Cautionary Tale

I really don't want to turn this into just a health blog; I like to explore ALL aspects of life as we know it on here, especially the annoying ones. ;o) However, as some of these important aspects of life are health issues, I'd like to share a cautionary tale.

I do this simply because I don't want others to go through what I have if there's a way to prevent it. And there is. Awareness is the key. So I give you one word: ALUMINUM.

I mentioned on my last blog that before I got celiac disease, I already had colitis. Symptoms of chronic illness can be so insidious, sometimes we really don't realize we're ill until those symptoms become debilitating. So it was with colitis. I knew something was wrong, but I just thought I needed to eat healthier, so I got the whole grain pastas, added veges to my diet, ate fish (tuna) regularly. Yet I still got sicker and sicker... no energy, gut pain, bleeding bowel... I won't get too graphic because if you want to know more about colitis you can always look it up. Suffice it to say I was suffering and wound up ass up in a little room in the hospital, somewhat drugged, a doctor coming at me with a hose-lookin' thing with a camera on the end of it. This is called a colonoscopy. Not fun... drugs notwithstanding. Through the haze of those lovely seditives I heard the doctor say, "colitis." Then he instructed the nurse to have me make an appointment for 3 weeks hence.

Three weeks to find out about this colitis thing... more than enough. The library books told me what the doctor would say and gave all kinds of case histories. A common thread ran through many of them. Aluminum.

After reading this, I looked at my pots, pans, utensils. I'd grown up with these. Mom gave them to me years ago when I left home and got herself new stuff. Aluminum. I looked at the colanders I used to drain my healthy pastas ~ both of them ~ aluminum.

Longer story short, I got rid of them and replaced them with stainless steel, enamel or glass. I started noticing all the consumables that come in aluminum and I stopped using them. I made dietary adjustments to accomodate my condition, including no dairy, white wheat, red meat and no more tuna (mercury). I got well. My colitis remained in remission until I got complacent and drank some iced tea out of cans. Lesson learned. (Canned beer, soda pop, teas and even the lining of some drinkin' boxes.. aluminum.)

Life is good with no gluten. Life is good with no aluminum. Even with all these dietary restrictions, there are still lots of foods left and I feel good. I can see the blue sky, feel the warm sun, smell the fragrant breezes, hear the rain on my deck, get annoyed with technology and its limitations (another blog.. again) and go shopafrolicking without worry! Yep, life is good.

Note: Everyone is different. You may have enjoyed your drinks from cans forever and feel no ill effect. I reached my saturation point for aluminum in my 40s. You may never do so. But know that you could and what it can do to you. Aluminum and consumables don't really mix well.

To follow me on Twitter: @Wendakai

Other health resources on twitter I suggest:

@Marielhemingway

@mercola

@MattinglyMD

@iHerb

Some of these folks are also on facebook.

It's Not About the Destination...

..it's about the journey. Today I embark on a search for alternative grains and other gluten-free foods I can have.

I already traded in my beloved lite Miracle Whip for gluten-free mayonaisse. (Kraft, do you make a gluten-free product??) And I found gluten-free dijon mustard in the same health-food aisle. Chic peas have become a big part of my life. Oh, the mighty chic pea. *bowing*

Of course, you may be saying to yourself, who cares? All I can tell you is that the doctor wasn't at all surprised by my gluten intolerance, and that's simply because he's encountering it with so many of his patients. Pay mind, readers ~ this may be a problem you'll need to be aware of in future. That might not be a gall stone causing your discomfort... might be gluten.

Todays' search will focus mostly on alternative grains. Specifically I'm hoping to find sorghum flour, amaranth, bean flour and/or oats that aren't contaminated with wheat. We'll see what I bring home. I really miss bread, rolls, biscuits, etc. While the brown rice pasta is delicious and the rice cakes are good, brown rice bread is yucky and cloying, even when toasted and toasted some more. I must find alternative flours, and while I'm out there, I must get some gluten-free baking powder.

Onward to the hunt. And then on to the kitchen experiments, with the guidance of others who've gone before. Later ~

Added several hours later:

Ok, here's how I did. As I suspected, I couldn't find these flours on my first lookabout, but what I did find was Bob's Red Mill mixes, some of them using the very flours I was looking for. I'm not really a "mix" kind of cook, but hey... gotta go with what's available and maybe this isn't a bad place to start.

So then, here was the opportunity to make something for supper besides the brown rice pasta with veges and some sort of dressing. Don't get me wrong... I love that. But EVERY night? Maybe not. So I went with the biscuit mix and the almond "meal/flour." I made half a recipe of the biscuits using part vege shortening and part roasted garlic olive oil and water. Those in the oven, I cut several slices of zucchini, dipped them in egg seasoned with salt and pepper, then the almond, and fried them in XV olive oil. In another small pan I put some mushrooms, chopped green onion and pieces of asparagus to saute. Then I poured the beaten egg leftover from dipping the zuc in with the veges. With some li'l tomatoes, this was my supper:

It was surprisingly good. Really the only complaint I had is that the biscuits took longer to bake than the pkg. directions indicated, so some of my zuc slices got a little mushy, and I like them firm. But that's easily adjusted another time.

You may have noticed that there's no meat included in any of my food posts. That's because before I got celiac disease, I already had colitis. So I was already on a special diet where I couldn't have any dairy, red meat, or white wheat. I did eat chicken, but now apparently that's no longer an option either. Basically then, there's 3 things I can eat: *veges, brown rice and the one animal product my body will still tolerate, eggs. So this is why I'm so anxious to discover some of these gluten-free grains. So far, so fun and interesting. ;o)

*Yes, I can also have fruit ~ I'm just far more likely to have it as a drink, rather than in solid form.

Note: if you're interested in more info on dietary issues, look for Chickie Pea's blog on Facebook called Eating for Autoimmune Health, and The Healthy Haven, by iHerb on wordpress.com, and nutritionevolution.net, all great nutrition resources. (I'd give you the links, but this thang won't copy and paste and they're rather long.)

Brain Farts and Gluten

So hubby and I went to town to pick up a few things. I was driving. We had to pick up the dog at the vet, which I forgot, but he reminded. He's much smaller now.. the dog that is. Nothing like a good grooming. But the one he got will have to do. ;o)

Anyway, hubby asked what was next when we got back into the car. I backed out of the spot and headed for the main intersection of town.

"The drugstore. Gotta get that caulking," I said.

I could feel him looking at me. "You mean, the hardware store?"

I started to laugh. "Well, yeah.. yeah... that would be the better place to get caulking," I agreed.

"Yer freakin' me out," he said, shaking his head.

I looked at him and smiled. "Hey, I stopped for the red light," I offered, pointing at the stop light.

After the hardware store, we headed to the local grocery store. I had been going to make hubby spaghetti, his fave. But while the day wasn't really, really hot, it had turned out very humid, and our teen wasn't going to be home for supper either, so I changed my mind. Since I hadn't taken anything out of the freezer, we needed to pick up something for hubby's meal. I would have something gluten-free.. or at least, so I thought.

When we got to the grocery store parking lot, he did up his window as if he was coming in with me. He never comes in with me. He hates shopping. I looked at him. "Coming in?" He nodded. "You just want to make sure you don't wind up with bananas for supper, don't you?" I asked a little accusingly.

"You bet I do," he replied, nodding again.

OK, so I'd had a series of brain farts, not to mention headaches, abdominal pain and bloating... again. I had been really ill before and discovered that wheat, and probably all gluten, were probably things I should no longer consume. I'd kept it really simple to start with and felt a lot better. But now something was fogging my brain and causing pain and discomfort again.

Turns out that gluten can be "hidden" in other food ingredients, such as malto dextrin, for instance. I got this book from the library called, "gluten-free girl," by Shauna James Ahern. Very enlightening. Seems that as I increased the number of foods in my "safe" diet, I've been ingesting gluten without even knowing it. Back to the drawing board, as it were. Or at least, to the health food section of local grocery stores for things like gluten-free mustard and mayo. Heh. Amazing.

There are recipes in this book too. Gonna try some. I think I've said it before: losing more foods seems terrible, but once you discover new foods and new taste sensations, it's not so bad. It's just going to take a little guidance from someone who's been there. :)

http://glutenfreegirlabout.blogspot.com/

Picture: Me, in a kitchen. How 'bout that.

Tornados and Trailers: What's Up With That?

Why is it tornados always find where the trailers are at?

Talk about getting a bunch of disaster scenerios overwith all at once! The day started out promising rain. Sure, a few sprinkles for the garden. But that just wasn't enough for Mother Nature. She started with a little rattle and roll as the earth moved. Some people felt it; some didn't. I didn't. (Did the earth move for you? Um.... no. *sniff*) A friend I talked to later didn't either. She was standing in a doorway in town chatting with someone when people from upstairs came running down exclaiming about an earthquake. Their apartment was shaking, they said. Friend said she thought they were nuts, but then others were carrying on too. Only one picture on my wall was crooked, and a cat might have done that. Oh well. Earthquakes are unusual hereabouts and this one was almost immediately tagged as a 5.5 quake with the epicenter in Ottawa.
And I missed it.

Then came the spectacular storm. This wasn't just rain. This was RAIN!! It poured down so hard it was difficult to see more than a couple feet out the window. The thunder and lightening was sincere, to say the least. It hadn't seemed particularly windy, but when I went out later to do an errand I noticed debris under big trees and on the side of roads, badly rutted driveways and road shoulders, etc. The driveway of the home I was going to was rutted and beat up and when the homeowner came to the door, he said they were dealing with a flooded basement.
Ow.
Turned out he wasn't alone. The storm caused all kinds of flooding, and rumour has it that lightening started a fire in a factory on the highway. (Unconfirmed.) It also spawned a tornado. They aren't usual here either. In the paper, this was called a "suspected tornado" and was later confirmed as an F2 twister.

I had gone out to do the errand after the storm, because the power was out at home. This is NOT unusual in this area. Turned out about 8,000 residents had no power after the tornado hit. It took out.. yes.. of course... a trailer camp, along with several businesses, either flattening them or knocking down walls. It had touched down in some farm fields before hitting town leaving a lot of damage in its wake.

It's AMAZING that no one was killed. It was after hours, so some of the businesses hit were locked up for the day. The factory that lost two of its walls had a shift working, but somehow they all got out in good shape. Several people were taken to hospital by ambulance with injuries, but none, it turns out, were very serious. There's a lot of damage though, and a lot of cleaning up to be done. The town in question is officially a disaster zone which frees up public funding for the clean up, so that will help.

Tornados and trailers. Do you ever wonder just what that's about? Disasters.. all at once. Now I wonder about that too.

Arma~~geddon~~ carry me ho~o~ome~~~

Summer... officially.

Mosquitoes don't know when the seasons officially change, but I do. So, mosquito bites and all, we celebrated the Summer Solstice appropriately, with a power outage that forced us to light all kinds of candles and lamps on the longest day of the year. Nice. :)

This is really a strange place to live when it comes to extreme seasons. Winters look like this. It's ok if you enjoy winter sports like skiing, snowboarding, etc. ~ in fact, this is the place for it ~ but I don't. I just never got into it when I was younger because I lived in the city. Skis and subway trains just don't go together. I tried cross-country skiing when I moved here and wound up doing the hills on my bum. Oh, I was fine on flat terrain, but gimme a hill and.... It wasn't cool. It was COLD. Hubby still laughs about it. So now you'll find me by the fire, waving at the crazies who think landing face down, or bum down, in the snow is fun.

And Summer! Ok, it's the gardening season, but it's also the season of heat and humidity made to melt even the coolest jock. Sure, fresh fruit and vege season, but while fruit can go in the freezer, cucumbers can't, and it's a heck of a time to be standing over boiling brine to make pickles. Gotta be done though. I make about 100 jars of dills alone. And yes, they get eaten.

Canadians complain about the weather a lot. There's a reason for that: winter really is too cold and summer really is too hot. Still, summer is the season for barbequing, and enjoying the lakes, and that saves it. I'm pretty sure there are worse places to live. ;o)

To All The Dads I've Loved

Ok, so for one day I won't be such a cranky ol' broad. Don't worry, it's temporary. ;o)

My Dad has been gone over 30 yrs. now. He was a WWII vet; was part of the Canadian invasion forces at Sicily. He didn't want to carry a gun, so he served in the medical corp as an ambulance driver and orderly, then he transferred to a transportation unit, riding point on a motorcycle for convoys much of the time.

He was a great guy and a good dad. I miss him.

This is my child's dad, and as old-fashioned as it may seem, he is also my hubby. :) He's a good guy too. Took him to the races for Father's Day. We didn't lose much. Hey, it's actually a relatively cheap evenings' entertainment when you just do the $2. bets. The sky got very angry at one point ~ very stormy lookin'. But it only rained enough to dampen down the dusty track, and the sky was kind of amazing, so it was all good.

No Time ~ No Time

Probably prophetic. Why is it that, though we're all headed for the same sticky end, most of us are doing it at a dead run? Curious.

Like Mr. Entitled at the grocery store, who sidled up to a U-scan already in use, crowding the poor man trying to finish his order, and ignoring me, large as life, standing there in line like a good little shopper. "Excuse me," I said. He condescended to glance my way. "I'm not waiting for a bus here," I said. He seemed perplexed, so I pointed to the words on the floor in front of me that said, "line up here." He looked at the words on the floor, then at me, then back at the words... and slowly, ever so slowly, he got it. Where do they come from?

Then there's the guy in the big pickup truck who pulled into the parking lot as my daughter was almost finished backing out of a space. He couldn't wait for her to put it in Drive and turn the wheel to get out of his way. No, he sque e e e e zed his oversized vehicle past her, because HE was using the world that day. And where did it get him? I think you know.

Yeah, yeah ~ no time ~ no time.

Thing is, while we're rushing around, I just can't help notice that pesky oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, the weather anomolies, the holy wars, a society that thinks the word "fuck" is just about the most fun, colourful and expressive word in the English language, and the plague of locusts? Try bed bugs. No, I'm not kidding. Wish I was. But there's a strain of bed bug come to us from Afghanistan that's pesticide-resistant and has invaded hotels, and spread to apartment buildings and on to homes. Great. Wonderful. And close enough for my money.

Yeah, I know there are people out there doing good things, trying really hard to make this world a better place. And I support them. Moreover, I'm counting my blessings, believe me. I have a lovely little home, healthy food, a bountiful garden, health that isn't too bad, fun and beautiful music and art, the love of family and friends. (And no bed bugs yet.) What do I need in a world that wants MORE? Not a damned thing. So I'm just here with my meandering thoughts and words, trying to ponder the questions, never mind the answers, watching the world rush.... to... where? Ah, but I'm sure it will all be fine. Afterall, what the fuck do I know? *sigh*

Victory Garden?

During WWII there was a food shortage, which made it difficult to put food on the table for the family. One solution was the victory garden where household after household dug up that lawn and grew carrots for the night-fighters... um.. no, I mean veggies for the family. (Containers work too.)

There are compelling reasons why victory gardens are being encouraged again now, not the least of which is economic downturn, crop failure, weather anomolies, etc. Michelle Obama is showing people how by growing a vege garden at the white house and involving her kids in the process. Ellen DeGeneres has put in her oar by having garden people on her show to demonstrate, and by starting her own.. she says. ;o)

The city of San Francisco has a Victory Garden program begun in 2008 to "support the transition of backyard, front yard, window boxes, roof tops, and unused land into organic food production.."

I enjoy gardening. I grow veges, as well as plants to attract butterflies and bees, etc. (If you attract the bees, they will help your vege garden.) Thing is, I love veges. Yes.. no kidding ~ I actually EAT them. I think they're YUMMY. Back in the day people thought of veges as good food too. Yet, these days I have a suspicion that there'd be more victory gardens in North America if one could grow ... you know... take out burgers and fries?

Here is my chicken nugget bush... lots of fat here. They're under the daisies there, near the toadstool where the fae people gather at midnight.

These plants grow fries, but you have to look carefully under the leaves. They're in the dirt... I know.. ick. But really, all you have to do is wash 'em, then add lots of fat and table salt to increase blood pressure and heart disease. Easy.

Yep ~ gardening... good stuff.

Telewhoo??

This is a cell phone, something I swore I'd never own. Ok so, this is MY cell phone. Not my fault, hubby gave it to me. It's frustrating. The buttons on it are very small and my fingers not so nimble anymore. I have to use the loudspeaker on it because I'm liable to turn it off if I try to hold it to my ear. Thing is, the loudspeaker button is right next to the terminate call button. Yes, I've hung up on people, even when I didn't mean to. *sigh*

Funnier thing is, younger people don't like to use this. My land line is often tied up.. one thing and another. I have an answering service, but the most frequent message is the sound of someone hanging up. So I give my cell number and suggest they try it. Afterall, the cell phone is usually sitting right next to the other one anyway. But they don't like using it. Hmmm.... they won't leave a message, and they don't like using the cell. Why were these things invented again??

I'm more used to this kind of phone.

Only the one I grew up with was made of metal and could double as a paper-weight or doorstop.

Recently I saw one of these dinosaurs in a historical display and the kid standing next to me said, "wow, how does that thing work?" Made me feel better, for a minute. Then I realized he'd NEVER seen a rotary phone and I just felt old.

"You stick your finger in a number hole and turn the dial," I said.

"Weird," he said, rather neatly summing up the entire telecom system, past and present, and the people who sail on her.

I'm going to get a drum. I'm debating whether or not the learn Morse Code. I think I'll just beat the crap out of it and trust that people will understand.

Aahhh Summer

Oh how we wish for the warmth of summer during those biting winter days when the ground crunches underfoot and spit freezes before it hits the ground. We forget the downside of summer during winter, don't we? The sweat gathering into pools on our brow when we do... anything. The buzzing in the air ~ buzzing that has nothing to do with the FIFA World Cup. Speaking of biting...

Sweaty work done one day, I went to have my shower. Standing naked in the bathroom, suddenly I heard this wee, tiny, yet audible voice shout, "LUNCH!" I looked around and..

.. there it was. I waved wildly at it. It jittered out of my way and I swear it waved back. I never got it, but it got me ~ several times. *sigh*

In Canada, mosquitoes are little more than an annoyance, resulting in little bumps and itches, with only the small threat of West Nile virus or allergic reaction. In other parts of the world, mosquitoes spread life-threatening disease. Spread the Net may still be raising funds for bed nets where you are, or Unicef Canada includes a bed net for only $10.00 in its Gifts of Magic at http://www.shopunicef.ca/

Attention

Spans! Well, I'm told I had to get your attention in the first 20 seconds of my blog. *sigh* So close. ;o)

This is my cat. She is making love to hubby's backpack. She kept this up for at least 3 minutes. I don't know if he'd had it sitting in catnip or what, but that's longer than a sound byte AND a tweet. This means she has a superior attention span.

I wonder if there's a cat prize for that. Or maybe I should just have her run for some sort of political office.

Thing is, what if she wins?

Conventional Wisdom and Changes

When I was growing up, someone in power had the notion that girls did certain things, and boys did certain things, and nobody should mix that up. For instance, girls could not take shop in Jr. high school, and boys could not take home economics. This seemed strange to me, since my great, grand aunt was a cabinet maker and most of the world's great chefs were men. Nevertheless, this was the conventional wisdom of the day. I'm glad to see this ... well, I was going to say "has changed," but that sounds finished, so I'll say, is changing. Well, at least, in some parts of the world.

It seems to me that "conventional wisdom" is seldom wise, and really only conventional to the unimaginative mind, or the mind crippled by dogma. Yet it seems we are all, at some point in our lives, limited in possibility by someone else's conventional wisdom.

There is much talk these days about Dec. 21, 2012 and how this date portends the end of the world ~ as we know it. Ah... there's the rub: as we know it. This puts me in mind of the Death card in Tarot. It is unlikely that this card foretells the actual death of anyone. More likely it speaks silently to the death of an idea, a conviction, a lifestyle... you get it. It means change. Probably profound change. Sometimes change is good. Sometimes it isn't. Most often it's both, since in our world, there are pros and cons to pretty much everything. Like when I discovered that there are even more limitations to my diet, I thought, "oh no, this is going to be awful." But it hasn't been awful at all. At worst, it's been challenging, and I'm having fun discovering alternative foods that are far more delicious and satisfying than the foods I ate before. I had been eating the foods of conventional wisdom. They were making me very ill. I feel a lot better.

Which is all to say, limitations can be bad. Limitations can be good. Change can be bad and change can be good. Do not fear change. Be ready.

FIFA... World Cup Soccer

I've never been a fan of soccer, but I figure, if I want to get with it, I better get with it. So I'm going to give it a look-see. Afterall, I like baseball. I don't mind football. And I can tolerate hockey ~ at least, during the playoffs ~ sometimes. ;o) So how bad can soccer be? Sure is a lot of excitement! What flag should I get?? (My country isn't in it.) Or should I just cheer always for the underdog, whoever that is?? Yeah. That sounds fine. Um... what role does that swarm of bees play, exactly? That.... is.... b.... what is that?

Charming... I'm Told I'm Charming

Now, perdiful flowers, they're charming.
I guess old people can be charming too ~ sometimes. And it's true.. I'm gettin' there, but I'm not ready for "charming." What springs to mind is Bette Davis on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. (Told ya I'm gettin' there.) She was his guest and he mentioned that another guest hadn't shown up. She said, "you mean, they didn't even call?" He shook his head. She said,

"cha-a-a-a-r-r-r-ming."


I have oft repeated her. Like the other night, when I went to pick up my daughter at her friend's house. There was another car in the drive. I had no way of knowing what this person wanted to do, but when her back-up lights went on, I figured she wanted out, so I got out of her way. Her way of thanking me was to flip me off once she was most of the way down the drive.

Cha-a-a-r-r-rming.

So, see, I wasn't going for charming. I must have wandered into charming territory by mistake. I'm really just trying to learn new things here and shake my brain awake after years of disuse. So hey, let's look at the news:

Now, this young woman invited some neighbours to stay with her after they were burned out of their apt., in the same building. She also gave them her sub sandwich (which she's allowed to have) at the Subway store where she worked. For this kindness, she was summarily fired. Yes, this is the world we live in: no good deed goes unpunished.


Cha-a-a-a-r-r-rming.


You won't catch me inside a Subway restaurant. Why? Because this is the only way to empower ourselves in our world. You don't like a company? Don't give them your money. Don't like that politician? So vote for someone else, or spoil your ballot if there's no one on there you do like. Otherwise, look to be bitch-slapped for doing a kindness... or for nothing at all.

Yeah ~ cha-a-a-a-a-r-r-rming.

I'm Not Real ~ Really!

Nope, I'm not REAL. I'm a cyber-person. I'm so blurry in this picture because I'm just a disembodied voice coming to you from out of the cyber-wilderness. I don't hang out at the mall, or the local Tim Horton's, like REAL people do.

I'm really just a mere figment of the imagination of a Canadian singer/songwriter who shall remain nameless, but who lives in Calgary, a city divided into quadrants so they can use the same street names four times instead of coming up with fresh ones. Hehe. My neice lives there. She's not a cyber person, so she must be REAL. I hope so, because she just had a baby. :) But I digress, and goodness knows, that hardly ever happens. ;o)

This is the baby. She's REAL. :)

This is part of my garden. Only the birds tweet here, so it must be REAL too. This is the memorial garden for my folks. Dad made the saw horse. It was slowly rotting at Mom's for 30 years. Figured the new home-owner would just throw it out, so I brought it to my garden to finish composting into the earth. It's surrounded by Mom's faves: coleus, geraniums with spikes and dusty miller, orange roses. Mom passed in 2008. Inukshuk says, people were here. What does it know? It's just a pile of rocks. Is that REAL?

I like to keep those salad greens handy. Love salad! It's REAL too.

Gardens aren't portable at all. I could go to town and even take my computer with me.. even to the Tim Horton's and sit with REAL people and be an invisible cyber person both at the same time. Ooo. But the garden has to be worked on right here, and that's more satisfying. The garlic is 3 feet tall, onion and beans up, potatoes bushy.. flowers are many, even milk weed, which Monarch butterflies love to lay eggs on is allowed to grow here.. in moderation.. along with mullein and many herbs, both wild and domestic, and of course, veges. Now a garden with earth, worms, butterflies, birds that tweet in their own way, and plants... that's REAL life.

Cyber people though, we're all just figments of someone's imagination. 'least, that's what I hear. Really. ;o)

On Cats, a Barking Dog, a Bear, and a Neighbour Named Louise

When my daughter was about eight, she wanted a pet... preferably, a dog. But no way. Dogs can be a lot of work and I knew who would get stuck with it. I bought her a beta fish. Actually I recommend this as a starting point for any little kid, because you know what's going to happen to the fish, right? It's an easy first dealing with the concept of death. Much easier than a relative, for instance.

Thing is, with a fish, it's inevitably not long between first pet and first experience with death, then the kid wants another pet, only not a fish. And from my point of view, nope.. no snake; sorry, no monkey; nope, no lizard either. *sigh* (A dog is starting to look good.) But nope, no dog. A cat. Yep. Now, dog-lovers always complain that cats are independent as if this is a bad thing. But to me, not. You show a kitten where the litter box is and they're trained. You play with them to use up their kitten energy and they don't climb the curtains. And then they're cats. They can take care of themselves, thanks. They're affectionate, but they aren't really needy and don't overdo the lovey-dovey stuff. This works for me.

I have a brother who insists, "you can't trust a cat!" even though he's never really known one. But then, he fancies himself a big expert on a lot of things he knows nothing about. And he's something of a control freak who likes to be the "master" of his dog. I'm just not sure how this works when it isn't the dog who carries around plastic bags to pick up his poop.

Anyway, we wound up with two cats, but since the kid wouldn't let the dog thing go, we eventually wound up with one of those too. *sigh* Fast forward to yesterday. We saw a bear. Hubby and I were sitting at the table and suddenly he pointed out the window and said, "there's a bear." I thought he was kidding, but I looked. (I always look.) And sure enough, there was a big, black bear ambling up the road across from our house. We got up from the table, our daughter came out of her room and we all went to the door. Hubby went out onto the deck because the neighbours across the road were outside and he wasn't sure they'd seen the bear, but they had. Louise was already on the phone reporting the bear... to someone.

My cats were outside, so I called to them, quietly. The dog had started barking his ass off in the doorway though, so my volume was neither here nor there. The bear looked up. He started trotting, I called the cats again, the dog kept barking, the bear started running ~ across the next door neighbours' front yard and into the bush. One cat had seen the bear and came running in, her hackles raised and her tail three times its normal size. The other cat was still sitting at the end of the wood pile, looking at me as if to say, "what's all the fuss?" Silly cat. Hubby nabbed her a brought her in.

After a bit, Louise went walking up the road, phone in hand. The little blonde girl from up the road was with her. Louise was plainly walking the girl home to make sure she got there safely. We watched Louise walk back on her own. Hubby was impressed with her bravery, but if I had to bet on Louise or the bear, I'd put my money on Louise. Oh, she's a nice lady and a good neighbour, but you don't wanna mess with Louise. Not even if you're a bear.

Pictures: Barky dog. And silly cat, restful moment. Sorry, no pic of bear. Man and kid were reaching for cameras, but I was calling, dog was barking, bears move with deceptive speed.

NEVER Tell Mom She Makes Excuses

At least, this is what I tried to convey to Dr. Oz in a most ineloquent series of tweets that he probably didn't even read. But I think it bears repeating here.

On his TV show ~ you know, the one where we're all gonna die from some bacterium, spider, snake, mold, bee, food poisoning... even before our obesity/hypertension/diabetes gets us, he told a mom that she was making excuses because she didn't exercise enough. Heh. Dr. Twit.

OK, to give the guy a break, it wasn't his assertion at first. The poor mom appeared on this episode with her skinny, unmarried, childless sister. Skinny sister said fat sister ~ the mom ~ was making excuses for not going for long walks. Skinny sister said, "I have a busy lifestyle too." Right. I wonder how somebody with so little grasp on reality keeps so busy. No, it's ok, I really don't want to know.

Clearly no one has ever pointed out to Ms. Busy Lifestyle that she also has options that Mom doesn't have. If she decides to put off doing the dishes to go for that walk, who's to say she oughtn't? I mean, that glass, plate and fork could sit in the sink for days, right? Ooo.. ok, two plates, and a knife too. Mom doesn't have that option. Her sink is full of dishes, especially glasses, because every time a member of her family hydrates, they take a fresh glass out of the cupboard. Then there's the mess on the counter, including the ketchup and mayo sitting out, because while the family knows where to find the condiments for that little snack, they can't remember where they go when it comes to putting them away. Mom ~ the house elf ~ she'll do it. And Mom doesn't just have a soiled sweater and a couple panties to launder, there's four loads of laundry piled up there. Even if she figures she'll just do one load and go for that healthy walk, there she goes sticking her hand into Jr.'s jacket pocket to make sure there's no tissue in there before putting it in the washer ~ only to discover a pocket fulla now-dead worms. Great. Jr. has discovered worms in the back yard. I know... eeewww. Just so.

Moms get these surprises all the time. And they have to be dealt with RIGHT NOW. Plan our days??? Yer kiddin', right? Oh, I make a list every evening for the next day. It's not so much a list of things that have to be done, as sort of a "wish list." They're the things I really should get done, but I know full well the day will come with untidy surprises, pulling me away from any actual PLANS I may have had. Wanna make God laugh? Make plans. Yep.

On top of the usual chores a mom has to perform, there's the four messy surprises, three different meals for the fam, two doggy doos, and a partridge in a pear tree. Sure, I'll make time for that healthy walk, right after I have high tea with the Queen. We'll take a little jaunt out to the paddock to see all the royal ponies, say what? Oh yes, we'll bring the Corgis along to give them some exercise too.

Figure it out, Ms. Busy Lifestyle and Dr. Mehmet Oz, if Moms had time to look after themselves the way they should ~ the way they'd no doubt like to ~ there wouldn't be so many fat, tired, exasperated Moms out there trying to figure out how to stick around for Jr.'s graduation and Princess's career, in the face of being slowly done in by not-so-benign neglect. Here's an idea: instead of telling mom she's making excuses and adding to her burdens, why not help her devise a plan where she can find some time for herself? Convince the family to help out by putting the damned ketchup away, using a glass twice (despite the deadly threat of some bacteria), putting the wildlife into a jar to study, instead of into our pockets, putting their laundry in the laundry bin, etc. Heh. "I have a busy lifestyle too." Yeah, right. And I have flowers growing out my....

Random Thoughts on Fame

Do you remember a few years ago when it came out, rather belatedly if you don't mind my saying, that it was actually gin in Sir John A. MacDonald's glass during parialmentary sessions, not water as people were supposed to believe? I do. And I remember thinking at the time that it really doesn't matter what's in my glass, because 50 years from now, nobody's going to know the difference. Hell, 3 years from now it's not exactly going to hit the headlines. Or next week, either.

This is liberating. It's liberating because while Big Brother might be watching, he's not paying much attention to me. Why would he? I'm nobody. I'm just here, doing my thing... la de da. :) I feel kinda bad for people who work so very hard for fame, only to have to wear disguises so they aren't recognized when they go out. Sure, people recognize me in town, but they only smile. Even at the community market where people see me and ask where they can get my jam, such a minor kind of fame doesn't exactly place me in danger of being swarmed by paparazzi. Liberating. Why I can even write pretty much anything I want on here... mwahahaha. Who's to know? ;o) This is genuine freedom.

Sometimes it's kinda funny where you see people who used to be famous. I say "used to" because after a long absence from the public eye there's liable to be a whole generation of people who don't know or care who you are. Take Mr. Zulu, for example. There he is doing high definition colour technology tv ads on ... yeah... tv. My daughter doesn't like this guy because of his evil laugh at the fact that our tv (and presumably many others) has only 3-colour technology. (Seems ok to me.) "He's just trying to make you want something you don't need," I tell her, adding, "that's Mr. Zulu." "Who's that?" she replies. Right. So I guess Mr. Zulu can go to the Seven/Eleven after hours without worrying about being recognized by the zitty youngster behind the counter. How liberating. Then there's Bonnie Hunt, who is famous, but for some reason can't get the paparazzi to follow her anywhere. Heh. Good for you, Bonnie! Bonnie Hunt, Mr. Zulu and me. Beam us up, Scotty.

Picture: Me, hiding behind a plant so the paparazzi don't see me. Bonnie Hunt and Mr. Zulu are back here with me. We're drinking gin.

Hello?

Telemarketers. Ok, I do feel bad for them. From the thick accents comin' out of the phone, they're either calling from another country or they're recent immigrants. Sure, last month a brain surgeon in the old country, this month attached to a phone set trying to communicate with people who usually wind up hanging up on you. Can't be fun, and so much for the better life you were promised.

Nevertheless, from the householder point of view, there I am with my hands in dishwater, the timer on the stove is beeping, the dog is barking to go out, hubby is yelling, "do you know where my orange socks are?" and the phone rings. I grab a towel to stop dishwater from running into my armpit and grab the phone, because at least it forestalls that other stuff for a minute. But alas, it's not the lottery corp. calling to tell me a mistake was made in the last draw and it turns out I've won $10 million!! Heh... it's a telemarketer.. one who's talking so fast and in such a thick accent that I can't even begin to understand why it is they're calling, much less what they're wanting to sell me. Sure, I've got time for this ~ not.

In the last year, I have listened to a few of these callers though... at least the ones I could understand. The others I just said, "no time for this," and hung up. Sorry. That timer is still beeping, the smell of something burning is wafting toward the smoke alarm, the dog is now gnawing on my pant leg, and hubby.... oy.

One I did talk to was TVO. Ok, I sympathize and yes, I supported them in the past, but I've moved on. Nobody can do it all. Well, at least, I can't, unless the lottery corp. really does call with good news. Another was a dept. store with a special offer. I bit, on the assurance I could cancel anytime, which I wound up doing, simply because it turned out there was no way to turn their very special offer to my advantage. Seems it was just a clever way for them to get more of my money. Heh. Imagine that. What a surprise! The third was a well-known telecommunications company offering me a free device to hook up to my computer to get high-speed internet. I could try it out for a couple of months, he said.

Well, that sounded promising, so I said sure. Next thing you know, he's talking about how I have to sign a 3-year contract for this thing or pay for it. Um.... wait... how is that "free?" And how is that being allowed to try it out? Didn't take long to terminate that call. Whadda con.

The net result is that I hang up on telemarketers. Sure, I feel bad for you, but I'm just not going to struggle with your thick accent, or try to fathom how many different ways you're trying to con me and, until the lottery corp. calls with good news, my few disposable dollars are very carefully handed out.. to organizations that don't call on the phone. So forget it. No contract; no credit card number; no thanks. Sorry.

Inspirational Message Service

I was thinking of starting an inspirational message service. I'd call it, TheDailyPokeintheEye. My messages would offer up some terribly pithy and painful pseudo wisdom designed to enlighten you about your own glaring shortcomings, and if you protest, I'd simply justify my message by saying I'm being "vulnerable." C'mon now, wouldn't it be useful to know what's wrong with you? And certainly I'm the one to tell you, even though I may not know you from Mr. or Ms. Potato Head. Just for excitement I might also toss in some handy psychobabble explaining in appropriately negative and accusatory terms that you're so very needy because, though your mirror is broken, your image doesn't change. Doesn't that sound like fun?! Oh wait.... rats! It's already been done. Missed the boat again.

Quilling Art

Quilling, or the art of paper filigree, is the creation of designs using narrow strips of paper that have been rolled, shaped and arranged to form art designs.

This is just a teaser though. For more pics and info on quilling art, please see the special page dedicated to this. :0)

Wha??

Irony. Yep, life as I know it. Like how the biggest dust bunnies in the house gather 'round the vacuum cleaner. There's also the memory thing. So embarrassing to be standing in the middle of a grocery store trying to remember why I left the house. Sure, I make a list, but then I forget it. {sigh} And no, that's right, Ginko doesn't actually help that much when you're terminally distracted. Ginko helps circulation. Memory? Heh.

So yesterday, there I am, in the utility room, standing in front of the beer fridge kept in there, not knowing why. I knew I went in there for something, and that something must be in the fridge, because I was standing in front of it. It's the overflow fridge because the little one in the kitchen frequently doesn't hold everything I need it to hold. It's little because the kitchen is little. That got me thinking about fridges, and how mine was probably designed by the same jerk who designed the over-sized shopping carts at Real Canadian Super Store that get stuck together all the time, and the parking system at the local hospital ~ which sucks.

The cheese/butter keeper in the kitchen fridge has a clear plastic door that opens from the bottom. This means that it likes to pop open when you open the fridge door, the contents flying out onto the floor. For the first month I owned this fridge, my main exercise was bending to pick up cheese slices and butter whilst swearing so as to make a sailor blush. They say correct breathing is important in exercise.

I just think that straight men should not be allowed to design bras (underwires??), refrigerators, shopping carts, or parking systems. Nevermind disillusioning me. I need to believe this for my sanity.

But I digress, which is exactly what happened all the time I was stubbornly standing in front of the beer fridge in the utility room. All this and more passed thru my poor brain, even as I wondered why I went in there. Then I remembered. I wanted an egg. Hehe... an egg. So I opened the fridge door and, as if bidden by the unseen hand of Murphy, an egg fell out. But the joke is on Murphy. It was a hard-boiled egg. Heh. I was gonna crack it anyway.

Jimmy Wayne, Walk with Wings

Ok, so satire aside for a moment, I wrote the lyrics below with Jimmy Wayne in mind. Jimmy is walking across the American south to bring attention to the plight of homeless youth who've aged out of the foster system. His journey is called "Meet Me Halfway" and it inspired my lyrics. Alas, he's quite capable of writing his own. I've been sharing these anyway and some young, aspiring musicians are putting them to music to "make a beautiful song." Hope you enjoy them too. If you aren't already supporting Jimmy, please check him out.

http://tinyurl.com/2dtbvzg

We have empathy for Jimmy's efforts because my husband was raised in the foster care system in Ontario, Canada. He and his next older brother had everything they needed, except love, encouragement and opportunity. They were used as servants in their foster home, but weren't taught how to use a lawn mower, much less drive a car, so their skills were minimal. College was an unreachable dream in their youth. My husband left his foster home at 17, but only because his brother already had a factory job and had bought a house. He was lucky, and he knows it. If not for his brother, he doesn't know where he would have gone. They were both still kids, thrust into the world to manage the best they could, though unprepared on so many levels. Their foster "mom" even charged them for their much-used beds when they left.

However, while we passionately empathize with Jimmy's cause, we will not send money. We have sent money to Haiti and Zimbabwe, to our Plan foster child, and we support Free the Children, Unicef and War Amps as well. But we will not send my husband's hard-earned Canadian dollars to the U.S. to change their antiquated and unjust laws. This is something that Americans will have to do themselves. So, Americans! Heads up! Check out Jimmy Wayne, MMH.

If They Only Had Wings

If she only had wings she could fly outta here.
Nevermind the pouring rain, her empty stomach or her fear.
Shivering in the darkness though the others are near,
She just wants wings ~ she just wants wings.

If he only had a chance, he'd fly right outta here.
In the shelter of this bridge, his dreams seem very clear.
Food from a garbage can, some change ~ he's in the clear,
If he just had wings ~ if he only had wings.

If they only had wings, this time they could fly.
If they just had wings, tell the misery goodbye.
Running again from pain and fear ~ no need to cry ~ don't cry
If they just had wings ~ if they only had wings.

They gaze up to the angry sky and huddle against the rain.
He still has some fading hope, despite the burning pain.
They could be stars or artists ~ could find their way to fame.,
If they just had wings ~ if they only had wings.

Rising in the shivering dawn, they know they have to move.
They wander up the dirty streets trying to find some food.
She is chilled right to the bone; he is needing better shoes
If they just had wings ~ if they only had wings.

If they only had wings, this time they could fly.
If they just had wings, tell the misery goodbye.
Running again from pain and fear ~ no need to cry ~ don't cry
If they just had wings ~ If they only had wings ~

If they only just had wings.

NOTE: Date showing on post is date of this blog. Song lyrics written by Wendakai in April 2010, dated appropriately on personal blog and on paper sent by registered mail to self, unopened. Permissions were granted to some young musicians to make a song. Lyrics written for Jimmy Wayne for lyricist credit only. Permissions required for anyone else. Hope this clears up any questions.

Wendakai, June 18, 2010