Now an Astral Nomad

You can now follow the Astral Nomads journey. Just click on the link... I'll be there as part of our team.

Freewheeling!

Well, we finally made a leap of faith and bought our new home. It will take about 90 days to get this Eurovan up to perfect specs and then it will be shipped to us cross country. By that time we will have sold our old house and will be prepared for our journey around the country. Our "yard" will be found at all the great National Parks and Me, Gerry, and Otis will be free wheeling gypsies! The beauty of the plan is the freedom from jobs and house responsibilities and we will be living simply... exploring Nature and our inner selves, writing, journaling, photographing and doing what we love. We will be connected to family via phone and webcam so "seeing" everyone of our loved ones should not be a problem. (Baby girl and I have been practicing talking to the webcam). It reminds me of the song from South Pacific that my mom used to sing to me when I was just a baby, "Happy Talk"... "you gotta have a dream, if you don't have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true!" I can't teach my grand-daughter to follow her dreams if I don't practice what I preach.

Playtime With Annabel

What a difference a week makes in the life of a baby. Here's baby girl sitting up against the old chair that really belongs to Otis bunny rabbit. (He gave me special permission to allow her to sit there). She has been practicing her sitting skills and on Monday she was able to sit up for more than a few minutes by herself and play (movie below). It is amazing how she is able to pick things up and shake them, put them in her mouth for a little bite (she is teething), and maintain her balance. Her little milestones come so fast as she grows and learns about her world and I don't want to miss a thing! Even Otis who can be very cantankerous at times is gentle, albeit a little cautious around his cousin. I am so very thankful that I have the time to play and record the events of my dear little grand-daughter.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIs5g8BEB9M

For the Love of Cats

Mimma

Milo

I love cats and so I can't help but brag about my grankitties. Mimi, or "Mimma" as we call her, is a sweet sultry beauty who only allows public displays of affection on her terms (when you least expect it). Mostly she enjoys sunning herself in the window and avoiding the slobber of Lily the bulldog (she is most tolerant of Lily, even though she considers herself to be far superior to such a simpleton as a dog). She will appear missing for hours after I arrive to watch my grandaughter, and just when I begin to think she doesn't care that I am there, she will gingerly walk over to me as I sit on the couch, jump into my lap and allow me to pet her. No grabbing or loud noise please, she likes the sound of her own purr and likes to be gently stroked and admired... in small doses.
Now Milo is quite another story. He is very good-natured and outgoing, albeit a bit of a nosy bird. Upon my arrival, he will jump on the kitchen table (where he knows he doesn't belong) and stare at his food dish on the windowsill where I put his and Mimma's kitty treats. He is not beneath begging, and as I approach the table to pet his head he will stretch up to my shoulders, stare into my face with that pleading look that demands those fishy little treats, and poke his nose into mine. He is really pretty gentle as he does this maneuver, considering he still has all of his claws and yet he has never once scratched me doing this. Milo needs lots of attention and gets quite annoyed if I dare to read while he is present. As soon as the book is opened he will jump into my lap and worm his way into the book so it would be impossible to read. He has also been known to muscle in when I try to feed baby girl her bottle. He doesn't even mind it when she grabs a bit of his fur, as long as he is able to join in the feeding ritual.
Both Mimma and Milo love when Granny Wen visits, not just because I give them treats and spoil them, but because they are smart enough to know a true "cat person" when they see one.

Going Back in Time

One of the best things about living in the same town that you grew up in, is the ability to back to your neighborhood stomping ground and relive those memories of childhood wonderment. We lived up the street from a woods with a stream running through it and many an afternoon was spent traipsing around looking for old artifacts, crayfish, and signs of wild life. The top photo is of "First Brook" which is a little stream that wasn't so little when you were in single digit age and had to jump over it to get into the woods that lead to the more impressive "Second Brook." Mostly we had to take our shoes and socks off and either jump from side to side if it was dry, or wade across if it was full and deep. There was always the danger of getting a soaker (wet feet with shoes and socks on) that would enrage your mother... so one had to be very careful playing here. The younger kids were content to play all afternoon at First Brook, but at about ten years of age there was a rite of passage in our neighborhood that meant you needed to master the wade or the jump over first brook and bravely walk through the woods until you came to the wide expanse of Second Brook ( as seen in the second photo). Here the water ran quickly over the smooth mud and there were patches of pebbles that would stick up and out of the water where you could literally hang out in the middle of the stream. It was a very cool thing to do on a hot day and for the most part everyone got along pretty well... with the older kids looking out for the younger ones. It was a different time back then... there was no parental supervision ( I don't think they really knew where we were) but there was never any question of safety and certainly no fear of strangers. I still love to visit First Brook and Second Brook when I take my daily bike ride... it is still so beautiful there and the memories are priceless.

Singing Like a Birdie

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OH7OjvniWbs

My baby grand-daughter is just learning how to express her joy and it brings a smile to my face to watch her sing. You can see how she experiments with the sounds she makes as she gaily expresses herself. We sing whenever we are together and of course I think she is a prodigy. Hope her audition will put a smile on your face.

An Hour in Daytona

I probably wasn't being fair to poor Daytona. I did get some interesting photos.


http://picasaweb.google.com/wendilea/Daytona#

Mini Beach Vacation

Just returned from a mini beach vacation to New Smyrna Beach and had a great time of it. You could probably tell that my husband and I were from New Jersey, as the water temp was 70 degrees, which is too cold for most Floridians but warm enough for us as we ventured out into the foamy, choppy sea and paddled ourselves silly in the crashing waves. The first day featured gale force winds and an angry sea so we opted for a nice long walk instead of water-play. The second day was calmer and warmer... the perfect beach day by NJ standards and we wore ourselves out by the end of the day. We managed a short trip to Daytona, but there was really nothing to see there, as the pier was closed for renovations... unless you're into biker bars and big hotels. I did get lots of photos and was thrilled to see a new species of "thing" namely the Portuguese man-o-war which is that blue jellyfish nestled up to the crab in the picture above. They were scattered all over the beach, like inflated balloons with withered legs, and I'm glad I was ignorant to the fact that they sting on contact, or I wouldn't have enjoyed myself so much in the surf!

Heaven is a Dance Party

My favorite activity (at least the one I can talk about) is dancing, and this weekend I got the invitation of a lifetime. A friend of Gerry's from college who was refound on Facebook, invited us to a five hour dance party on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. I was besides myself in anticipation because except for the occasional wedding there doesn't ever seem to be any clubs around for the 50 and over crowd. Although I don't mind some rap or hip hop, what excites me most is the dance music from my past... punk, disco, new wave, alternative, R&B... I'm not that fussy, as long as it's danceable. Well, we took the train in on Saturday for the party that lasted from 12-5 and I met the most terrific new friends and I got to dance for five hours to the best music from "our era." The music was so good in fact that there was no way that I couldn't dance for the full five hours. The best part was that I actually won the prize of a five hour CD set of the music that was recorded by our host (who is a terrific dancer and also danced almost every song as well)! I think Gerry captured me best in these shots which seem to suggest... get ready, get set, now dance like a maniac... and believe me I did! It was heavenly!

Ringing Rocks

Betty and Otis

Poor Otis , my bunny rabbit has been put out of his usual routine this week and is a bit out of sorts. Betty, his slobbery bull dog cousin has been here for a visit while her parents traveled to California on vacation. She is a sweetheart and follows me around wherever I go. For the most part she tries to ignore Otis, as she has learned from the first ninja kick to her head that he doesn't like her much. She is a slow learner though, and either keeps trying to make friends with him, or just wants to get in his face to cause him the utmost in vexation. Usually Otis sits and meditates under the dining room table, but while Betty is around he feels safer lording over her at the top of the stairs. She, however, has been caught more than once sneaking up to Otis's carrot bowl and slobbering over his meal. Perhaps it is spitefulness for the kick received, but Otis was not amused and refused to eat the drooled upon carrots. Otis will try to sneak up behind Betty in a moment of daring, but as soon as she turns her big mug to look at him, he hops away in fright or disgust (it's hard to tell). As long as I am around they mange to stay out of each other's way, occasionally though there is a quick skuffle as Betty lumbers a little too close to Otis and he jumps at her with both paws ready to strike. She in turn barks at him and then there is an uneasy truce as I yell at both of them to behave. I need to give Betty plenty of attention because I can tell from her big sad eyes that she is a bit homesick... she is not eating with the usual bull dog gusto. But at night Gerry and I have to make sure Otis gets his proper attention too, so his jealously doesn't getting taken to extremes (he has already chewed many a moulding, which he only seems to do when he is upset.). As you can see, although he tries to act big and bad, Otis is really a momma's boy... just don't let Betty know.

The Spell is Broken

Well, I have finally received the sign that I have been waiting for. The gazing ball in our front yard mysteriously shattered this weekend. That is the daffy duck in a turban image you see above. And to seal the deal, one of the back porch lights mysteriously shattered last night (though the light did not go out... good thing). You see, we have been patiently waiting to sell our house, buy a Eurovan and take off to see the country for a few years. It has been the worst market to sell a house... even a terrific house like the one we have lived in for the past 13 years. It has given us a lot of joy, but now that the kids are grown and gone, it is just too big and unnecessary. The other day I got really frustrated thinking about our plans that are on hold and I got mad and shouted at the top of my lungs, "I can't stand this house anymore... I just want to go!" Maybe it was the house fairies who finally got the message, or the piskies that live out in the back yard, but somebody heard my yell and I get the feeling that they are taking me seriously now. I'm thankful for all the good times here, but there is another family out there who needs all these rooms and this big old yard. We are putting the house back on the market on Thursday and whoever looks at it will see all the wonderful repairs we did for the next owners (new windows, sealed basement, painting). I think the time has come for us to get those buyers so we can pursue our dream... I will not be replacing the gazing ball... the next owners can do that if they so choose.

A Good Day Planned

All is quiet within our house, except for the chewing that Otis my bunny is doing to the old Oxford dictionary in the bookcase. Outside the birds are chirping loudly, the bluejays are actually screaming at the rising sun that is peering in my eastern window. Baby girl is still in her car seat fast asleep, and occasionally I hear I soft little stir from her and although I can't wait for her to wake up so I can kiss her sleepy morning face, I also feel like shhushing the bluejays so the pretty song of the chickadee can be heard. It is going to be a lovely Spring day here and I have the pram (aka carriage) ready for my little grand-daughter. Once the temperature rises a bit, we will go for a long spin around the block in search of signs of spring. Although the pram is old (probably 50+ years old) and a bit scary looking, I line it with clean sheets and I must say it rides smoothly over the sidewalks and cracked pavement. We'll stroll around the neighborhood and I'll point out all the budding trees of interest, the Spring flowers, and the various sounds of the birds. I'm also teaching Annabel sign language as I read that this exercise will help her with vocabulary development. Of course, we will listen to music... opera is on the playlist for today, especially Queen of the Night aria from Mozart's The Magic Flute as baby girl loves to exercise her vocal chords with a high pitched soprano squeal of delight now and again. Oh, guess who just woke up with a big sleepy smile? Gotta go... we have a busy day planned!

Gratefulness: Filling in the Blanks

I have a beautiful book that I use to remind me of all the things that I'm grateful for. It's a part of my morning ritual where I choose the first four things that come to mind for that particular day that gives me reason to smile, to be happy, or to feel thankful for. It comes in very handy on those days when I feel lonely, or out of sorts, or just plain blue. I look back at all the entries that have been recorded and like magick, suddenly I don't feel so bad. Some entries are highly personal and directed at specific things or people in my life and some are very general and are probably things other people would share in being grateful for as well. For instance:

• courage in the face of fear
• the timely greeting of a budding tree
• living abundantly in abundance
• new friends and old alike
• the gift of imagination
• sharing laughter
• the grace of the full moon
• walking in wonder
• team spirit
• the quietness of falling snow
• a clean bill of health
• the love of a pet

You can see how I've managed to complete half of book... when I'm feeling up to it. And when I'm not, I need only to read what was once written and realize that although everything changes, there is always something new and exciting to experience or be grateful for. Sometimes the best way to remember these things is to write them down, lest we forget.

The beautiful picture here is called Moon Maiden by Jean and Ron Henry. and on the back of my book is an extract from Tis moonlight, summer moonlight by Emily Bronte:

'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight

All soft and still and fair;

The solemn hour of midnight

Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere...

A Flood of Memories

After a weekend of rain and some of the worst flooding my town has seen in years, I rode my bike past Mountainview Park... the site of some good old fashioned memories of my childhood. The park playground has since been made safer for children with plastic amusements taking the place of the old metal fort with the pirate chains that I used to climb. There were pitched fingers and scrapes and bruises that were just part of the rough and tumble play ground experience back then. At 10 years old you no longer required the accompaniment of your parents... in fact that was considered uncool to have them hanging around. We were brave little daredevils who would play for hours using only our imaginations and lots of energy. There were territorial battles amongst kids from different neighborhoods... nothing serious, as we all knew who the serial bullies were and our intuition guided us from receiving any unnecessary harm from them. I looked at the current fort with the caution tape around it and wondered who would have waded into the flood waters to put it in place... I mean the only people who would not realize the danger in playing there now would probably not be able to read or understand the word, and a parent would have to be present as kids don't go anywhere without their parents in tow now.
Yes, the world is changing... freedom and a sense of adventure are slowing being replaced by neuroticism and fear... and Nature it seems is just playing along.

Signs of Spring

It's rainy and cold and although there is no use complaining about the weather, I'm really looking forward to Spring's official arrival. Yesterday I heard the sweet trill of the Eastern Meadowlark, which made me stop my bike ride and search in the trees for the the gray and yellow bird. I only saw the blended colors of yellow and gray as the bird flew away... but it made me smile. I've seen numerous robins that travel in packs over the winter, but it's when they pick their nesting territory that they become more solitary and sing as they prepare their nests for those beautiful blue eggs. As for the sparrows, they have been very frisky in the quiet recesses of my front juniper bushes... they will be nesting soon I'm sure of it!

I have also been watching the tips of the daffodils creep up and out of the earth since February and only fretted a little when the last giant snowstorm buried them... they are hardy and will bloom as expected... I have seen it before. I have also monitored the bursting bloom of the little snowdrop flowers that appear even if there is still snow on the ground. They look so fragile but they can withstand the tricky fluctuations of March temperatures. And then there is my one lone crocus that has just bloomed two days ago. I remember planting about 50-60 bulbs several years ago, however the squirrels just love them and they have no remorse as they dig them up and eat them right in front of me. I just know that next year there will be none left (hopefully our house will be sold so I won't miss them).

The surest sign of Spring for me is this almost undefinable sense of excitement as I begin to envision all those comforting images of buzzing bees on flowers, young green buds sprouting from tree branches, fluffy white clouds wafting over clear blue skies that come after the rains... and that first warm day when outerwear becomes obsolete!

Playtime!

Mondays are eagerly anticipated as I prepare for my visit to babysit Annabel, my "baby girl." At three months old she is such a delight and our day together goes by very quickly. When I show up she has been fed and is usually content to play for a brief spell. We go to her crib where she loves watching her musical mobile go round and round and especially delights when I play her musical puppy at the same time. Then I bring all the crib animals to life to talk and dance for her as she wiggles and coos. Her favorite thing to watch, however, is the paddle fan in the living room. I manually spin it as I hold her and I marvel at how her eyes widen and become fixated on the whirling blades. Then is a sense of wonder in her bright little eyes and she smiles transfixed on the spectacle. Perhaps she has a future in windmill technology... she IS a genius you know! After a nice nap that allows me some reading time and light housekeeping for my own daughter "Beauty" we quickly warm a baa baa, as she wakes with a ferocious appetite. She is cuddled and kissed as she sucks down her formula... to my gentle reminders of "slow down... take human gulps baby girl!" Then like a little rag doll, she drapes over my shoulder and expels the inevitable milk belch. Once fed and after a quick cat nap, we go to the changing table where she wakes up and delights in grabbing her toes as I skillfully change her diaper. Big smiles and coos accompany this ritual, and then she is ready to play. We usually have a lesson in classical music... currently we are listening to Bach harpsichord concertos as we minuet together across her bedroom floor. Then we go downstairs to her elaborate baby play station where she will grab at the suspended rattles and pulls them towards her mouth... hoping for a little taste. Lately she is into Nick... the children's channel where we might catch an episode of Max and Ruby or Dance Beat... but not too much TV, I don't want her to become a couch potato!

Yesterday the weather was a balmy 56 degrees so I assembled the high tech stroller and we went out for a walk in the March winds and listened to all the sounds of Nature waking up from the end of the cold Winter. As we sat on the back deck in the warmth of the sunshine, two hawks swooped down in screeching play and we watched them dive-bomb each other for quite some time. We were also visited by a low flying Turkey Buzzard who swooped down and tipped his wings with a big hello! The fresh air made baby girl sleepy and after another bottle of milk, she enjoyed another big nap as Lilydog, and Milo and Mimi (the cats) crept quietly around her to grace my lap for their share of Granny Wen attention. What a great day... time does fly when you're having fun!

All in a Day's Work

I started my new job this week... one that I know will turn into a rewarding career. I am babysitting my grand daughter Annabel and boy the time flys when we are together. She arrives sleeping in her car seat as the lull of the travel puts her to sleep. It is all I can do to keep from snatching her up to greet her with hugs and kisses. I respectfully wait until she slowly wakes in the heat of my home and stretches and yawns as those big blue eyes still watery from sleep open and take in the unfamiliar surroundings. There is a brief grimace of worry which I refer to as the boo boo face and at that point I can't resist gently lifting her out of her darkened confinement and into my arms for warm kisses on that perfect peach of a sweet smelling baby head. Her little wobbly head surveys the surroundings and then she looks right into my eyes and a big drooly smile lights up my world! After weeks of practice at her own home, I know her routine and I heat a bottle for her to ward off the inevitable tantrum that will occur if I am late for her breakfast. Hungrily she sucks down the formula, all the while cooing and gulping... I don't dare pull that nipple out until the bottle is empty or I know she will punish me with a frustrated whimper. Once fed she will dangle over my shoulder as I pat her for a belch or two, as she naps a bit with the half closed eyes of the "milk drunk." I gently dap her chin with her bib and place her in the Boppy pillow for a little nap. Soon she awakens and is bright eyed and ready for some fun. On goes the music and we dance and whirl around my empty living room for several songs. When my back signals that I have met my limit, she goes in her swing and she watches me sing and dance for her while she gnaws on the many rattle toys offered to her. All her senses are on high alert as she learns about her place in the world with her long delicate fingers and the sensations tasted by her exploring mouth. I laugh as she lets out her little screams of delight... she has a lot to say and a big bright voice to say it with. I understand her contentment!

I show her all my latest nature photos in a slide show and she ooohs and ahhs in cooing fashion. Then we might play a computer game of Luxor Ma Jong, which is colorful and stimulating for her as my mouse clicks the matches and I call out the numbers and symbols. She gets very excited as the background music of the game works into a quiet frenzy as the coupled tiles disappear. Before long it is changing time, feeding time, nap time... and then more learning games and lots of hugs and kisses. My daughter arrives as we are singing along with Madonna... "Cherish, is word I use to remind me of... your looovvvee!" Belee and I are like peas and carrots and I'm getting her used to the video cam so when Gerry and I hit the road in our Eurovan this year, she and I can still communicate.

Two of my favorite things... biking and baking.

It took me a long time to learn how to ride a bike... almost three years as a matter of fact. My early frustration and determination paid off in the long run, as biking has been and is still one of my great joys. I just got my new Trek, a lightweight frame with juicy, hydraulic, disc brakes and front shocks with a lock out feature and it sure is sweet. It was ordered last week and came in on the day of a major snowstorm. My husband knew how excited I was to get it and so we ventured out to the cycle shop to pick it up even though they were closing early. A little snow and ice did not deter me from the best ride of my life... like a kid at Christmas I just had to try out my new toy! The hum of the wheels on the wet pavement as the wind kisses my cheeks keeps a perpetual smile on my face as I ride to the tune of my own private thoughts... they are happy thoughts indeed! How do I thank my husband for such a sweet gift? There are many ways to show my appreciation, but when I am happy and thankful I put that joy and love into baking. This weekend I made a plate of almond crescents and an apple pie. I love the feel of dough being manipulated by my hands and I pride myself on being able to peel an apple with the skin in one spiraled helix. The aroma of the crushed Marcona almonds baking rival those of the spicy sizzle of the apple pie... it's a good thing we both ride as we do. The best part of baking is the tasting, and when you ride in the wind pushing the limits of endurance, the reward of a home cooked dessert is especially sweet!

Rethinking Animal Entertainment

I remember going to Florida with my two children ages 6 and 8, the perfect ages for visiting the Orlando theme parks. My kids, (much like me) were more enthralled with the marine life at Sea World than they were with all the rides and souvenir shops at Disney and EPCOT. They loved touching the sting rays, seeing the aquarium tanks, and enjoyed the show with the sea lions, dolphins, and at the time, Shamu the whale. As I recall, while all the smaller marine mammals seemed to follow their cues from the trainers with enthusiasm, the whale made me very nervous as he (or she) missed their cue several times and seemed much too big for the small pool of water where he lived. Somehow that part of the show and exhibit left me wondering what kind of training is needed to "tame" such a large creature who has a pretty advanced intelligence and whose size alone should demand a certain respect for distance from humans. It was the only attraction that felt wrong.

Fast forward to yesterday, when one of the Sea World "killer" attractions actually lived up to the reputation and fatally wounded an employee. While I am so sorry for the trainer and her family, I can't help but think that this is a tragedy that should not have happened. It's no secret that there have been many incidents and accidents at the park involving the Killer Whales, including three previous deaths. The latest death was different in that there were human spectators watching the horror unfold. Can you imagine the trauma of seeing that spectacle through the eyes of a child? I cannot. I think it is high time we rethink the hows and whys of using dangerous animals for entertainment. It doesn't seem fair to the animals who are following their natural instincts and it certainly doesn't seem fair to the children who are barraged with enough scary things in their lives. If people want to see Orcas, or Polar Bears, or Rhinos... there are plenty of nature shows whose skilled photographers can capture the natural antics of these beautiful but dangerous creatures. I don't think they belong in zoos and I certainly don't think they should be involved in the performing arts.

Food Shopping Made Easy... skip the poisons.

I do some form of exercise every day, have plenty of energy to clean and maintain a large Victorian home, and I've never felt better in my whole life. I have always been a good eater and quite frankly I have a fairly large appetite. I basically eat as much as I want and seem to maintain a healthy weight without spending hours in the gym or starving myself. I do a lot of research on the web and even though almost everything you read in regards to good health has conflicting viewpoints and rebuttals, common sense and trial and error have lead me to adopt a certain lifestyle that permits a feeling of health and well-being. There are three poisons that have been eliminated from my diet and yet they are so pervasive in American food that when I shop in the grocery store there are more foods that contain these poisons than not.

The first culprit to go is MSG, a flavor enhancer developed in Japan and used extensively in processed foods to make it taste better. It has been linked to migraine headaches, cardiac arrhythmias, Alzheimers, autism... and the list seems to be growing. This is one of the trickiest of chemicals to eliminate because it comes under a list of about 25 different names. Many of these names seem innocent enough: vegetable protein extract, hydrolyzed plant protein, yeast extract, autolysed yeast... why you would think these ingredients were based on natural flavors. Guess what? Natural flavor is an allowable buzz word for all these ingredients. They are just new names for Monosodium Glutamate. All fast food restaurants use this ingredient and as well as promoting weight gain, it is also addicting. Profits over health... I have no use for that!

The second poison is high-fructose corn syrup. This is probably the biggest contributor to obesity and the diabetes epidemic. It is basically fake sugar made from turning synthetic corn to "cornstarch", heating it to a "corn" syrup (keep in mind the corn is fake... you can't eat it). It is added to foods to make them taste sweeter than sugar and has the ability to extend shelf life of all those sweetened goodies. As a matter of fact, check most labels on any processed food and you will be sure to see its appearance... even in food products that are not supposed to be sweet. This poison is the staple ingredient in soda ( unless it is diet soda whose ingredients are just as bad) and although this beverage is known to cause obesity, our government subsidizes farmers (i.e big business conglomerates) who grow this fake corn. This poison is like a foreign substance when it gets into the body and in large quantities has the ability to harm the liver. The cost of convenience can be deadly indeed. When I want a soda I put a small amount of fruit syrup (containing real sugar) in a glass with seltzer water. It is just delicious!

Last but not least is the hydrogenated vegetable oil or trans fats that increase bad cholesterol levels, clog arteries, and contribute to heart disease. It's a molecular modified version of oil that is processed using heavy metals such as nickel, cadmium, platinum... wouldn't this alone scare you from using the stuff? But buyer beware here, because now companies are using "no trans fats" on labels, when in fact products are allowed to have 0.5 mg of the poison and still be considered trans fat free. Even if the label says it's "free," the prudent thing to do is to severely limit the products that need to brag about their trans fat free label. I make all my baked goods from scratch using old fashioned butter, and although I like savory snacks like potato chips... I limit these items in favor of foods that are naturally missing the trans fat, like nuts and seeds.

My trips to the grocery store are much quicker now that I have omitted these chemicals from my diet... so many aisles are dedicated to the sale of products that contain them that most of the food that I actually buy comes from the outer perimeter of the store. I did my research... followed through on eliminating these three culprits, and can feel the difference in my weight, energy levels, and general well-being. I found that the more you eat healthy natural food, the more you will crave natural healthy food. It's that simple.

Painted Walls

I'm enjoying my own handiwork after a week of painting. No, not the creative kind of painting... I have no talent on that front. I'm talking about the application of latex flat finnish on the old plaster walls of my foyer, stairwell, and second floor hallway. Our house is 129 years old and is still settling, so there are cracks and lumps, not to mention old paint drips and roller marks from years gone by... oh, and all those nail holes where pictures were hung. I'm ashamed to admit that there were about three nail holes and cracked plaster beneath those hastily hung pictures and trickets that decorated the walls. I had a lot of spackling and sanding to do before I could even think about painting. Then, I had to cover all the trim with painters masking tape, as I only had a three inch brush and knew in my impatience that I would not be very careful with the edging. The real challenge was carrying up the aluminum ladder from the basement without banging up the walls and trim that will not get painted, and moving it along the slippery drop cloth without scratching the hardwood floors. Only minor dings occurred. Once I was prepped, and dressed in old clothes, I put on some Enya as background music to keep me calm and patient. I took my time alternating between brushing and rolling, climbing up the ladder to reach the high spots and then climbing down with brush in hand to crouch on the floor and paint the low spots. I thought the most dangerous part would be painting the 12 foot high stairwell ceiling as the ladder sat perilously close to the stairs, but the only danger that took me by surprise was when I applied the new roller to the holder and caught the covered skin on one of my breasts in the doing. YEOWW!!! All I could think of was, "that's gonna leave a mark that I'll have a hard time explaining." Anyhoo, I did slip off the step-stool as I vigorously rolled the paint a little too horizontally for my reach... and took off a layer of fresh paint as I slid down the wall. Other that those little mishaps, I did a pretty good job and I'm now ready to do the trimwork. I just need a few days to rest my sore muscles.

A Day for Love

Sunday was Valentine's Day, a day when sweethearts show their love for one another with gifts and tokens of appreciation. Although every day provides a chance for romance, holidays serve as reminders that we need to celebrate and share the joy of what is most pleasurable in life. The three things that come to my mind when I think of celebration are Nature, good food, and doing for others. My husband thrilled me with three miniature rose plants in which I lost no time creating my window garden. Now when I look outside at the wintry landscape I have the cheery heads of budding flowers to remind me that Spring is right around the corner. My garden gives me much pleasure, but I have to be careful not to over-mother the plants as I am apt to do.

I decided it was a good day to bake, and so I made my husband shortbread heart cookies. There were only three ingredients: 2 1/2 cups flour, 1/2 cup of sugar and one pound of sweet butter. The dough was sticky and before rolling out on a floured surface, I had to refrigerate it for an hour or so. It felt good to use a rolling pin, as of late I have been in favor of the drop cookie, but it was challenging to get them even. Even more challenging was getting the sprinkles to stay on the unbaked cookie. My bunny rabbit has a sweet tooth and I had to shoo him out of the kitchen with a broom as I swept the colorful jimmies off the floor. They baked at 3oo degrees for about 30 minutes.

I am a big fan of a hearty stick to the ribs type of meal and I love vegetables more than any other food. After I baked my token of love, Gerry took over in the kitchen. He carefully defatted a pork roast and browned then braised it with red cabbage, sauerkraut, onion and carrots. He then made a medley of brussels sprouts, parsnip, and garlic in a mustard glaze and baked them to caramelized perfection. To spice it up a bit he also baked some large jalapenos, which as long as you don't eat the seeds are hot but tasty. There was even a fat free gravy to pour over the top of the rich, hearty, vegetable laden meal. We had our dinner by candlelight ( which we usually do on the weekends) and I ate slower than usual to savor every morsel of the dinner. Then we retreated to the TV room to watch our Saturday night British sitcoms with tea and dessert. Since I am on a lowfat diet (not for weight loss though) I had mango sherbet with a topping of wheat germ while Gerry enjoyed the butter rich shortbread hearts. We even stayed up like regular grown-ups to watch a movie before retiring to bed to enjoy each other's night time company. A day spent like this is worth more to me than all the world's diamonds and jewels!

Aging Gracefully

In a world gone mad with retaining eternal youth, I welcome the sight of the stray silver hairs that streak my hair and the faint lines that circle my mouth and eyes. They add a new dimension to my look without any cosmetic intervention by me. Unless there is some kind of grotesque deformity going on as I age, there will be no botox or plastic surgery for me. I have always taken good care of my skin and hair as I take pride in my good looks, though it hasn't always been this way. In my younger years I was hyper-critical of everything from my freckles to the the dulling of the once blonde hair that I had in my youth. I was always too fat or too thin, too white, or too ordinary. There were years in my early adulthood when my hair was dyed and frosted, permed and clipped in every style and color imaginable... and still I never looked right. Somehow over the years all that changed and now... well none of that really matters, as I am content with the way I look. I still have my morning ritual where I apply moisturizer and sun block all over. I also apply the subtle make-up that accentuates without overpowering my fair features (my one vanity is to match the make-up to my outfit). But once my face is on I go about my business and except for a reapplication of lipstick before my husband comes home (another habit that dies hard), I don't think about how I look, as I am too busy finding simple pleasures to fill my time. I laugh alot and smile alot and so the lines and wrinkles I have are a badge of honor for me. At night, I always remove my make-up and gently butter my face with an inexpensive moisturizer (one that does not test on animals) and brush my hair with the thinest coating of oil after I have applied it to my hands and elbows and knees. My teeth are a natural yellow tint, but they get brushed vigorously twice a day and flossed as well and there is no need to bleach them as I will never be a part of the entertainment crowd. Probably the best thing that I do for my middle-aged reflection in the mirror is to look at it without harsh judgement and verbally affirm, " you look marvelous!" So let it be written, so let it be done!

What a Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday was a perfect snow day! I woke to the gray blur of dawn and the yard and roads were already blanketed in about 4 inches of snow. I got out early to make a feeble attempt at shoveling the walkway and then decided I was much better off just sweeping the porches with my broom. Better yet, I got my camera and dashed around the backyard looking for hiding spots to capture the snow covered branches and other odd items of my interest without getting the camera too wet. I was greeted by a family of deer known for loitering in my yard, and at one point I looked eye to eye towards the great buck that took a step in my direction to assert his power. Gently I talked to him and asked his permission to continue out back to photograph the stream. At his lead the whole family bolted over the picket fence and ran into the neighbor's yard. It was gray and cold and windy and I only lasted outside for about a half an hour. To warm myself I baked some coconut meringue cookies with cheery maraschino cherries on top just to keep things festive. It seems like years since we've had snow of this magnitude, so why not celebrate! There was warm pea soup and biscuits for lunch and lots of green tea! In the afternoon the winds started to kick up fiercely and the snow became almost blinding. Gerry and I started on a walk around the block and I had to go back to get my sunglasses to keep the swirling snow from blinding me. We walked about a mile and it was unusual to see people with their snow blowers stop and wave hi to us. Something about a storm must excite people and they seem to become friendlier. At one point an electrical wire fell into the street right in front of us and we had to wave a car down and let them know to detour, as running into the camouflaged wire would have been dangerous. The visibility was so poor we couldn't see the end of the street, but we could hear the sounds of cracking tree limbs in the distance. Once home, Gerry decided to start shoveling as I made a snow woman in the whipping winds. I had to work fast as it was indeed a true blizzard. We had hamburgers, french fries, and baked beans for dinner as all of the outside activity allowed us the extra starch and calories to really picnic by the TV for a game of Jeopardy. This morning the sun rose with striated colors of purple, pale blue, and apricot. By the time the sun fully rose, we were outside for more shoveling and car cleaning as the blizzard left a foot or more of snow. Yesterday was so gray and dark, but today the sun shone brilliantly in the blue sky, melting the snow off the branches and wires in the balminess of a 30 degree day. Everything looked so crisp and clean and vivid! Winter isn't as hard to take when we have days like these!

Here it Comes Again...

I wait in restless anticipation of another snow day, like a school aged child with a new sled, only for me it is a new camera and I am over a half a century old! Our last storm was less than a week ago and although some areas got over 2 feet, we had an enjoyable 4 inches. All day I waited at the window watching for the tell tale signs of a coming blizzard. I got to the store to buy the provisions for being snowed in... mostly snacks and juice and ice-cream... the important stuff. I got impatient when at the predicted time of 6 PM there was no snow falling yet. Well, the weatherman said it would start at that time! It actually didn't start until after midnight and as my bedtime is 9 PM, I couldn't wait up. But at the sound of whistling trees I awoke at 4 AM and had to sneak downstairs in the darkness to see the whirling of frosty flakes in the shadows of the trees and bushes that were illuminated by the back porch light. Just delightful... I felt like running outside in my robe and dancing barefooted on the patio, but at that hour there are many wild animals that lurk about and I wouldn't want to frighten them. I returned to bed with the thought that school was cancelled and now I could sleep in... and I did until sun-up. After a good breakfast of waffles and blackberries with syrup and whipped cream, I bundled up to go play in the snow with my trusted broom. It only appeared as I was cleaning cars and sweeping porches, as my imagination had me conjuring up snow fairies in chariots as the sweeping sting of diamond confetti whirled around my face. My ever ready camera was there to help me find the magick to share. Again I'm excited as this snow storm is supposed to be even bigger than the last. My pea soup was started at 5 AM, my snack shopping is done, and I had my daughter visit with baby Annabel in case I get snowed in for a few days... one can only hope. I have an urge to bake and so there will be biscuits with dinner tonight... rolled ones and not the cheater drop biscuits. Pardon me while I check the sky outside my window for the 100th time today... I'm a little excited anticipating a really big storm this time, and like a real adult I'll probably have to call out from work (my volunteer job) so I can have the guilty pleasure of a real snow day.

Made in China... no thanks.

I can remember a time way back as a child when anything made in China was considered junk. I didn't really understand why, I mean I thought the Chinese finger cuffs some relative bought me for Christmas one year were pretty cool, and so were my grandparent's glass and paper wind chimes. As I grew older and began to think things through, I thought globalization was a pretty cool thing... people from all around the world selling their wares to make a profit in the same way the US did. It seemed pretty reasonable until I realized that in some parts of the world children were still forced into unfair labor, and peasants still existed who made pennies a day for their hard work. But now the whole playing field has changed and it seems that in spite of poisoned food, unsafe product lines, and severe human rights injustices, China seems to have the market sewn up on most products offered for sale here in the US. Five out of five products I needed from the local Bed Bath and Beyond were all made in China. There were no other alternatives for these household items. I settled on buying four of the five (I didn't really need a silky puff to wash myself). REluctantly I purchased the four other items and made a mental note to check my labels more closely next time. We need jobs badly here in the states and how will we ever get them back if all the stuff we think we need is coming from China. They don't even play fair by the international monetary rules, so why are our shelves lined with all of their junky products. It's probably because no one else can compete with their low prices and so other countries including our own just give up. I know it is probably late in the game to expect people to pay more for American products, as everyone is so cost conscious nowadays, but I'm going to try really hard to shop and buy goods that are made in the US... or at least from a country who plays fair in the global market.

Brigid's Day

Yesterday was one of my favorite holidays on the Wiccan Calendar called Imbolc or Brigid's Day. In Celtic legend, Brigid was a Goddess who fed the hungry people of Ireland with her magic cow that produced lakes of rich milk. Although her cow was red eared, I'm particularly fond of the black and white variety seen above. Brigid was also the patron deity of silversmiths, poets, midwives, and ale-makers... a strong woman of many talents, so much in fact that when the Christians took over the spirituality of the Irish, the former pagans would not give up their beloved Goddess and so she was made a saint. In the Christian view she was the midwife to Jesus's birth. The word Imbolc means" in the belly" referring to the lambing time of birth that signifies the coming of the Spring. Brigid is associated with the fire of the hearth or purification, and so her day is a good time to get one's house (and spiritual house) in order.

I usually bake a special dessert on this day and yesterday I chose to make a French Apple Pie which has apples and raisins and is spiced with cinnamon, allspice, ginger, and nutmeg. Once baked I spread a vanilla glaze over the top which made the pie look like snow covered hills.

My ceremony is a simple one that includes various readings and incantations aimed at strengthening my connection with Spirit. I usually play soft Celtic music, decorate my alter with fresh flowers or leaves, and I light many candles and incense. After the readings there is a meditation and perhaps a divination. Then sacred magick is performed (that's the only part of the ceremony that is secret). At the end of the ceremony a toast of sparkling juice or cider is made to the God/Goddess as well as an offering of small cookies. This is referred to "cakes and ale" and it's important to partake of the refreshment as lots of energy is expended. These rituals that I perform are really no different than the connection that others would find by going to their own houses of worship on a holiday. The only difference is that I make up the rules and readings according to what feels right for me. Oh, and there is usually a celebratory dessert after the ceremony is completed. The pie served with ice-cream was just divine!

Feeling Old Musically

I love all kinds of music from classical to synthpop and almost all genres in between. So like many Americans I tuned in to the Grammys last night to hear some of the current musical stars and see their performances. Perhaps I didn't expect that much, as the glitzy stage was set and the stars began appearing with their music. I didn't expect to see cirque de soleil acrobatics or comic book characters coming to life. I was prepared for bright lights, handheld microphones and clothes befitting the genres... but somehow I was confused. The Grammys are supposed to celibrate the best of the best in the music industry but no one sounded all that good. Now I know most of the contenders who I usually hear on the radio... I'm not that out of touch. The songs are catchy and the vocals and songwriting are really good. I always liked Pink with her offbeat style, but even she seemed to be dressed like a Hollywood starlet with the blonde hair, make-up, and scanty outfit and although her acrobatic performance was stunning, it was a distraction from the music. The Black Eyed-Peas have a great sound, but I have to admit that the shouting and the weird robots dancing around reminded me of a high school musical... it did make me laugh though. I had never heard of the country music winners, I admit, but I looked forward to their performance with Leon Russell. Poor Leon looked like Rip Van Winkle but his voice was still clear as a bell if he was indeed singing live. He did a good service to the winners who I found uninspired. I waited impatiently to see Stevie Nicks perform with Taylor Swift, both of whom I like very much. Something was wrong, as I strained to hear the clear vocals that were muffled together and poorly mixed. I didn't feel the need to continue watching. I was a Michael Jackson fan, but the thought of seeing him dancing around posthumously knowing how he was ridiculed after his alleged "fall" would just give me the willies. It just seems so hypocritical. The whole production was so over the top in gaudy decoration, the music seemed flat in comparison. I admit that I'm probably just an aging crankster who doesn't enjoy all he theatrical hype that goes along with the Grammy awards. I'd rather watch the wonderful performances of the rising stars on a venue like you-tube (or better yet itunes) where the purity of the music really shines through.

All About a Mother's Love

A little star lay crestfallen upon the soft earth

feeling alone and out of sorts.

Mother Moon shone down her golden beam of light

and gently asked, "my child what is the matter?"

I am so little up there in the sky, he stammered.

"Why can't I be like the great stars that shine so bright?"

Mother Moon replied, "The great Diviner made you especially

for the wishes of some small child much like yourself.

You and only you can shine for his earthly wishes."

After a snuffle and a deep sigh, the little star

smiled and asked, "then I do matter?"

"Yes, you matter very much," replied Mother Moon.

And with that she caressed the little star with her

golden light and placed him gently back into the sky.

Only she could see the face of a small child gazing up

to the night sky in search of the star who could

bravely grant his important wish.

There was a twinkle in her eye.

Democracy is Dead in America

Democracy which is supposed to refer to rule by and for the people has breathed it's last dying breath here in America. We now have a two party system made up of wealthy politicians whose only goal seems to be is to get elected and stay elected. And it's no wonder why. With corporations and wealthy institutions opening suitcases of money through the whoring works of lobbyists, in exchange for voting favors to suit their agendas... well money talks with the language of God so it must be trusted, right? Wrong! In my mind a true democracy should work like a family where the guardians (hello Plato) set guidelines for the children, but treat them as loved equals and share the wealth for the well-being of all. Here we have a family where the parents seem to team up with other parents to enjoy lavish lifestyles while the children are made to work like slaves, thrown crumbs at their hungry mouths while suffering constant reminders of punishment if they don't toe the line and stay in their place. Some of the children will become fierce defenders of the abusive parents believing that things can only get worse, some will sullenly accept their place and give up their dreams and aspirations, others will whine and complain believing tantrums will change things, but I'm putting my faith on the game changers who see the injustice, call it out of its hiding, and inspire others to join the fight against the tyranny. It is called a revolution and it is about time. If you look up the term oligarchy, it means "a form of government where the power is vested in a dominant class or clique. Although the majority of people vote for the clique of wealthy politicians, it's only because they are the only choice you have. Gone are the days when an Independent candidate can even get on the ballot. There seems to be two prerequisites for being a politician, lots of money and the ability to be a convincing liar. For all the work the Congress and Senate claim be doing, they have accomplished nothing for the people who have voted them into office. Last night's State of the Union Address was telling. On one hand the Democrats did a lot of clapping and cheering for the President as he tried to outline the direction forward, but behind his back they squabble about petty nonsense related to their own pet projects. The Republicans don't even pretend to like the President, as they sit like spoiled sore losers who will only work to obstruct any plan that doesn't suit their own slimy agendas. Their big job is to turn the middle class against the poor, while behind the scenes they play kinky games with big business so they can remain in the upper wealth category of the clique. The majority of Supreme Courts justices are even worse. They have paved the way for multinational big business... the greediest and most powerful of all entities to hold our future elections hostage with bags of dirty money. You can forget about your measly little vote counting for anything now. Unless you are up there with the clique, plan on remaining a peasant or a serf. There is a hope, however, and our President is appealing to us... the people, to get tough about the change we all clamored for. There is so much we can do. First we must vote out the clique by putting our own working class people on the ballots, no Democrats or Republicans allowed. Next we can stop using credit cards, to stop the loan sharking that crippled our buying power in the first place. The money of the people should only go to local banks like a George Bailey's Savings and Loan who will use money wisely to invest in the working class for whom they serve. In an attempt to educate our children, we as the guardians should collectively decide how much a college education should cost and base it on academic merit and a fair percentage of income. Residents should vote for budgets with the future in mind and stop worrying about their own selfish tax relief. If your rich company is holding your life hostage with more work and lower wages and you hate your job don't get mad... quit and do something you might enjoy or start your own business. If you're financially in trouble, call upon your neighbors for help... as we can see with the Haitian relief effort, American people really do want to help. We have a great leader in President Obama, but like he said he can't effect change alone and it seems that many of our elected and appointed officials are in no position to even want to try.... unless it's self serving. If we had a democracy, they would all be fired.

Curried Glow of an Indian Feast

On a cold winter's day with a spittle of rain in the air, the best place to be is in the kitchen with the creative thoughts of a homemade meal. Gerry had found a recipe for marinated lambchops, Indian style, that he had a hankering to make. Though he often cooks the whole meal and rarely uses a recipe or a cookbook, the NY Jets were playing and so he thought it would be a good quick dish to serve after the game. I wanted to help with the meal and so I flew to the cookbooks to find some complimentary side dishes that were within my creative capability. I found a lentil recipe that would use up the bag of red lentils that have been occupying space in the cabinet for quite some time. It was called chana dahl (sounds like china doll?) with cucumbers and seemed pretty easy. I also found a recipe for warm spicy yoghurt, which made me think of some fabulous dish we had in an Indian restaurant once that looked like a caramelized curdled milk and was quite delicious. I've been in a baking mood lately, and although I recently made some delicious oatmeal currant cookies, the first batch were ruined because I forgot to add the oatmeal. When the pancake like cookies came out of the oven, I realized my mistake and scraped them into a bowl and mixed the broken cookies with raw oats. It looked like granola when it cooled and so I thought I would use the mistake in a pie... a custard pie. With our game plan in mind we went to the store for the ingredients and upon returning home I went to get ready to visit my grand-daughter as planned. Before I could get ready for the visit, Gerry had his lamb chops marinating as if nothing had occurred. Off we went to see our little Annabel, who was contented to sleep in our arms as we passed her back and forth. At 3 PM we made it home in time for the football kick-off. I got busy with my recipes while Gerry watched the game, giving me hints of how our team was doing by yells and claps. I made my custard pie using fat-free lactaid, cut the sugar in half, and when it was almost set, I added my cookie granola for some extra pizazz. The crust got a little overcooked because it took almost double the time to set than if I followed the directions and used whole milk. No disaster... it was firm and golden and looked pretty good. While the baking was in progress I put the lentils to boil and in no time I had a sudsy spill-over mess on the stove. At the time I was in deep concentration over the peeling and grating of garlic and ginger, the de-seeding of cucumbers and tiny little chilies, as well as the measuring of turmeric, coriander, cumin seeds... an endless combination of spices. Needless to say the two recipes I chose along with my "simple" dessert cost me the entire football game. I was sweating and swearing and had a big mess going on. At one point Gerry came into the kitchen and just shook his head as I was "fighting" with an onion using a steak knife ( I admit I'm scared to death of his chef knives). I managed to get the kitchen in order in time for Gerry to deftly fry and oven finnish his chops. He plated them on a bed of mesclun and whipped together a mint sauce as well. As you can see they looked spectacular... and tasted divine. My lentils were spicy and delicious, and the warm yogurt with onions and chilis was really hot, but really good. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to look like egg-salad (you just can't get a fine mince of onion with a steak knife), but scooping it up with delicious warm Naan bread, you didn't really have time to think about the looks. The pie was served hours after dinner with a little whipped cream, and although time consuming for me, the candle-lit meal was a delicious success (in spite of a Jets loss).

* Photo compliments to Gerry

Is Contentment Boredom in Disguise?

One thing I've learned from the various dramas that have occurred in my life, is that drama is like a runaway train that speeds up and out of control by the energy it receives. If it's negative energy as fuel you can be sure it will meet the destination in a crash and burn scenario. If it's positive energy it will fuel joy, laughter, and excitement until it reaches a peak, runs out of steam, and then gently plateaus to a point of rest and relaxation. Often during this rest period when nothing is really exciting and yet nothing is dramatically wrong, there is a sense of restlessness. This restlessness is a subtle form anxiety that occurs when we are "just being" without distraction. We are taught at a young age that it is unhealthy to "do nothing" and so there is the constant striving for activity and interest in doing anything... especially if it means creating drama. Imagine going to a dinner party and being asked, "how are you doing?" I can almost bet that no one will want to interact with you if you answer complacently, "just being," and leave it at that. It's usually the most dramatic storytellers as crafters of doing, thinking, and feeling that garner all the attention because it's taught that "just being" is well... boring. But the positive side of boring (defined as a lack of interest or activity) is that by learning to be comfortable with that natural plateau of life's ups and downs, there is a sense of peace or contentment that starts creeping in. Though everyone claims to strive for peace, I don't think anyone would be willing to give up the excitements or arousals that would cease to be in that perfect state of contented being. There would be nothing left to strive for, and that in itself would be a form of death. No wonder, as we yawn at the everyday ordinariness of the life we have carved for ourselves, we get anxious when bored. As co-creators in a world that thrives on dramas and distraction, peace or contentment is really just boredom in disguise.

Mind Blurts

Often as I go about my day doing the tasks that I assign to myself in the hopes of filling the day with meaningful activity, some quote will just pop in my head and distract me to no end. It's not just the usual mental chatter that I've learned to chase away, but a bold statement that demands a closer listen. Usually I'm good about refraining from blurting out the first thing that comes to my mind in front of other people, as I've been caught in some embarrassing situations where a seemingly innocent comment by me, has resulted in peals of laughter as a the phrase is unconsciously linked to strong innuendo. For instance, one time I blurted out to my in-laws that I love pigs and I sleep with one every night... I was referring to my stuffed animal Babe and not my husband which caused a moment of uncomfortable silence. My kids have a field day with my ignorant blurts, and have asked me to use the word "bunny" and not "rabbit" when I am going on about how I love my pet Otis. It would never had occurred to me that people might be thinking of me loving a sex-toy. Geez. No, the mind blurts that I'm talking about now come out from the blue as internal directives. Today the voices blurted, "Live your life as if it depends on it." I was baking cookies for a relative at the time and thought I was in the process of living. I took inventory on the tasks that I needed to accomplish and realized that most of them involved doing something for someone else... there wasn't a "for me" task on the list. So here I am at the computer with a host of things to do and I'm writing about myself, for myself, as if it really matters... just to appease the "Furies" so they will shut up. Will they? I guess it just depends.

Otis Missed Me!

Last weekend proved to be a very shitty one for me... quite literally. I had been anticipating going to Gerry's holiday party for dinner and dancing and socializing (I don't get out much). Gerry bought me a new black dress and high heeled shoes and I was so excited for Saturday night. I had two episodes recently where I thought that I had thrown my back out doing various household tasks but eventually the spasms subsided and I was feeling... ok. On Friday I awoke with an uncomfortable feeling in my abdomen, but I usually ignore stuff like that because at my age there's always something uncomfortable going on... "mind over matter" is my motto. However, by 7 PM the discomfort turned into a stabbing pain in my side and I knew I needed to be seen at the local clinic. They did bloodwork and sent me to the hospital for a CT scan, with a diagnosis of suspected appendicitis. Was I pissed off thinking about my missed party? You bet. I sent Gerry home knowing that this would be an overnight ordeal and worst case scenario they would snare out the appendix and I would go home in the morning. At 1 PM the CT scan was completed and more blood work was taken. At 3 PM the ER doctor came to tell me my appendix was fine but there was something suspicious on my colon and my liver enzymes were very elevated. I was told that I would be admitted for further testing... the doctor looked really concerned. On Saturday all thoughts of the party disappeared as I was handed the report which had the words "suspected malignant neoplasm" in the report. I almost fainted and being an oncology nurse for years... well you could just imagine how I felt. The pain subsided but was replaced with dread and shock and fear. I tried to be brave for Gerry's sake, but I'm very emotional and spilled a few tears of self pity. He was so supportive and kept reminding me to be positive. He even laid his hands on my side to do a healing. I was so touched and cried for his love and concern. Then the bowel prep of mega laxatives began and for two days I was awkwardly running to the bathroom with an IV pole and a pad between my legs to get "clear for the colonoscopy. I didn't want anyone to know about my predicament and I certainly didn't want any visitors under the circumstance. I was happy to hear from Gerry that back at home Otis my bunny kept jumping up on my side of the couch seemingly perplexed that I wasn't there. Gerry put my bathrobe on the couch and poor Otis burrowed into it and wouldn't come out for some time. It's not like him to do something like that! I had my test on Monday and miraculously they did not find anything wrong. The doctor and nurses were baffled. I still have to have a test to see why the liver enzymes went up and where the pain was coming from, but they think I passed a gallstone. I wouldn't have thought of that as I had my gall bladder removed last year, but evidently the body can still makes stones that block the bile duct from the liver. Who knew? I'm home now and waiting for a follow up test and a clean bill of health, as I'm convinced that Gerry and Otis healed me more than medical care ever could.