This Healthy Homegirl

It has been seven years since I last consumed a morsel of meat. That was March, 2013 and I was in college, working part time in a deli. This involved making breakfast rolls, foraging through the fish counter and scraping lamp chops. I often joke that it was my butcher past that tipped me over the edge. I think it was the chicken fillets with a return address in Thailand that vacuum packed and sealed the deal though. I had pondered the prospect of a plant based diet for a while but there was one thing that had really been holding me back: bacon. I am ashamed to say, the sight of a salty, sizzling sliver had previously  ham pered my efforts to pursue this lifestyle. That was until I finally convinced myself that this was neither good for my cholesterol or my conscience. Now the smell repels me,  it’s funny how things have a way of trotting full circle. To add to this, the fact that pigs are like pink dogs in my eyes squealed the deal for me. I could never contemplate consuming my

When visualization becomes realization: give it a post of its own. At 12.55 on Friday the 26th of July, 2019, the church bells chimed just beyond the back garden of my home. I had envisioned this moment for so many years, it was hard to believe it was finally here. Before I describe this most important time and the walk that ensued, I want to pause, take a few steps back and look in my rear-view. In order to boost gratitude before you go to sleep, you can reflect on the details that added a little yay! to your day. On the contrary, I have always visualized one moment that set off sparks in my soul. I had pictured this point in time on numerous nights, when I switched off my electric blanket and turned off the light. The image of myself and my Dad strolling side by side, nestled snugly together, our arms intertwined. It always allowed me to go gentle into that good night, succumb to slumber and settle my mind. Now, as the hand of the clock climbed towards one, I turned my face

On August 7th, as our plane ascended towards high altitude leaving the Miami skyline in our midst, we began our 45 minute transfer to Havana. As the cloud cover ceased and we made our way towards Cuba’s capital, the absence of any imposing buildings was to be expected. The airport was also equally unassuming. I landed in the country with limited knowledge of it’s workings or ways; I was never much of a history buff, nor did politics really rouse me. Ignorance could be a more apt adjective to describe this, that or I just really, really love a good surprise. I definitely got that and it was as pleasant as it was humbling. This is no ordinary place. If Marty McFly had been our designated chauffeur, nothing would have been amiss. His DeLoreon car would have slotted in just lovely amidst the myriad of vintage and medieval motors that adorn the rugged roads. I say medieval, I’m talking real, living, breathing, neighing, trotting, cantering, galloping horse power. They’re also very