That's how I describe the air in a museum. It's just a wholly amazing atmosphere and I'm always here for it. Yesterday, my girls and I headed downtown into Dallas and I finally, finally visited the Dallas Museum of Art. I've lived here for two years and have been aiming to go ever since I …
be our guest.
There we all are, sitting in our living room in our old house in Ghana, surrounded by endless laughter and fascinating conversations. My parents are there; also uncles, aunts, various relatives, and longtime family friends that might as well be kin to us, being that I've known them and have been around them for as …
💯
If you've been here for a while or recently stopped by to take a look at my little corner of the Internet, you know that I am Ghana-born, partially Ghana-raised, birthed by a Ghanaian woman and man, product of Ghanaian ancestry. Honestly, I've never wondered if there was anything else in my blood. I just …
Blogvember #29: The Baby Steps Gourmet.
Cooking is an art form. And in a world of cuisine Van Goghs, I'm best described as the lady with tracing paper who would love to just copy the art without doing all the work. When I was 15, my mother devised a plan: she, my sister and I would take turns cooking. She showed …
Blogvember #15: Your Square Peg.
Had no clue what to talk about today. My equilibrium is off and I want to nap. So here's a photo of me at 8 years old, sitting for a passport photo, giving you frosty face/don't come at me/who do you think you are?/just try me. An expression that has served me well through the …
Throwback Thursday: The Scowler.
Meet your Square Peg, a.k.a., me. I found this photo in my mom's "secret" stash of photos one evening last week. I should tell you that my mother's things--her clothes, perfume, shoes, etc.,--have long fascinated me, which means that since I was little girl, sneaking into her room to see what I could find and …
calling all big heads.
Let's get right to it, shall we? For most of my days on this planet, I've been reminded by my mother about how this thing that sits on my neck nearly cost her her life. If you have a large coconut, I'm sure you've heard similar stories from your mom. And lest you think Mom …
Umbrellas.
Unlike Southern California, it really doesn't rain in West Africa. With the exception of the Harmattan season, where I have sweet memories of my mom gently rubbing lip balm across my lips to protect against the dry, windy weather outside, nothing really disrupted the hot, sunny days back home. Imagine the interesting reaction me and …
The Unmarried African Woman. (shudder)
Some of you know this woman. She's your sister, your friend, your fellow cubicle dweller who insists on playing 70s soft rock on her Pandora station, your daughter, your cousin. Some of you don't believe that the fact that she's an Unmarried African Woman (UAM)Â needs to be capitalized, or even an issue. And if that's …
from the start.
I've always been different.I entered the world quietly. No crying or whimpering. As a result, the doctor gently swatted me on the bottom. My mother said I turned my brand new head toward the doctor and seemed to gaze at him with disdain. Like, did you just SWAT me, fool? I then responded to the swat with a slight whimper. …
This Square Peg. 