A title like that can only mean one thing: more weird Jiu-Jitu sh*t. (Sorry.)

A recent class was front attack defenses: guns, knives, and, I guess realistically it would be a baseball bat? Whatever. Rubber guns, knives, and big sticks were tossed in the center of the mat for us to practice with.

HRH and I got turns with the knives and sticks, but the guns were in short supply. When class ended, I lamented not getting much gun defense practice, so HRH, face full of compassion, asked, “Want me to shoot you?”

Naturally, “Yes, please,” was the response because #OnlyInJiuJitsu.

At one point earlier, I was looking at a 45 degree angle, talking to Instructor when HRH tried to overhand stab me with the fake knife. With zero hesitation, I stepped in and forearm blocked without looking.

Instructor said, “Daaaangg. That was instinct!” and walked over to fist bump me.

I didn’t want to tell him that was the first Taekwondo defense you learn as a white belt. I’ve done it a million times and have been teaching it to my son and others at his school as part of an after school TKD program.

I’m glad I had the opportunity to discover it had become instinctual.

And now for something literary!

Yvette at Priorhouse blog shares about the latest book in a series. 

The This Is How series explores the everyday experiences that quietly shape who we are — how we grow, how we work, and how we eat. Each volume brings together diverse voices through story, memoir, fiction, and poetry.

The newest release, This Is How We Eat, is now available on Amazon and Kindle.

This anthology moves from self to family, from kitchen to community. Seventeen authors explore how food shapes identity, memory, belief, belonging, and care. Fifteen of the contributors wrote memoir, bringing vulnerability and warmth to the collection. The result is a book filled with sensory detail, cultural crossings, quiet rituals, and yes — cakerific recipes.

Here’s a peek inside with a mini-interview: 

Q: Is this a cookbook?
Prior: Not exactly. There are no measurements or oven temperatures. But there are dumplings crossing continents, dal and chai steeped in meaning, grandmother gardens, chowder debates, and flour-based creations that show up whenever people gather.

Q: Why does flour keep appearing?
Prior: I wish I knew. Without prompting, authors kept writing about cakes, pies, pancakes, naan, banana bread, toast. Across cultures, simple ingredients return when we celebrate, remember, or need comfort.

Q: What surprised you most?
Prior: The memoir. I expected a balance of fiction, poetry and nonfiction. Instead, fifteen memoir chapters arrived — about migration, faith, body image, budgeting, paradigm shifts in eating, gardening with grandkids, staying open to new information, hospitality, scarcity, abundance, and the quiet ways we care for one another.

Some of the memoirs even weave in poetry, giving the reflections rhythm and lift. The two fiction chapters that came in were thankfully hearty enough to anchor the ending, giving readers a strong and satisfying close after so much intimate storytelling.

Q: What might readers feel while reading?
Prior: Hunger. Nostalgia. Warmth. Lemon zest. Maybe a little ache. Food has a way of unlocking memory.

Q: What do you hope readers do after finishing the book?
Prior: Call someone about and share a meal. Set the table with intention. Write about how food might have impacted their life. Save the last slice of cake for someone else. Pull up a chair. The table is longer than you think. 🙂

Super sweet–in more ways than one. Go check out the book!

And now for something not sweet…

The bulb vegetable found in the eye sockets of the mummified Ramses IV is onions. Sort of ironic, if you think about it.

New Q: What is the only state with a non-rectangular flag?