It means “women who can take care of themselves,” and it’s the name of the organization for whom I will be interning beginning next week! Isuroon (isuroon.org) is a three-year-old nonprofit which advocates for Somalian women’s healthcare issues, but also educational, societal, and cultural issues unique to Somalian women in our community. The organization is well-known throughout our large Somalian population here in the Twin Cities; I will be focused on helping to get the word out to other parts of our society and ensure that Isuroon becomes familiar to all.
I’m super excited to get started on this new venture. Bonus – their office is only a few blocks from my house – I can walk or ride my bicycle to work.
To help orchestrate KFAI’s co-sponsorship of THROWATHON, a 48HR Pottery Spinning Charity for Empty Bowls Polka Dance Party at the PNA Hall with Kids’ Art DJs spinnin live broadcast Sugar Shop Learning for Leadership kids deejaying then Jazzed Up & Bonkers Polish kielbasa Harriet Brewing Beer for sale but there’s free snowcones and popcorn on Saturday all as a part of ART-A-WHIRL WEEKEND which happens annually here in Minneapolis and is a true harbinger of spring although it is still in the 50s and windy and feels more like March but that’s how we whirl here in Minnesota.
Can’t wait until this is released here in Mpls, where it all happened! And I’m so glad it all happened.
It looked like a City of Loonies today – I saw several dudes walking around in shorts (well, shorts and Sorel boots – it’s a thing) and puddles in the street. And it didn’t get over 23-degrees Farenheit.
I think the deep freeze is done. Oh man, it’ll be 32 tomorrow. Can we handle the insanity?
Alright, 32 or not, I am still brain-dead from winter and could use a shot of warmth and color for the eyes. I plan on a visit to St. Paul’s Como Park Conservatory very soon. I am told by a Como Zoo specialist that I need to get over there before the stroller brigade gets there – around the noon hour, apparently. What I do know is that I don’t want to go over there when the senior party bus gets there. Geez, I feel bad saying that, and I AM PRETTY OLD and all; it’s not the tortoise slowness with which they walk or the way they gang up and block the path when you’re trying to just get through to see the tulips. It’s the perfume/cologne factor. It’s like they’ve got Dementia of the Olfactory Nerve System or something. I hope I never get this terrible affliction. It’s the ladies, usually, who drown themselves in Chanel No. 5 or Shalimar – I’m just taking a stab here at the brands – but they’ve lost all sense of the golden rule of just a tiny drop on your wrists. But when I’m in a heated greenhouse with them, it’s very intense and I need to GET OUT IMMEDIATELY, lest I suffer closed throat and shut up watery eyeballs.
THE COMO CONSERVATORY, ST. PAUL, MN
I know, I am being insensitively sensitive.
This just seemed to suit the mood today. Don’t give me guff about ravens v. crows. They both kill bunnies.