Archive - January 2015

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This sugar is made of salt
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A December to Remember
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In 2015, I resolve to…
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Closing with cleansing
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1.2.3, 1.2.3…sweat

This sugar is made of salt

In the last decade or so, my food life has altered considerably, and I’m always reminded of that fact every time I visit my mum’s. Last month’s visit was no different. Her vegetable sauce is devoid of the tomato taste I’m now accustomed to in efo riro. My palate waits for the fish and tomato flavour in her fried beans dish when I know there won’t be any because I didn’t cook it. White rice and red stew feature constantly any time rice is the food of choice while that combo begs for a place in my kitchen most of the time. Eggs are always a mix of cream and red (pepper & tomatoes) colours; mine are cream, white and green (green pepper) with the taste of paprika, garlic and Knorr seasoning. All of these (and other meals, habits of hers) I can stand, it’s the cubed – sugar she still uses as a sweetener that I am yet to come to terms with. After all these years. I grew up with them and still see them every time at her house. She doesn’t seem to trust its easily–dissolving sister – the granulated kind. Maybe because there is a tendency to take more than is needed or that a relative jokingly commented about it being mixed with other substances to reduce its potency and increase its quantity or it’s just her genuine love for that particular kind and the brand that makes it. St. Louis should begin to give her a percentage of its profits if that’s the case. Whatever her reasons, we’re stuck with them whenever we are in her house, and every time I use them to sweeten anything, I’m convinced that I made the right choice using the granulated kind. The first time a nephew of mine saw them, he yelled: ‘Marshmallow!’ bringing a smile to my face and his mum’s. But nothing prepared me for Chairman’s reaction when he saw them (and realized what they were) for the first time too last year. His excitement was infectious; his sister caught on too. Perhaps to humour him”more

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A December to Remember

‘I’m Annie’, Chairman declares loudly. ‘My name is Gabby,’ T states just as loudly, not to be out done by her brother. For the past couple of days, the children have been saying these statements often. Annie and Gabby are two of their cousins whom they met at their grandma’s and spent the recently concluded holidays with amongst seven other adrenaline – filled, very active children. It is nine days today since we returned to Lagos, and back to our lives but apparently the memories of the holidays are still playing back constantly in the minds of my children. And who can blame them? They had a whale of a time with their cousins! There was Santa Claus with four presents each per child, their favourite cartoon characters featuring prominently. Barney. Mickey Mouse. Ben 10.      They played games and had competitions – artwork (creating a Christmas card) competition, dancing chairs and fashion parade. Of course, this meant more presents. Yay! They had more ice – cream and sweets during the two – week period than I would normally allow in two months.  Yum, yum. Everyday was Christmas day at grandma’s! Or how else would they describe going to bed after saying goodnight to their cousins and waking up the next day to a full schedule of play, eat, play, eat, more playing, more eating surrounded by cousins ’till nightfall again? They went to an amusement park. Twice. This was perhaps the highlight of the entire trip. And on both occasions, the nine of them had the entire park to themselves. For a minimal fee and more than two hours, the children knocked themselves out with delirious, we-can’t-believe-this-is-happening fun. .   They only took quick water breaks and another brief one for snacking. This was no bouncy castle, choo- choo train – ride park powered by electricity. Almost every fun equipment is manually – operated. The same way they were when my siblings and I visited over twenty years ago. Yes, the park is that old and we have a sentimental (and physical) attachment to it. Imagine, our children are”more

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In 2015, I resolve to…

Live thankfully Like T who appreciates EVERYTHING I do for her in grand style – from making her favourite meals to taking her out to play parks to buying her gifts – thus making me blush and pleased at the same time, I’d live the same way this year. Thankful for everything. Big and minuscule.   Live joyfully   Every  morning, I’ll wake up with the awe of just being alive and begin each day with a smile.   Laugh often    …because it it the best medicine                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Live prayerfully   Singing Prayer is the key, prayer is the key Prayer is the master key Jesus started with prayer and ended with prayer Prayer is the master key I ended 2014 with prayer and began 2015 with one. I seem to be on the right track and staying right there means lacing the year with even more.   Live every day well   …and not let a hell – bent heart leave me bitter Love much   Live in more colour Stimulate my productivity with a red clock. Continue writing my notes on a yellow pad (started this in September 2014) to promote my mental growth. Increase my balance and stability with a green rug.  And use”more

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Closing with cleansing

Here’s the second post. Yesterday I finally did it. The detox I have been procrastinating for almost the entire year. Alone in the kitchen two days ago early in the morning while making breakfast for the children, I noticed fruits crowding the tops of almost all the cabinets. The ones my sister, my sisters – in – law and I bought as well the others given to the family as presents. Paw paws, oranges, bananas, water melons, pears and limes stared back at me. The thought of my-not -having-the -time -to- do -a- three -day -long – water- and – fruit detox(that a family friend had painstakingly detailed on a foolscap paper at the beginning of the year) flashed through my mind. The book I was reading ‘Take Time for You ‘ dedicated two pages to ‘cleansing your temple’ and outlining a simple one – day fruit & vegetable detox plan. ‘A cleanse supplements what the liver already does, but many people believe in a detox’s ability to boost energy, clear the skin, and provide mental clarity.’ I am one of those people. And I was on holiday surrounded by family. So what was stopping me from doing it now? If for any reason I passed out in the process, I was surrounded by capable family hands. Game on! For starters, I wasn’t going to do the three-day detox. I’d begin small with a full one day fast, see how I fare and move on from there. The book states that a simple approach involves setting as one full day for it. The night before,eat a light meal. Check. Avoid caffeine, tobacco and alcohol. Check. Go to bed early and allow yourself to awake naturally in the morning. Eh…no check. I stayed up late reading the book and had to alarm -clock awake myself the next day. Begin the next day with a steaming hot shower or bath. Mine was the complete opposite – an icy cold bath in the dry harmattan weather. No way a hot one was going to cool down my body of the rivulets of sweat”more

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1.2.3, 1.2.3…sweat

Happy New Year! Welcome to 2015! Here’s to good news, glad tidings and God’s blessings all year round. Since my last post last year (sounds like a lifetime ago) where I mentioned photo – uploading issues, I also discovered I couldn’t upload posts either! For about eight days. Turns out WordPress was compiling a report on my blogging activity which I saw on December 30. Thanks WordPress. Mighty nice and thoughtful of you. Next time please let me in on your plans so that you don’t frustrate mine. The next two posts, beginning with the one below, were due last month at specific times but couldn’t be uploaded because of the glitch. Here’s the first. At 6.30am this morning, I found myself jogging down the main road of our neighbourhood behind my younger sister. The last time I did this was…I can’t even remember. This running and huffing and feeling the wind rush past me is not my style. I don’t jog for exercise. I’d rather rhumba my way to weight loss or salsa to my desired size. I have diligently salsexercised almost throughout the year and it has paid off in the loose fit of some of my clothes. So I can keep doing what works for me. However, different strokes, different  folks. My  sister, Pru, swears by jogging and has stuck to it for quite a while now. Apparently it does wonders for  her physique. And every December when we meet at our mum’s, she’d ask that I accompany her on her journey to size 0. So I do immediately after 30 minutes of sizzling salsexercise.  In 2013 and 2012, I walked way behind her while she jogged, hopped and made as though she wanted to take off from a tarmac. When she gets tired, she lags behind and joins me in my morning stroll. This year I decided to give it a go . After 15 minutes of hard skipping(I haven’t salsexercised in more than a month. Read my post titled ‘I need to find my own strength’ to find out why) we hit the road and”more

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