For a quick recap: the theme that pops out of the plethora of research is that we should be consuming a “whole foods, plant-based diet”.

- There is a large geographical correlation between “western diseases”.  While people in industrialised, first world nations tend to die from one class of diseases in general (aka Diseases of Affluence), people in developing nations die from a completely different class of diseases (aka Diseases of Poverty).  This effect is well documented and has been known for a long time.

- These diseases tend to cluster in the same people – i.e. if you have one of them you will likely contract another

- Diseases of affluence include CHD (coronary heart disease), cancers (breast, colon, prostate, lung, throat, et al), diabetes, obesity, Alzheimer’s and autoimmune diseases.

- People that migrate to different geographic regions assume the risk profile of the new geographic region that they are in.  This implicates environmental factors like diet.

- Animal studies have demonstrated that increased milk protein ingestion (casein) dramatically increases cancer risk in multiple different species, with multiple different cancers.  Wheat gluten (wheat protein) and soy protein did not have this effect.

- Animal studies showed that you can turn cancer “on” and “off” simply by adjusting the level of protein intake.  Carcinogens sped up death in the high risk group, but did not cause the low risk group to contract cancer. (i.e. carcinogens do nothing unless activated by, in this case, milk protein).  This means you can (maybe) arrest and reverse some types of cancer by changing your diet to a whole foods, plant-based diet.

- Low animal protein diet animals were healthier in general and voluntarily exercised more frequently.

- In the 1970s, the Chinese premier was dying from cancer and surveyed 96% of the country’s population to get risk factors for a host of diseases (The Cancer Atlas).  The results show geographic clustering, and high cancer risk (among others) was associated with high animal fat/protein intake regions (i.e. affluent regions)

- Genes (predisposition) and environmental factors (i.e. carcinogens) lay dormant, and expression is activated by animal protein intake.  While you never want to overexpose, a whole foods plant-based diet provides a huge buffer against this.

- The Nurse’s Study  (the major study at Harvard in the US) demonstrated no effect of animal fat intake on breast cancer rates – they had the same risk profile as other high animal protein diets even when they tinkered with their fat intake…

Increased animal protein intake is associated with:

- higher blood cholesterol levels and increased plaque in the arteries (CHD)

- surpressed activated vitamin D levels (cancers of various sorts)

- increased antibody levels – of the host protein-destroying variety (auto-immune diseases, including Type I diabetes)

- decreased calcium uptake and increased calcium excretion in the urine (osteoporosis and kidney stones)

- a decrease in the age of menarche (first menstruation) from 17 to 11 years old (rural 70s China vs. modern US).  An increase in the age of menopause by ~4 years.  100% elevation in estrogen levels during lifetime.  (Breast Cancer, teenage pregnancy, harsher menopause from more drastic estrogen level changes)

- lower basal metabolic rate and thermalgenesis (obesity)

- Increased IGF-1 levels (4-10X increase in prostate cancer risk)

- Type I diabetes (juvenile onset). (related to increased cow’s milk intake and autoimmune antibody production)

- Type II diabetes

- decreased antioxidant and carotenoid levels (macular degeneration, cancer, etc. , etc.)

- Alzheimer’s and cognitive impairement

Diet Interventions with a “Whole-foods, plant-based diet” – successful interventions include: (that I can remember or find, and all were done by independent groups at various times in the last 50 years)

- (CHD) group of 18 patients with 49 CHD events between them were fed a whole foods, plant-based diet.  They had only 1 event between them in the next 17 years, and that was from the guy that fell off the wagon.  As soon as he resumed the diet his angina stopped again.  The 5 people from the intial 23 person study that dropped out had 10 more events between them over the next 10 years.

- (CHD) 28 patients – 91% reduction in frequency of chest pain, up to 8% decrease in arterial blockages over the course of 1 year.  The closer they followed the diet, the better the results

- (Obesity) 2-3 lbs/week depending on initial weight and BMI, etc.  Obviously the worse off you are the more comes off.  Weight loss is sustainable if you keep the lifestyle change

- (Diabetes) Of 25 Type II diabetics, 24 were able to *discontinue* medication after 3 weeks.  For type I, they were able to lower insulin medication by 4o%

- (Blood cholesterol) Many studies show that in 2-3 weeks you can decrease blood cholesterol by >30%

- (MS – Multiple Sclerosis) Significant reduction in the rate of disease progression (20% death rate over 34 years, vs. >60% for control group)

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This is only a sampling of the evidence provided in the book, and he provides references for all these claims.  I will have to follow up on some of them, but once again, the breadth of correlation is a little overwhelming.

We’ve thrown out the milk, ice cream and yogurt.  Next is the pesto and other cheeses (we haven’t used them since starting to read this book, but it’s a psychological journey).

Our lives have taken a little turn lately as we have become embroiled in reading, analysing, talking about and thinking about this book.

As a rule, I hate diet books.  Diet, in my mind, is a noun, and not a verb.  It is the net sum of what you eat, not some clique-y or fad thing that you *do*.

As a scientist, I despise anything that cites a single source, a single paper, or a single study for the basis of their thoughts, and I really despise things that mask themselves as having a basis in science when they really do not.  Unfortunately most lay people don’t know enough to know the difference.

The China Study, however, is in a different class.  It is a nutrition/life diet (noun) book that cites hundreds of papers, review articles, summary articles, studies, and does so over a period of decades.  The author is a scientist, and doesn’t include recipes – he includes facts.  It is filled with charts, diagrams and graphs.  Some of them are a little simplistic, but with epidimeology you take what you can get sometimes.  It is also filled with the big names of health research (both health centres and people).

As a scientist with a heavy penchant for critical analysis, however, I appreciate his wide-ranging citations and coverage of “Western” diseases in a critically thought out and scientific manner.  It is definitely food for thought despite the occasional leaps of logic he makes where there is a research gap.

Melanie and I have taken to reading it together as the implications are so wide-ranging to our lifestyles that it is best discussed, parsed, dissected and analysed together.  And while we haven’t finished reading it yet, the sheer weight of evidence that “Western” diseases like Coronary Heart Disease, Cancers (of various sorts), Diabetes, Obesity, Osteoporosis and a host of others are related to animal protein consumption is rather staggering.  And for the children it is just as, if not more, important.

I started off poo-pooing the book, as everyone knows that milk builds healthy bones and meat helps you grow up big and strong.  And if it was just one study, I would toss the book like I have every other fad diet book that seems to pass through our house.

But the evidence that we should be removing animal protein from our diets has been heaped on top of evidence has been heaped upon evidence.  As a supposedly open-minded scientist I can’t help but consider the sheer weight of evidence that my family’s “history of heart disease” is not because of genetics, but rather because I come from farmer stock that ate milk, eggs & bacon as regular fare.

And if all I have to do is (mostly) remove animal protein from my diet to avoid angioplasty, stints, anginas and strokes – well, sign me up.  As the author says: a “Whole foods, plant-based diet.” (about once a page… lol)

So I will be posting more posts related to this topic (Melanie is run off her feet with Fionnuala), but this introductory post is to let everyone know where we are now.  While most people would call it “vegan”, we aren’t conscientious objectors.  If there is whey powder in margarine we will have to live with it due to costs and practicality issues.  Ditto with Worcestershire sauce and anchovy paste.  But we will eat brown rice instead of white, which isn’t standard “vegan” mentality, and tofu or beans instead of chicken or beef.

As a psychological eater I have turfed the burgers in the freezer because all I see is heart attack waiting to happen when I look at them.

I will post more on where we are, and where we’re going.  As well as some more thoughts on the book.  Feel free to comment below.

Bringing Home Baby (#2) is a series of guest posts focusing on life after baby #2 comes home. If you want to contribute please contact me – I’m finding the stories fascinating plus it gives me a break while we adjust to life with our own baby #2 born August 18th.

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Kelsey & Ryker

Our son Ryker was born December 29, 2008. Squeezed tightly in between the craziness of Christmas and New Years,a happy, exciting, and STRESSFUL time of year.

His arrival came with absolutely NO WARNING! There I was, putting away Christmas gifts while struggling with my braxton hicks contractions… Which apparently were a little less braxton hicks and a little more 9-centimetres-dilated-full-blown-labor. I probably would have noticed this with my first pregnancy, but when it’s your second, it’s no longer just about you anymore. I already had a child that required my undivided attention, so that back stabbing pain I was feeling in regular two minute intervals? That could wait.

Ryker arrived just thirty minutes after getting to the hospital. Two pushes, and out he came, fast and furious, pushing all of the doctor’s instruments to the floor and sending all of the nurses running in a panic. Introducing our little man, six weeks early and already the beginning of total chaos.

Nothing about Ryker’s arrival came as expected. To say that we were unprepared would be an incredible understatement. His nursery was still my office, we didn’t own one newborn diaper, I hadn’t washed any of his new little outfits, or the cover for his new bassinett- which wasn’t even put together. None of this mattered in the least though, because due to his undeveloped lungs, he wouldn’t be coming home.

Having Ryker in the hospital for the first three weeks of his life was heart breaking. If it had been under different circumstances, I would have packed my things and moved into the hospital with him. But, we have a daughter, Payton, and she needed us too. It didn’t matter where I was, I felt a huge weight of guilt pushing down on me. While at the hospital, I was abandoning our daughter, and while at home, I wasn’t there for our newborn son.

But the absolute worst guilt that I felt, was about how much I was struggling to bond with little Ry. I longed for the one on one time and connection I was able to share with my daughter when she first arrived. I felt so far away from him, and having the nurses, women I didn’t even know, caring for him was gut wrenching. It added an element of detachment, of not being needed. I hated having to ask permission to bath my baby, to feed my baby, and in the beginning, to hold my baby. It just wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It made me feel like less of a mother to him, like I was letting him down.

The struggle of emotions and inability to sleep was affecting my ability to think rationally, and I kept dreaming about sneaking Ryker under my coat and making a dash for the exit. Could you be charged for stealing your own baby? In the end, sanity prevailed, and Ryker stayed where he was, receiving the medical attention he needed to be a healthy, thriving, little guy.

And if this wasn’t enough, the stress and sleep deprivation was affecting more than my sleep, it completely slowed the production of my milk. Breastfeeding came so much easier with Payton, but then again, it was a lot more enjoyable to wake up in the night and cuddle a sweet, hungry baby, than it was to set an alarm and go downstairs by myself to pump for Ryker’s next bottle in the hospital. I learned that pumping milk for baby’s dinner, while spending time with my 14 month old daughter, was incredibly moronic. With Payton pressing buttons on the machine, and me being distracted by her, I didn’t even notice that the pumping had increased until it was too late. My boob? Bruised, almost black and drained dry. It hurt to even THINK about.

We took Ryker home when he was three weeks old, which is when I would like to say the insanity all began, but truthfully? I was too tired to remember. All of my memories from the first nine months are blurred with exhaustion. What I do remember clearly, was that even though I expected it to be the same experience as with our daughter all over again, it was entirely different in every way.

In the beginning, my heart broke a little bit for Ryker. To the outside world looking in, having your second isn’t nearly as big of a deal. We didn’t have close to the amount of people stopping over to see him, sending cards and gifts, calling to ask about him- even our dogs didn’t notice that he existed until he was two months old. They’re a little bit self involved though.

It made me sad, angry even. Did the world think that this child somehow wasn’t quite as special? Would he not be as loved? Did he not impact our lives just as much?

But then, THEN, as I patiently waited for it all to come together, I found a peace in witnessing a new love grow. Payton adored her little brother, and spent hours looking at him, loving him, and touching him, as if to see if he was real. Being only 14 months old when he was born, she doesn’t know a life without her younger bro. They’re a pair. A loving, adorable pair. She began to want to give him his bottle. To bath him. To care for him. And this? Hasn’t stopped even for a moment.

My husband was too distracted by his fantasies of teaching Ryker’s basketball team, showing him how to fix a car, and wrestling with him on the bed, to realize that HE IS STILL A BABY, and was trying to get him to hold himself up in the jolly jumper by one month old.

And the grandparents… They were THRILLED beyond belief to have a sweet, little grandson. My parents had only experienced daughters, my sister and I, and were so happy to find the endearing nature of a precious, little boy. And my step father, who had lost his son a few years earlier, struggled with the memory of his loss, but found the joy in the happy momens Ryker reminded him of.

My sister- she has an enthusiasm for our family unlike any other. ALWAYS here to help, despite her full timecareer as an elementary school teacher, getting her graduate degree in the evenings, and preparing to run a half marathon. She saw the amazingness of Ryker the second she held him, taking away any and all doubt I had that the world didn’t see him as being quite as special as Payton.

And the rest of our family? They were like Ryker’s personal fan club.

Most importantly, despite my fears and hesitations, I developed a bond with my son so unique and special to that of my daughter. I learned that their individual personalities and traits were so completely unique, that my relationship with them would be as well. Ryker became my snuggle bug, and has a sweetness about him that is impossible to miss. He has a laugh that came from deep inside his belly, and a smile that can melt your heart in a moment.

Now that he’s a year and a half, I think back to my pregnancy, and couldn’t imagine loving anyone as much as I loved my daughter. It couldn’t be possible. I had given it all to her, there was nothing left. Like my milk, I was drained dry. I was empty.

But with Ryker’s arrival, somehow my heart grew just big enough to hold even more love, a love that had been reserved just for him. I couldn’t imagine my life with another child, but now I can’t imagine my life without him.

I try and remember this during the moments where I have Payton practicing on the potty, and Ryker flushes my cell phone down the toilet, or simultaneously poop their pants, or when they’re in the backyard smashing each other with plastic golf clubs, or working as a team ripping out my annuals. The point is, they’re doing it as a team. And most of the time? They’re doing it with love.

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Kelsey Hansen is the mother of two insanely talented, intelligent- not to mention GORGEOUS children (who obviously take after her- can you tell I’m writing my own bio here?).  With her husband serving a tour of duty in Afghanistan, she’s attempting to stay sane by pouring her heart out into her blog Polished Portrayal.  It hasn’t got her past the craziness yet, but it’s definitely helped cope with the stress and drama of her new and overwhelming single parenting role.  And if blogging isn’t enough to get her through until her husbands return?  She’s thinking of trying out base jumping…

- Polka Dot Pajamas

- Dirt

Moira discovered that you can take the Polar Zookeeper Duplo animal slide apart and turn it into.. shoes!  Those jammies totally kill me too.

Yodeler’s daughter: Fionnuala looks like she should be wearing knickers and a cow bell.

Man, nap time is boring.

Nap time with Daddy.  Heartbeats + warmth = baby bliss.

I suspect that this one was meant to heat up (as it is up near the ceiling, not in arm’s reach), and the metal band would expand, then break, dropping its payload on the floor.

Anyways, it’s probably similar to this one From Wikipedia:

“Another type of carbon-tetrachloride extinguisher was the Fire grenade. This consisted of a glass sphere filled with CTC, that was intended to be hurled at the base of a fire (early ones used salt-water, but CTC was more effective). Carbon tetrachloride was suitable for liquid and electrical fires and the extinguisers were fitted to motor vehicles. Carbon-tetrachloride extinguishers were withdrawn in the 1950s because of the chemical’s toxicity–exposure to high concentrations damages the nervous system and internal organs. Additionally, when used on a fire, the heat can convert CTC to Phosgene gas ^[7], formerly used as a chemical weapon.”

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Alba and Desirée

After Desirée was born, I promised myself that I would never, ever do that again. Then my Neanderthal brain took over 2 and a bit years later and assured me that it would be okay if I did.*  Within 48 hours of this primitive reasoning,  baby number two was on its way.  I decided not to think about the actual giving birth part until it was inevitable, at which point I decided I really shouldn’t have done this again.  And, of course, there were points along the way where my doubts about a second little tyrant surfaced.  These points included (but weren’t limited to):

• When my partner went into hospital and was diagnosed as having acute kidney failure, requiring dialysis and a transplant.
• Pretty much the entire time the Sydney summer sweltered at 45 degrees.
• When one of my friends, upon hearing the news, wrote an email that consisted of two sentences – “Again?” and  “Sew it up!”
• While thinking of how many friends and family members we have for support in Sydney.  Oh wait, make that not thinking of any friends or family members in Sydney.  There aren’t any.
• The time Desirée pitched a fit in the supermarket and lay full length on the floor, screaming.
• During the endless, repetitive, tiring discussions about names for the kid.  In the end, there weren’t any chosen when the baby was born and she remained nameless for a few days.
• Every time I thought about how much work it was going to be to take care of an infant while weaning Desirée off the non-stop attention.

*I’d like to take just a second here to tell that part of my brain to butt the hell out next time there is any big decision-making to be done.

Fast-forward to March 2010 and we meet Alba Valentine.  Here is a photo of me a half an hour after she was born looking pretty happy with myself.

While most people would attribute the cause of this to the sweet little bundle I am holding, it will be our little secret that I am really overjoyed because I am never giving birth to anyone ever again (hear that, imbecilic reptile brain?)  I was home within 24 hours of the birth and determined to take everything in stride. I didn’t forget about the fact hat there is no stride anymore.  When you come home with baby, it is more like a slide into some strange, sleep-disturbed paranoia where you worry about things like how to take a shower and where did I put my keys this time and oh my god, is the baby breathing?  With number two you get to add things to your internal muttering like, “where is Desirée? Why is breastfeeding so painful again?! What happened to Desirée?  Please don’t wake the baby up, Desirée!  Who are you, again?  Oh right, second baby!  Alba! Right! Not Desirée.” And so on.

Imagine my surprise when I realized that, with baby number two, I was mistaken in my assumptions that everything would go to hell.  There was a stride!  Yes, I was tired.  Yes, I was a bit muddled up in the key-remembering department.  But I knew how to do this.  Twenty-five hours after giving birth to her, I had Alba in the sling and was picking Desirée up from daycare.  Twenty-five hours after giving birth to Desirée I was in a stupor in a blood-stained nightgown, wondering if that tiny thing making noises and warming my chest was really mine?  I underestimated the vast difference knowing would have on bringing home baby number two.  Baby number two is a relative breeze.  Because you already know.  You know you won’t get any sleep.  You know breastfeeding isn’t fun until your baby’s mouth grows a bit bigger.  You know your world isn’t all yours anymore, because it hasn’t been since your first baby.  You’re used to coming second and it’s easy to come third.

Taking care of two is trying, definitely, but they sort of balance each other out.  One talks nonstop and the other doesn’t talk.  One can’t sit still and the other one doesn’t even know how to roll over.  One wants everything RIGHT NOW and the other wants everything RIGHT NOW, too, only you can reason a bit with her.  They both want to be held all the time and have all of your attention, (the best trick in Desirée’s book being the all-consuming need to pooh as soon as I’m nursing Alba), and amazingly, you love them both, even though you were worried about sharing.  Bringing home baby number two made me dream more often of the day when both babies have flown the coop (when I’ve had 20 minutes in which to dream at all), but it has also made me savour the differences between big and little.  Or, (really), little and littler.  And appreciate them.  And if I need to lift someone onto the toilet to pooh while nursing someone else and live to blog about it – well, I can do that, too.

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Bess Grant is the author of the blog Crash Into My Arms. She moved to Sydney, Australia from Vancouver, B.C. for her work with Lush Cosmetics. Her first daughter was born in Vancouver, her second was born in Sydney.  She says that if she could do anything and didn’t have to worry about bringing home the proverbial bacon, she would act again – and someday she will! If you want to read her fascinating – and funny – story about picking a name for Alba click here. (And I know you all love baby name stories because you always comment on them!)

Name: Fionnuala Irene (pronounced Fin-oo-la)

Birth Weight: 7 lbs 1 oz (exactly the same as mom and older sister)

Born on: 8-something am on the 18th of August (18/8/10 – a date I can remember! 18-8=10).  Water broke Monday evening, attempted induced labour for 18+ hours, then off to an emergency c-section after everyone threw the towel in.  All in all, a looooooooong haul.  But it is over and Fionnuala/Mommy are healthy.

Breastfeeding: going like a trucker.  Gained 92 grams yesterday after hitting rock bottom weight of just over 10% loss (so the nurses got to freak out for a bit… lol… nurses…)

Things that make me happy:

Bonding

Happy mommy + baby

You must keep a sense of humour when someone is chomping on your body.

The girls getting aquainted.

The Gremlin ready to come home from the hospital.

Things that make me mad:

Complete with tons of sugar-like crap and food colouring.

Sugar, Corn Syrup Solids, Modified Milk Ingredients, Orange Flavour (including FD&C yellow #6)

Apparently this constitutes a “vegetable” serving at the hospital.

Beef, beef, beef, instant crap, frozen crap, food colouring.

I guess that they don’t want the mothers to recover or have nutrients to create breast milk with.  I saw plently of husbands lugging cafeteria food up (they had salads, wraps, sushi, sandwiches, etc.) so if you had someone there to support you and you had money, you could get something better.

I feel especially sorry for the low income or single mothers.  Or institutionalised hospital patients that get that crap every meal, every day.

The Nurses nurtrition/diet study shows that nurses are notoriously bad eaters and have worse dietary intakes than the average person, so I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that they don’t fight to get their patients better food…  or that they don’t understand the importance of healthy diet to recovery?  WTF?

While it is obviously not all the nurses’ fault, the apple doesn’t land far from the tree.

They also expected me to keep a lady who was in labour for 34 hours off of all food except… ice chips.

lol.

They would have a dessicated corpse on their hands if I actually did that.  I jammed food into her maw all evening whenever a nurse left the room.  Everything from sausage to salad – how else was she supposed to survive the ordeal?

Bath belly at 35 weeks.

My Mum is here right now – she decided to come early too – and that has been an amazing help. I feel so huge I can barely move and I have constant braxton hicks contractions. I’ve been wanting to write a post about Moira for the last week – and about her last moments as an only child – but I just haven’t had the energy.

Here is a bath belly shot from the last pregnancy for comparison. My bathroom is much nicer (and mold free) this time around.

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Edited to add: My water broke while writing this post. No wonder I’m feeling rough today. Perhaps I will see you on the other side?

I’m looking for women to share their stories of bringing home the second baby. The interloper. The one who made you realize that the baby you gave 100% of yourself to is now no longer the baby. I want to hear about how #1 reacted to #2. I also want the good, the bad and the honest. I like honest. Having that first baby is such a mind-blowing, all-consuming experience for so many women that it is hard to imagine what having two children is going to be like.

This is what I am looking for:

• A post about your life adjusting to two children (as long or short as you want)
• A photo to go with the post if you feel comfortable with that (either of your family or just the kids – whatever you want really).
• A breif bio of yourself with a link to your blog.

I want to start collecting these stories now so I can have them ready to post in late August some time.

So if you are interested, or have friends who might be interested send an e-mail to meli.mello AT gmail DOT com. I know I have a number of readers who are in the thick of baby #1 right now but are thinking of having baby #2.

One of the few memories I have of my elementary school library was coming across history books written for kids. For some reason I can still recall reading – and re-reading – about George Washington Carver. Carver, in case you didn’t know, invented peanut butter (among the many uses he came up with for peanuts after encouraging poor farmers to diversify from cotton crops and then needing to find a use for all the peanut crops that were being grown). While he has nothing to do with June Callwood he has everything to do with my love for history books for kids (easy reading and rather to the point – although I suspect if you are looking for gossip and scandal you aren’t going to find it).

While this book is geared for ages 9-13 I think it was really good for me to read right now – especially as a writer, some-time journalist, and mother about to have #2 while trying to figure out how to juggle it all. Callwood came from humble beginnings, had a fantastic journalism career and four children. She was smart, resourceful and a dedicated mom.

She often brought one or two children with her when she had to go to the office to write or revise an article. She worked on her story while a baby sat on her lap or a toddler played in a corner nearby.

She used one day a week -  Thursdays -  for interviewing people and hired a babysitter to look after the children. Of course, it also said she was highly organized – something I used to be but haven’t been in a number of years. The only real problem I had with this book is that it made me feel like I am doing very little with my life right now – except having babies – but that is my issue. It is easy to feel that way when you are reading about someone’s entire life condensed into a few short chapters. Since this book is geared towards young girls (although I believe boys would get a lot out of it too) I view it as inspiring – it would show them that those from the most ordinary backgrounds can become extraordinary people in ordinary ways. (Extraordinary, well-adjusted, happily married people which I don’t think we get to see in the media much anymore as normality isn’t glamorous and doesn’t sell.)

I also really liked her view on feminism:

June didn’t become a feminist until the early 1970s, when something “clicked.” Feminism gradually “sneaked up” on her, she says, as she wrote about issues like abortion, day-care centers, and the scarcity of women in politics. She came to the conclusion that women and men sometimes perceive things differently; that both their views are valuable and need to be considered. “Women have different ears. Maybe not better, but they hear different things.” But she also believes that feminism is about getting equality not only for women but for men, too. She points out that “there’s no improvement in the human condition in replacing discrimination against women with discrimination against men.”

All in all, a great little history book for kids and an inspiring book for me – making me interested in checking out the many books Callwood has written. You can check out this short interview with her here by clicking on Choosing Truth over False Eyelashes) from the CBC Digital Archives.