A Homeopathy Recipe: FIRE CIDER

   Long story short: I've become somewhat of a "natural" person. Perhaps it all began when my mom forced our family through a "tofu" stage back in 1997. Or, when I married one of the most health-puzzles of a man back in 2010. OR, definitely after becoming a mom. Because all moms are a little crazy. 

   I could barely keep a hamster, let alone an IKEA plant alive before our two-year old son came along, and now, now I'm kind of like Rafiki in the "Lion King." Smearing weird concoctions on your forehead... And although I'm a firm believer (whatever that really means) in numerous crunchy topics, please note, we do eat chicken nuggets from time to time. So, there's that. We have not re-entered the tofu stage. Yet. 

   End of disclaimer. Let's segway back into what this post is all about! 

...

Surviving Cold & Flu season! (Office germs from Daniel and playground germs from the Bean. Yet, somehow mama usually is the one who gets hit hardest. What's up with that?) 

We try and stay away from the OTC medicines or quickly-prescribed antibiotics for the average sniffle and fever.* That means my collection of herbs and natural tonics is growing. As well as my leg hair. HAHA. Sorry, bad hippie joke. 
Back on topic!

One of my new favorite things to have on hand, especially during the winter, is a batch of Fire Cider. This folk remedy has been used for generations to ward off sickness, relieve sinus congestion, aid in digestion, increase circulation, and give your immunity a boost. The basic recipe highly popularized by herbalist {Rosemary Gladstar} is easy to prepare with ingredients usually found in most kitchens. And if you make this, your kitchen will smell SO good during the prep. AND if you drink this, you might need to invest in some breath mints, (but hopefully, less Dr. visits!)




Fire Cider 
hot spicy sweet

1/2 cup peeled and diced horseradish 
1/2 cup peeled and diced garlic 
1/2 cup peeled and diced onion 
1/4 cup peeled and diced ginger 
1/4 cup peeled and diced turmeric 
1 jalapeno, chopped
1 orange, quartered and thinly sliced 
1/2 lemon, quartered and thinly sliced 
1/2 cup chopped parsley 
1 teaspoon cayenne
2 to 3 cups raw unfiltered apple cider vinegar 
1/4 cup raw honey, or more to taste 

Place all of the vegetables, fruits, herbs, and spices in a clean 1-quart jar. Fill the jar with vinegar, covering all the ingredients. Seal with lid. (Metal lid? Place a piece of parchment or wax paper between the jar and the lid to prevent corrosion from the vinegar) Shake well. 

Let the jar sit for 3 to 6 weeks. Strain the vinegar into a clean jar. Add honey to taste, (start with 1/4 cup). Refrigerate and use within a year. 

Take 3 tbsp at the first sign of a cold or 1 tbsp daily to boost your immune system. Also, can mix with juice or drizzle on a salad. (Some other great additions: Rosemary, Thyme, Oregano, Peppercorns, different Pepper varieties, etc.) 


...

Cheers to your health! 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}


 *Note: Of course, severe illnesses should require professional medical attention and treatment. But, I've seen firsthand how the sometimes "easy" option of harsh drugs from the doctor's office can harm, more than heal. A quick solution for a long-term situation. The fast-fix band-aid to cover up a deeper problem. Yada Yada Yada. 

Consumer Alert: My Birthday Wish List

{via}

Today is February 28th. I'm sure it's someone's day of birth, somewhere. Literally, their birthday, righhhhhhht, NOW! Born! Birth.Day! I'm sure a thousand people all over the world are sitting at a Red Robin with their complimentary ice cream and a rousingly fast rendition of "clapclapclaphappybirthdaytoyouuuuuclapclapclap." I'm sure someone is turning 28 today, on the 28th. Oh that's fun. 

Alright, enough about you. Even though my birthday isn't for a few more weeks, and even though my New York trip was kind of (part of)* my birthday present, well, a girl can dream, right? 

Here's what I'm thinking would be fun to open up on the morning, afternoon, or evening of March 19th, (either this March 19th, or the next, next, next March 19th with a few of these items). Or anytime in this life. Or afterlife. We'll have AmazonPrime in Heaven, yes? 

1//Nuvrei Gift Card\\2//Ashley Tobin "Peace" Poster\\3//LimeCrime Opaque Lipstick in "Babette"\\4//Will Leather Goods Oaxacan Duffle\\5//Imogene + Willie Slim Jeans\\6//Rag&Bone Floppy Fedora\\7//GLOSSYBOX\\8//Alien eau de parfum Thierry Mugler\\9//"And The Mountains Echoed"

{Reality Check: I am a hesitant consumer/buyer/spender...but I do love compiling an organized numbered collage. Soooo, how would one go about DIY-ing these products. ha. JUST KIDDING. kind of}





*Daniel: "part of..." was used loosely and flippantly. I LOVE YOU! 


xoxo

{Bon Bon}

New York Fashion Week: The Truth Hurts, Bloggers

   

{Lincoln Center/2014}

   

   My dear friend JJ lives in the big city, specifically Midtown, so, of course I want to visit. Hello, Shake Shack. I mean, Hello, rekindling friendship. (We didn't even so much as glance at a Shake Shack this time. So bourgeois!)

It's becoming somewhat of a traditional trip-thing. Chocolate. Macarons. Brunch. Wine. Bergdorf. Daniel anxiously watching the banking account from the west coast. Return home to boy life and monster trucks and it's all good. Tradition!

The past two years, my itinerary has worked out best to have me go during Fashion Week. I say that like it's a bad thing. Annnd, well.

Fashion week is...cold. Fashion week is also, inspiring, energetic, and just plain fun. 

Gone are the days when you could waltz into any show "dressed to impress" though. You'll need to flash that invitation inside of your Chloe bag. Of which, I have neither. 

"I swear I'm an important person! People know me! Kelly Cutrone said hello to me backstage last winter. That Fred Meyer campaign of 2002? Allllll this. Right here." 

The security guards are not impressed this year.    

   Business Insider writes, "Over the last decade, the show has become crowded with fashion bloggers, street photographers, and others with little connection to the industry. But IMG Fashion, the company that puts together the annual show, tells The Wall Street Journal all of that is about to change.

   "It was becoming a zoo," Catherine Bennett, the senior vice president and managing director at IMG Fashion Events and Properties, said to the WSJ. "What used to be a platform for established designers to debut their collections to select media and buyers has developed into a cluttered, often cost-prohibitive and exhausting period for our industry to effectively do business."

   Honestly, they are so right. We shouldn't be there. I'm not buying a $5,000 coat anytime soon (in this lifetime). 20% of the media list from last year wasn't there. The Kardashians should definitely never ever never ever be there. 

Unless your name is Cara Delevigne or Anna Wintour (or Simon Doonan, Joe Zee, Grace Coddington, and you get the picture). Oh, and of course Bill Cunningham, cause, BILL FLIPPIN' CUNNINGHAM. He's so old and cute and can do whatever he wants. 

This year we hit up Milk Studios and the pop-up shops to check out those "up and comers" in fashion. They welcomed us Lincoln Center refugees with open arms and an open bar. My people! Cheap wine and reality tv stars? THIS is where I belong.  

And the bloggers were still in full force. 

We bumped into an entire room of people fangirling a certain famous fashion blogger that shall remain unnamed (unless you were to scroll through the night's IG hashtag, and if so, well done Sherlock) while she-herself-and her alone had an awkward faux photo shoot at a Marc Jacobs event. Nope, nope, just...can't. 

Of course, then we hopped in with our Daisy perfume props and, snap, click, print, Selfie! 

After all, it was a social media party. 

#hypocrites.  

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

2014! I Can Dig It.

{Most "Liked" Instagram photo of 2013}

Oh hey there. Don't mind me. Just dusting off the pixel cobwebs here. 
November thru, umm, right now has been delightfully busy. Equal parts real busy and fake busy. (You know the "fake" busy...where you frantically shift your priorities around on a continual basis, making things seem super important, especially during free time...either I'm working out OR eating chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. Either I'm blogging OR doing anything and everything but because that's what I want to do. the end) 

Long story short, the past several weeks: The Bean turned TWO! Daniel turned much much older than that! My Grandpa turned much much MUCH older than that! I fell down the stairs, like, all the way dowwwwwwwn, and bruised my *coccyx. And we celebrated Christmas about seven different times. (Bean's new go-to phrase is "One more present?")

Life is good, and the *gulp* older I get, the more I want to **truly live. 
(Hopefully without anymore slipping on hardwood floors) 



*Yes. You read that right. My coccyx. Fancy word for "Falling Flat on Your Butt and Bumping Down the Stairs like a Bugs Bunny Cartoon."  
Don't worry, it's all better now. My stocking was practically bursting in pairs of fuzzy socks WITH grippy bottoms. My family gets me. 

**1 Thessalonians 3:8! Holla!


xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Thoughts of a 23 Year Old

{via}

|Note: This was written 2 years ago, regarding the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami. My heart is the same for the Philippines right now|




Yesterday, 1200+ bloggers, including myself, decided to remain silent for the day to reflect on the tragedy in Japan. Throwing any personal agendas, politics, religion, and views to the wayside in order to show some love to a country so desperate for answers.

A community of imperfect people, coming together to shine a little light in all that dark and all that cold.

Some bloggers were silent. Some bloggers did what bloggers do best: blogged.

I'm proud of both, and in the end:

Life moves on.

To the blogger who remained silent: thank you.

To the blogger who wrote: thank you.

To the blogger who gave money: thank you.

To the blogger who gave a prayer: thank you.

To the blogger who asked questions: thank you.

To the blogger who couldn't think of the right words to say: thank you.

I say thank you because you reminded me of what is so powerful about our world. It's the feeling deep down inside each one of us that recognizes, in some way, what pain feels like. Sometimes we don't know the perfect way to express or empathize it, but we try our best.

We want to give what we have, even when we don't know where to begin.

Crisis stuns us momentarily and then pushes us into action.

Actions that portray differently in our individual lives.

Personally, I am overwhelmed with the sadness that reaches to every single corner of the world on a daily basis.

Some days I focus on it more. Some days I remember it more. Some days I act upon it more. Some days I speak out about it more. Some days I wish I could do more.

And some days, I am just consumed with the bubble of my own life,

let alone the weight of the world.

My heart is that you don't forget what these moments of reflection and response are truly about.

It's not to make us feel better about ourselves, put a checkmark on our humanitarian quota for the year, or portray ourselves as a "good" or better person.

Something inherently rises up within us and connects us.

Hope.

For one small moment, we can relate on a deeper level. We can feel like this world offers tiny windows of opportunity to live for something bigger, even when we feel so small.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

They Like Me. They Really Really Like Me.

{portrait drawn by my friend Jane}

Friends, it happened again. Just the other day. 
Which reminded me of when it happened a few months ago, and a couple months before that, and the year before that, and...


I was scouted by a modeling agent. Again. 

This time it was a Los Angeles casting producer from, "The Face." I had just changed Bean's diaper, had song and danced through the nap time routine, and then checked my email to see a, "Hey Bonnie! This is so and so from shmeeshmaashmeee and yada yada yada Naomi Campbell! Are you interested?" 

I never responded. 

Possibly, because Naomi Campbell terrifies the living bejeezus out of me, and please, don't you know Tyra Banks is my gurrrrrrl! 


Hopefully this won't sound like a pitiful "woe is me" kind of topic or that I'm acting like the stuck-up hair-primping emoticon girl you sometimes use in your texts. If you reallllllly know me in the real life, you'd know that when I was first scouted at the Sweet Factory at age 14, and started appearing in local advertisements, and was prepping for an imminent move to Asia, I plain ol' didn't want anyone to know. Ever.  

Someone brought a magazine plastered with my glossy face to school once, and I wanted to crawl under my desk until summer.  

That kind of attention was (is) not me. 
If they asked about the Nike casting call, I'd be like, "yeahhhh, hey! look! Audrey's sharing her lunchable! Pepperoni pizza!" 

I also know exactly what kind of model category I belong to. Not the supermodel one. Not the catalogue one. I'm in the weird one. You'd probably find my face in some underground campaign being shot by Juergen Teller. We'll just pretend it's either Marc Jacobs or Celine, (but most likely for some indie faux chinchilla overalls designer in Tokyo)

My "Look" since about 5th grade has been tall, scrawny, and "exotic." Well, exotic since birth...except then I looked like Dora the Explorer and now I look like, Jasmine or Mulan or Pocohontas. It changes on a daily basis. In Africa, everyone thought I was Lucy Lui. I swear, if I had a nickel for every time someone yelled "Charlie's Angels" at me...

Anywayyyyyyyy. I also look about 16 years old. That always helps. Badabingbadaboom.
Here come the model scouts. 

They have approached me at malls, grocery stores, parking lots, restaurants, state fairs, college campuses, sporting events, parks, beaches, on the street, by myself/with friends/with family, nationally, internationally, concerts, that one MUSE concert in particular where an agent from MUSE (modeling agency) approached me mid-slurp at the drinking fountain and all I heard was MUSE! and the business card said MUSE! and obviously after quickly putting two and two together, concluded that this must be my lucky MUSE! day. I was going to meet MUSE! (the band). She was handing me a backstage pass?! or something? gift card to the Matt Bellamy fan club? Free song download? 
"Wait. What?" 
"Have I ever modeled before? COME ON!"

I guess being asked those five words again and again over the past ten years, (TEN!) has jaded my view on the whole thing. Honestly, it is flattering. 
Someone (besides the plumber asking if my mom is home), thinks I'm still young.

xoxo

{Bon Bon} 

What Makes a Home

{Design Philosophy: Approachable meets inspirational with equal parts form and function and a dash of personality, plus a few dust bunnies} 

   Recently I was having a conversation with my friend Em about how to decorate a house. How do you make your space comfortable, livable, and real all the while, maintaining a certain "je ne sais quoi?" Since we both have highly active toddler tornados inhabiting our home-atmospheres, that "je ne sais quoi" usually means piles of toys that can be quickly swept away morning, afternoon, evening, and especially, right before company arrives. 

   About once a month, I'll even have an almost Pinterest-worthy place with carefully curated stacks of books, wiped down baseboards, and empty laundry baskets/washer/dryer. 

Not counting the hidden pile of clothes stuffed in a suitcase under the bed, 'cause that's just always gonna be there. 

For about 20 minutes (or 2 hours if the tiny tornado is sleeping), the hardwood floors are gleaming and the pillows artfully plumped. Only the pretty stuff is out on my kitchen counters. The ugly toaster oven can stay; he makes a mean pizza bagel and I definitely have a soft spot for pizza bagels. 

   This! THIS is a home! Clean, tucked-away, and perfect. 

   About once a month, I almost believe it. 

Then a certain someone scribbles on the wall with a dry erase marker while we are on Skype with his Auntie Lana. 

...

   My house would be sooooooo much better with that new EVERYTHING from [insert favorite store].(I happen to be "Target budget with ABC Carpet & Home taste.") Well, yeah, technically it would. The clouds might even part for a few seconds, baby angels playing harps, time stands still, and peace on earth. Have you seen those rugs?! As much as I appreciate, (oh so appreciate), a beautiful Apartment Therapy photo shoot, no amount of stuff, (or mid-century modern lack thereof), will ever ever ever make my house the complete home. 

   I don't remember what my parents' living room arrangement was like back in 1993, (we did have a gingham sofa, so, you can imagine), but I do remember leaping off the staircase onto the sofa while the railing was being installed. 

I have no clue what kind of stovetop Em's mom had in her kitchen, but I DO remember that one time (and last time) she experimented with an orange chicken recipe. 

   Years later, and I'm still laughing. 

   That is what I want my home to represent. 

Building on those memories of community, hospitality, and warmth. 

There might always be an unfurnished area that we are "working on," a comfy old rocking chair meant for cuddles instead of (Instagram) "likes," and definitely my fair share of failed recipes. 

[Insert all those sappy heart cliche things here]...  

that's what makes it a home. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}