If you'd like to help with the disaster efforts in Haiti, I would encourage you do to so. Here are two ways you can:
1) Donate to the LDS Humanitarian Aid Fund. 100% of donations go to disaster relief, and we have one of the world's best track records in actually getting the supplies to those who need them.
2) Donate to Doctors Without Borders via the Yarn Harlot's Knitters Without Borders campaign. I highly respect DWB and what they do, and if you're not comfortable donating to an organization with a religious affiliation, this is the one I recommend.
While I don't have TV/Cable, I understand that damage in Port au Prince is devastating. Please, take a minute to think about something you could easily go without buying this next week or month, and then go make a donation. The babies being born in Port au Prince, those who are just being found after days of entrapment in rubble, and countless others will be blessed by your small sacrifice.
I live such a blessed, easy, prosperous life.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
And THAT's the Rest of the Story . . .
Curtis & Leroy saw an ad in the Starkville Daily News Newspaper in Starkville, MS and bought a mule for $100. The farmer agreed to deliver the mule the next day. The next morning the farmer drove up and said, "Sorry, fellows, I have some bad news, the mule died last night."
Curtis & Leroy replied, "Well, then just give us our money back."
The farmer said, "Can't do that. I went and spent it already."
They said, "OK then, just bring us the dead mule."
The farmer asked, "What in the world ya'll gonna do with a dead mule?"
Curtis said, "We gonna raffle him off."
The farmer said, "You can't raffle off a dead mule!"
Leroy said, "We shore can! Heck, we don't hafta tell nobody he's dead!"
A couple of weeks later, the farmer ran into Curtis &Leroy at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store and asked. "What'd you fellers ever do with that dead mule?"
They said,"We raffled him off like we said we wuz gonna do."
Leroy said,"Shucks, we sold 500 tickets fer two dollars apiece and made a profit of $898."
The farmer said,"Good Heavens, didn't anyone complain?"
Curtis said, "Well, the feller who won got upset. So we gave him his two dollars back."
Curtis and Leroy now work for the government.
They're overseeing the Bailout Program.
Curtis & Leroy replied, "Well, then just give us our money back."
The farmer said, "Can't do that. I went and spent it already."
They said, "OK then, just bring us the dead mule."
The farmer asked, "What in the world ya'll gonna do with a dead mule?"
Curtis said, "We gonna raffle him off."
The farmer said, "You can't raffle off a dead mule!"
Leroy said, "We shore can! Heck, we don't hafta tell nobody he's dead!"
A couple of weeks later, the farmer ran into Curtis &Leroy at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store and asked. "What'd you fellers ever do with that dead mule?"
They said,"We raffled him off like we said we wuz gonna do."
Leroy said,"Shucks, we sold 500 tickets fer two dollars apiece and made a profit of $898."
The farmer said,"Good Heavens, didn't anyone complain?"
Curtis said, "Well, the feller who won got upset. So we gave him his two dollars back."
Curtis and Leroy now work for the government.
They're overseeing the Bailout Program.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Raw Update Journal: It's only the beginning.
I blogged that I had gone raw . . . blogged that I would continue raw . . . and now I'm making good on the promise to actually tell you all something about it. ;o)
It has been interesting.
First, I'm going to list some of the latest perks:
Since the day we went raw (one month and four weeks ago this Friday), I have lost 14.4 pounds. I'm the only one in my family losing weight . . . Vern is maintaining (he doesn't have anything to lose), and the children are looking healthy and round, and growing just fine.
While I'm not down to the 4-5 hours sleep many raw foodists rave about, I do really well on eight . . . which I haven't been able to do in at least six years.
My pathetic abdominals have really made a good show of finally getting back to their former selves. (With all the other pregnancies, they did so within six months or so on their own . . . this last time, they simply stopped at about six weeks post-partum and refused to improve no matter what I did.)
My irises are getting clearer and lighter in color. This week I noticed the brown inner portion (I have hazel eyes: half green, half brown) is significantly lighter . . . more of a dark straw color than the medium earthy brown they have been all of my life.
My back is getting better all on its own. Nearly two months of treatment in Oregon before the move did little lasting good (although it really helped me feel better while I was going), but once I went raw, it improved dramatically all on its own.
And now, onto some of the actual story . . .
In the beginning, I kept things very simple. VERY simple. I used the recipes at the back of the book 12 Steps to Raw Foods, along with some common sense dishes (fruit or green smoothies, salads, raw muesli, etc). For the first four days or so, I would begin to feel like it was time to eat and start thinking about things I would usually make (grilled salmon, brown rice and salad, for example), and then I'd feel the fear begin to rise. Fear of not knowing what to feed my family, fear of being hungry, fear of who-knows-what. Then I'd think calmly about my handly little book
, and start going about the task of feeding everyone.
After a few days, those fearful episodes ceased entirely. I began sleeping better, feeling better, and began (for the first time in a LONG time) to actually feel hungry again. It has been years since I have felt what we all know as hunger. Due to the hypoglycemia, I would go straight from doing fine to shaky and/or headache and/or depressed and/or panic attack. So not fun. Sometimes I even got to feel the draining, sinking feeling as my blood sugar plunged, and to anticipate for a terrible minute or two on what was coming next.
A few days after we made the switch, I was up very, very late on a Saturday night. (I think I got about five hours.) Sunday is a full day for us, with church attendance and service, and the rest filled with family time. It takes a lot of energy, but is the most fulfilling and happy day of the week for me. I was a little less energetic than I had been the preceding days, but compared to what I would have been pre-raw, I was amazed. So was Vern. I've had plenty of short nights since then, and while most of the following days haven't been as great as that Sunday was, they're still like a walk in the park compared to the "bad" days of the past.
I should probably explain just what the "bad" days were like, eh? Okay.
A typical bad day included most of the following, and sometimes all:
Those, my lovelies, are what hypoglycemia can do to you. Many health professionals call those symptoms "depression" . . . which they are. But depression is not a disease. It is a symptom. And if you change the fuel you give your body, the depression will leave. Whole, raw, complete foods do the trick. I can eat raw, whole fruit smoothies and dates for an entire day, and feel great. No crashes, nada.
Now that I'm past them, it seems easier to talk about them. While stuck in that cycle, the knowledge that my life consisted mostly of these kinds of days felt as though it would crush me . . . it was difficult to be anything like the mother I want to be, and to not be able to see my way out of where I was didn't help. (Yeah. Understatement, that.) I felt like I could never catch up to my husband's and children's needs . . . that I would always be behind them on sleep, mealtimes, everything . . . I wasn't fast enough, strong enough, good enough . . .
And now they're nearly gone. (The bad days, not my husband and children. ;o)
I still have off days every so often. Short nights bring them on, as have times when I've allowed something a little questionable to come into my food supply. (Agave syrup more than once or twice a week in small amounts is not good for me.) But these "off days" are barely even a shadow of what the bad days used to be. Honestly, my off days now are what my really good days were like then. And those good days were only two (or if I was lucky, three) out of seven. Now I'm at least five good days out of seven, and it's really more like six or seven out of seven.
People ask me all the time "Don't you miss _____?", or "Isn't it hard?", or "How can you handle it?"
My response is simple: "Giving up _____ is nothing. I have my life back."
It has been interesting.
First, I'm going to list some of the latest perks:
Since the day we went raw (one month and four weeks ago this Friday), I have lost 14.4 pounds. I'm the only one in my family losing weight . . . Vern is maintaining (he doesn't have anything to lose), and the children are looking healthy and round, and growing just fine.
While I'm not down to the 4-5 hours sleep many raw foodists rave about, I do really well on eight . . . which I haven't been able to do in at least six years.
My pathetic abdominals have really made a good show of finally getting back to their former selves. (With all the other pregnancies, they did so within six months or so on their own . . . this last time, they simply stopped at about six weeks post-partum and refused to improve no matter what I did.)
My irises are getting clearer and lighter in color. This week I noticed the brown inner portion (I have hazel eyes: half green, half brown) is significantly lighter . . . more of a dark straw color than the medium earthy brown they have been all of my life.
My back is getting better all on its own. Nearly two months of treatment in Oregon before the move did little lasting good (although it really helped me feel better while I was going), but once I went raw, it improved dramatically all on its own.
And now, onto some of the actual story . . .
In the beginning, I kept things very simple. VERY simple. I used the recipes at the back of the book 12 Steps to Raw Foods, along with some common sense dishes (fruit or green smoothies, salads, raw muesli, etc). For the first four days or so, I would begin to feel like it was time to eat and start thinking about things I would usually make (grilled salmon, brown rice and salad, for example), and then I'd feel the fear begin to rise. Fear of not knowing what to feed my family, fear of being hungry, fear of who-knows-what. Then I'd think calmly about my handly little book
, and start going about the task of feeding everyone.After a few days, those fearful episodes ceased entirely. I began sleeping better, feeling better, and began (for the first time in a LONG time) to actually feel hungry again. It has been years since I have felt what we all know as hunger. Due to the hypoglycemia, I would go straight from doing fine to shaky and/or headache and/or depressed and/or panic attack. So not fun. Sometimes I even got to feel the draining, sinking feeling as my blood sugar plunged, and to anticipate for a terrible minute or two on what was coming next.
A few days after we made the switch, I was up very, very late on a Saturday night. (I think I got about five hours.) Sunday is a full day for us, with church attendance and service, and the rest filled with family time. It takes a lot of energy, but is the most fulfilling and happy day of the week for me. I was a little less energetic than I had been the preceding days, but compared to what I would have been pre-raw, I was amazed. So was Vern. I've had plenty of short nights since then, and while most of the following days haven't been as great as that Sunday was, they're still like a walk in the park compared to the "bad" days of the past.
I should probably explain just what the "bad" days were like, eh? Okay.
A typical bad day included most of the following, and sometimes all:
- Deep fatigue, such that climbing the stairs took all of my energy, made my heart pound, and required rest at the top.
- Nearly overwhelming feelings of hopelessness and despair.
- Incredibly short temper.
- Unkind tones of voice (often completely unnoticed by me until someone pointed it out)
- Lots of time spent distracting myself from everything around me.
- Deep-level hunger, accompanied by a complete disinterest in eating anything (with the disinterest often bordering on revulsion).
Those, my lovelies, are what hypoglycemia can do to you. Many health professionals call those symptoms "depression" . . . which they are. But depression is not a disease. It is a symptom. And if you change the fuel you give your body, the depression will leave. Whole, raw, complete foods do the trick. I can eat raw, whole fruit smoothies and dates for an entire day, and feel great. No crashes, nada.
Now that I'm past them, it seems easier to talk about them. While stuck in that cycle, the knowledge that my life consisted mostly of these kinds of days felt as though it would crush me . . . it was difficult to be anything like the mother I want to be, and to not be able to see my way out of where I was didn't help. (Yeah. Understatement, that.) I felt like I could never catch up to my husband's and children's needs . . . that I would always be behind them on sleep, mealtimes, everything . . . I wasn't fast enough, strong enough, good enough . . .
And now they're nearly gone. (The bad days, not my husband and children. ;o)
I still have off days every so often. Short nights bring them on, as have times when I've allowed something a little questionable to come into my food supply. (Agave syrup more than once or twice a week in small amounts is not good for me.) But these "off days" are barely even a shadow of what the bad days used to be. Honestly, my off days now are what my really good days were like then. And those good days were only two (or if I was lucky, three) out of seven. Now I'm at least five good days out of seven, and it's really more like six or seven out of seven.
People ask me all the time "Don't you miss _____?", or "Isn't it hard?", or "How can you handle it?"
My response is simple: "Giving up _____ is nothing. I have my life back."
The Economy is Bad, Folks . . .
How bad? It's so bad that . . .
- I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.
- I ordered a burger at McDonald's and the kid behind the counter asked, "Can you afford fries with that?"
- CEO's are now playing miniature golf.
- If the bank returns your check marked "Insufficient Funds," you call them and ask if they meant you or them.
- Hot Wheels and Matchbox stocks are trading higher than GM.
- McDonald's is selling the 1/4 ouncer.
- Parents in Beverly Hills fired their nannies and learned their children's names.
- A truckload of Americans was caught sneaking into Mexico .
- Dick Cheney took his stockbroker hunting.
- Motel Six won't leave the light on anymore.
- The Mafia is laying off judges.
- Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen.
- Congress says they are looking into this Bernard Madoff scandal. Oh Great!! The guy who made $50 Billion disappear is being investigated by the people who made $1.5 Trillion disappear!
- And, finally...
- I was so depressed last night thinking about the economy, wars, jobs, my savings, Social Security, retirement funds, etc., I called the Suicide Lifeline. I got a call center in Pakistan , and when I told them I was suicidal, they got all excited, and asked if I could drive a truck.
(This came via email, without attribution. If anyone knows who came up with these, I'd be happy to add a reference.)
Monday, January 4, 2010
Too Stinkin' Cute!
Friday, January 1, 2010
Back to the Future
It's now officially the year Two Thousand and Ten.
2-0-1-0.
Is it just me, or is there this aura of mystery and living "in the future" around this year? When we were kids, movies were made about years beginning with "Twenty". "What will you be doing in 2010?" seemed to be such a far-off question. But far off it is no longer. Here's what I'll be doing in 2010. How about you? I'd love to hear answers from everyone who sees this . . . just leave me a comment so I know where to go read your answers. :o)
1. Keeping my inobx EMPTY.
2. Continuing to eat a 98% raw diet.
3. Purging more than a decade's worth of stuff.
4. Keeping only what I'll use that I love and/or that will make me happy while I use it.
5. Designing (personally) and constructing (not completely personally) a carriage house, in which we'll live until the house proper is complete. Seven people in a 24'x 36' apartment should be F-U-N, right?
6. Designing said house, and seeing how much we need to save before we can begin. ;o)
7. Putting in a garden large enough to help significantly in feeding my family.
What seven things are you going to do this year?
2-0-1-0.
Is it just me, or is there this aura of mystery and living "in the future" around this year? When we were kids, movies were made about years beginning with "Twenty". "What will you be doing in 2010?" seemed to be such a far-off question. But far off it is no longer. Here's what I'll be doing in 2010. How about you? I'd love to hear answers from everyone who sees this . . . just leave me a comment so I know where to go read your answers. :o)
1. Keeping my inobx EMPTY.
2. Continuing to eat a 98% raw diet.
3. Purging more than a decade's worth of stuff.
4. Keeping only what I'll use that I love and/or that will make me happy while I use it.
5. Designing (personally) and constructing (not completely personally) a carriage house, in which we'll live until the house proper is complete. Seven people in a 24'x 36' apartment should be F-U-N, right?
6. Designing said house, and seeing how much we need to save before we can begin. ;o)
7. Putting in a garden large enough to help significantly in feeding my family.
What seven things are you going to do this year?
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Ahem.
Another Oldie but Goodie from the world of email forwards . . .
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk’s office, was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.
She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is,” explained the recorder, "do you have a job or are you just a ...."?
"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman.
"I'm a Mom."
"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."
"What is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it? I do not know. The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked up as though she had not heard right.
I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanity ties, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3...
Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.
She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is,” explained the recorder, "do you have a job or are you just a ...."?
"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman.
"I'm a Mom."
"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."
"What is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it? I do not know. The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked up as though she had not heard right.
I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanity ties, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3...
Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mom." Motherhood! What a glorious career!
Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations?"
And great grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates?"
I think so!
I also think it makes Aunts "Associate Research Assistants."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Friday, December 18, 2009
We interrupt this program . . .
to bring you one of the neatest Ikea hacks I've ever seen . . .
a yarn swift. :o)
It wouldn't be hard to drill a few more holes, to make the skein size adjustable. Man, I do miss living near Ikea . . .
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Vegetables in Winter?
So I've just ordered this book:
Since most of our diet is now fruits and vegetables (along with sprouted nuts & seeds, and fermented foods), the idea of providing our own, even in winter, is wildly attractive. (Have you SEEN the prices of organic produce lately? Ay yi yi.) And as our growing season here is between 4-5 months, knowing how to continue to provide for ourselves gives me this great, warm feeling inside.
So, I'll let you know what I think of this book. It seems to be the small-scale farm version of his Four Season Harvest, which I really really love. Elliot Coleman has a respect for, and understanding of, the earth, its seasons, plants, and their needs. The kind of understanding that I'm eager to gain; first through study, and then through faith*.
(You know, I really should probably post a few book reviews of books I actually ready lately . . . like Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, Thy Gold to Refine, 12 Steps to Raw Foods, Signature Family Dishes, Kabul Beauty School, La Hacienda, or any of the fourteen Georgette Heyer novels I devoured during the first half of the year. Requests on which goes first welcome.)
*My definition of Faith: a belief which moves one to action, or the application of knowledge gained by teaching (as opposed to the knowledge gained by experience). Faith is work--the application of principles learned and the true test of a principles truthfulness or validity.
And I'm not sure I can adequately express how excited I am. (I know, I know. Vegetables. In winter. That's what the grocery store is supposed to be for.) But I've been seriously uncomfortable with getting all of our food from mostly unknown sources, exposed to who knows what (pollution, unwashed hands, the treatments allowed under the "organic" label), and harvested long, long ago. A Safeway produce lady told me they warehouse their produce for two weeks before it gets to the store. I was astounded. Not only does that mean it doesn't keep (good for them, I guess), but the nutritional value is pretty much gone by then. Safeway successfully changes fresh, reasonably healthy produce into empty calories. With fiber.
Since most of our diet is now fruits and vegetables (along with sprouted nuts & seeds, and fermented foods), the idea of providing our own, even in winter, is wildly attractive. (Have you SEEN the prices of organic produce lately? Ay yi yi.) And as our growing season here is between 4-5 months, knowing how to continue to provide for ourselves gives me this great, warm feeling inside.
So, I'll let you know what I think of this book. It seems to be the small-scale farm version of his Four Season Harvest, which I really really love. Elliot Coleman has a respect for, and understanding of, the earth, its seasons, plants, and their needs. The kind of understanding that I'm eager to gain; first through study, and then through faith*.
(You know, I really should probably post a few book reviews of books I actually ready lately . . . like Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, Thy Gold to Refine, 12 Steps to Raw Foods, Signature Family Dishes, Kabul Beauty School, La Hacienda, or any of the fourteen Georgette Heyer novels I devoured during the first half of the year. Requests on which goes first welcome.)
*My definition of Faith: a belief which moves one to action, or the application of knowledge gained by teaching (as opposed to the knowledge gained by experience). Faith is work--the application of principles learned and the true test of a principles truthfulness or validity.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Lemme Hear Whoop! Whoop!
Google has delivered.
All y'all Mac users out there, go and try it out. Clean, light, and darn fast. And Google's home page logo today is a kick, to boot.
Have a great week!
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