I was thinking of the change in my diet over the last 10 months, but that also describes my last 20 years. I've landed in a good place, but it was a bit of a surprise.
Like eliminating corn and dairy from my diet. I started feeling better. But I resisted going gluten-free. Seriously. Like "wheat is for man" serious. I toyed with eating less wheat. But there was always a little going on.
I raged. I grieved. I looked to the bloggers, the celiacs and others for whom, gluten isn't just an annoyance but a serious poison to the system issue. I'm the new kid on the block here and looking to the sages for wisdom and coping skills. I got information-overload, overwhelmed and more depressed. And I grieved and raged some more.
There is no such thing as fast food. Every meal I make is from scratch. The almond milk to make a quick smoothie in the am (oops, forgot to make it tonight-there are almonds soaking in the fridge as I type, bleh) is from scratch. The stuff you can buy can't touch what a good soaking, blender and straining can produce from a handful of almonds. Soymilk? If I buy it there's "stuff" in it. I finally made a great batch before Thanksgiving. The hot cocoa it created was amazing. But I am battling the time. I know. Everyone has to balance their lives. I'm in the midst of the battle. I am not a huge fan of change right now.
But check this out. I've lost nearly 20 pounds in these 10 months. My fingers don't hurt when I press them on the violin strings. I can rest the sole of my foot on my thigh without the pain that distracted the focus when practicing tree pose. My wrist doesn't itch incessantly. The tissue connections at my joints are not so painful. Corn makes me itch. Gluten hurts the ligaments at my knees. I guess I can live without that.
So I will focus on the improvement. And find joy in the journey. Whatever the cost.
These bloggers seem to have a ton more time on their hands to prepare the food they (their family) need. But I certainly appreciate the recipes. I'm making pistachio cookies this weekend!!!
Kelly, Lexie, and Shirley have blogs that got me started.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Shimmy like Sister...
I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate
by Angel Katana on Thursday, September 15, 2011 at 8:44am
I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate
(Piron)
Transcribed from Anna Jones, accompanied by Fats Waller, piano; recorded 6/1923.
From Fats Waller 1922-1926; The Chronogical Classics, 664.
I went to a dance with my sister Kate;
Everybody there thought she danced so great;
I realized a thing or two,
When I got wise to something new:
When I looked at Kate, she was in a trance,
And then I knew it was in her dance;
All the boys are going wild
Over sister Katie's style.
Oh, I wish I could I shimmy like my sister Kate;
She shimmies like a jelly on a plate.
My mama wanted to know last night,
What makes the boys think Kate's so nice.
Now all the boys in the neighborhood,
They know that she can shimmy and it's understood;
I know that I'm late, but I'll be up-to-date
When I shimmy like my sister Kate.
I mean, when I shimmy like my sister Kate.
Now I can shimmy like my sister Kate,
I know that I'm real late,
I think I'll do a real shimmy dance,
Dancing like my sister Kate,
Sweet papa, just like my sister Kate.
(Piron)
Transcribed from Anna Jones, accompanied by Fats Waller, piano; recorded 6/1923.
From Fats Waller 1922-1926; The Chronogical Classics, 664.
I went to a dance with my sister Kate;
Everybody there thought she danced so great;
I realized a thing or two,
When I got wise to something new:
When I looked at Kate, she was in a trance,
And then I knew it was in her dance;
All the boys are going wild
Over sister Katie's style.
Oh, I wish I could I shimmy like my sister Kate;
She shimmies like a jelly on a plate.
My mama wanted to know last night,
What makes the boys think Kate's so nice.
Now all the boys in the neighborhood,
They know that she can shimmy and it's understood;
I know that I'm late, but I'll be up-to-date
When I shimmy like my sister Kate.
I mean, when I shimmy like my sister Kate.
Now I can shimmy like my sister Kate,
I know that I'm real late,
I think I'll do a real shimmy dance,
Dancing like my sister Kate,
Sweet papa, just like my sister Kate.
Reflections on Aging
from Sunday, September 27, 2009 at 2:55pm
I don't feel old when I see the fine lines or grey hair; I don't feel old when I see the brown spots on my wrists or skin that is beginning to look like my mother's. I just don't feel old. My kids are all out of high school; does that make me old. I don't think so. Doesn't seem like it. So I don't feel or look old. Until yesterday.
I got to go to Provo to attend a BYU game. I parked in Helaman Halls parking (no sticker required on Sat) early. We used to park there, walk by the track to the stadium...good times, good times. I walked up to campus. My, how it's changed!!! Walked on the sidewalk on the hill where I met one of my college loves, sigh. I walked up that hill every day as a freshman. I lived in Helaman Halls. Right over there in Merrill Hall (Merrill Marvels/A Wonder toBehold Be Held...now it a men's dorm according to Brooke Ford). There is the Admin bldg, same as ever, and whatever building that was that I had some English class in. I have gone back 30 years in mere minutes. And feel so young again. And remember who I was and what I went through and what I learned. And crash, I FEEL OLD...I AM OLD!!! These little punks walking don't see what I'm seeing. They see me old. And some of the freshman are younger than my baby! I actually misted up. Nostalgia first. Then the realization...I'M OLD. Certainly not as young as I think I am. So to prove I really am not so old, I prepare to shortcut down a hill. Allegra Bel convinces me not to...but I'm pretty sure the boys do. But then I find a place where I can go down to the parking lot. But then Allegra Bel is, "Careful Aunt Edonna!" Puleeze! You're not helping any!!!
I had such a nice time at the game. The band still marching the flowing soflty moves...which I Never liked...I like the precision marching...And I actually got to sit on the west side, back to the sun, nice. Next year, Homecoming.
I'm still not really old.
I got to go to Provo to attend a BYU game. I parked in Helaman Halls parking (no sticker required on Sat) early. We used to park there, walk by the track to the stadium...good times, good times. I walked up to campus. My, how it's changed!!! Walked on the sidewalk on the hill where I met one of my college loves, sigh. I walked up that hill every day as a freshman. I lived in Helaman Halls. Right over there in Merrill Hall (Merrill Marvels/A Wonder to
I had such a nice time at the game. The band still marching the flowing soflty moves...which I Never liked...I like the precision marching...And I actually got to sit on the west side, back to the sun, nice. Next year, Homecoming.
I'm still not really old.
Copied from Facebook
No one really shares the awful stuff
by Edonna L Flake on Thursday, December 17, 2009 at 6:20pm
Our comments are thought provoking. Joyful. Silly. Entertaining. Informative. Or sometimes just too much information, but not from my friends.
Bonnie shared the news that Danny finally succumbed to cancer. That's a biggie. Babies get sick. We get frustrated at work or school. People drive stupid looking cars. School is beginning/ending/on break. Etc.
But who really shares the tragedies of their lives. I am really quite certain that I am not alone in experiencing painful learning experiences. But how do I post the sorrow and pain over my kid's choice/behavior.
Going out with friends, good friends from Lakewood High...Hi how are you? Fine, I got a sinus infections from sobbing over my son. How are you?
And DD tried to explain that you can't send stamps to jail. Stupid naive me. Apparently someone figured out you can hide bad stuff under a stamp.
So, do we not care about one another. I know I weep with/for my friends. Rejoice with them. Lend an ear. So we care. Is it too public? Are we too private with our pain? Is it just not to share? I learned the long hard way about talking too much with just anyone after my divorce. The filter was damaged. Why do I think I need to say it? idk Why burden someone else.
I'm rambling. I'm sick. I'm tired. I'm done. And it's probably too much information for some. I apologize.
Bonnie shared the news that Danny finally succumbed to cancer. That's a biggie. Babies get sick. We get frustrated at work or school. People drive stupid looking cars. School is beginning/ending/on break. Etc.
But who really shares the tragedies of their lives. I am really quite certain that I am not alone in experiencing painful learning experiences. But how do I post the sorrow and pain over my kid's choice/behavior.
Going out with friends, good friends from Lakewood High...Hi how are you? Fine, I got a sinus infections from sobbing over my son. How are you?
And DD tried to explain that you can't send stamps to jail. Stupid naive me. Apparently someone figured out you can hide bad stuff under a stamp.
So, do we not care about one another. I know I weep with/for my friends. Rejoice with them. Lend an ear. So we care. Is it too public? Are we too private with our pain? Is it just not to share? I learned the long hard way about talking too much with just anyone after my divorce. The filter was damaged. Why do I think I need to say it? idk Why burden someone else.
I'm rambling. I'm sick. I'm tired. I'm done. And it's probably too much information for some. I apologize.
Special delivery to Spokane
from Thursday, December 24, 2009 at 3:47pm
I wanted to make my sister a table top water fountain for Christmas. After some fits and starts getting a design, I figured out that the rocks I got and the amount of rocks were heavier than I originally planned. And upon further pondering, I realized I had qualms about boxing up rocks and paying to send them through the mail. After all, Trina has rocks in her yard. Really, paying for a heavy box of rocks made no sense to me. I considered sending a gift card to Home Depot to get her own (or wash the ones from the yard.) Ben suggested I personally deliver them. The "seats available" looked good so off I went.
I put the pot in with my clothes, wrapped with the t-shirt and socks. I double bagged the rocks and put them in the same duffel. I wondered if TSA would consider them dangerous. I mean, Goliath died.
Sure enough. I watched my duffel go through the x-ray. I saw what she saw on that screen. I saw the look on her face. And was not surprised when she pulled my duffel off the belt and informed me that she was taking a look inside. I told her to look under the jeans. The look on her face was wonderful. Yes, there really were rocks in there. She said it did look a little funny on the screen. I knew that.
I put the fountain together for Trina last night. Brooke has lived in dorms and apartments for 1 1/2 years at college. I'm not sure if that experience lead to her reaction to the gurgling and trickling that came from the fountain as it sat on the counter and we watched BYU basketball, interspersed with Utah football. Brooke observed that it sounded like someone taking care of business in the bathroom. Then she got up and went to the bathroom herself. (I think she was getting ready to work out, but the timing was more than coincidental?)
Rachel came in from a day on the slopes with friends.
I felt so lucky to sit with that "boring" family. Stephan came home; Trina, the girls and I had just finished eating. The something bowl was on and Utah was playing. So everyone was just sitting together. Boring is nice. Even peaceful.
Trina had called back after I asked if I could come. She was remembering events from the previous visit (not her fault). I told her I really just wanted to sit quietly in a warm safe place. The Ford home is that.
I put the pot in with my clothes, wrapped with the t-shirt and socks. I double bagged the rocks and put them in the same duffel. I wondered if TSA would consider them dangerous. I mean, Goliath died.
Sure enough. I watched my duffel go through the x-ray. I saw what she saw on that screen. I saw the look on her face. And was not surprised when she pulled my duffel off the belt and informed me that she was taking a look inside. I told her to look under the jeans. The look on her face was wonderful. Yes, there really were rocks in there. She said it did look a little funny on the screen. I knew that.
I put the fountain together for Trina last night. Brooke has lived in dorms and apartments for 1 1/2 years at college. I'm not sure if that experience lead to her reaction to the gurgling and trickling that came from the fountain as it sat on the counter and we watched BYU basketball, interspersed with Utah football. Brooke observed that it sounded like someone taking care of business in the bathroom. Then she got up and went to the bathroom herself. (I think she was getting ready to work out, but the timing was more than coincidental?)
Rachel came in from a day on the slopes with friends.
I felt so lucky to sit with that "boring" family. Stephan came home; Trina, the girls and I had just finished eating. The something bowl was on and Utah was playing. So everyone was just sitting together. Boring is nice. Even peaceful.
Trina had called back after I asked if I could come. She was remembering events from the previous visit (not her fault). I told her I really just wanted to sit quietly in a warm safe place. The Ford home is that.
1st Night in Philly
from Friday, January 1, 2010 at 10:31am
I did not jump up on the #10 trolley in time. Taylor srung aboard. I didn't know to knock or pound or stick my foot in to keep the door open. And off it went, Taylor was just shrugging his shoulders with a smirk.
I didn't even remember what trolley had just left Market & 30th St station. I was just going to follow Taylor. He also knew the stop, as close to 37th Ave as possible. I wondered if I should get scared for my safety. Another trolley came in and out. I asked a group of teenage boys what trolley had left. They knew it was 10 which sounded familiar. Then I waited for the next #10, which was a while in coming.
I hoped Taylor would get off on the next stop and wait for me. Nope. And not the next one.
There was no phone service being several layers underground. And my phone was on yellow bars at that.
So when I heard 36th street stop, it sounded good and I got off. It was dark. I have no idea if this is a good neighborhood or not. But no one is on the street anyways. I can see a few lights in windows of street level stores.
I called Taylor; he was at 38th street and we wanted 37th street so we walked toward each other.
I had made reservation at a B&B in University City, it turned out, near Drexel Univ. I checked in and we walked back to a Thai restaurant that I had passed and was recommended by Janet, the innkeeper. She also said that I could call for a free escort service (not the kind that 1st comes to mind), but a real one where someone will come out and walk you or follow on a bike.
My son is a good sport. I didn't get out the door in time to go to Independence Hall before I met him after work. I drug him along as I went to see for real what I used to go see at Knott's Berry Farm. It's pretty much that last place he would visit in Philadelphia.
I had a nice visit with Taylor. And I am secure that he has warm outerwear now.
I didn't even remember what trolley had just left Market & 30th St station. I was just going to follow Taylor. He also knew the stop, as close to 37th Ave as possible. I wondered if I should get scared for my safety. Another trolley came in and out. I asked a group of teenage boys what trolley had left. They knew it was 10 which sounded familiar. Then I waited for the next #10, which was a while in coming.
I hoped Taylor would get off on the next stop and wait for me. Nope. And not the next one.
There was no phone service being several layers underground. And my phone was on yellow bars at that.
So when I heard 36th street stop, it sounded good and I got off. It was dark. I have no idea if this is a good neighborhood or not. But no one is on the street anyways. I can see a few lights in windows of street level stores.
I called Taylor; he was at 38th street and we wanted 37th street so we walked toward each other.
I had made reservation at a B&B in University City, it turned out, near Drexel Univ. I checked in and we walked back to a Thai restaurant that I had passed and was recommended by Janet, the innkeeper. She also said that I could call for a free escort service (not the kind that 1st comes to mind), but a real one where someone will come out and walk you or follow on a bike.
My son is a good sport. I didn't get out the door in time to go to Independence Hall before I met him after work. I drug him along as I went to see for real what I used to go see at Knott's Berry Farm. It's pretty much that last place he would visit in Philadelphia.
I had a nice visit with Taylor. And I am secure that he has warm outerwear now.
Reason #103 I love to teach!
From April 22, 2010
I gave the students the materials to play with inertia. One of the activities involved a pint-sized plastic milk bottle, a 10" embroidery hoop and 4 hex nuts. They stand the hoop at the opening of the bottle and balance a hex nut at the top and try to grab the hoop away and let the hex nut fall into the bottle. Notice how I continually call these "hex nuts". The record today was 8 hex nuts dropped in at once; second place was 5 at a time.
My first two classes are small, and I had enough plastic bottles for 6 groups. But the next class needed materials for 7 groups. The 7th hoop was on the table so the 7th group got it. They asked me for the other supplies, and I got out a graduated cylinder and gave it to them. I returned to the front of the room, continued to monitor the progress, and grade notebooks.
From the back of the room over the din and the clamor of activity, I hear, "Miss, I have no nuts!" I looked up. Not a soul was reacting. Except the kid in the back with the red shirt and redder face. His head was cradled in his arms. I quietly walked back and asked him if I heard what I thought I heard. He repeated it. So I have him some HEX nuts.
I snorted and chuckled for the rest of the day.
When I told the story to my last class, only 2 kids laughed. Apparently the rest of them have not learned enough English. So, being a class I trust, I taught them some more English. I did warn them that if they used it in front of me, I would write a referral. When I used the word "testicles" I got more reaction. Apparently some of them know anatomy and physiology terms. And a few more got how funny the situation was.
I love my students!!
I gave the students the materials to play with inertia. One of the activities involved a pint-sized plastic milk bottle, a 10" embroidery hoop and 4 hex nuts. They stand the hoop at the opening of the bottle and balance a hex nut at the top and try to grab the hoop away and let the hex nut fall into the bottle. Notice how I continually call these "hex nuts". The record today was 8 hex nuts dropped in at once; second place was 5 at a time.
My first two classes are small, and I had enough plastic bottles for 6 groups. But the next class needed materials for 7 groups. The 7th hoop was on the table so the 7th group got it. They asked me for the other supplies, and I got out a graduated cylinder and gave it to them. I returned to the front of the room, continued to monitor the progress, and grade notebooks.
From the back of the room over the din and the clamor of activity, I hear, "Miss, I have no nuts!" I looked up. Not a soul was reacting. Except the kid in the back with the red shirt and redder face. His head was cradled in his arms. I quietly walked back and asked him if I heard what I thought I heard. He repeated it. So I have him some HEX nuts.
I snorted and chuckled for the rest of the day.
When I told the story to my last class, only 2 kids laughed. Apparently the rest of them have not learned enough English. So, being a class I trust, I taught them some more English. I did warn them that if they used it in front of me, I would write a referral. When I used the word "testicles" I got more reaction. Apparently some of them know anatomy and physiology terms. And a few more got how funny the situation was.
I love my students!!
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