Not every element of our trip in Bushman’s Kloof was Jack-proof. When Reggie, our field guide, told us about the crystal pools, he explained that the hike wouldn’t be appropriate for a toddler, and the staff made arrangements to have Malcolm, our lodge manager, watch Jack. I wish I had a photo of the…
When you have a wonderful trip, it is incredibly hard to remember one distinct day, because they all sort of run together in a crazy, cake-fueled haze. At the end of it, you are five pounds heavier and you have on a bathing suit bottom instead of underwear because you wore your last clean pair the…
Warning: Today’s post is all about me gushing over my husband. The jaded and cynical may want to skip it entirely, or possibly read it with a barf bucket at hand. Because holy cats, you guys: he’s really effing cute. I can’t get over this shot. I think he looks so handsome: This…
Our first two days in the Kloof, it rained. This was new. Last time, the weather varied from hot to “OMG MY FACE IS MELTING LIKE THAT NAZI FROM RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARC” hot. Now it was colder than it had been in London the week before, which isn’t really saying much, because London…
People were surprised that we were heading back to South Africa. Weren’t we just there? It was two years ago, actually. And we’re going back to the same places we visited last time? Yes. Yes, we were.
We took a three-year-old to South Africa. Actually, that’s not technically true. Our friends Sarah and Eric took their three-year-old to South Africa. It was our crazy idea to do it, and they listened to us. They listened to their childless friends about how it was a good – nay, GREAT – idea to take a toddler…
– 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…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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