It pays to pre pack.
I am always busy. Breezing out to work early and coming in late. So when I read a post on Pinterest about packing and freezing green Smoothie Mixes I was like, that post was meant to save me this week.
So I present my Raspberry Green Smoothie mix. Consumed after getting my butt kicked by Charlene Johnson’s Turbo Fire and Charlean Extreme.
What’s in the blender?
3 cups Spinach
2 cups Raspberries
2 cups Plums
1 Avocado Pear
1 cup Coconut Milk
1 cup Water
2 tablespoons Almond nuts
So it’s day 2 and I can’t say I have a hang of drinking my Green breakfast and lunch but I feel a little more confident about my chances of seeing this through to the end.
Backtracking a little to the early hours of the morning and my sensitive stomach’s response to my transverse into the world of healthy drinking, I felt I wouldn’t be able to make it out the door but I’m happy to report I eventually made it out, yippee.
So here’s my day in retrospect, 30 minutes of Shaun T’s Max Out Cardio and another 40 minutes of Cize, I had some nuts and downed my first cup of Greens. It was a miracle my stomach stayed stable while I was out seeing ‘Now You See Me 2’ which I must say was Amaze-balls so now it’s on to the last cup of greens.
Contents of today’s Smoothie
1. 3 Cups Spinach
2. 1 Cup Coconut Milk
3. 1 Cup Pineapple Juice
4. 5 Clementines
5. 1 Cup of Oats
Ever since I could remember I’ve been hounded about my weight so from a very young age I started exercising with my mum who was also trying to slim down.
As I think back to my hits, misses, partial successes and complete failures at weight-loss, I have to commend myself on my consistency in at least keeping the struggle alive.
Today I start yet another weight-loss adventure in Green Smoothies which will replace 2 of my meals for the next 7 days. Fear not for me dear friends cos I know I will survive.
So cheers to all those who drink their lunch as against eating it.
Contents of my Green Smoothie
1. 3 lemons
2. 1 orange
3. 3 bananas
4. Half a cup of oats
5. 3 tablespoons cashews
6. 3 cups spinach
Leaving him was the hardest thing she’s had to do in a long time. The pull and connection was ever so strong even after years of being separated by geography and conflicting schedules. Her chest constraints in pain, causing her to hyperventilate while simultaneously tearing up and stray tears spilling uncontrollably. Her tear ducts were shaming her in public and she was at a loss for what to do. She has one clear thought though, ‘Enough was enough, her days of being an emotional mess were long behind her. She was done.’
Looking up at James as he brushes off imaginary lint off her arms all in a desperate attempt to draw out their farewell, Mary knows this is goodbye but none of them have the guts to say it out loud; but he knows. He sees it in her eyes, in her posture – the way her shoulders are pulled back with her collarbone protruding, – the continuous twitch around her lips as she bites back numerous sarcastic retorts. He knew her well enough to bite his tongue and keep any platitudes to himself, they would backfire at this point. A lot had been said and there were no words left only this huge silence between them and the electricity emanating from their bodies. Chemistry had never been their problem but everything else.
Their embrace was long and communicated every emotion they each felt, Mary was the first to pull away. ‘Have a safe flight babe’ James said. ‘You know I love you’. Looking into his eyes for what felt like a minute, Mary pulls him close till their foreheads touch, caresses his chin, turns, walks away and doesn’t look back. She was tired of this dance, the I love you’s and the emptiness she felt whenever geography and family demanded their due. She was done.
As the plane ascends into the clouds and the embarrassing tears escape in bucket loads, Mary can be heard chanting over and over again, ‘I can’t keep letting this happen. This is the end, I’m better than this’.
As the hours tick by to the end of 2015, words fail me as I try to capture the mix of emotions coursing through me.
Every new year brings with it it’s specially packaged gifts and 2015 was a year with mixed packages. At the start of 2015, I armed myself with a long list detailing all the gifts I expected from 2015, but as I exit the year, I exit with a sense of semi-satisfaction and optimism for 2016. I may not have gotten all I wanted but it was quite a year.
I am grateful for all the events of 2015 – the friends that became family, the stresses and hurdles that taught me patience and faith; and the experiences that shaped my world view and kept me charging forward, full speed ahead.
I raise my glass to you, 2016. To New beginnings, Fresh starts and Conquering new territories. The pictures in my head are so vivid I can touch them; 2016 is going to be a great year.
Happy New Year.
Had I known.
This too familiar phrase precedes or ends the retelling of a lamentable story. Had she known.
Women are always under pressure. Under pressure to look better, so we spend all we have on make-up, wardrobe changes and elixirs and mixes to keep us trim; under pressure to have better looking lives, so we create a façade of happiness that the world envies when we are really buckling under depression and anxiety; under pressure to be seen as complete women, so we marry the riff raff that we can’t stand just because time is running out, remain under physical and emotional abuse from a husband who should be our protector because of what people would say, go from one prophet to the other looking for a miracle baby, allow ourselves be prodded by doctors and surgeons still looking for that baby that is ours so that the world can know, I am a woman. You are a complete woman in spite of being without a man or a child from your own womb. But in this part of the world, the opposite holds true.
I am not a mother and I may not know the psychological turmoil these women go through from their families and society but as a friend to many who have lost their lives in this desperate gamble underneath the surgeon’s knife, I ask myself constantly if it was worth it.
A friend said to me once, there are thousands of babies waiting to be adopted, why not take one of them? My response, nobody wants to admit to being a failure and to some, adoption is an admission of your failure.
Had they known they would have waited for Mr. Right and not being pressured into accepting Mr. Right Now. Had they known they would have stopped competing with everyone else and focused on being the best version of themselves. Had they known they would have adopted a beautiful baby and given him/her all their love.
If they had known it would end their lives, that might have made a different choice.
Looking at our old love letters; the ones you wrote and those that I wrote but never sent, because they were not good enough. It tells a story of a shining past draped in the likeness of a fairytale but really it was spotted with doubt and confusion.
The sweet letters still tug on my heart strings, bringing a smile as I try to hold on to the warmth those words held. Yours were filled with the confidence of a pro in love while mine reeked of hesitance and the forced emotion of a girl trying to keep up. I loved you, really I did, but it wasn’t equal in weight to yours.
You loved with an intimidating passion and you overwhelmed me with your words and emotions. I wished then I could keep up…
I think it’s time to throw away these old love letters. Wait… Maybe later… Maybe Never.
On November 1, 2015 I saw my brother. I hadn’t seen him in 4 years but I had come to accept he wasn’t coming around here anymore. But on November 1st he was here and it was beautiful.
It is dark outside, the evening is cool and breezy. In the parlor upstairs, he’s bent over the floor, ironing. He’s smiling and singing in his beautiful melodic voice and my heart smiles.
True to form the first thing I say is ‘help me iron my clothes for church tomorrow, you know I hate ironing’. He takes the dress from me and starts ironing, no complaints, no elicited favors. I just sit in the corner and watch him while we talk about things that really are irrelevant in the skim of things.
When he’s all done ironing, we start singing. He brings out his guitar and we just go to town singing any and every song. Lil J and Vero jump in and just keep going, song after song. I don’t think I have been happier than in those moments with all 4 of us singing, laughing and just being goofy kids again. My sister tries to make us sing ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ https://youtu.be/PSZxmZmBfnU but I cut her off. We sing ‘Somewhere In Neverland’ by the All Time Low over and over again instead. https://youtu.be/PvffTOU7HBs
They are all looking at me strangely just because I don’t want to stop singing. I know what happens when I stop. James is smiling and looking into my eyes like he’s done many times and I’m happy to be here not thinking or feeling. Then in a blink of an eye it’s gone. I’m staring at blue curtains and the greying clouds outside my bedroom.
My heart can’t take the switch. I close my eyes trying to bring that reality back but it’s gone and it’s not coming back. James is not coming back. This is not the reality I want to be in anymore.
Some months ago I had some car trouble. It was a weekday and I was trying to make a meeting at work and that was the day my car decided to break down. That incident set off a chain of events that affected my entire day. I was grumpy, irritated and downright rude on a number of instances throughout the day. I just couldn’t get over the inconvenience of that singular mishap in my day just because I chose, maybe subconsciously, to focus on the problematic note my day started off on.
Looking back to that day there were splashes of joys and hues of happiness painted across that day that I didn’t even notice for my Miss Grumpy crown. For instance, my 3 year old niece called me specifically to ask when I was come over and ended the call with her and brother saying ‘I love you Aunty Joy’. This and little acts of kindness shown to me at work and later at home should have been enough to get me out of my funk but I whined myself to sleep.
The Truth is there will be situations that wind up our knickers but we need to take time to look around for a reason to be joyful. Be it in the ‘I love you’s’ of your niece or the embrace from a close friend or just the fact that, like me, you have a car and the resources to fix it when it acts up.
There’s always something to be thankful for, you just need the eyes to see it.
Women Who Have Run For President Know What Hillary Clinton And Carly Fiorina Are In For – http://huff.to/1EIKlHy