I was tempted to once again use last week’s gimmick – of attempting to write about the Holy Grail, but getting distracted by my fascination with flightless birds – at the beginning of this post. But I didn’t want to exhaust the joke and besides, I don’t need any pretense here: this post is about…
Note: I wanted to share photos of the kids from the school we visited in South Africa but I realize that I don’t have permission from their parents or guardians – only their teachers. Consequently, I’ve tried to select images where the kids are either in the distance, or not visible head-on, so that it wouldn’t…
– In writing about South Africa, I wanted to finish on a high note. I really did. But I’m at the end now, and this last post about our trip deals with stuff that is, in no uncertain terms, heartbreaking and tragic. I’m sorry. In the wake of the last few weeks, I really wanted…
– My husband is a beer snob. It’s something I find quite endearing. The guy rarely touches wine, and ignores most liquors (with the exception of scotch because it’s scotch. It’s basically like drinking a campfire, i.e., amazing), but he’s somewhat of a fanatic for beer.
– Rand and I have been talking a lot about entitlement lately. It’s something that comes up a lot for both us. I think we’re both incredibly scared of forgetting just how damn lucky we are. Every now and then, I take a minute think about how charmed my existence is: how every single day…
– After we returned to Cape Town, Rand and I took a township tour. I think, without hyperbole, it may have been one of the most significant experiences of my life. I very much want to tell you about it, but it’s impossible to talk about the townships without first talking about apartheid in South…
As hard as it was to leave the resort, Rand made it bearable by planning a few more days in Cape Town before we had to go home (you guys, he’s SO smart. There are days when I think I should marry him twice. Is that a thing? Because it should be). We stayed near…
– I’m not a plant person. I suppose that’s far better than not being a people person. Or not being a dog person. Or a cat person. (For the record, I am two of the three. I’ll let you guess.) It’s not that plants and I have a bad relationship (except for blackberry bushes. Those…
– Whenever I see someone who has succumbed to something incredibly touristy – whether it be the people running around Disney World with those invisible dogs on leashes, or anyone drinking beer out of a boot – two things go through my head: That is so incredibly cheesy. I … I kind of want in…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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