Out the Window

Squeegee photo by KSK

The windows in my office were 15+ years dirty.

I recently got a grant from the Advancing Black Arts in Pittsburgh Program to complete the oral history manuscript I started in 1997 about “Big George” and The Hill District.

The grant will allow me to work on the project for the next year, so I bought a couple of new desks. Which made the view through window-filth feel like a bad omen for the project.

So I cleaned the windows, inside and out, with my brass squeegee. And I don’t feel like a goldfish in a scum-tank anymore.

I can see.

Cup O’ Chia

IMG_20150122_140214_406 (photo by KSK)

Don’t mess with me and my chia. I’m telling you. Especially not during The Year of the Stomach.

If you’re like me, you first found out about chia via the Chia Pet.

Leave it to America to turn a Superfood into a hair-do.

A three tablespoon serving of chia has 20% of the recommended daily allowance of calcium, and 15% of iron. It also has 5 grams of protein and 11 grams of fiber, and is high in antioxidants, magnesium, and omega-3’s.

All in just 150 calories.

My new thing is to take three tablespoons of chia seeds, add a cup of hot water, and drink it like a hearty tea.

Over the summer I put two tablespoons in a cup, filled it with cold water, and left it in the fridge for an hour or so, by which time it turned into a refreshing drink.

You’d think you’d taste the dots, but the water turns the seeds into a thick gel. The first time I tried it I was afraid of a disgusting flavor, but it doesn’t taste like much.

Chia keeps you full for a long time so have some before a long meeting or while travelling. It’s also great to have late at night when you want to eat but don’t really need to.

I’m waiting for an editor’s feedback on an essay I wrote. So I thought I’d pass the time by writing about chia.

Be careful. After hearing about my chia, a friend from Cave Canem grossed her colleague out by drinking chia out of a mason jar throughout the workday.

I drink mine out of a cup I got at the Seconds Warehouse during a Fiestaware tent sale.

If you think it’s gross, one day you’ll see-a. In the future, everyone will drink chia.

Compost Blog Post

compost (photo by KSK)

What would I do without my compost!

Before the black outside bin, I loved an indoor worm bin. And the worms within.

How food scraps DISAPPEARED but not really. I remember the first time I realized our earth is worm poop.

I used to use empty 32oz yogurt containers to hold food scraps before composting. But now I use plastic bags from Giant Eagle.

I have a love/hate relationship with The Food Scrap Bag on the bottom fridge shelf. It’s pleasant and unpleasant. I don’t wanna take it out.

Until I take it out. Especially at dusk, or in the just after. The almost dark.

The sky with the last of itself left, lets me barely see Fall leaves in the bin. And I know I’ll write about the leaves. And the bin. And the rotten.

So I take pictures for the Compost Blog Post.

And then I’m the lady in the dark flashing her phone camera into what must look like a garbage can behind the over-trimmed bush that used to hide the bin.

Because I didn’t want my neighbors to see it and give me shit for it.

But since the over-trim summer of 2014, everyone can see it. And I don’t care anymore because I am the bin. And the worms within.

The more I write this blog, the less there is to hide.

And FLASH a man walking his dog wonders what the hell. FLASH I took about thirty pictures trying to get a perfect one. FLASH I wanted the circle in the middle but FLASH I couldn’t see where it was until the flash FLASHed.

I got a perfect one, but decided to post an Imperfect. One that looks like wind in the bin.

What we love isn’t perfect.

Is anyway.

Cheap-O Food Muscle


I love the names of local grocery stores.

Ours is Giant Eagle. My favorite so far is FOOD LION. I’ve never been in a Piggly Wiggly but hopefully one day. Oh and Nugget Markets. And Roundy’s. I’d love to go to Roundy’s.

What I DON’T love is the outrageousness of my grocery bill. And how much I’m spending on eating out. And on my gluten-free dairy-free health food junk food.


Continue reading

The Ear in My Stomach

ear (photo by KSK)

I’m listening to “The Gifts of Imperfection” by Brené Brown on CD. I’ve read it before, but thought I’d listen this time in case it absorbs better that way.

I’m not a big audio book person, but it’s actually pretty cool to hook myself up to an old boom box with giant headphones, crawl into bed, and just listen.

This is a new kind of productivity for me. The resting, reading, and reclining kind.

While I listen (and try not to multi-task) I DO let myself do one extra thing: put my hands on my stomach and send L O V E into it.

It’s my way of starting to make up for decades of critical self-talk and side eye, in this, The Year of the Stomach.

How do I send LOVE into it? I don’t think there’s a wrong way, but what I do is just hold my hands over different areas of my stomach, and allow loving healing energy to leave my hands and go into my stomach.

Which made me wonder about something this morning.

What if every time I’m critical of my stomach, it doesn’t stop at the surface? What if I’m sending bad juju straight into my internal organs?

And if my internal organs are listening, have I been wishing them ill health?


Really time to stop playing with THAT possibility so…

If there’s an ear in my stomach, may it hear words like this:

I love you

I love you

Thank you

I love you.