am not kidding – they were made of some kind of “sweat-wicking” bamboo, and every time I wore them I actually smelled like some teenage kid’s gym locker. Right now you’re probably thinking Sure, blame the t-shirts, but it’s true! Any other t-shirt I wear just smells like deodorant after a workout, but these smelled like actual body odour. Not wanting to smell like some kind of feral hippie, I gave up and donated them.

I just had a thought – what if that’s bad karma? What if someone else now has those shirts and is wondering why they suddenly have BO? What if this is a monkey paw situation?

Well, it’s too late to do anything about it at this point.

The point is, I love my wardrobe. I feel like I’ve been cultivating it for years and I love every garment in it. This was the entire motivation for my twelve pound weight loss since August. I know I haven’t been talking about it much, but last summer I had put on a “few pounds,” and that was in addition to a “few pounds” that had been slowly creeping on with time. It’s funny; if you saw me every day you might not have even noticed, but my clothes  were gradually getting tighter. My right hip was bothering me a lot, and that was affecting my yoga practice, which in turn was probably negatively affecting my weight. My energy levels were lower, but it was gradual so I didn’t really realize it. It wasn’t until after I came home from my in-laws’ house after consuming way too many Palm Bay coolers, and snacking mindlessly, that I really noticed. I had been wearing stretchy skirts for most of the summer, so it was a bit of a shock when I put on my jeans and…well, they buttoned up, but the button was a potentially deadly weapon, if you know what I mean.

Then I got on the scale and I saw a number that I hadn’t seen since Jake was a baby. That was a bit of a wake-up call; it’s so easy to slowly put on pounds, and there are obvious health implications to it. I thought, if I gained five (or more) pounds every year, things would start to add up and none of my clothes would fit. Also, as we all know, with weight gain health, energy, etc., suffers but MY CLOTHES.

I’m happy to say that those “few pounds” and more (TWELVE!) are now gone; it was a combination of much more mindful eating and also adding in three cardio exercise workouts a week. I have dessert only once or twice a week, I don’t snack after supper, and I have a spinach smoothie every day. I have so much more energy now – even on weekends that I don’t decide that I need to clean the whole house top to bottom. I still have wine on the weekends, because life isn’t worth living without a glass of Cabernet, in my humble opinion. I mean, I have to draw the line somewhere.

The important thing? My clothes fit again. I don’t have to re-buy my wardrobe and my favourites are still my favourites. Which is good, because if you don’t want to part with any of your clothes, you need to be sure those clothes fit.

Bikini2016

Scaredy Squirrel Can Go To Hell

Posted on by

Was that me who was just talking about bringing sunshine with you wherever you go, and finding the invincible summer within? Well, that was before I discovered that squirrels have dug up and eaten every crocus bulb that Mark and I lovingly planted in my hosta garden, last fall.

Let me backtrack for a moment: my hosta garden is absolutely gorgeous for three months out of the year. At best. It is on the north side of our garage, but also shaded by the house, so it receives little to no sunshine. It is the coldest spot in the yard and the last place to thaw every spring. It is also the garden I look at the most, because it faces the kitchen window.

I know, I know, it’s not 1950 and I’m not wearing pearls and crinolines, but I do spend a vast amount of time in the kitchen and so that is my view. During the months of the year that it’s not snow covered, or the aforementioned three months that it is blooming, this is what it looks like:

yard

This is the BEST CASE SCENARIO. It’s really ugly.

And that is why I wanted to plant all the crocuses there: I imagined a scenario, before the hostas were up and before I could plant out impatiens, in which the garden would be covered with happy purple and yellow crocuses. It would be so wonderful. I would be so happy to look at it while I washed the dishes (but not in pearls and crinolines).

In the garden beside the back door, which is shielded from squirrels by – I guess – Barkley’s penchant for lying there, in the sun, these little beauties have poked up:

crocuses

I imagined a whole ocean of them in the hosta garden, an ocean of happy purpleness. Yesterday, I thought I saw sprouts in the hosta garden so I went out to look, and lo, there were sprouts. Sprouts that had been detached from their bulbs and were lying near the holes in which those same bulbs had been living.

Goddamn squirrels.

When I realized that they were all gone, all of them, I felt like pulling a Clark Griswold. I’m going to catch them in a coat, and then smack them with a hammer. I thought regretfully of the time I made Barkley drop a squirrel that was going to meet his maker. I silently willed Barkley to kill ALL THE SQUIRRELS, ALL OF THEM. A few hours later I saw a squirrel in the garden, and I ran out of the house, screaming. I threw my husband’s shoe – which was the first thing I could grab – at the squirrel, then picked it up and threw it again.

I am not the craziest person in my neighbourhood, but yesterday I felt like I could give a few of them a run for their money.

I know, I know, it’s not very zen of me. Also, we should all practice non-attachment, ahimsa, blah blah blah STAY OUT OF MY GARDEN. It took me a while to calm down and then it took me a while after that to not feel sad about my lost crocuses. After all, this is not Zootopia. The squirrels do not have human brain functions and are not some group of mean junior high girls that just want me to freak out while they laugh about it, eating my bulbs all the while. They are squirrels. They eat bulbs. This is what they do.

Hoo boy though, I was blue. I don’t know why but it felt like my entire joie de vivre depended on having those crocuses blooming. I mean, this is not a Jane Austen novel and those crocuses are not my betrothed on which my entire lifetime of happiness depends. And yet it felt like all the colour had literally gone out of my world.

Well, today I’m feeling much better. Maybe I’ll put some interesting-looking planters in there, and change things out seasonally – some outdoors-hardy decorations or some such thing. Maybe I’ll try re-planting and do some research on squirrel deterrent. Is there such a thing as a scarecrow, but for squirrels?

My name is (not) Matt Foley and I am a motivational speaker.

Posted on by

I have been on the go, go, go since I got home yesterday morning. We flew home from a wonderful twelve days in Maui, on the red-eye, and I’ve basically been in a whirl of somewhat dull but very necessary activity since then. Well, not counting last night after the kitchen had been cleaned up, when I watched two episodes of House of Cards and ermagerrrrd what is going on in that show? I have to keep reminding myself that it is not real, but now I’m eyeing everything political with even more suspicion than I did before.

It’s funny; no matter how incredibly prepared and organized I am – and I’m very prepared and organized – the first day or two back from vacation are a whirlwind of chores and errands and catching up on work even though I still worked a bit throughout my vacation. It’s been productive 36 hours though, although I almost got derailed by uploading my photos. They’re so pretty; I just want to photo edit and do nothing else for the rest of the day. Alas.

Every day on my vacation I took long, long walks in the morning. Part of the motivation was fitness-related – I didn’t want to repeat last year’s Post Vacation Inability To Fit Into Pants Syndrome – but mostly it was just wonderful to walk in the soft, floral-scented air and take in my surroundings. I found myself daydreaming about using this little space on the Internet for good – Motivational sayings! Spreading joy and happiness! – but my tune changed a bit when I got back to reality so you’re welcome, dear readers. You will not be subjected to motivational sayings from me, unless it’s something like Hang In There with a picture of the 1970s kitten stuck on a tree branch.

Slight disclaimer: I do think it’s important to find beauty everywhere, and to bring the sunshine with you wherever you go. Invincible summers in the depth of winter, etcetera. If you follow me on Instagram you will notice that I have the goal of posting one beautiful photo every day – although beauty may be in the eye of the beholder some days, unless you really like banana muffins. Hey, sometimes banana muffins are the best we can do!

For example, this is what my view looks like today:

IMG_4484

Which, you know, is fine. It’s March and there’s no snow and things are starting to green up, which is ridiculously early for Calgary. Barkley got his spring haircut and isn’t dragging dead leaves and grass into the house anymore. It’s nice. But it’s not this:

IMG_4382

or this

IMG_4443

or this

IMG_4474

or even this, the plumeria graveyard

IMG_4401

Ah well, it’s good to be home. Cocktail hour at 4 pm daily was nice, but my body is probably happier with green smoothies. My long walks were wonderful but getting on the yoga mat today, I felt exactly like C-3PO, or possibly the Tin Man. Time to get back on track with everything!

I have lots and lots of things to say about beach fashion – thongs seemed to be a big thing this year, as well as athletic-style halter tops – and how my own beach fashion drastically changed this year (read: no more string bikinis). I also have lots to say about travel in general, and a great way to save your hair from sun damage, and some awesome books I read, and my opinion about this douchebag who preferred to send nasty tweets about the woman on the plane in front of him, rather than simply asking her to move her ponytail. Wait, I think I just gave away my opinion on that. The point is I have so much to tell you, but no more time today. Shall I leave you with a motivational saying? No, I shall not. But I’ll leave you with this photo of me with a whole lot of these gorgeous yellow flowers that were everywhere. xo

IMG_4385

 

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Book and Movie Edition

Posted on by

Now that I’ve gotten my Spring Rage About Time Change out of the way, I’m feeling much better. Coffee helps. My body feeling like it’s 3:30 in the morning when it’s really 4:30 in the morning is making it very easy to get to sleep at my usual hour. I’m slowly adjusting, so in eight months I will be prepared for my Fall Rage About Time Change.

As an aside, there is a huge psychological difference between 4:30 am and 3:30 am. The former feels like “dawn,” the latter feels like “middle of the night.”

Anyway. I had meant for today’s post to be a praise for a few movies and books I’ve seen and read lately, but things got away from me. Let’s keep going on a positive note, shall we? I am sure, dear reader, that you do not want to hear any more about time change until at least November, if ever again.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Book and Movie Edition

Zootopia: We saw this on the weekend, and it is just excellent. Lots of fun cameos, and a really engaging story. We were in one of those theatres with reclining La-Z-Boy-type chairs, and I didn’t fall asleep, which means the movie must have been pretty good. The animation is very cute and all through the movie I kept wondering whose voice is this, I know this voice. It’s Jason Bateman!

The Skeleton Twins: My husband sold me on this because it stars Bill Hader and Kristin Wiig. Hilarious, right? Well, it’s funny but in a dark way, and is one of the most interesting and compelling movies I’ve seen in a long time. Of course, given that I usually watch movies with three guys, I’m normally forced to view things with lots of explosions and shooting. This was a very refreshing change. Luke Wilson’s turn as the loving, kind husband is absolutely heart-wrenching. The acting is great, the story is great, and there’s a lip sync scene which is to die for.

Fishbowl by Bradley Somer: I picked this up on a whim at the library while Mark cleaned out the children’s section on Greek mythology. It’s a lovely book, written – sort of – from the point of view of a fish who jumps out of his bowl and falls down a 27-floor building. It’s also about the lives that go on within that building, and it’s absolutely delightful with many turns and twists along the way. A very happy, enjoyable read – and it doesn’t even end with a dead fish, improbably enough, so points for that.

Mean Streak by Sandra Brown: Another grab from the library’s New and Notable section, this book is not the type I usually gravitate toward. I’m not much of one for a suspense novel or a mystery, but this one is a fascinating page-turner about a woman who goes missing, her captor, her husband, and a larger background than it first appears. Plus, there’s some good sexy scenes, if you’re into that.

The Boston Girl by Anita Diamant: I read The Red Tent years ago and enjoyed it; I have always thought it would be kind of nice to have my very own red tent during my Ladies’ Holidays, if only to save my husband and children from my pre-menstrual pretending-I’m-not-crabby-when-I-really-feel-murderous-rage-over-this-unrecyled-envelope demeanor. So I was interested to read this book by the same author, about a Jewish girl born in 1900, living in a Boston tenement. It’s a really engaging story that shows the change in women’s attitudes and attitudes towards women over the twentieth century; it has kind of an “Oprah’s Book Club” feel to it, but I like that sort of thing.

Come Away With Me by Karma Brown: Karma and I have mutual friends and we are Facebook friends, which is my way of bragging/ living vicariously through someone else. This book is incredible, and I can’t say too much without spoiling it, but suffice it to say that you need to read it for yourself. I really loved it; there are some great travel descriptions as well. Part of the book is set in Maui, which is my favourite place on this planet, making it even more enjoyable.

Sweetness In The Belly by Camilla Gibbs: I recently read This Is Happy, and to be honest, I didn’t really enjoy it. I didn’t see what all the hoopla was about, but I did enjoy the parts where Gibbs discusses her travels to Africa, specifically Ethiopia. This reminded me that I had Sweetness In The Belly – inspired by her experiences – on my bookshelf. It was a book club read from long ago when I actually belonged to a book club, but I couldn’t remember anything about it at all. I started reading it and I remembered why: there is an extremely graphic female circumcision scene in the book. Back in 2006, I closed the book at that scene – which is near the beginning of the book – and I never re-opened it after that. In my defence, I had a one year old and a newborn at the time, and hormonal mood swings meant that reading about female circumcision was not in the cards for me. This time reading it, I made it past the scene, and I’m glad I did. An excellent book that spans the 1960s-1980s and describes the Ethiopian crisis we all remember, it is both a love story and a wonderful peek at a culture and country rich in history.

On the blog front, Cara-Lynne is an incredibly sweet woman who years ago wrote me a kind note telling me how much she enjoyed my Boyhouse adventures. She now has her own blog; it’s all about yoga and inspiration! I really enjoy reading it and I hope you do too. You can find it here.

What are you reading these days? Have you seen any good movies lately? That sounds like a pickup line, I know, but I’d love to hear about it if you have. xo