Manka’s Pancakes

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pancakes

Amy wasn’t up to writing a TWIFH post, so ya’ll get Home Ec this week instead of History class.

I developed this recipe largely based on this recipe from Against All Grain. I’ve tweaked it enough that I feel like I can call it mine at this point, but I was heavily dependent on that recipe to start me on the right track. My recipe uses more bananas and more eggs and (unfortunately for people making it for the first time) is based on a mix that I have pre-made in a large container in my pantry. I don’t know how to alter this recipe for a single batch. Sorry. Read full post

Yoga With a Capital Y

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I thought I would let people know that in my search for images to use for the top of this article I came across this pic which is borderline NSFW (barely-not-naked man doing lotus pose) but you totally need to see because wow that’s fucking impressive.

Gopi was my first and best yoga teacher. It was an unlikely thing, when I was first looking at yoga, to choose her out of all the teachers in the Lawrence area. For one, her studio was in a different town, about half an hour south of Lawrence (that’s a long drive when there’s probably two yoga teachers for every square mile of this burg). I could probably have found a class close enough to walk to, but I picked the one whose route included not only a two-lane, unlit country highway but a quarter mile of gravel road and, finally, a one-lane dirt driveway that curved and turned around several buildings (as well as cows, cats, and peacocks). In addition to the drive, there was serious dedication to chanting at the open and close each class—not just your basic “om.” While we were in a pose, Gopi often read scripture, passages from Light On Yoga, or stories about the divine creatures, sages, and objects that gave their names to poses. This was Yoga with a capital-fucking-Y. Read full post

Support Live Music

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I struggled for weeks to write something about Living My Best Fucking Life but things are rough, really rough right now and I just couldn’t do it. The Burgomaster suggested I just write about something I liked, something that made me happy. A memory of when I didn’t think about living my best life because I was already living it. This is what came out.

I attended my first concert in 1984. My mother took me and three friends to Kansas City to see Huey Lewis and the News. I would have rather made the four-hour trip to see Duran Duran, but Mommy actually liked Huey Lewis, so Huey Lewis it was. It was fine. Other than being a first-time arena concert experience it was not particularly notable. The second most memorable moment of the evening was when April (a pocket-sized girl whose body could not keep up with her heart’s desire to be at the front of the crushing crowd) was lifted over the barricade by security when she started to faint. The most memorable moment was returning to the car afterward and finding all our purses had been stolen out of it. I have little memory of the concert itself. Read full post

Boiled eggs

Clever Manka, · Categories: Manka's Posts · Tags: ,
eggs

Look at my beautiful children

There are probably a thousand methods for boiled eggs and I feel like I tried them all before landing on a method that worked for me. So many green yolks and rubbery whites, y’all. So, so many. I get smooth, soft eggs from cooking them this way, even when they’re fresh (24-hours from the local chicken farm fresh) which are supposedly the most difficult to peel. Read full post

The Goal Post

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Bet you didn’t think you’d see a sports metaphor on this site, did you? Neither did I.

I’ve never been a person who much liked (or comprehended) goals, and most of the goals I have entertained have been food/weight related. Not always optimal or encouraging for positive growth, and I acknowledge the absurdity of never setting anything other than body-related goals. I don’t think I’m alone, but I also think most people are more familiar with goal-setting (whether that familiarity is healthy or not is another matter). I can’t even tell you why I never set goals. I simply continuously failed to do so. Instead, various options fell in front of me, and I chose whether to pursue the new path or not (or had the choice made for me). Read full post

Now it’s personal

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Here’s the resolution to my dilemma about not-specifically-thematic personal posts here as opposed to just essays. Read full post

Ninety minutes at the DMV

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This is just a stock photo, not the line at the DMV. The DMV had chairs.

When I walked in the door of the DMV at 9:00am, I knew I’d made a bad decision. I’d been awake since 5:30, plenty of time to make it when they opened at 7:00. But I’d waited, just puttering around the house because I had other errands at a store that didn’t open until 10am. The line was long. Very long.

I asked someone in line where was the “take a number” hook/machine. They said there wasn’t one. Just the end of a line of black plastic chairs that snaked around the outside edge of the room. When someone finished at the counter, the DMV called for the next person, and everyone stood up and moved down one chair. There was a man with a walker two people ahead of me. His wife had to help him up out of his current seat and into the next one nineteen times. Read full post