Oakley Goes to Day Care

     7 a.m. 7 a.m. Behavioral assessment at 7 a.m. 

     My sinuses beat steadily to that chant this morning. I had to have him at the day care center at 7 a.m. 

     2:30. 3:18. 4:45. Up at 5:30. Oakley banged his treat ball with his nose as I slammed down my coffee. Out of here with an ample time cushion in case of bad traffic by the two high schools passed en route. 

     Pulled up in front of the building. The owner met us, took the paperwork, his snack as he wagged his tail and laid at my feet. "What do I do now?" I asked when I handed over his leash.

     "Go home," she said with a smile. Calmly, he lead her through the door to the trainer's office.

      Home I went. A good, productive, if entirely too quiet day. Some rest for this cold, yes. The high traffic areas have been tidied. Energy work session went well. 

     4 p.m. 4 p.m...he'll be home to fill the void at 4 p.m.

      

 

Monday Night Thoughts

   Giving The Spouse his space to watch some shows that I don't care for.    
    Met my goal of applying for three writing jobs. Be interesting to see what shakes out. As I think about rewriting my resume, let's see...tractor pulls, dream interpretation, food....no porn. Yet.
     Tired. Oakley has a nasty ear infection. Located deep in the canal, it's making him crabby. Even the gentle ointment makes him whip his head around. I understand my mother better.
     Tired. Long walk this morning. Long day today.
      Oakley has school tomorrow and his day care debut on Wednesday.
      See you tomorrow, Gentle Readers.

Tuesday, 9/6

   Yes. It's Tuesday.  The first Tuesday of the month, so the small city I live near tests its sirens. Even though it's expected, I still jump until I remember that the day is just another Tuesday.
    Today's tests may set off an additional wave of paranoia. We're just days out from the tenth anniversary of 9/11. The media and government have relentlessly pounded on it since 9/12/01.
     We are in two unwinnable wars.
     We have caused countless deaths.
      Can we make it stop, please?

An Open Letter to the Forest Preserve People

Dear Forest Preserve People,

I really don't mind paying taxes to preserve nature. It created joy to see that my dollars had gone to upgrade the old scout camp into a lovely new campground with such great trails along the river.

However, yesterday, as I walked my dog at one of the older preserves--actually, the two conjoined by a network of trails--I noticed a sad lack of trail markers. Especially sad since the trails had to be rerouted due to erosion along the creek. I had walked our now deceased dog there numerous times several years ago to his joy, and wanted our new dog to have the same. What was planned as a two mile mom-and-pup hike turned into a five mile mommy--doggie death march in the 85-degree-plus heat coupled with the outrageous humidity.

As I said, I don't mind my taxes going to preserve nature. However, would it kill you to put up a few more directional signs? And maybe a few more trash cans at the ex-scout camp so that I can pitch dog poop in a timely manner?

Thank you,


Fran

Getting My Hair Back

    Half blond, half medium-dark brown, liberal sprinkling of grey. Too long roots. They stared back at me as I stared at them in the glare of the salon's overhead lights.
     The stylist began painting the color around my hairline. The blond had been something that I wanted to do some years ago, just to see what I'd look like. Not bad. Gratifying to have heads turn, but a pain in terms of upkeep. Every six weeks or look really trashy.
     When all was said and done, I looked like myself again. Not like some bombshell wanna-be. But back to the color that I knew from school pictures, perhaps a few stubborn greys sprinkled throughout.
     Process for 30 minutes, shampoo, cut, blow dry. Good look in the mirror. Youthful, as in full of life and vitality, but not desperately clinging to the fantasy of what I wanted to look like 20 or so years ago. Maybe punch up the lipstick color a bit. Perhaps tone down the red tones with a light dusting of powder. But not bad. Not bad at all.

So Much for That

   So I'll try again with the wheatfree experiment. Last Monday brought the moist, rich carrot cake in a pool of caramel sauce. Thursday, fried shrimp at the Chinese buffet.
    I didn't really notice a difference on the wheatless days. Perhaps I shall try again.

And Now for Something Completely Different

     As Oakley walked me at the forest preserve this morning, one of the workers called to me. "Hey! How's your day going?"

     "Pretty good so far. And you?"

     "Fantastic! By the way, you look fantastic, too!"

       I thanked him.  Always nice to start the day with a compliment, and even better that the weight started moving. 

       What's different? I'm experimenting with backing off on wheat and grains. Most of what's been lost is water. I'm still having a little bread or rice every few days, but mostly getting carbs from sweet or red potatoes, and some really yummy (but pricy) teff tortillas. I'm experimenting with gluten free recipes that involve almond and flax (made some pretty good muffins the other day). 

     So we continue. I snuck in a little baguette with dinner on Sunday. But no other wheaty delights since then. No adverse reactions occurred.

      However the research I've done indicates that there's a tie between gluten issues and thyroid problems. Some people have dramatic symptoms, such as severe cramping and diarrhea. Others (likely me included) retain water and just feel "off."

      Is this the key to helping me feel "on?" Could be. My sister crashed and burned with the wheat thing a few years ago. I will give it another week and see what happens.

The Summer of Our Discontent

   It's another day of predicted 90-degree highs and several rounds of rain. I have no desire to visit the tropics, so why are they visiting me? There's nothing better than standing in the yard with Oakley and feeling the mist blessing my face at dawn. There's nothing worse than the damp weight of the air crushing me in the late afternoon.
    The house has picked up so much solar gain that cooling it is a losing battle. Maybe the cloudy hours of this morning will act as a compress, like a cold cloth on a feverish forehead.
    I don't want to wish time away. Just this weather.
  

The Debt Crisis

   Ever have one of those days when you want to grab someone by the lapels and scream, "GROW THE BLEEP UP!" in his or her face? Looks like today is the day to do that.
     Especially if the individual in question is a Congressional representative. Today is an exceptionally good day to do so via phone, or email, or to paint a picket sign or three. We are a week away from the US defaulting on loans, then taking out a good part of the global economy. And what are our representatives doing? Acting like a bunch of kindergarteners on crack.
     This is not what they are elected to do. They are elected to represent the people, not special interest groups, not corporations, but people. SIG's and corporations don't need Social Security or Medicare, or food stamps. Yet these are the programs getting nailed first.
       Unfortunately, we have a Tea Party Republican who made a ton of cash for himself in the bad mortgage fiasco a couple of years ago. An email will be sent. I don't think Rep. Hultgren cares, but he will hear from me.

Knowing More Than an Expert

    An-noy-ing!
    Ok, you caught me. I'm watching Dr. Oz out of the corner of my eye as I tap away this afternoon. He just had on a representative from a company that purveys eating plans and support groups. They announced a major change: participants may now have unlimited fruit. Any kind of fruit. And not have to include it in the daily allotment of units.
   The problem: from what I've read, this program does not really differentiate between good and bad calories, or good or bad fats. Fruit is good to a point, but this could easily lead to participants substituting it for candy or ice cream.
    The Spouse followed the program, and he lost weight, and kept all but about 20 pounds off (he lost 80). However, we had many lively discussions concerning the health benefits of salad versus the prepackaged frozen meals that consist mostly of white rice or white pasta coupled with a few slivers of vegetables and a shard or two of chicken.
     As Michael Pollen said, "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants."

    
  
 

You Make It Challenging For Me To Stay on My Heart Chakra If You...

...use a Flexileash on a dog weighing more than 10 pounds.
...use a Flexileash on a dog weighing less than 10 pound and the dog manages to get loose and runs barking and growling at Oakley (57 lbs and still growing).
.....you make it really hard if you do the above and laugh and say, "Oh, he won't hurt your dog!"while your dog runs while barking and growling with flattened ears at my dog. Oakley likely won't do anything except inform your dog that his average poop is bigger than him, but I can't vouch for other canines.
....you automatically forward everything that gets forwarded to you to me without looking at it. I have no interest in divisive politics,  9/11 photos, or a lot of the schlocky inspirational bits floating around out there. I also don't like being part of a massive CC list.
...don't use your turn signals.
...call dibsies on my parking space by pulling right up behind me not leaving me enough room to back out.
...post gawdawful heartwrenching videos on Facebook of animals being abused or euthanized. Or worse yet, articles about techniques to do the latter. People, that's why I volunteer for a rescue group and insisted on adopting Oakley and Orion from shelters.
...bring really small children into restaurants that aren't prepared to handle them.
... think Michelle Bachmann would be a good president. Migraines are the least of the issues about why I don't think she should be in office.
Thank you. I feel better now.

If At First You Don't Succeed....

     On one hand, the traditional end to this bit of wisdom is "try, try, again." On the other, there's W.C. Field's thought, "Don't be a dammed fool about it. Give up."
     I fell off the nutrition wagon with a bump a month ago. Today, however, I climb back on and tie myself to its side. The specters of my parent's health issues haunt me with a vengance. My mother's passage at 51 from a heart attack (I turn 49 this fall); my father surrendering to his heart disease and going on disability at 50. Arthritis racked his last years, which lead to him consuming massive amounts of acetomenephine on top of a prescription analgesic that contained the same. He did his blood sugar levels no favors by washing them down with Scotch. We still don't know how he lived to 69.
      While there are practical concerns, there is also the question of vanity. As I left a ladies' room earlier this week, I had a good look at my back side. While it's necessary to accept that menopause does lead to changes in one's body such as hip spread, it is still disconcerting to look in the mirror and feel as if an F-16 could use your butt as a landing strip.
       So with all due respect to Mr. Fields, we try again. I'm shooting for 50 grams of carbs and all the water I can hold today. Oh, and my nightly bite of 72% chocolate.
         On we go again.
      

The Last Comments on Casey Anthony

      Well, Casey Anthony walked. Even though a few of the jurors indicated that they feel that she did it--you know, murdered her daughter--they just didn't have the last piece of evidence needed to feel right about a capitol murder conviction. A ton of circumstantial evidence could have lead to a manslaughter conviction, but no on the death penalty.
      Bottom line: yes, she more than likely did it, or played a part in Caylee's demise. However, the state failed to meet the burden of proof required to meet the criteria for a death penalty case.  Plain and simple.
       I hope some good comes out of it--better child protection laws, ways to make it easier to surrender a child for adoption without condemnation, an open dialog about what parenting can take out of a person. I'd rather see the energy go there instead of setting up yet another hateful page on Facebook.

Waiting for the Next One

     At this rate, Terre Haute is likely to get a wing dedicated to Illinois pols.
     On Monday, eleven women and one man found former governor Rod Blagojevich guilty on 17 of 20 charges. Let's see, 10 wire fraud, several conspiracies, two counts they were hung on, and one not guilty. Arrangements for sentencing are in progress. He's likely going to be a guest of the Feds for 8-10 years.
     Meanwhile,  ex-governor George Ryan, currently at Terre Haute, was released for a few hours to say goodbye to his wife of over 50 years, Lura Lynn. She had lived with cancer and fibrocystic lung disease, hanging on with teeth and fingernails to see the day when he left prison for good. Her body gave up long before her spirit did. She passed on Monday night. He'll be out in two years, I think.
     Illinois is looking at the dubious distinction of having two former governors behind bars at the same time. I can't think of another state to say that.

    

Decluttering

   Been on a bit of a decluttering rampage the last few days.  Found several bottles of mouthwash that came with from our old house, the one we moved from 13 years ago Labor Day Weekend. Found several coffee canisters that we don't need.
    Decluttered on Facebook, too. Dropped out of several groups I'd been added to without my permission and for very obscure reasons. I don't unfriend unless there's a good reason to do so, such as someone who made personal attacks on several real life friends, or a spammer.
    Interesting theory: that on an energetic level, your house represents you, and clutter represents weight that you want to lose. So will this take a couple of pounds off my thighs? Worth a shot....

Hey, Vancouver, Was That Really Necessary?

    Watched a little of the Stanley Cup final last night. Congrats to both sides on a well-played game. Unfortunately, someone had to lose, and in this case, it was Vancouver. Boston won.
    The disappointing part: rioting. In Vancouver of all places. I woke to reports of smashed windows and overturned cars. Why? Because the Canucks lost. Not because of some lamebrained social policy or a tax increase, but losing a hockey game.
    It garnered attention. I flipped around at the top of the hour. The damage was serious enough that the story bumped Rep. Weiner's porn star friend a couple of notches down the pecking order. And this was over a hockey game.
    Yes, it's a bitter disappointment. But can you imagine what would happen if they'd put that energy towards protesting something more life changing?

Saffire, Karma, and Elizabeth Edwards

      Hee, hee, hee. Are you acquainted with Saffire? A/K/A The Uppity Blueswomen? You should be. They told a lot of truth for a lot of women in their 25 year run. My favorite song? (readers with delicate sensibilities, plug your ears) "Bitch With a Bad Attitude." ("I'm turning you into the IRS; I'm telling the cops where you keep your stash.") It gets played once a year on my NPR station's Mutha's Day blues special (the day before Mothers' Day).
      Hee, hee, hee. You know about Karma, right? As TV sage Earl Hickey put it, "Do bad things, and bad things happen. Do good things, and good things happen."
     Hee, hee, hee. And you know about Elizabeth Edwards, wife of ex-senator John Edwards? The one who passed in December? The one whose final days were an example of grace under fire between her life-altering illness and finding out that the former Senator Edwards had started a relationship with a staffer while she was undergoing treatment for cancer? And had a baby with the staffer? And lied through his teeth about it? And faces a trial for having misused campaign funds to hide his mistress and child?
    Well, one of Elizabeth's loose ends that she was able to tie up before her departure was this  video telling everything that she knew. Her friends have handed it over to prosecutors.
    Hee, hee, hee.

Congratulations, You're a Boy!

    Maude Almighty, here we go again.
    Go to your favorite search engine and enter Rep. Anthony Weiner (D-NY) lewd pics.
    With all due respect, Rep. Weiner, you don't post pics like that in an online album. What made you think that you wouldn't get hacked as you claimed?  You don't send pics like that. You just don't.
     MS in psych aside, I will never understand what goes through the heads of people who feel compelled to take pics of themselves and send them out. It's the high tech version of flashing, nothing more or less. Get kicks from it? As long as both parties are of age and concent,  that's your problem. But sending pictures of your boy parts or girl parts to an unsuspecting recipient is just plain creepy.
     Unemployment, floods, and the fire about to take out the border regions between New Mexico and Arizona. Ok. Rep Weiner, put it away now so that we can focus on these, please.

Tuesday Thoughts

   Trying not to get sucked into the hype over the Casey Anthony trial. You know, the one in Florida with the mother who didn't call 911 for a month when her daughter disappeared? With the defense lawyer who's trying to blame Casey's father and saying that the kid drowned in the swimming pool? Puh-leeze.....

    Nondescript Memorial Day here. I want to remember my mother at the piano, my father in the kitchen, and my three grandparents drinking egg nog. I don't visit graves. They're all at a considerable distance. We went out to lunch, The Spouse played with his tractor, and Oakley and I played fetch. I'd rather have people remember me by staying in the moment and enjoying life. I also have directed a friend who's a retired lawyer to have John Prine's "Please Don't Bury Me" played at the after party thrown by the people who knew me best.

    So. What do I want for lunch today? I'm craving peanut butter. I have some lovely Kashi microwavable meals. Oakley will have kibble and a little yogurt. He's doubled in weight since he came home in February.

    Life goes on.

     

Random Rainy Sunday Thoughts

    If a cat always lands on her feet, and toast always lands buttered side down, what happens if you butter a cat?
    Just had a green sky t-storm pass through. Why we weren't on the t-storm warning I'll never know.
    Oakley's going to be nine months old tomorrow. Brittany and Beagle. And Lab and Great Pyr. Let's call him an Aquataine hound and have done with it. The cute, it makes me squee, likely adult weight of 70 pounds or not.
    Feeling the time warp. I go to Meijer's, a Michigan-based chain where we did most of our shopping when I was a kid. Timelessness. Am I in my teens, am I in college, am I somewhere in the jungle of mid-life? It all blends together as I look at t-shirts.
    Trying to convince The Spouse that Oakley wants a cat for his birthday. Pet ownership would teach him responsibility. The Spouse gives me The Look.
     Let's do this: Palin and Bachmann in '12. We'd have a few years of chaos, but it would get better from there. Our foremothers fought for them? Lady have mercy on us.