EMBRACING THE CHANGE

At first blush, the title of the book "The Wisdom of Menopause", seems a bit of an oxymoron...

I mean, traditionally, one associates "menopause" with only icky things like searing, sweaty hot flashes, rollercoaster mood swings, and aging, adle-brained crones with black, coarse chin whiskers that would make a broom envious...i.e, anything BUT wisdom.

Au contraire!

Thanks to my friend Nancy and her wise choice to read "The Wisdom of Menopause", and her generous offer to loan me the groundbreaking classic, I am learning that, according to author Christiane Northrup, M.D., the infamous "change" that we women often dread and fear is not merely a plethora of perplexing physical symptoms to be "fixed" but (and I quote from the back cover), "a mind-body revolution that brings the greatest opportunity for growth since adolescence."

(Ah, yes, adolescence...a positively riveting -- not to mention hormonally and emotionally devastating -- time in a young girl's life... but I digress...)

According to the good doc, the choices a woman makes NOW -- from the quality of her relationships to the quality of her diet -- have the power to secure vibrant health and well-being for the rest of her life.

(Yikes! Relationships and diet...not exactly my strong suits thus far...)

Yes, Dr. Northrup maintains that women can "make menopause a time of personal empowerment and positive energy, and emerge wiser, healthier and stronger in both mind and body than ever before."

What the heck...I'm totally in.

I swear I am going to read this book cover to cover, and soak up every bit of menopausal insight I can...

For starters, I'm absolutely inspired and energized just by the book's dedication: "This book is dedicated to the pioneering spirit embodied in the women of the baby boom generation."

Amen to that, sisters! Right on!

And the first chapter, "Menopause Puts Your Life Under A Microscope" is a real eye-opener. From there, the book covers everything from "Embracing the Message of our Menopausal Anger" (Angry? Who? Me? Surely, you jest...) and "The Menopause Food Plan: A Program to Balance Your Hormones and Prevent Middle-Age Spread" to "Testosterone: The Hormone of Desire?" and "Nurturing Your Brain: Sleep, Depression and Memory"

I really think this book will be life-changing...if only I could stay awake long enough after supper to read more than a dozen pages at a time...and if I could just remember where I put my glasses...

I wonder if there's a chapter addressing women who wake up every morning about 2 a.m., wide awake and rarin' to go, and blog till 3 a.m. -- and then can't wake up to save their souls when it's time to get ready for work...

The good news is, it's SATURDAY! Yay! I don't have to go to work! Instead, I'll be having coffee and a homemade sweet roll at In The Dough with my friend Nancy...

What's that, Dr. Northrup? Read page 220, "How To Quell Your Sugar Cravings"? Oh. And Page 316? Avoid caffeine?

Heavy sigh.

And so the journey to physical and emotional health during "The Change" begins.

Stay tuned.

WHAT A GIRL WANTS, WHAT A GIRL NEEDS...

...is rarely what a girl gets...

Unless of course, you happen to love coon huntin' and are married to/involved with/in a committed relationship with an avid coon hunter(which, fortunately, I do not and am not, respectively)...

But if you and/or your significant other DO happen to love huntin' them cute and furry little four-footed apple polishers, well, then have I got a great little catalogue for you...I mean it is chock full of perfect Christmas gift ideas for the hard-to-shop for coon huntin' enthusiast and/or his woman.

It's the Holiday 2007 NiteLite Master Catalogue. And I am not sure how one arrived at our house addressed to my husband, but it's excellent fodder for a Saturday a.m. blog...

I mean, forget Victoria's Secret, ladies and gents...

(From here on in, it's best if you read the following lingerie descriptions, etc., outloud with your best Jeff Foxworthy/redneck Batavia, OH (or better yet, Mt. Orab) twang, to get the full, comedic effect...my editorial comments, of course, will be in italics and parenthesis.)

Ready...get your twang set...go...

This holiday season, why not surprise the little woman with a hot number from the NiteLite Cabin Fever Collection...

(And I quote) "Our Cabin Fever Collection items are made of comfortable 5 oz. microdenier polyester. The tops feature exceptional comfort and durability, while the pants feature front pockets (pockets? in lingerie? for what? her extra ammo?), elastic waist and matching drawstring...Drinking a cup of coffee or reading the newspaper takes on new meaning when Cabin Fever's collection is your attire (I'll bet...). Available in Break-Up, Max-4 and Blaze Camo. (Decisions, decisions...)

(Speaking of camo...)

Camo Panties

Ideal for any lady who needs to get her man's attention during hunting season (but won't she just blend in with the scenery?? ) 100% cotton bikini-cut panties come in Realtree Advantage (whatever that means...) $9.99

(And now, my personal favorite...)

Coon Panties

A very unique gift idea for the coonhunter's special lady. (I should say!) These bikini-cut panties are available in white. (with a big ol' bushy racoon tail stamped on the rear, dont'cha know...) All sales final. $9.99 (LOL...I can hear it now...Sorry, Becky Jo, but I just can't take 'em back, girl...)

(And, here's a smokin' hot -- and affordably priced -- gift idea for the guys...)

Men's Glow-In-The-Dark Coon Boxers

These boxers were designed exclusively for NiteLite's coonhunters (well, who the hell else would wear them?)...Imagine the look you will receive when you flash the coon's glow-in-the-dark eyes...(yes...just imagine...) $9.99

LOLOLOLOLOL....

Oh, dear...

I could go on...I mean there's the Mossy Oak Break-Up Camo Swimwear, "both sexy and classy; stylish, yet functional"...Or, for your coon huntin' kids...the Kitten KoonerII -- a rechargable hunting light that weighs under 3 pounds...or if you've got some cold hard cash burnin' a hole in your holiday pocket, there's the "Tree My Dog" clock sporting -- as one might suppose -- a walker hound with a treed raccoon. The alarm sounds off with coon hounds barking, hot on the trail, followed by coon squalls. Push the snooze button, and end the hunt with a gunshot...(what will they think of next?) Only $39.99.

But I've got a house to clean this afternoon, and my son is playing a Munchkin farmer in our high school's musical production of "The Wizard of Oz" this evening...

Gotta go.

Only 46 days till Christmas...twang, twang.

WOULDA, COULDA, SHOULDA

So I just got off the phone after a surprise call from an old college friend...

There's no friend like an old college friend when it comes to the uncanny ability to instantly whisk you down memory lane to a younger, less-encumbered, more carefree time of life...like, say, when you were in your early 20s...

(Oh, by the way, that's a pic of my freshman dorm, Boyd Hall, at Ohio University in Athens...some very fond memories...)

Anyway...my friend and I were catching up with each other's lives and I was sharing some tidbits about my recent fun trip to Minneapolis to visit my 23-year-old niece. I noted how confident, energetic, and rarin' to take on the world my niece is...and how, at the ripe ol' and somewhat tired and disillusioned age of 51, I am downright envious of her. How I wish I had her verve.

"You had that when you were her age," my friend said.

"I did?" I asked. "Really? I don't remember..."

"Yeah, you did," my friend said.

I just don't remember feeling vervy.

I mean, I remember wanting to become the next Erma Bombeck, and being jazzed about graduating from journalism school...but I was never one of those gutsty j-school students who lived and breathed journalism and bravely embarked on exciting summer internships to Tel Aviv or even Cleveland.

I wrote a few horribly boring pieces for the Athens Messenger...and I was a copy editor for The Post, the Ohio University newspaper.

Yippy Skippy.

And then I moved to Carroll, Iowa, for cryin' out loud, after graduation.

How safe and very non-vervy.

"But you wanted to be near your family, your sister," my friend gently reminded me.

Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten my reasoning...it's all coming back to me now...

Actually, I had intended to live and work in Davenport (where my sister resided) that summer after graduation , send out resumes and eventually land a writing job back in Ohio. Back to my beloved Cincinnati...maybe write a humor column for The Cincinnati Enquirier...write the Great American Novel...

I never made it back to the Queen City.

I snagged a daily newspaper job in Carroll (my only job offer), ended up getting married, pursued my writing career here and there about The Tall Corn State... and the rest, as they say is history...

Bottom line is -- to quote from one of my favorite movies, The Way We Were -- "We make our choices, and then our choices make us." (Thank you, Babs Streisand.)

The thing is, for all sorts of reasons, life often just happens, just sort of unfolds serendipitously before us, in spite of our plans, intentions or true desires.

And that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Nearly 30 years later, tho, as one stands a bit past the mid-mile marker on life's rocky road, staring down what's left of the not-so-long homestretch, one can't help but ponder now and then -- particularly after a surprise phone call from an old college friend -- what if I woulda? I coulda...maybe I shoulda...

If I'd only had the verve...

LEAF RAKING AND WHY I DO IT

Well, if I don't rake the leaves, all MY leaves are blown helter-skelter into my neighbors' leaf-free yards...and then I feel guilty.

And who needs more guilt?

Besides, I love the crisp fall air, the feel of gardening gloves and a rake in my hand...tho I don't care much for the ever-predictable blister that shows up between my thumb and index finger even if I wear said gardening gloves...

Actually, truth be told, I think I'm ditching the rake this year and using my neighbor Jeff's bagger/mower. It will still take me all day to sweep the lawn free of those pesky-once-colorful-and-charming-now-brown-and-dead leaves. But at least I won't have a blister at the end of the day. Plus my lawn -- or haven of Creeping Charlie, if you will -- will be trimmed one last time before the cold Iowa wind blows in its first snowstorm. That is, of course, if global warming hasn't done away with the snow entirely...

If I were truly energetic -- and I am a tad more energetic than usual due to that LOVELY extra hour of sleep gained by turning our clocks back last night...I would drag out the ladder and hang the Christmas lights after I've "raked" the leaves...you know, take advantage of the nice fall weather...

Granted, it is more fun to wait till just before Thanksgiving and watch John battle the take-your-breath-away Iowa chill and tornado-like high winter winds while balancing precariously atop a ladder as he attempts to position the tiny little brackets that clasp the twinkling white icicle lights to the gutter...

But, let's face it...John is getting a little long in the tooth (as we all are) and perhaps its time for young Mr. Daniel to inherit the yearly Christmas lights debacle, er, duty . And it really does make more sense to put up the damn, I mean, beautiful, lights on a beautiful day.

Hey, and maybe, while I am hauling the leaves to the lagoon (or the dump, or wherever I'm supposed to take them), and Daniel is hanging Christmas lights, John could grab the ol' hairdryer and the recently purchased window insulation kits and install those oh-so-attractive and allegedly see-through shrink film insulates over our oh-so-old-and-rather-non-energy-efficient windows.

(BTW, despite my promise that we were not turning on the furnace this winter in an effort to thwart the "blood-sucking municipal utility people" (as I so kindly refer to them the day I get my monthly bill), and regardless of my vow that we'd be wearing coats, hats, gloves, and towels wrapped around our faces to stave off nose hair freezing at bedtime, we have, alas, turned on the furnace. But it's set only at 60. And from there it will not budge. Not one degree. Or else, the wrath of Mommy Dearest will be unleashed.)

Now where was I?

Oh, yes. I feel a family work day coming on...

Wait...oh, drat.

What was I thinking? John and Daniel are going over to Grandma's to watch football this afternoon and evening...silly me...

Looks like it's just me and the leaves and the lagoon...the Christmas lights and shrink wrap will have to wait.

Oh, well...I hear the lagoon is lovely this time of year...

Hark! What's that noise?

Omigod! It's the leaf blower! I take back what I said...John and Daniel, it seems, are doing their part to rid the lawn of leaves before they go to Grandmama's for an afternoon of football...

Hmm...guilt must've gotten the better of them...more than likely it was John's picturing me attempting to drive the neighbor's pick-up truck, packed full with leaves, to the dump.

Tee-hee.

Guess guilt is a good thing sometimes...

I (Still) Got The Music In Me

I was thinking today (which is no small feat...ba-da-bump) how depressing that song is that Daniel and his friends listen to...it is often playing on the radio in the background during the day at my new job...

And it goes something like this....

"I...believe...the world...is coming to an end", la, la, la, so forth and so on.

But is it really any more depressing than that classic from back in the day that goes something like this...

"Dust in the wind...all we are is dust in the wind" la, la, la, so forth and so on...

I mean, for cryin' out loud, I bought the damn album my sophomore year in college (or was it my junior year?) and listened to Dust in The Wind over and over again...they should have handed out Prozac with each album sold....

Not that the sound track from The Way We Were was any cheerier...I used to cry myself to sleep to that ol' 33 RPM...LOL...

Or how about the movie Beaches? How 'bout ol Wind Beneath My Wings? How many times in a row did I watch that tear jerker?How many times did I play that rip-your-heart-out song on my cassette recorder, huh?

Holy Cow...

And as long as I'm blogging about sad, silly sentimental songs and such...

Seems there's a lot of Bob Seger playing during the day on the classic rock station that's on now and then at work...Someday lady you'll accompany me, blah, blah, blah...Down on Main Street...Turn The Page, yada, yada, yada...

Enough, already.

Yeah, that's Bob way down and over on the right in my blog sidebar (down past my boyfriend Johnny Depp)...I captioned Bob's pic "Ear Candy" last summer when I resdesigned my blog after my cinci vacation. I used to LOVE Bob Seeger. I used to LOVE the sound of his scraggly, shall-we-say somewhat hillbilly-ish voice.

Well, make sure and take another gander down there at ol' Bob.

LOL.

I dunno. Guess my taste in music has just simply changed. Bob just doesn't speak to me anymore (snooty sniff, hands on hips, nose up in the air).

In fact, if I never hear another Bob Seger song again the rest of my life, it will be too soon. I'm even considering regifting my Bob Seger's Greatest Hits CD this Christmas...(along with the Songs and Songwriters of the 70s CD set that someone once gave me...retro-schmetro.)

LOL.

Give me kickin-a Gwen Stefani any day of the week...

A few times I've been around that track
So it's not just gonna happen like that
Because I ain't no hollaback girl
I ain't no hollaback girl...

I'll give that song a 10, Dick. It's got a beat, and you can dance to it.

And, like my heroes the Dixie Chicks once sang...

Sometimes ya gotta dance.

IT"S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR

And I don't mean the upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays...

This Saturday night is THE most wonderful time of the year because -- ta-da! Daylight Savings Time comes to an end, we get to set our clocks back, and we all get one whole extra hour of SLEEP!

YAY!

I will savor all 60 beautiful extra minutes in ZZZZ-Town...

Sleep and chocolate -- two things -- the only things -- I crave these days...

Perhaps I'll celebrate Daylight Savings Time's end by nibbling on some Peanut M&Ms...

Speaking of Peanut M&Ms...

It was "Ghouls Gone Wild" on our street this Halloween...

OK, maybe more like "Ghouls Just Wanna Have Fun"...

At any rate, there were lots and lots of ADORABLE little ghosts, goblins, bees, fairies, dinosaurs, super heroes and the like combing the neighborhood for treats...

Noticed, however, that kids rarely actually say "Trick or Treat" any more...they just hold out their bags and expect you to toss the sugary loot in without a word...

"What do you say?" I asked those who attempted to forgo the traditional Halloween greeting...

"Please?" they'd respond, staring at me, as though totally confused, as they held open their bags.
"How 'bout 'Trick or Treat?" I'd offer back.

"Oh, yeah, Trick or Treat!" they'd giggle.

Ya know, back in the day, when candy was a true treat instead of a main staple in kids' diets, I think Halloween was more fun, or meant more....

I, as family tradition holds, handed out treats by myself..Daniel fashioned himself too old to help...and John did his usual disappearing act -- this year he conveniently had to fix a leak in his mom's kitchen faucet.

I think he was traumatized somehow by trick-o-treaters back in the day...

Whatever.

And I, as tradition also holds, ate more peanut M&Ms than I handed out..

Two mini bags for me, one for the kiddies...

Hey, don't forget to set those clocks back!

More rambling to come...

In Youth We Learn...

In Age We Understand...

(Yikes...51...Whodathunk?)

Thoughts Before My 51st Birthday...

I mean...life is just so daily...

I was sooo hoping my 50s would be simple, uncomplicated...

More Pre-Birthday Thoughts...

I get by with a little help from my friends...

(Get by? At almost 51, that's how I survive!)

Looking To The Future...

Helpful advice for my hubby as The Golden Years beckon...

Life's Lessons Learned

So it's the night before my 51st birthday...

I tend to wax analytical as the clock ticks ever onward and upward...

UPTOWN GIRLS

Oh! My! Gosh!

When my Sis said it was going to be a Thelma and Louise weekend, she wasn't kidding...

We hit the road at 6:30 a.m., bookin' it to Uptown Minneapolis from Des Moines in my sister's (surprise!) new sporty convertible...we crank the tunes way up, starting with the soundtrack from Thelma & Louise, of course...

I felt it when the sun came up this morning
I knew I could not wait another day
Darling, there is something I must tell you
A distant voice is calling me away...

Until we find a bridge across forever
Until this grand illusion brings us home
You and I will always be together
From this day on you`ll never walk alone...

You`re a part of me, I`m a part of you
Wherever we may travel
Whatever we go through

Whatever time may take away
It cannot change the way we feel today
So hold me close and say you feel it, too...
You`re a part of me, and I`m a part of you...

Highlights: A cuppa joe from Caribou Coffee in Des Moines...a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit (my fave) from Mickey D's in Story City... a strawberry slushy from Kwik Trip (can't remember where we were), lots of gabbing and laughing and singin' along to some great old tunes...I mean, we are beltin' 'em out...

Whenever I'm with him
Something inside
Starts to burning
And I'm filled with desire...

Could it be the devil in me
Or is this the way love's supposed to be?
It's like a heat wave
Burning in my heart
Can't keep from crying
It's tearing me apart...

It feels so good to get the heck out of Iowa... it feels even better to be hangin' with my Sis, actually doing something OTHER than going to a family funeral (our usual reason for a road trip). Not that we don't have fun together, whatever the reason...

Like the time we were driving to Michigan to visit our ailing dad (who, we had just found out, was dying from cancer) and we passed a road sign for The Sapp Brothers Truck Stop.

"Hey, the Sapp Brothers...I think I dated one of them in college," I quipped.

Ba-da-bump.

My niece's older, third-floor one-bedroom apartment is too cool for words...big windows looking out onto the bustling, eclectic Uptown Minneapolis neighborhood...grocery store, coffee shops, bars, restaurants a hop, skip and a jump from her front door...

Lunch at Stella's, outside, on the rooftop...breathtaking view of the downtown Minneapolis skyline and the best tuna melt sandwich and garlic mashed potatoes I have EVER tasted...not to mention the thirst-quenching ever-popular Stella's Purple Mojito...

Nibblin on sponge cake
Watchin the sun bake
All of those tourists covered with oil
Strummin my six-string
On my front porch swing
Smell those shrimp they're beginnin' to boil...

Wastin away again in Margaritaville
Searching for my lost shaker of salt...

Words of wit from the wall at Stella's: "Don't pity the lobster...it lives to kill."

LOL.

A two-block stroll after lunch takes us to Lake Calhoun...folks roller blading, riding bikes, sail boating, jogging and walking around the lake...oh, golly, the leaves are so beautiful here...reminds me why I love autumn...

We meander back toward Liz's apartment...she treats us to (surprise!) birthday manicures at reVamp, a trendy salon, followed by an exciting and educational ride in the Flour Tower at the historical Mill City Museum in downtown Minneapolis...

And suddenly it hits me...I have not had this much fun since Cincinnati...

I come home in the morning light
My mother says when you gonna live your life right
Oh, mother dear we're not the fortunate ones
And girls they want to have fun
Oh, girls just want to have fun...

The phone rings in the middle of the night
My father yells what you gonna do with your life
Oh, daddy dear you know you're still number one
But girls they want to have fun
Oh, girls just want to have -

That's all they really want
Some fun...
When the working day is done
Oh, girls they want to have fun
Oh, girls just want to have fun...

Later, back at the apartment, we relax for a while...I gaze out the windows, soaking up the late-afternoon ambience of Uptown Minneapolis...it's just so absolutely teeming with activity, with life...possibilities...I love it here. I could live here...

Correction.

I could've lived here. Once upon a time...

Suddenly, sirens scream.

A bedraggled bearded man stands, sorta stooped, on the street corner, a small, scribbled cardboard sign hangs from his scrawny neck..."Anything will help..."

I think, "There but for the grace of God go I..."

When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best
When I lay me down to die
Goin' up to the spirit in the sky

Goin' up to the spirit in the sky
That's where I'm gonna go when I die
When I die and they lay me to rest
Gonna go to the place that's the best.

We freshen our faces, fluff our hair, and off we go to Bar Abilene, just down the street, for an evening of dining and more girl talk...

As you brush your shoes
And stand before the mirror
And you comb your hair
And grab your coat and hat
And you walk, wet streets,
Tryin to remember
All the wild night breezes
In your memory ever.

And evrything looks so complete
When you're walkin out on the street
And the wind catches your feet
And sends you flyin, cryin

Ooh-wee! The wild night is calling...

We could talk-- and laugh -- all night. I love my sis and my niece so much...I want to freeze this moment, this perfect moment...

I don't wanna be the one who's old before their time
And lose the wonder that I felt as a child
I can't run this race believing I might lose
There's still so much to see, so much left to do

Yes, I'll fall before I fly
But no one can say I never tried
Oh, we just get one ride around the sun
In this dream of time
It goes so fast
And one day we look back
And we ask, Was that my life?

I close my eyes and think how lucky I have been
To hold the ones I love, and share my dreams with them
All those sunny days and all those starry skys
Good Morning kisses and sweet Good Nights

I can't tell them enough
Just how much they are loved...

Well, I gotta get some sleep...if I can get to sleep...

What a great day...

Oh, Joy Is Me!

Mimi is a woman now!

Yes, lo and behold, my darling 8-month-old Rat Terrier is having her first menstrual period.

I suppose I need to have "the talk" with her, and reassure her she can still run and fetch a bone and go swimming while menstruating, and I could possibly instruct her on how to use a heating pad to relieve cramps...

But right now I am frantically trying to figure out how to get to Des Moines to buy doggy diapers, or pooch pants, or bitches britches-- or whatever the hell one calls the things dogs use during that time of the month -- or year, or whatever -- before I leave for Minneapolis this weekend...

We just can't buy those delicate pieces of canine lingerie here in Podunk.

Oh, I suppose I could use baby diapers, as some of my in-the-know dog-loving friends have advised. Just cut a little hole for Mimi's tail here, use a little surgical tape to strap it around Mimi there...

Yeah, right.

Like I say, she's a RAT TERRIER! A high-intensity, jump-a-second RAT TERRIER.

Does anyone reeeaallyy think the little darling will sit still long enough for me to strap a diaper or pants of any kind on her?

Hah!

And just how long does anyone think said diaper will last? Mimi will have that thing chewed to smithereenies in seconds flat...

Oh, well...this, too shall pass...

Brings back such fond memories of my first period....my mother calling all over the neighborhood... Mrs. B., Mrs. Morgan, probably Mrs. Maier, too...and and in an excited, albeit hushed, voice, announcing,"Ann's a woman!"

Thank God she didn't have a blog.

WOW!

Thanks to all who took the time to read and comment back to me, either here or via email, regarding my post on Blog Action Day...

It was great feeling like this blog was part of something BIG...and meaningful...something that maybe, just maybe, made people take a minute or two and think about the the environment environment and what steps we can take to save the earth.

In case you are curious just how many blogs participated in Blog Action Day, click here.

You may just be amazed.

Happy Birthday, Sis!

Leaving home for the first time is hard...But paying the phone bills when you're away from your sister is harder!

So goes the quote in one of my "Sisters" keepsake books that my very own sister -- OK, I still call her Sissy at times -- gave me for my 50th birthday last year.

I was thumbing through that book recently because A) I was actually dusting the bookshelf it sits on and B) my Sis and I turn a year older this month (she, of course, being the older sister by, ahem, eight years), and I began reflecting on growing older.

In fact, my sis's birthday is today!

I had to chuckle about the sisters and phonebills saying because no one knows how to run up a phone bill like me, and nobody knows that better than my dear Sis.

"If you ever feel homesick, just call me collect," she said to me after dropping me off at my freshman college dorm at Ohio University back in '75.

And so I did.

That poor gal was swimming in long distance phone bills before my first three weeks of my first year of college had passed.

Hey, what can I say? I missed my Sissy.

She has always been there for me...

Through thick and thin (and every fad diet we have ever tried)...

In good times and bad (like cleaning out our dad's house after he died...it was the worst of times, and yet, it turned out to be one of the most hilarious sisterly bonding experiences we've ever had...hard to explain unless you knew our dad...ah, hell, unless you knew our whole family...let's just say me and my Sis know how to put the "fun" back in dysfunctional)...

In sickness and in health ( I always waited to get sick until I was home from college for the holidays, and my Sis was right there with the chicken soup, the crackers, the 7-Up)...

Indeed, a sister -- my sister -- has been a constant source of strength, wisdom, comfort and pride.

A sister always knows when to bring tissues and when to bring champaigne...or tissues and a pitcher of margaritas at the same time...whatever it takes...

Sisters allow you the joy of becoming an aunt...although, when my niece and nephew were little, and after spending a weekend with them, I'd always feel like doubling up on my birth control pills (an old, standing joke between me and my Sis).

In fact, this weekend, my Sis and I are taking off for Minneapolis to visit my niece...

A Thelma and Louise weekend to celebrate our birthdays (mine is next week), although my Sis promises we're not going to rob or shoot anyone, and we definitely are coming back...we're just getting out of town, playin' our favorite tunes, and doing what we do best -- gabbing and laughing.

Ah, yes...the older you get, the more fun it is to have a sister...

It's true, you know.

A sister is a forever friend.

And I thank God for her.

Happy Birthday, Sis! I love you!

IF EVERYONE LIVED LIKE ME...

If everyone lived like me, we would need 3.9 planets.

Yikes.

That's according to the "How Big Is Your Footprint?" quiz I answered recently on earthday.net in preparation for today, Blog Action Day, when thousands of bloggers across the world are posting about one very important issue: the environment.

The political activist in me, of course, jumped at the chance to participate in Blog Action Day. And I immediately considered regaling Home Stretch readers with some of my fondest memories from my one and only semi-recent environmental "crusade"...

Some Stuart bloggers may still remember my non-stop newspaper coverage of the Adair County Iowa Citizens for Community Improvement's (ICCI) successful -- and history-making -- campaign a few years back to keep a large, smelly, non-environmentally friendly hog confinement from being built in Stuart. Who knew that there was so much to know about the wrong way and the right way to complete and submit manure management plans?

It occurred to me, however, that it is always easy to point fingers at the large Confined Animal Feeding Operation (CAFO) folks, and other big corporate industries that are regularly contributing to the destruction of our environment yet ignore what we, as indiviuals, are doing in our daily lives to make environmental matters worse.

I mean, is it enough to recycle empty Gatorade bottles and turn off the water while I brush my teeth? Or is there more I can do to live a "green" life? Just how much "nature" does my lifestyle require?

So I took the "How Big Is Your Footprint" Quiz, which estimates how much productive land and water you and I need to support what we use and what we discard.

After answering 15 easy questions, here is what I learned:
*My ecological footprint, based on my quiz results, is 17 acres.
*The average ecological footprint in the United States is 24 acres per person.
*Worldwide, there exists 4.5 biologically productive acres per person.

Thus, like I said at the beginning of this post, if everyone lived like me, we would need 3.9 planets.

Yikes.

That's not good. Especially for a woman who once insisted on using cloth bags for hauling home groceries when I went Krogering (back in my Cinci days) and who encouraged Daniel to hug trees when he was little (thank you, Sesame Street).

So what in the world can we do do to live a greener, more environmentally-sound life?

According to the William J. Clinton Foundation:

Tip # 1 Get on Your Bike!
For every mile you ride your bike instead of driving a car, you avoid the production of about one pound of carbon dioxide. ( I have been riding my bike now and then since I am sans my own car.)

Tip # 2 Save Water with Powder Detergents
Switch from liquid detergents to powders. Laundry liquids are mostly water (approx. 80%). It costs energy and packaging to bring this water to the consumer. (That's not a hard switch to make...but what about Downey? I LOVE Downey...)

Tip # 3 Save a Tree, or Two or Three
Get tough on tissues. If every household in the U.S. replaced one box of 85 sheet virgin fiber facial tissues with 100% recycled ones, we could save: 87,700 trees, 226,500 cubic feet of landfill space ( equal to 330 full garbage trucks), 31 million gallons of water (Annual supply for 240 families of four), and avoid 5,300 pounds of pollution! Buy only recycled paper products for your office, bathroom and kitchen. (Again, not too tough to do.)

Tip # 4 Check Your Water Heater
Keep your water heater thermostat no higher than 120°F. Save 550 lbs. of carbon dioxide and $30 per year. Talk to your building or condo manager to upgrade the efficiency of the boiler in your building to magnify the savings. (Sounds like a job for John.)

Tip # 5 Change Your Light Bulbs
Replace 3 frequently used light bulbs with compact fluorescent bulbs. This will save approximately 300 lbs. of carbon dioxide and $60 per year. (Another "honey do" job for John.)

Tip #6 Muscle Mow Your Lawn
Mowing for an hour with a gasoline- powered lawn mower can produce as much air pollution as a 350-mile drive in a car. Consider this alternative which emits nothing other than clippings and burns calories too: push a lightweight reel mower. (Oh, c'mon Bill...you've got to be kidding...)

Tip #7 Change Your Thermostat
Conserve fuel by turning down the heat at night and while you are away from your home — or install a programmable thermostat. Setting the airconditioning thermostat in your building to 76 degrees in the summer will dramatically reduce your electricity bill and you'll do your bit to save energy and the environment. (I've already vowed that we will be wearing hats, coats, gloves to bed and wrapping our faces in towels so nose hairs don't freeze in order to avoid having to pay those blood-sucking municipal utility people any more money than I already have to this winter...)

Tip # 8 Reduce Garbage
Buy products with less packaging and recycle paper, plastic and glass. You can save around 1,000 lbs. of carbon dioxide per year by reducing, reusing and recycling. (Can-do. Tho' I must confess that lately I have been lazy and tossing the aforementioned empty Gatorade bottles in the trash...my bad.)

Tip # 9 Use Recycled Paper
According to the EPA, from Thanksgiving to New Year's Day, household waste increases by more than 25 percent due to holiday gift-giving. When wrapping gifts, remember to recycle and reuse. Also whenever possible use 100% post-consumer recycled paper when printing and save approximately 5 lbs. of carbon dioxide per ream of paper. (Oh, puh-leez...don't even talk about the holidays...)

Tip # 10 Fill Your Dishwasher
Run your dishwasher only with a full load. Save approximately 100 lbs. of carbon dioxide and $40 per year. Why not set it to eco-mode to save even more energy and water? (Dishwasher? What dishwasher? That old brown piece of decaying metal that sits in my kitchen? Hah. We don't use no stinkin' dishwasher... we do it the old fashioned way...Lemon Joy and a little elbow grease...)

Well, starting today I'll work harder to do what I can to put my best, greenest foot forward.

I'll do it for Daniel and the rest of the world's kids. For, as they say, the meek shall inherit the earth.

Or what's left of it.

COMING MONDAY...

STAY TUNED...

NOT A SQUARE TO SPARE

Good Morning, Blogosphere!

To my regular Home Stretch readers -- and you know who you are -- I apologize for not posting more this past week...

Busy reinventing myself for the purpose of improving my financial status.

Although my husband and I have picked out the bridge we think we might enjoy living under in retirement, I'm figurin' that a better paying job might be the more sensible solution.

Will fill you in later.

Right now, must run to the store -- we are out of toity paper and dog food.

Then it's off to In The Dough (my favorite local coffee spot since Starbucks is loathe to locate here in Podunk) for a bit of caffeine and a delicious sweet roll -- or two -- with my friend Nancy -- and maybe Angie, if she can get her rear end out of the sack this a.m. :)

Then it's off to Great Clips so Sonny Boy can get that mop of his cut...

Just another Pleasant Valley Saturday.

Back soon.

Celebrating My Truly Beautiful, Perfectly Imperfect Life

No one is perfect.

No one.

We all -- each and every one of us -- are perfectly imperfect.

And that, my friends, is a truth to celebrate; a comforting, freeing reminder to let go of perfectionism wherever and whenever it rears its brutal, unattainable head.

Indeed, like it or not, perfection-- no matter how hard we try -- is unattainable. Imperfection, on the other hand, is naturally occuring. Unavoidable. And, if you adhere to the wabi-sabi philosophy oflooking at life, imperfection is beautiful.

Wabi-sabi also recognizes the bittersweet impermanence of the moments of our lives.

Bottom line? It's a wabi-sabi life, brothers and sisters, and by golly, it's high time I start living it -- and enjoying it -- as such.

I know, I know...

Yesterday I was blogging about feng shui...today it's wabi-sabi...

Frankly, I fear that once my feng shui is evaluated, I will realize that I have to repaint every room, and paint is not in my budget right now. Wabi-sabi, from what I can deduce, is a more affordable life philosophy...

It's a universal ideal of beauty celebrating the basic, the unique, and the imperfect parts of our lives.

Remember the comfortable joy you felt as a child, happily singing off key? Creatively coloring outside the lines? Mispronouncing words with gusto? That, my friends, is a simple explanation of wabi-sabi.

Or, on a deeper level, wabi-sabi is "the profound awareness of our oneness with all life and the environment. It includes a deep awareness of the choices we make each day, the power we have to accept or reject each moment of our lives, and to find value in every experience."

In other words, adopting a wabi-sabi approach to life means "appreciate this and every moment, no matter how imperfect, for this moment is your life. When you reject this moment, you reject your life."

(Eeeek! How much time have I wasted rejecting my life over the years?)

That's not to say that you must settle for this moment, of course. You are, according to Gold, "free to steer a different course, but for now, this moment is yours, so be mindful to make the most of it."

Amen.

Slow down, you're movin' too fast

Ya gotta make the moment last

Just kickin' down the cobblestones

Lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy...

So just how does one live a wabi-sabi life? How does one who is caught up in the mad-dash race we call life, get to the "Imperfect Life, I love you, all is groovy" point?

More to come on wabi-sabi.

Have You Checked Your Feng Shui Lately?

So I was chillin' with my friend Gloria the other afternoon (I call her Glo for short), and she generously offered to swing by my house some Saturday and check out my feng shui...

I figured,"why not?"

I mean, hell's bells, Mabel, a little feng shui overhaul just might be the key to improving daily life at The Homestretch household.

Admittedly, I know very little-- nothing, really -- about feng shui-- but considering how my life generally goes, I am sure its off kilter and needs adjusting.

Glo said something about my relationship corner, and my financial corner...something about taking two pics --one of me and one of John -- facing them toward each other and binding them together by wrapping a red ribbon around them 99 times (exactly why 99 times as opposed to say, 98 or 100, she didn't say), and placing them in the relationship corner of my house.

I'm game. What could it hurt?

Of course, if I understood Glo correctly (and chances are, I did not) my relationship corner is, like, in Daniel's room...and he might not quite "get" the whole feng shui mom-and-dad-pic-wrapped-in-a-red-ribbon dangling from a corner of his ceiling or whatever.

Of course, I could stash the pic under his bed (which is in a corner) and, based on the number of empty Gatorade bottles, dirty undrwear and stinky football socks that are usually taking up residency there, the pic would most likely go unnoticed for years...

I would even go so far as to say that the pic would probably sit there, quietly, unobtrusively doing its feng shui thing under DJ's bed for DECADES unless, for some strange reason, Daniel got an extremely wild hair and decided to thoroughly clean his room...

But I digress.

Anyway...

As for my financial feng shui, there is, as Glo explained it, something about taping a $100 bill under your desk...the desk, of course, must be in the financial corner of your house.

LOLOLOLOLOL.

Firstly, I'm a'thinkin' there ain't no financial corner in our house.

Secondly, if there is a $100 bill to be found anywhere near our house, I won't be affixing it to the bottom of my desk. The blood-sucking Municipal Utilities will be getting it. Or the blood-sucking mortgage people. Or the blood-sucking home owners insurance people.

Yet again, I digress.

At any rate, I can't wait to hear what Glo has to say after evaluating my feng shui...if nothing else, it will most likely mean an afternoon of rearranging my living room, which is always a good time...and GREAT therapy.

Stay tuned.

Well, Yippy Skippy...It's Sarcastics Awareness Month

All these years spent dripping in sarcasm, and I never even had an inkling that October was THE month for those of us who dabble in the "S" word.

I glean from my research that Sarcastics Awareness Month is

(1) For those who realize they are sarcastic and want to get it under control;

(2) For those who are sarcastic and want to get better at it; and

(3) For those who are forced to live or work with people who are sarcastic.

This "special" month is sponsored by -- big surprise -- Sarcastics Anonymous.

This is also Clergy Appreciation Month.

Hmm...clergy appreciation...

Now there's an oxymoron...

Ba-da-bump.

Still Time To Celebrate...

All my griping about my dog today (see earlier post) and I almost forgot what today is!

C'mon now...everybody yell: "Happy Name Your Car Day!"

What?

You say your car doesn't have a name? My gosh, do you have ice water running through your veins? Think of all the time you spend in your car...the damn machine needs a name.

Back in the day, when I drove my dad's falling-apart old greenish-blue '75 Ford Galaxy 500 convertible, my friend Linda andI named my jalopy "The Green Gobbler" for (what else?) the strange, gobbling-like noise it made when we repeatedly circled Linda's cul-de-sac.

Made perfectly good sense, don'tcha think?

My current car -- a 2001 yellow Ford Escape -- I have dubbed "You Stupid, Good-For-Nothing Piece of Crap".

Need I expound?

So, before the clock strikes midnight and "Name Your Car Day is but a bittersweet memory, kick up your heels--or kick the tires, if you are so moved -- and give your car its day in the sun...or, in this case (considering it is 8:10 p.m. (9:10 Cinci time), its night under the moon.

Now, if you've been wanting to name your car, but haven't a clue how to go about doing that, here are some helpful car-naming tips that I just pirated off my one of my favorite "bizarre October holiday" websites:

*Don't select wimpy names. That might give your car a personality complex and it will perform accordingly.

*Do give a strong, aggressive name to sports cars and cars with powerful engines.

*Sleek, sexy feline-like cars savor names that begin with "lady".

*Old junkers are proud just to be around. You can call them just about anything. Try "Tramp", or "Old Yeller", "Old Blue".

*Pick names to reflect your personality.

*"Pickemup" trucks must have country names.

*Don't give common names (like Joe, Mike or Becky) to luxury cars. They beam over names like Reginald, Archibald, and Crystal.

Nitey-nite.

FREE TO A GOOD HOME

Today, she chewed the stuffing out of my antique kitchen chairs.

A few weeks ago, she destroyed two pairs of John's shoes.

When she was three months old, she chewed my new eyeglasses all to hell (before they were paid for, I might add), and let's see, what else...

I could go on, but why?

Whose ingenious suggestion was it to get a Jack Rat anyway?

Didn't we learn after Rosie, the insane and totally w/o bladder control Cocker Spaniel?

Note to self: I am NOT a dog person.

Geesh.

Time Passages

I'm in a bit of a blog fog this a.m. due, I figure, to that intense emotional merry-go-round we call "life".

Mourning the death of a friend one minute -- reminded, once again, how vulnerable we all are, how tomorrow is promised to no one, how we must make the most of the present -- and then having to put on my happy, smiling, "ain't life grand" game face as I schlep groceries the next...

I want to make each day count, but the days anymore seem to storm by at the speed of light...how does one find time to stop and smell the roses before the roses are being draped atop your casket or the casket of someone you love?

Maybe that's why last night I was dreaming about riding stark naked in the front seat of a speeding car -- not sure who was at the wheel -- and seeing before me, just beyond the windshield, the bright lights of a giant ferris wheel...the carnival was in town!

Oh, how I wanted to stop and ride the rides and smell the popcorn and I was so excited...and, apparently, not one bit bothered by the fact that I did not have a stitch of clothing on...

"Oh, can we stop? Please?" I begged the driver.

But the driver just kept going. We drove around the bend.

I missed the damn carnival.

I dare say you don't have to be Freud to analyze THAT dream...

So here I sit at the computer-- fully clothed,I might add -- thinking of a million things I should be doing instead of writing...laundry, dishes, dusting, blah, blah, blah.

But I love to write...it is one of my life's passions...and at almost 51, ANY kind of passion needs to be savored -- so the laundry, dishes, dusting will just have to wait a few more minutes.

Here's to Saturday mornings and smelling the roses and writing --or doing whatever it is you love to do.

Time is of the essence, my friends.

Make the most it.

LOVE KEEPS US TOGETHER

It's been a very sad week.

Hard to believe that it's been a week already. A week ago today.

Impossible to fathom how life just rushes on in the face of death...the loss of a friend...a mother...a wife...

There are jobs to get back to , classes to make up, bills to pay...the daily details of our lives...

But we must take time to grieve...to face our losses...to feel the crushing sorrow, brave the immeasurable pain...

However, in our grief, we must also take time to remember the good times, the laughter, the beauty of the life that once touched ours.

Our loved ones never leave us, really, when we keep our fondest memories of them alive in our hearts.

Yes, our love for our dear ones, our memories of them, keeps us together. Forever.

Patty touched so many lives...

A Bridge Called Love
It takes us back to brighter years,
to happier sunlit days
and to precious moments
that will be with us always.

And these fond recollections
are treasured in the heart
to bring us always close to those
from whom we had to part.

There is a bridge of memories
from earth to Heaven above...

It keeps our dear ones near us
It's the bridge that we call love.

~~Author Unknown

But Is It Coffee?

Soul Sisters Just Wanna Have Fun

Patty would have been pleased.

In fact, we could feel her presence as members of our original SOUL (Stressed Out Unified Ladies) group gathered, gabbed, and gobbled up pizza last night in a sort of Big Chill memorial tribute to our fellow sister who was buried earlier yesterday.

It felt like old times, sitting around the "Upper Room" at the church where we used to meet and talk and laugh and offer support for each other until the wee hours of the morning...my gosh, how long had it been? Seven years? Ten?

When we went to the nearby pizza place to dine, we made sure to pull up a chair for Patty.

Patty, we all agreed, was the best one of us all -- kind, compassionate, caring, non-judgmental...her soul was always in the right place.

That's why we know that her soul is in the right place now. We're all hoping and praying she's putting in a good word for the rest of us with the Big Guy...

Otherwise, we're sunk...:)

We've decided to breathe life back into SOUL...try to get together at least once a month...we're all too old and too busy these days to gab into the wee hours of the morning like we used to. But we realize how much we've missed getting together and laughing...

It's too bad it took Patty's funeral to get us all together...but isn't that just like Patty...Even in death, as in life, Patty is still doing and caring and looking out for others. Even her SOUL sisters.

It was, to say the least, a bittersweet evening...

Indeed, Patty was the best one of us all.

Final Flight

Today was Patty's funeral.

Some of us who haven't seen each other much in recent times gathered together around her coffin to pay our final respects...

It's still hard to believe...

We've promised to not wait till the "next" funeral to get together...but life gets so busy...

There is comfort knowing that Patty's suffering here on earth is over...she is free at last...and she left this earth the way she wanted to -- peacefully, in her sleep, her son a high school grad getting along well at college ...

Patty, in her own, always-caring-more-for-others way, would not want us to grieve too long...she would want us to make our days count in a myriad of ways. How perfectly fitting, then, the poem on her funeral folder:

Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free,
I'm following the path God laid for me.
I took his hand when I heard his call,
I turned my back and left it all.

I could not stay another day,
To laugh, to love, to work, to play.
Tasks left undone must stay that way,
I've found that peace at the end of the day.

If my parting has left a void,
Then fill it with remembered joy.
A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss,
Ah, yes, these things, too, I will miss.

Be not burdened with times of sorrow,
I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My Life's been full, I savoured much,
Good friends, good times, a loved one's touch.

Perhaps my time seemed all too brief,
Don't lengthen it now with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and share with me,
God wanted me now,
He set me free.

In Memory of Patty

~ What Cancer Cannot Do ~
Cancer is limited
Cancer cannot cripple love
Cancer cannot shatter hope
Cancer cannot erode faith
Cancer cannot destroy peace
Cancer cannot kill friendship
Cancer cannot destroy memories
Cancer cannot silence courage
Cancer cannot invade the soul
Cancer cannot steal eternal life
Cancer cannot conquer the spirit
Cancer is limited.....

Cancer never crippled Patty's love for others
It never shattered her hope
It didn't erode her faith...

Patty's unrelenting courage in the face of recurring incurable illness was unbelievable; her brave carry-on- and-keep-smiling spirit never wavered...

"Don't count your days, make your days count," advises the decorative plaque in Patty's kitchen.

That was more than a motto for Patty...it was her life's song.

MAMA'S GOT THE 'FIRST HOMECOMING' BLUES

Tonight is the night I worried about the minute my son was born 14 1/2 years ago...

It's the night of his first high school dance...Homecoming 2007...

Wait just a minute as I pour the tears out of his baby shoes...there...(sob, sob) now, where was I?

Oh, yes...DJ's first Homecoming dance...my God, where have the years gone?

He looked very handsome, all dressed up, a boutenere and all...it wasn't until we pulled into his date's driveway, however, and he escorted her to the car and opened the door for her that I felt the lump in my throat.

(Or was it her little STRAPLESS black dress -- yiiiiiiikes -- that brought tears to my eyes and protective mother cat claws to my fingertips?)

She's a lovely girl, and she looked absoultely stunning, even tho I was sooo tempted to offer her a turtle neck winter coat to combat the slight chill in the early fall evening air...

I kept my composure until after they had started walking toward the school door, fairly well beyond earshot...at least a half a foot...and then the tears burst forth.

"Oh, my God, my baby!" I sobbed.

John just kept on driving. Fast.

When I got home, I gathered up DJ's baby shoes, his football, and his kindergarten picture, placed them on the kitchen table...nudged my hubby, pointed at the makeshift DJ shrine, and just sobbed some more...

I toyed with the idea of grabbing my husband's night vision goggles and dashing up to the school to sneak a peek, to secretly peer into the high school commons just to see how things were going...

Was it to late to volunteer as a chaperone?

Well, my golly, look at the time...

Here it is 10:01 already...only 59 minutes to go until we pick up DJ and his date (omigod, his DATE) and take them to a little after-dance party up the street...

Did I just type "after-dance party"?

Omigod.

Where are those damn night vision goggles?

Stay tuned.

SINS OF THE MOTHER

"So Mom, can I go toilet papering?" my frisky freshman son asked me the second last night's Homecoming pep rally ended.

"Uh...."

That's all I could think to say...I knew the question would be coming, but I still wasn't prepared.

Technically, I couldn't stand the thought of my little darling contributing to the naughty, albeit traditional, stringing of toity paper hither and yon about town the night before the big football game....and yet, TPing was a staple in my misspent youth....and he knew it.

He'd heard me talk about it...not at any great length. But still, he knew of my secret sin -- though I don't think my dad ever caught on to my late-night slumber party shenanigans...

"Who are you going with?" I asked, sternly.

As if the group of future prison lifers he was about to run with made a difference in my decision. I mean, I knew who was going -- like half the student population, including the "darlings" of said student pop.

"OK, but don't do anything stupid (like there is anything about TPing that ISN'T stupid?) and be home by 10," I said.

He negotiated 10:30, I said OK, and off he went.]

And I felt sick.

I mean, I was sure I was condoing what could be the start of a license plate-making future for my one and only offspring.

Of course, back in the day, we never even entertained the idea of ASKING our parents if we could go TPing...we just did it. Under the cloak of really late-night/early morning darkness...like 2 a.m. -- in our PJs...

And none of us spent any time in jail...that I know of.

When he came home (at 10:15, mind you, so maybe he isn't destined for prison) I asked him how it went and he regaled me with stories of running and hiding and all the goofy stuff that goes along with TPing...and deep down inside I was laughing hysterically...it did bring back some pretty funny memories....

Like the time my friends and I went TPing and we accidentally locked the car keys in the trunk and had to remove the back seat in order to retrieve the keys and get the heck out of Dodge before we got caught after the "job".

I still have the pics. Somewhere...

Anyway...

It's going to be a long four years.

Homecoming, Burning Leaves, Memories & More

Feeling nostalgic?

Tonight is my son's first Homecoming cornonation...his jersey is being auctioned off...big pep rally...the big Homecoming game tomorrow night...the DANCE Saturday night....he's got a DATE (if that's what they call it these days)...

I still can't believe he is a freshman...

Sunrise, sunset and all that jazz.

I was never a Homecoming queen candidate, nor were most of my my closest high school friends.

But I still remember my first Homecoming -- Denny was my date -- he was a sophomore or junior...and shorter than me...and he weighed less than me...he was a wrestler.

Anyway, I remember the corsage...the dress I wore...

Of course, being a drill team member, I am sure we performed at halftime at our football game...can't remember who we played...I think Denny might have been a quarterback...who knows...who knows where Denny is today...

At any rate, fall and Homecoming bring back so many memories...as does the aroma of burning leaves...

The leaves aren't quite ready to rake, but if you love the smell of burning leaves, and that smell takes you back, you will really enjoy I Remember JFK today...

Have a great Thursday evening...I'll be keeping an eye on whomever "wins" my son's football jersey...No. 81...

Kleenex...Pass me a Kleenex....

FOR LINDA

GUESS WE'RE ALL GETTING OLDER

Wow.

:-) officially joins the QuarterCentury Club today...

If you missed that story, click here and catch up on the popular emoticon's special natal day...

Sally is right, you know...

Interesting issue Gidget has gotten herself into...

But she does have a point.

If women ruled the world...

But that doesn't mean I want Hillary as next prez of the US of A.

Frankly, I like Mr. Obama.

Anyway, go Sally!

ONE REGRET I WILL NEVER HAVE...

Lord knows I've suffered from Buyer's Remorse, and a host of other types of remorse during my lifetime.

Thankfully, I never got a tattoo and have absoultely no plans to get one, hence, a growing concern called "tattoo remorse" is one thing I won't suffer from...yay!

Click here to read about all the folks who ARE regretting their tattoos, however, and how whopping expensive it can be to have the little dickens removed...

Happy Monday!

X-TRA! X-TRA!

As The Nuts Gather Their Squirrels For Winter...

So, too, do I begin to seek out the comfort of certain cold-weather food and beverage.

Crock pot pork roast and mashed potatoes with gravy...

Apple crisp...ladled with cream...

Pumpkin bars slathered with that yummy cream cheese frosting...

Hot chocolate and Peppermint Schnaps...

Indeed, temperatues plummeted yesterday, and it was 48 degrees as we left the football game last night...the football game where, I might add, I devoured two hot beef sandwiches BEFORE halftime.

Then, on the way home, we stopped at Burger King, and I treated myself to a Whopper Junior w/cheese, fries and a Sprite.

And I didn't feel a twinge of guilt.

If you, like me, find yourself craving more and heavier-type fare as Fall closes in, take heart...

You and I are just normal human beings, our bodies in sync with nature, with the seasons. Read all about it at BoomerGirl.com.

See, we're beefing up for a cold winter...making sure we've got a little extra skin on our bones to keep us warm when the snow starts to fly...

Here at our house, however, we're going to need more than extra skin to keep us warm this winter.

Since ripping open our monthly utility bill and discovering our budget billing amount has skyrocketed from $150/mo to $350/mo, I've issued the edict that from this point forward, we will not turn the furnace on -- ever -- this winter. It's coats, hats and long socks at bedtime, which will be as soon as the sun goes down since we will not be using electric lights of any kind for reading or finding our way through the house after dark.

Geesh.

How's an underpaid grocery schlepper with a bachelor of science degree in magazine journalism, living in small-town rural Iowa, supposed to afford the ever-rising cost of living?

Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, I'm heading to the kitchen for heaping plate of French Toast smeared in real butter and syrup and a steaming cup of fat-ladened chocolate raspberry creamer with a splash of coffee.

I will survive.

Hey, It's A Compliment...

As a grocery store cashier, I can so relate to making sure the person attempting to purchase alcohol is of age.

However, either this woman is a real looker, or the cashier is a tad overzealous about the letter of the law...

Anyway, it's a compliment to the lady.

I do have a friend, Nancy, who is 70 and looks 45...she is absolutely gorgeous and young looking...

"I'd give my eye teeth to look like Nancy when I'm 70," I sighed to my husband.

"It would have helped if you had looked like Nancy when you were 25," he quipped, planting a big ol' kiss on my olive-drab green Biore Pore Perfect Shine Control Clay Mask-smeared cheek..

Funny guy.

But he loves me, imperfect pores and all.

Good Times! Good Times!

Omigosh!

If you're a Boomer, and once spent hours listening to your 45s on your old portable record player, you've GOT to check out I Remember JFK today...

LOL.

He's got THAT memory down to a T...including playing the 45s at 78 speed...my mother HATED it when I did that on her good record player, so we had to sneak it once in awhile...:)

My friends and I also spent a lot of time lipsynching our favorite songs in front of the big mirror over the couch in my living room...we used hairbrushes for microphones...

Ahhh...

I still have all my old albums -- scratched and crackly tho' they are....I still love them...

Beatles '65: Got that for my 9th birthday...

Anyway...take a great, rockin' trip down memory lane at I Remember JFK today...you'll be glad you did!

What IS Phenylalanine and What Is it Doing In My Green Tea?

I dreamed all night about being bit by snakes, so I am in a very grouchy mood today...

Hence, I am just going to bitch about stuff today...enter this blog at your own risk, specially if you are NOT in the mood to read the ramblings of one very cranky woman...

Anyway, I love my Diet Lipton Green Tea (Citrus flavor) but it disturbs me to read that it contains phenylketonurics -- phenylalanine. I decided to Google the subject and see what the hell I'm drinking twice, sometimes three times, a day.

So here is what I found...

As I suspected, it has to do with that damn nasty, sweet poison aspartame...

Wonder if aspartame poisoning can cause snake dreams...

I mean, what else could it be?

I never saw the movie "Snakes On A Plane," though there may have been a snake at the Cincinnati airport but i didn't see it at the time...I dunno...

I'm also not too thrilled about the latest report regarding the wonderfully buttery (albeit fake buttery) smell of micorave popcorn...

Did you read about that?

Arghghghghghgh...

No wonder we are all keeling over from cancer and other horrible and often mysterious diseases and ailments...

We all need detox...

Every Ending a New Beginning

So today, Labor Day, marks the last day of summer.

Thank God.

I'm really in the mood for fall this year, not just for the beautiful, bright-colored leaves and the cooler days and nights and because fall is my favorite season, but more for the Season of Introspection that autumn affords.

I suppose, really, that the dead of winter is truly the season for introspection...I mean, what else does one have to do in the midst of arctic cold, snow and ice-covered trees except wrap up in a blanket and peer into one's soul?

I hate the dead of winter, though...I find it offers a little too much time for reflection and self-searching...I would even go so far as to say that I find the dead of winter damn depressing...in fact, I would venture to say you don't know the meaning of depressing until you experience January (and even possibly February) in Iowa...

Hence, October, I have found, is my best month for sifting through the shards of my life and piecing them into some sort of healthy, rational perspective. Not always an easy thing to do, but necessary for continuing personal growth.

Looking myself square in the deepest regions of my soul usually involves kicking myself in the arse for this, that or the other thing... and I can usually count on some tears and gnashing of teeth. But grieving is part of letting go and moving on, of trying harder and doing better the next time, no matter what the issue.

There is, however, an oh-so-fine line between healthy grieving and wallowing in self-recrimination; between cool, cleansing tears of release and the hot, stinging tears of regret.

But it's good to experience both types of crying in one's lifetime so that one knows the difference and, hopefully, learns to avoid situations that could cause one to drown in remorse...

The bad news? Sometimes, that kind of learning takes time. The good news? With age comes wisdom...or so they say.

Anyway...today, Labor Day 2007, I celebrate the end of the summer and the beginning of the Season of Introspection by resting up in preparation for whatever Truth and Realization I may encounter in the coming, self-searching months.

Cups of coffee drenched in French vanilla creamer...a couple of hot, buttered blueberry muffins...a morning spent moodling...lounging on my porch swing while gazing at the 123-old maple tree in my front yard, the tips of but a couple of her green leaves just starting to turn red/orange...

To everything (turn, turn, turn)

There is a season (turn, turn,turn)

Kleenex...I need a Kleenex...