This cartoon made me laugh…. but then I read about how Dusty the Dolphin’s boisterous activity has led to serious injuries for swimmers in County Clare, Ireland. Irish journalists are making Dusty out to be a criminal with headlines like ‘Dolphin attacks fourth swimmer in a month’ and ‘Diver claims Dusty tried to drown her’. A little unfair. Poor Dusty!
petals
teardrops
snowflakes
rain
stars
tides
eyelids
time
shadows
leaves
the sun
and I,
for you
via Modern Hepburn
I love this! The MaCool is a cooler designed to look like a vintage Mac computer, circa 1984. It even sports a ‘happy mac’ icon.
via Swiss-Miss
Morning yoga routine. I own you, downward dog.
Sidenote: What the what is upward dog? There is nothing dog-like about this pose. Does anyone else call it Cobra… or did I invent that?
p.s. more yoga talk
I’ll admit that I was not wardrobe-ready for this spell of warm weather we’re experiencing in Ireland. I have suffered the consequences of ignoring the weatherman. Getting dressed in the mornings has become very frustrating as I fixate on that one essential item that’s missing from the closet: the perfect jeans shorts.
The pair I’m after are low-rise, mid-thigh, relaxed, distressed pale denim. A kind-of shortened boyfriend jean, if you will.
(I’d wear mine with stripes too)
The Autumn/Winter stuff has started to creep into stores, but I refuse to give up on my Summer mission. Ideas?
All photos collected on pinterest
Last week was just one of those weeks. I was juggling a ton of stuff. Except I can’t actually juggle, so really I was just throwing stuff in the air and waiting for it to come back and hit me in the face.
When the weekend arrived, my to-do list had been reduced to one simple instruction: Sort your shit out. Working out what that entailed was the cause of some emotional stress, to which my body automatically responds by ingesting ice-cream and gin, separately and generously. Hashtag Science. Hashtag notreally.
That’s how a second item came to be added to the list: Make ice-cream and cocktails. Immediately, the sorting of my shit (whatever that even meant…) didn’t seem so important after all.
Sage Syrup
(make this first)
What you’ll need:
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
Small handful of fresh sage
Here’s how:
Combine all three ingredients in a pan over medium heat, allowing the sugar to dissolve. Remove from the heat, remove the sage, cover and allow to cool completely. Store in an airtight jar/ bottle in the fridge.
Blackberry Sage Spritzer
What you’ll need:
Fresh blackberries
Sage syrup
Good quality gin (I used Bombay Sapphire)
Sparkling water
Ice
Here’s how:
Half fill a glass with ice. In a shaker, muddle a handful of blackberries. Add equal quantities of gin and sage syrup. Add a few cubes of ice and shake well. Strain into the glass and top with soda water. Garnish with a fresh blackberry or two and serve immediately.
Recipe by Joylicious via Nao Me Mandes Flores. Mine looks a little different since I used more blackberries and make it a shorter (read: more alcoholic) cocktail.
On some rare, sweet occasions in this life, things just fall into place while you lie slothfully on the beach, becoming further engrossed in your book and sipping on Blackberry Sage Spritzers. Cheers to those times!
I did it! At the weekend, I made the Barrack Obama of ice-creams. I’d like to thank my Sister, Fiona for her unwavering support and encouragement and God for not letting the custard curdle.
The whole tub has been consumed, exactly 24 hours after I started making it. Of course.
Recipe here.
€5 has been donated to UNICEF Ireland for the completion of this ‘thing’. Click here if you too would like to donate online.
If a tree falls in the woods and there is nobody around to hear it, does it make a sound? If I join a gym, then never go, does it make any difference? These two questions are essentially the same question, and the scientific answer is no. It doesn’t make a sound. It doesn’t make a difference.
It seems like it would though, right?
I was tempted, in order to support my argument, to do a ‘before and after’. A photo of me before I signed up, and another one a few hours later, after I had parted with my membership fee; a few pounds lighter… or a few euro at least. I could have posed for the first sullen-faced in a tight, flesh-toned onesie, while nursing a particularly bad hangover. For the second, I would put on a bra, some make-up and something black and flattering. I’d smile toothily to prove how much happier I was about my body, and my life in general.
“How did you do it Thelma?”
“I joined the gym”
If only it were that easy.
€5 has been donated to UNICEF Ireland for the completion of this ‘thing’. Click here if you too would like to donate online.
The best part about airports lies in what they symbolize. Airports are places of bookends: new beginnings and long-awaited endings, arrivals and departures, hellos and goodbyes. We start in one city to end in another hundreds or thousand miles away. You enter from a desert and exit into a blizzard. In from winter, out into summer. In from familiarity, out into something completely foreign. Or vice versa. An airport is a place of transit, and not just geographically. I wish there was some sort of time-lapse to show how people change between departures and arrivals. When I arrive back home from being away, I’m never the same person as when I left.
— Alex Brueckner
Jay Z’s 99 problems have been illustrated by Ali Graham. This here might just be the best thing on the internet.
More problems here.
Being tender and open is beautiful. As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed. Too sensitive. Too mushy. Too wishy washy. Blah blah. Don’t let someone steal your tenderness. Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things. Whether it’s a song, a stranger, a mountain, a rain drop, a tea kettle, an article, a sentence, a footstep… feel it all.
- Zooey Deschanel
