Greetings once again readers. It's been a while since my last instalment, but I do not come back to you empty handed. While I will be returning to all things fashion just shortly, I wanted to share with you my recent experience. As you may already have gleaned from previous posts, after my recent surgery I had a bit of time off to
Sure, plonking-down in an encampment in the middle of the Great Plains in mid November (and again in January) may seem like a rather strange choice after major surgery, but in my case it very likely saved me from myself. I'm the type that within fifteen minutes of waking up in the recovery room, will start the workout countdown…checking off the minutes until I can try to do burpees again, or some other such athletic endeavour that you're not supposed to do for a while after surgery. I figured that a visit to Standing Rock would be a welcome distraction, an opportunity to help out where I might, and hopefully a chance to not only join a historic movement, but also finally learn something real and tangible about the first people of the lands that I grew up on and around in my home state of Wisconsin. Because let's be honest here, we are getting little to none of that in school. At all. Not even a little bit.