Tips for letting inspiration flow
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*This article was originally written for and published by Weight Watchers Canada.
Article: Creative ideas to keep the kids busy this summer
Ideas for crafts, virtual activities, and family projects to do together
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Article: Hand-washing 101
How to keep your hands clean – for real
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Article: How to ease into a cardio routine
Plus, why this form of exercise is not the be-all, end-all
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*This article was originally written for and published by Weight Watchers Canada.
Article: Staying positive in isolation
Expert advice on how to handle the feelings that may be coming up
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*This article was originally written for and published by Weight Watchers Canada.
Article: Mapping the supermarket
How to navigate the grocery store to find the healthiest options
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Article: Flexing your resiliency muscle
Expert advice to becoming more resilient
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Article: New year, less clutter
Yeah, we’re more than a month into 2019, but how many of us still need these tips? *Raises hand*
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Article: The basics of behaviour change
How to modify everyday habits
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Poem: Lover’s Request
This is one of my “weird” poems from about a year ago, which I’m not 100% sure about. There are things I love about it, and things I don’t, things that I think work and things that don’t quite hit the mark. But here it is anyway, the way it came together. At the very least, it has value because I tried something different, and got a little writing practice out of it.
Lover’s Request
I want you to linger on my mouth like curry goat
slight spice tingle on my tongue, turmeric grease around my lips, sauce grit in the grooves of my gums, strings of flesh still stuck in my teeth hours later.
I want to smell you on my fingertips after three handwashes and a shower, the way spices lodge their scents into fingerprints, invisibly pungent, impossible to ignore.
I want you to fill me up like ground provisions,
breadfruit, sweet potato, dasheen, plantain,
sitting heavy and comfortable in my belly, making me feel loved and whole and at home.
I want you to make me wince with pleasure-pain like the Scotch Bonnet at the top of the rice and peas, my lips red and wet and plump with heat.
I want you to quench my thirst for love like ice-cold coconut water on a Sunday at the beach, dripping down my chin and into my soul.
