I seriously long to be more glamorous. Why, if I had my way, I might wear this every day.
Domitia two-tone caftan from Temperley London. So lovely that I'm tempted to rob a bank.
Marrakech: and a tale of exclamation points
oh my, I feel like doing a handstand (or even two or three).
This blog won Best African Weblog in the 2011 Annual Weblog Awards, the Bloggies. Thank you so much for your support:-)
Image taken in Essaouira, Morocco.
Marrakech: and a tale of organized soap (or something like that)
Dear friends,
Things have been a bit confusing around here. From uprisings and marches for freedom in the countries where I work, to uprisings and demands for no homework at home. Add to that that some very pressing deadlines, and it's controlled chaos at best.
I find when things get that way, it's good to organize. I use a time management technique that has been so helpful to me that I wanted to share it with you. It's called the Pomodoro Technique. You can learn more about it right here.
And then there are my drawers. Take a peek here.
These are actually my lingerie chest drawers. There are other pretty things in there, but, ahem, I thought it might be wise to show you the soap drawer. (This is a PG sort of blog, after all.)
But I would love to hear about your organizational tools and techniques. What do you have for me?
Love,
Maryam in Marrakesh
PS There are still three more slots waiting to be filled in my upcoming retreat at Peacock Pavilions in Marrakech in May. Please come! We will have so much fun! Find out more about it here.
PPS And if you haven't already, could you, would you, might you, vote for this My Marrakesh blog in the 2011 Annual Weblog Awards in the Africa category. Mentions on Facebook and other blogs would be very gratefully accepted (and please do let me know about them so that I can thank you, properly). I've been a little fragile lately, and so your support would be such a nice thing:-)
Somewhere in the Cosmos: a tale of Harry and sunsets
My Uncle Harry was tall and large like a bear, with a full head of hair and a tidy side part. Despite his height, he was a shy man with a gentle, funny laugh and quiet, interesting theories. An architect and inventor, my Uncle Harry once installed a fireman's pole in his house because it seemed a sensible form of transportation. He also designed a folding bicycle that was given to the champions one year at the Olympic games. His pets were almost as special as he -- an unfazed and wise iguana and 2 white husky dogs who sang (rather amazingly) in chorus.
My Uncle Harry died this past weekend. Cancer.
In the days just before, my father, sitting by his bed, told him that he was sure he would come back as a butterfly in his next life. As for me, I think my Uncle Harry drifted off, just like a very memorable sunset at the end of a long and beautiful day.
Goodnight and goodbye, Uncle Harry.
Images from Essaouira, Morocco