New Year, New Podcast Episode …

Hey readers,

Happy February! I owe you a new post, and I have a few lined up that I should really put out soon …

But in the meantime, just wanted to promote a brand-new episode of Sip & Bitch, a podcast I’ve been doing with my two friends, Renée and Kath, for the past couple of years.

This episode is about the “adulting” – us talking about what it means to us, and what we think of the term.

Side note: When we started recording back in late 2015, we never really explained why we decided to start a podcast. We talk about the origin story behind our little side project, early in the episode.

You can find Sip & Bitch it on iTunes, as well as SoundCloud — check us out via this link below!

My Personal History Project

So. I know it’s been a very long time since I’ve last posted.

If you’ve seen my last entry, then you know the reason why.

It’s been a bit of a tough, depressing time, to be honest.

But in addition to losing my father, I also moved into a new apartment. Which, apparently,  are two of the most stressful things that a person can go through.

There have also been job cuts at my workplace. Fortunately, I’m safe, for the moment. It merely means that I have at least one thing that’s resembles normalcy this year so far.

And now, we’re barrelling into summer. And with no major trips planned – only one short one, but more on that later – it seems like it’s going to be relatively sedate.

In some ways, that’s fine. But I’ve been bored.

And that boredom got me thinking: beyond what I do for a living, who am I, really? What am I?

I’m of Jamaican parentage. But if you know the island’s motto (“Out of many, one people”), then you know there’s a bit more to it than that. It’s been a question that’s taken up residence in a deep corner of my brain for at least the last couple of years now.

So, it was late on a Saturday night roughly a couple of weeks ago, that I decided I would start trying to find out.

I ordered a DNA ancestry test online from one of those companies in the States and mailed back a saliva sample, just to see what they’ll find.

Now, let’s be clear: I don’t in any way, shape or form think this test will magically tell me everything I need to know about my genetic makeup. It’s not necessarily going to tell me where specifically my lineage came from, or from what side of the family. Not unless I’m willing to shell out more money and start begging family members to pay money to swab their cheeks or spit into plastic vials.

But it would be nice to have some sort of clue.

I probably won’t find out for at least another couple of weeks. So in the meantime, I’ve taken up another mini-hobby …

One that’s led me in a direction I didn’t intend to go.



A Little Crochet Crazy

Every year, three friends and I do a Christmas gift exchange, with the actual exchange of presents happening sometime around New Year’s.

This year, I decided I was going to be a bit ambitious and make something for my friend.

But what?

And that’s when I remembered my occasional ability to crochet.

I’m not quite sure when I first cultivated an interest. It might have been in my late teens, when my mom – a newbie to the craft herself – had ended up making this very cute ripple afghan for a friend of hers.

And then over the years, I go back to it occasionally. The strange thing is, it’s never truly stuck. I never do any of it in the spring, summer or fall. But the minute there’s frost and the threat of snowflakes, the craft geek in me stirs, and wipes the sleep from her crafty eyes.

Usually, all it takes is for me to look at a picture of some blanket or other fashion accessory. And before you can say “popcorn stitch”, I’m digging around in the linen closet trying to find all my hooks and the big bags full of unused yarn … and then it’s off to the nearest Wal-Mart or Zellers, looking for even MORE acrylic yarn.

It’s like a two-month long, crafting booty call.

The only exception to this rule was last year. I did feel the urge. But I guess my inner sloth managed to gag and tie up my inner crocheter, ’cause I managed to ignore it until the feeling passed.

This year, though, it’s back with a vengeance.

Perhaps it’s my age. I really don’t know why. But it’s strong. I’ve already made my friend’s gift, and am now starting on a hat and scarf for myself.

Usually that’s as far as it gets. But who knows? Maybe this year, I can crank out a cowl scarf for someone else … or maybe a whole afghan.

I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, because usually when I hit the height of my beginner’s crochet zeal, is usually when I lose complete interest for another year.

But if it doesn’t … consider yourself warned.