This is what farmers do when they want to have pretty nails for the upcoming BlogHer conference in New York City. Surgical gloves to dig up the potatoes! Not a very green thing to do, but then BlogHer only comes once a year. (Unless you’re attending BlogHer Food or BlogHer Europe). Oh! You didn’t know BlogHer Europe existed? Well it… Read More
La Seine et Les Seins
The alternate, albeit less interesting, title is: Summer Days. If you are even remotely familiar with Paris, you will know that La Seine (pronounced La Senn) is the river that runs through Paris and continues on to its outlying suburbs. Les seins (pronounced lay seh, with an eh that sounds like you’re shrugging your shoulders and saying it’s just… Read More
Exposed
My friend Alberte walked up to me in church and said, « I’ve been thinking about what I could do to help you lose weight.” This was not unsolicited, but rather based on conversations we’d had over time. She also has three children who are about four years older than ours, and she only lost her extra weight about three years… Read More
This Is My Life
You’ve heard about how superior French mothers are, right? Well I’m addressing that over at World Moms Blog. Just how superior they all are, and how superior I am by association. Okay, joking aside, I do have a few pictures to show you, even though I’m sending you over here to read what I wrote. I’m hoping you won’t mind… Read More
A Sense of Security
We knew that there was an element of danger involved in packing up our lives to spend a year in East Africa. We’d heard about the British ex-pat who got stabbed to death months before our arrival. She hadn’t been doing anything remarkable – just sitting in her car with the windows open, when a man came up to her… Read More
Basic Necessities: Food
At six o’clock in the morning, Sir and I are sound asleep in our rough-hewn king-sized bed, completely covered by a canopy of mosquito netting. Cock-a-doodle-dooooooooooooooooo! What. Was. That?! Sir goes to investigate, and tied to the back of the kitchen door there is a wiry bird. He climbs back into bed. “It’s our lunch,” he says wryly. Sure enough, when… Read More
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