Toluu : Blog Nosh Magazine

Blog Nosh Magazine

Satisfying your craving for fresh voices and delicious content.

{Originally Published on Secret Agent Mama}

Oh fiery colors, how short your stay,
Merrily tantalizing my sense of sight.
Against the blue sky, as if to blaze the way,
Towards the promise of a new day, bright.

It is in autumn that I reflect the most,
The end of the year spinning my mind around.
Like the trees that wait again to host,
My thoughts pause to absorb the sound.

Through the standstill, I look forward and back,
Considering past, dreams turn to a future of hope.
I wonder: Are the trees hopeful while they lack?
Or have they just found a way to cope?

My mind it is filled with worry and doubt.
Though my heart, a hopeful tree, dreams about.

Editors Pick from Jennifer at Playgroups are no place for children: Mishelle, or Secret A

Punk-in MuffinsNovember 20

{Originally posted on Fit Bottomed Girls}

The Fit Bottomed Girls are all about enjoying all that life has to offer, and sometimes life offers dessert. And the FBGs love us some dessert—and not just the fat-free type. Unfortunately, over consumption of mouth-watering desserts can get in the way of maintaining a fit bottom, and most of them aren’t exactly easy to make anyway. Have you ever actually tried making a Martha Stewart dessert? I did it once in college, and after a whole day in the kitchen, while staring at a smug photo of Martha with her perfectly frosted lemon cake, I began to feel inadequate in all areas of my life. (If I can’t get this dang cake’s icing smooth, how will I ever find a job, let alone start a solid career?!)

The FBGs are here to help (and hopefully save you from any of the above-mentioned self esteem snafus). We have a recipe that is so easy even the baking-impaired can succeed. And I personally guarantee its deliciousness. The muffins may not win in a taste test with Martha’s desserts, but you can make them in less than 30 minutes and maintain your sanity.

For the Punk-in Muffins (”punk-in” has a double meaning here, acti

Be generous. Always.November 18

{Originally posted on P E N S I E V E}

In its 15th and final season, hospital drama ER resurrected the dead: Anthony Edwards reprised his role as Dr. Mark Green last week in a series of flashbacks by Angela Bassett’s character, Cate Banfield.

When ER debuted in the Fall of ‘94, I had an infant and a two-year-old, and I’m sure escaping into TV melodrama was a welcome respite from the “storms” my little ones ravaged. I remember lying on our sofa nursing my son–right side, left side, right side, left–through ER, the news and then late nights with Leno and Letterman.

During the episodes leading up to his death, Dr. Green takes his daughter to Hawaii, to teach her “important” life lessons–how to drive, how to surf…I really don’t recall much else.

Except a last admonishment to her, one that has haunted me in the ensuing years.

“Be generous. Always.”

It struck me as odd, then, that a parent’s dying words would speak to generosity. It was unsettling

You’re Never Too Big To Introduce YourselfNovember 18

{Originally published on SmartWomansGuides}

Today I had an interesting and educational experience. One of the great bloggers I follow on Twitter introduced a friend of his to the community. This friend is apparently well-known by many but, unfortunately, not me. But, since I trust the blogger who recommended him, I went to go check out the newbie’s profile. But I was foiled - the newbie didn’t have a profile! Gasp!

In an effort at brevity, I joked that the newbie’s Twitter profile was a little slim - no website link, no bio, nada. Just his name and a picture (which was a nice picture, admittedly). Frankly, I didn’t want to have to google the newbie to find out about him. Maybe I’m too focused on instant gratification, but well, fair enough, maybe I am. The web is all about instant info and ease and convenience and I’ve bought in.

One of my other Twitter buds messaged that this newbie was already so well known that he didn’t need to create a profile to get followers and he was busy. Wow. Not only did I still not know about this newbie (who now I wanted to know about even more, since he’s so busy and great) but now I felt like an outside, the only one left in the world

The Shape of GriefNovember 13

{Originally posted on Schmutzie.com}

Over one year later, I am still discovering the shape of my grief over the loss of my uterus.

I miss a thing I could never see. I have no documentation of its existence. It does not show up in family photo albums. My clothing fits as it did before the surgery. I never touched it with my hands. I cannot trace its outlines in pictures or where it is no longer on my body.

The only evidence that it was ever here is a pregnancy test that I keep pushing to the back of the bathroom cupboard behind the cleaning supplies.

I do not like that it was cut up into tiny pieces and vacuumed out of me. I do not like that it became medical waste. No part of any body should be made into medical waste. Our bodies hold far too much power, far too much meaning, to be so degraded.

I am angry that I could not take it with me, that I could not find my own place to put to it to rest. I hate not knowing where its pieces are. I imagine it having its own sapling beneath which it could rest and feed its growth. I need to imagine it being less alone.

The shape of this grief is little more than a chronological line between two points, from there to here. It has yet find its flesh.

Editor’s pick by