tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82733372476902636392024-11-01T08:33:43.272+02:00Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-56849006120738147462013-05-18T15:57:00.001+02:002013-05-18T15:57:46.489+02:00

I would love to write my own post on this, but life is a bit hectic on this side of crazy-ville. This article is extremely interesting, check it out! What do you think?

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-85460539762185406412013-01-15T22:56:00.000+02:002013-01-15T22:56:01.896+02:00

Well look at that. It's two weeks into 2013. When did that happen? Certainly not at a time that I was taking notes. This year has really snuck up on me, and let me tell you, I am about as prepared for 2013 as I was for that Population Genetics test in 3rd year (the one where I achieved an outstanding result of 8%). Last year, like any self-respecting A type personality with two X chromosomes

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-39018949071637510352012-12-04T23:55:00.000+02:002013-01-15T23:06:35.448+02:00

If anybody is keeping up with my little blog, you will know that I have been away for a glorious two weeks in the Mother City, Cape Town. It was marvellous and I shall post some photos just to make you all jealous.  This even makes me a little jealous. Of myself. Wine farms in Stellenbosch Simon's Town. I have also just noticed that I only seem to have one pose in my

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-25878425990243840022012-11-14T22:34:00.002+02:002012-12-06T09:40:42.938+02:00

I'm off to Cape Town tomorrow. Poor, poor me. [Image source: runawaynow.com] This has made my life quite hectic recently: finalising work in the hospital, choosing wine farms to tour in Stellenbosch, planning beach outfits - I know, hellish days in Africa. And all this hustle and bustle has been interspersed with brief periods of absolute panic. Panic, dear reader, brought about

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-4589415473454425672012-11-12T09:53:00.002+02:002012-12-06T09:39:36.489+02:00

There comes a time in every dietitian’s career (or, more accurately, several times) when he/ she feels ready to give someone a good old-fashioned strangle. This murderous urge is set off by the birth of Yet Another Fad Diet. I have just battled through such a time. Sometimes being a dietitian can get to your head. [Image source: examiner.com] It all started when I had the bad luck of

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-31226405479327750442012-11-05T13:25:00.002+02:002013-01-14T17:46:54.435+02:00

Oatmeal flapjacks with peanut butter cinnamon sauce and sliced banana I love flapjacks. American pancakes. Crumpets. Whatever you want to call them, they bring me back to the days when my mom would make mountains and mountains of different flavoured Brumpets on a Saturday morning and us three kids would just stuff ourselves silly. I can't find a photo of our old Brumpet ready-mixes, so

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-29195198069747437342012-10-31T17:34:00.002+02:002012-12-06T09:38:08.398+02:00

For a larger infographic or download, click here I am not a physically active person by nature. I would do everything I could to avoid Phys Ed at school. If hand-eye-ball coordination could be measured with numbers, with {10 = Roger Federer} and {0 = tries to throw a ball forwards and instead throws it backwards}, I would be {-1 = tries to throw a ball and instead pokes herself in the eye

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-85304497142731035302012-10-28T22:34:00.005+02:002012-10-31T22:15:01.934+02:00

Meet the green monster. I have had the most awful week. I want to explain it, but it is such a litany of misery and woe that merely typing it makes me want a tub of Sally William's ice-cream. Actually, anything makes me want a tub of Sally William's ice-cream. But this week, I not only wanted to consume a tub, I wanted to dive into one and stay there until the week ended. Or until I drowned.

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-17729073112333865002012-10-27T00:38:00.001+02:002012-11-04T18:20:11.250+02:00

One of the things I absolutely cannot cook is fresh fish. It is far too delicate for me to use the cooking style to which I have become accustomed (i.e. throwing a few things in a pot and hoping for the best). One of the things I absolutely can do, however, is open a tin of tuna. We should all be eating fish at two to three times a week, for protection from

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-50716411025280096282012-10-25T13:24:00.000+02:002012-10-27T21:11:29.635+02:00

I hope you have your learning pants on, because today we’re going to get scientific. I go on a lot about glycaemic index (GI) and low GI meals. One might say I am obsessed with it. One might be right. So for the purposes of clarity and doing my job for generalised nutrition education, I’m going to do a short explanation of the concept, why it’s so important to me, and why it should be

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-13176851155610816232012-10-20T16:52:00.000+02:002012-10-27T21:13:35.184+02:00

I have a small mental block when it comes to weekends. I float through the week on a cloud of vegetarian dinners, gym classes and high fibre breakfasts, only to descend into a pit of takeaways and cocktails over the weekend. It's fun, but I inevitably end up dragging through Monday apologising to a grumpy liver and sluggish metabolism. My mission for the last few weeks has been: Healthy

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-19266806098734941852012-10-14T22:42:00.000+02:002012-10-27T20:15:33.526+02:00

Yesterday I did a Very Dietitiany Thing. Having being obsessed with Angela's vegan recipes from Oh She Glows for the last week, I got an urgent, almost primal urge to own... Chia seeds. What are chia seeds? I didn't know. But I wanted them. Unfortunately, I live in Mpumalanga. In South Africa. And I'm not entirely sure there is anyone else in this gorgeous country, let alone

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-58987055623492191802012-10-10T19:25:00.000+02:002012-10-27T21:16:53.557+02:00

[Background image source: digital-photograpy-school.com] A colleague and I were guest speakers at a school's health day today. Just as we were about to leave, one of the district health promoters  presented us each a big plate of food. Food that I would never have chosen for myself. There was an unspoken yet palpable expectation that we finish the meal. It was a gesture

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-41938890902264440172012-10-07T18:31:00.001+02:002012-10-27T20:27:10.751+02:00

Chilled beetroot, berry and honey soup Summer is officially here in beautiful South Africa (you may recall my enthusiastic moaning about the Lowveld heat), and goodness but it's lovely. Skies are an impossible blue, trees lush with greenery, and my little potplant family is thriving in a delightful manner. Meet the gang (clockwise from top left): Manuel, Miss Lavendar, Fawlty, The Piglets

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-52728610822403737832012-10-06T16:36:00.000+02:002012-10-27T20:29:06.996+02:00

Man alive but it is hot in Nelspruit. And humid. It is hot and humid, and friends, that is not as fun as it sounds. As soon as you turn your aircon off you feel the sweat start to eke out of your body, as soon as you step outside you feel an urgent need to lie down on the grass for a coma nap. Rooms and I have got all three fans on full blast; our hair is taking some strain but that doesn't

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-61991276615452069942012-10-05T13:09:00.001+02:002012-10-27T20:30:04.784+02:00

Lack of honesty is one of the pillars supporting disordered eating. Disordered eating, ranging from starving yourself to binging and purging to the simple guilt that accompanies an enormous piece of rich, gooey chocolate cake, is something I think most men and women have danced with at least once in their lives. Accordingly, fostering honesty can slowly starve disordered eating habits until

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8273337247690263639.post-35685049902249732202012-10-03T21:47:00.002+02:002012-10-27T20:30:52.428+02:00

The title of this post is a bit embarrassing. It makes me feel like I should be wearing feathers in my hair and spending my nights listening to reed flute music while I dance in the woods. But bear with me. I have tried this out and it's quite a winner. You don't always need a lake for meditation. [Image source: toningtheom.com] I am currently making my way through Martha Beck's 4-Day Win

Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11826943255208383362noreply@blogger.com1