Shocked and Appalled

Man...I WISH that was my belly...

 I've been pretty public about my struggles with my weight and my desire to shed a few (more than a few) pounds. I generally scan the internet to look for safe, healthy recipes and diet plans to provide a little extra inspiration. I try to stick to the legitimate sites; you know there are some CRAAAZY weight loss techniques floating around the internet!

I've always liked to consider Livestrong.com a legitimate site. Who here DOESN'T know who Lance Armstrong is, and is unfamiliar with the distinctive yellow wristband? I think Lance's achievements, both on and off the bike, are well known around the world (and we'll avoid the discussion of steroid use for the sake of me making a point)

Imagine my horror to find a shocking and dangerous article hosted by Livestrong.com. How To Lose The Most Weight In The Shortest Amount Of Time. Since I'm sure the complaints are flying in, and the website will pull this article momentarily, let me break down their "recommended" steps to lose weight quickly.

1. Take a fat burning supplement, preferably one with ephedra. 
2. Drink black coffee or strong green tea immediately before working out.
3. Take sports supplements like whey protein.
4. Drink water. A gallon daily, at least. 
5. Take Acai Berry to cleanse your toxins.
6. Stay active, doing 30 minutes of exercise daily. 
7. Don't eat if you're not hungry.

My mind is blown.

1. Ephedra. EPHEDRA? You mean the stuff that is linked to a high rate of side effects and DEATH? The same ephedra that the FDA banned in 2004, and upheld the ban on in 2006? Even labels that say "legal ephedra" don't actually contain ephedra in it's real form. They're synthetic or herbal. Ephedra is NOT legal in the US. Is Livestrong suggesting that I purchase my supplements online from an overseas retailer? 
2. Black coffee...green tea...right before a workout. Because every fitness instructor I've ever had has 32oz of black coffee beside them...oh. Wait. No. That was water. I'll be over here, NOT having a heart attack from the combination of ephedra and black coffee right before a high-intensity workout. 
3. I don't really have a problem with the sports supplements, if they're the healthy ones used properly.
4. Okay, can we please bury this myth? Yes, water is good. Yes, drink lots. BUT, this big study that everyone quotes saying "64 oz of water is needed daily" ALSO says that we gain a large amount of this water through the food that we eat. But, no one remembers to tack on that part. Drink water, it's good for you. But there's no need to spend your day in the bathroom, either. 
5. ACAI BERRY? You mean, the scam that's going around the internet and health sites? The one that has NO legitimate study proving that it does ANY good at all? Yes, it has antioxidant properties. So does pomegranate and blueberries, and you don't pay $30 a bottle for them. 
6. Ya think? Working out can help me lose weight? You don't say!
7. Oh. Really. Never heard that before. Thanks! 

Really, the whole point of the article is to tell you to do everything you KNOW you're supposed to be doing to live a healthy lifestyle, but take some ephedra, caffeine, and worthless-but-expensive supplements, too.

Um. No.

I want to lose weight. But I don't want the next challenge I face to involve a hospital room and a crash cart; I LIKE my heart beating on its own, thanks.

I'm SHOCKED that Lance Armstrong would even allow his name or foundation to be associated with something so irresponsible.

Cross Livestrong.com off of my checklist.

Great American Backyard Campout

 So, what are YOU doing tonight? I'll tell you what I'M doing; I'm camping out in my backyard as part of the National Wildlife Federation's: Great American Backyard Campout.

Every year, the National Wildlife Federation sponsors one night where thousands of people around America gather together in backyards, parks, campgrounds, community centers, ANYWHERE, for a great cause; connecting the youth of America with the outdoors and raising money for a great cause.

National Wildlife Federation uses 80 cents of every dollar you raise for the Great American Backyard Campout to support programs that address the problem of America's indoor childhood and the health risks associated with these. Your funds are used to establish and maintain programs to make outdoor time a priority to protect children’s health and ensure their readiness to learn.

Anyone that's been around me for any length of time knows how much I love to camp. Being outdoors, hearing the crickets at night, smelling the campfire, tasting the smores, listening to my friends singing and sharing stories...that's about as close to heaven as I can get. Now, I get to do it in support of a great organization.

For more information on the Great American Backyard Campout, visit the official website at the National Wildlife Federation.

Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop: Between Once Upon A Time And The End

 
Write a poem about a photo you took last week. Share both! 

 
Paper trails grow endlessly with more important things to do. 

Missions I've been handed, footsteps I must pursue. 

But for now;

 

There are dragons that need slaying,

wizards that need saving

There are mountains that need moving,

and shattered hearts that need gluing.

There are Fellowships that need traveling,

and plots that need unraveling. 

There are names that need giving,

a thousand adventures that need living,

The world around me, I promise, will keep,

I can get through 30 chapters before I need sleep. 

So if you're wondering where I've been,

I'm between 'Once Upon A Time' and 'The End'.

 

May I Have Your Attention Please?

I know that we just started summer and all, and I'm loving the warmth, but...well...I have something I need to say.

As of the time of this blog posting...

...

You're welcome.

P.S. For a more accurate countdown, visit Christmas Countdown 2011

Tuesday Teatime: The Sweetness of Summer

Summer. It's finally here.

Well, according to the calendar, anyway. Today is the Summer Solstice, the official first day of summer, and the longest day of the year.

Actually, we had a BEAUTIFUL day here. I couldn't have asked for a more gorgeous start to the season of sunshine. Warm, bright, brilliant, and in the upper 70s. Okay, I realize that for some of you, that's a chilly day, but for us in the Pacific Northwest, that's a most welcome change.

Ah, summer.It's the time to curl up in the porch swing, swaying in the much welcome breeze cutting through the muggy air. It's the sound of ice clinking in the jam jar, sweet tea swirling within. It's the taste of the sweet strawberries, tart cherries, and the aroma of cocoa butter, baby oil, and suntan lotion.

Something about the summer makes me crave a good book. I think it goes back to my college days where I'd spend 9 months of the year buried in textbooks, and once released, all I wanted to do was wrap myself up in an enjoyable adventure, found in the many stack of dusty paperbacks that had gone untouched for 2/3 of a year.

I started The Hunger Games. Everyone had been talking about it so much, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about before the movie came out. By the time I'd gotten 1/2 through, I was addicted. See, the downside of owning a Nook, or any e-reader for that matter, is that you can immediately download the next book in the series. There's no car trips or finding time to go to the bookstore involved. Two minutes after I'd closed The Hunger Games, I had Catching Fire downloaded. I finished that within a day, and started (and finished!) Mockingjay the following day.

I've jumped back into the Sookie Stackhouse Southern Vampires Series, which if you've never heard of them, are the books that True Blood is based on. True vampires that drink real blood, not sparkly ones that chase rabbits. I'm also making it a mission to reread every Harry Potter book because ::gasp:: The Deathly Hallows Part Two is less than a month away!!! Can you believe it!? Who here has already squealed AND cried over the trailer? ::waves hand madly in the air::

In the spirit of the lazy, carefree, sweet days of summer, this week's tea is Sweet Cherry Rooibus. It's a crisp, rich, red tea which smells of freshly-picked bing cherries the moment its jar is opened. The flavor is sweet and delightful, and poured over ice, it's the perfect refreshing alternative to plain old sweetened sun tea. I've been told that a sprig of fresh mint leaves would be the perfect addition to the glass, but I have yet to try it.

Let's raise a glass to you, wonderful friends, and the brilliant summer months to come! 

Tea of the Day: Sweet Cherry Rooibus
Teatime Topic: What's on YOUR summer reading list?

A Long Weekend

I'm exhausted after a long day, but I'm sitting in my mom's room, pug curled in my lap sleeping, and the news is on. Something about a flood in China and dramatic footage of a rescue involving a bulldozer. The report is mainly background filler as I chat with my mom, who is in an amazingly grumpy mood. Grumpier than normal, which is actually unusual because we have a house full of people. 14 (?) relatives stopped by for Father's Day; three of mom's sisters, their spouses, and children. I'd figured the increased company would have been a mood booster for her, but instead, every sentence out of her mouth is filled with disdain and frustration.

Finally, I've had enough.

"What is going ON with you today?" I ask, shaking my head. "You're just grumpier than sin."

She turns her head to look at me, and I can see her thinking through her words.

"Yes." She sighs dramatically. "It's all these people."

"All these people?" I ask. "But I thought you'd like to see all your relatives? I know they wanted to see you, that's why they're here."

"But I didn't think it would be ALL these people!" She has the tone where I know that all these people means something different to her. I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to get to the heart of the matter.

"Too many, huh? Just too busy in the house? Are you getting tired?"

"Well..." she looks up at me. "I don't like this. All these people."

"But they're here to see you and say hello. And I know it's been awhile since you've gotten to see some of them." I take a breath and try a different tact. "Why else would they be here? Why do you think they're here?"

"Oh, they're here for a variety of reasons." A warning flag raises in my head.

"And what reasons do you think they might have?" I tentatively press further.

"Because I'm dying."

Her words hang in the air for a minute and my brain sputters, then stops completely. Frantically I grasp at thoughts, trying to find one that's appropriate to fill the silence, something to offer comfort, something compassionate. Goddamn it, why isn't there a book of things to say?! I can't do this on my own!

It's in those moments of silence that the clarity comes, and I know why she's been so cranky for two days. She knows.

My dad and I have talked about it for months; how people are suddenly coming out of the woodwork to call, come over, Skype. There's a good chance that she doesn't have a lot of time left, and everyone's doing their "duty". Stop by, spend time with the sick person, try to make up for all the time that you've missed in an effort to make yourself feel better. I've watched people doing this for months, but I'd hoped it would escape her notice.

It hasn't.

Suddenly, our conversation has taken a turn into the morbid. We talk about other reasons that people could have come to see her, but in the end it comes back to the same one. She's dying. She feels like an obligation. People didn't come to visit her because they love her, they came to say goodbye.

Anyone who's worked with critically ill or terminally ill patients knows the power a positive attitude can have on their recovery. For the most part, my mom has been optimistic about her treatment. She's made strides that hospice didn't think she was going to be able to, even though the doctors continue to say that she has "unrealistic expectations" for her recovery. Now...I don't know. This could be a setback for her. I hope against hope that it's not, but...

I already know that someone in my family is going to read this blog and spread the word. That's how it works. A few family members know where I post. I'm sure that defenses are going to raise, and accusations and rebuttals will be forthcoming of "oh, I never!... I didn't mean!... I just came to say hello! To be nice!"

But the truth is, it doesn't matter. Intentions may have been entirely innocent and honorable. The impression my mother got, however, was something else.

If I could say one thing to everyone dealing with losing a loved one, it's the one lesson that I'm struggling, STRUGGLING, to learn for myself.

It's not ABOUT you and how YOU feel about losing them.

It's about THEM.

Sunday Confessions: Inside my Purse

I saw this meme going around blogger awhile back, and thought it was the coolest thing.  

Open up your purse, take a picture of what's inside, and share it.

Unfortunately, I've just never gotten around to it before. However, trading out one purse for the other brought everything out anyway, so I figured, why wait?

So, without further ado, here's a step inside my world; my purse and everything that I carry with me at every moment of the day.

1. Journal I'm ashamed to admit how many journals, notebooks, and blank books I have around. Most of them are only half full, because I love the feel of a clean slate. I always have at least one with me.

2. My Nook Books, books, and more books. I'm a bookworm, and I'm not even going to try to hide it. Currently reading Sookie Stackhouse #2, Living Dead in Dallas.

3. Coffee Caffeine is my life force. Enough said.

4. Planner Because if I didn't write it down, I'd be absolutely lost.

5. Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone J.K. Rowling is living in the dark ages and has yet to give permission to make ebooks of the series. So, in my attempt to reread the series, I have to lug around the paper copy.

6. Winchester Knife You just never know when you'll need a sharp, pointy object.When I needed to cut rope to make a tarp shelter, you won't believe how glad I was to have it!

7. Sleigh Ride Hand Lotion It's actually an Apple-y Spice scent, and my cousin gave it to me for Christmas. Every time I use it, I think of her.

8. Colored Pens Yes, this is the total amount of pens that I have in my purse at any given moment. Every color of the rainbow and then some. Inspiration comes in all shades.

9. Lip Color I'm a complete addict. I have every shade and flavor, and I can't stop from buying more.

10. Physicians Formula Bamboo Powder Foundation Sometimes, you need a little touchup.

11. My Wallet Um, yeah. Do you need an explanation why this is in my purse?

12. Cover Girl Lash Blast Mascara in Brownish Black A girl can go a long way with a little power, mascara, and lipcolor, you know?

13. My Palm Centro My phone, my lifeline. My connection to the outside world. My electronic leash.

14. Keys Unlocking the part of my world that's NOT in my purse. Note that the gorgeous butterfly keyring is from my dear friend, and was handmade as part of a charity project.

15. Zune and iPod Yes, two mp3 players are a necessity in my world. The external drive crashed awhile back, and I lost music that I can only find on my Zune. The iPod is continually changed out and remixed weekly.

16. Purse A sidestrap mini backpack from REI. Big enough to carry everything above, yet small enough to carry everywhere.

17. Camera (not pictured for obvious reasons) I never, ever, go anywhere without my camera. I like capturing life one frame at a time

Ta-Da! Now you know!

What did I LEARN from this little experiment? I have WAY too many pens and containers of lipgloss in my purse! But, looking through all of them, I couldn't part with a single one. I think I have two major addictions in life; pens and lip color. Three if you count my notebook obsession. But, considering the grand scheme of things, I could think of worse addictions to have!

Silent Saturday

Red Writing Hood: The Porcelain Doll

Physical beauty.

 It can open doors – and can also shut them. 

Write a scene in which a physically beautiful character is somehow impacted by that trait.

Red ribbons, red ribbons. Everywhere Emma...er, Emelia Constance Elizabeth Dufresne looked, she saw red ribbons. Woven through the banisters, perching on the backs of chairs, tied neatly into pretty bows around tightly coiled ringlets. It seemed the whole world had gone black and white and red. Emma was reminded of a retouched photograph she had seen at the farmers market, a young couple, captured in black and white, kissing underneath a torrent of pouring rain. The only sign of life in the photo was the brilliant red umbrella which sheltered them from the storm.

Emma had stared at the photo for a long while, slipping into the untold story. Who were these strangers who braved the storm and what had led them out into this dark night? Why this moment, why this kiss? Why not wait until they'd found the safety of a warm room to lock their lips together? Was the umbrella only an illusion, a shadow from an alternate universe, captured on film, yet unable to be captured in the hand of the lovers it was intended to shelter?

With a deep breath, she smoothed her hands over the front of her gown, tentatively looking up into the mirror. Her reflection was not her own. Crimson hair, normally running long and wild, had been tamed, teased, curled, pinned, and frozen in place with an awful smelling aerosol spray. Her skin had been primed and powdered until it resembled fine china. Her eyes...her eyes were hers, that she knew, but they had been lined with kohl, the lashes curled, extensions added, and a shimmery frost glazed under the brow bone.

She had expected the comforting familiar of her own image. What she saw was someone else's porcelain doll.

"It will be good for you," her mother had assured her in hushed tones, "the Barrie's winter gala is the perfect place for a fresh start." She had gripped Emma's hands with a ferocity that bordered on painful. ""The Lancaster's son is home from college, he always had a thing for you, you know. Though I don't know why," she scoffed "with how you've been acting lately. You know, after everything we've done for you, everything opportunity you've been offered, I simply cannot understand...."

Emma let her mother's voice fade into the background. How she had been acting lately... For the past three years, Emma had been locked in her bedroom nearly every moment she could spare. Not doing anything illicit, oh no. Not unless you counted the miles of canvas, rainbow of oils, and the vast expanses of natural brushes. For Emma, the world was full of magic just daring her to capture it on canvas, and she dreamed of ivy halls and talented professors who could show her exactly how to make it happen. She'd come so close...

But that was all over now.

No university awaited her in the fall. Despite months of pleas, her mother remained unrelenting; no daughter of the Dufresne family was going to do anything as silly as become an artist. Who married artists? Certainly not anyone of any means! Her father refused to come to her aid, and the university...well. Scholarships were intended for those of less social status.

Emma caught a breath, letting her eyes relax as she stared into the mirror. With the colors of her gown and makeup blurred before her, she almost looked like a painting herself. Perhaps a Monet.

She took a step back, unsteady on her new heels. No. No masters, no vibrant colors and blends on canvas. She had become her own work of art, her own Mona Lisa with the secret smile, her own half of the couple in the rainstorm.

Beautiful. Captivating. And yet, hiding beneath the surface.

Pants on Fire...

 

Have you seen this photo? Angelina Jolie has reportedly been paid 10 million USD to promote Louis Vuitton. Which, good for her. If she's going to donate $500,000 to tornado relief, as well as countless other causes, girl needs to make a dollar. No problem there.  

But the Louis Vuitton folks are expecting us to believe that Ms. Jolie is wearing clothes from her home closet, is posing with her own LV bag, and has opted to appear with no makeup on. 

I'm sorry....what? 

Okay, look. I buy the LV bag thing. According to several other sources online, she was photographed with this bag a few years ago, and it's since gone out of production. But come on...her own clothes? Maybe. It's a stretch, but maybe, just maybe, she has that perfectly clean, fitted, sexy but not inappropriately so attire in her closet. I think it's far more likely that she picked it up from her stylist before the shoot, but hey. Who am I to judge. 

But come on. 

No makeup? 

NO MAKEUP?

This isn't even a very large photo, and I CAN SEE THE EYESHADOW FROM HERE!  

Maybe it's true, maybe she wasn't wearing any makeup on the set. Maybe they airbrushed it in afterwards by contracting with some talented graphic artist. So TECHNICALLY, she appeared without makeup. 

But isn't it highly irresponsible, and doesn't it perpetuate the already impossible American fashion beauty standard but putting up highly edited photos, and then proclaiming that it's all natural? Come on, LV. We may be a ridiculously fickle consumer base...

but we're not idiots.

Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop: Confessions of a Bad Camp Counselor

This week's writing prompt from Mama Kat's asks us to write about a summer camp memory.

Ah, summer camp. For most parents, it's a breath of fresh air, a place to send your kids for a few weeks to reclaim your sanity. You write your lil' pumpkin's name in all of their shirts and undies in smelly black sharpie, meticulously check off the pre-made "Bring To Camp With You" checklist so courteously provided by the camp of choice, slather your angel in SPF40 and load them on the bus. As the bus pulls off, you breath a sigh of contentment, knowing that your sweet baby is  bound for a childhood Eden to be cared for by the tender loving hands of specially trained camp counselors who will love and cherish them until they return to your own arm. 

Um. 

About that. 

I walked into the rectory, glancing at my watch, surprised that the place was still empty. (Wow, I'm early for once? Hot damn! Er...) I looked up at the cross on the wall. (Sorry about that, Jesus.) I stretched out across a row of chairs and pulled  out a notebook and pen, doodling on the page as I wait. I don't have to wait too long. A short, heavy, balding man approached me, offering his hand. I introduced myself and mentioned that I was here the CIT program. (Counselor In Training - your first summer is spent in training under the supervision of another counselor, and you get your own cabin of campers the following summer.) The man raised an eyebrow at me. 

"CIT?" He looked down at his clipboard. "It says here that you're a full counselor. I've got a group of 10-11 year olds assigned to you."

"Um.." I blinked. "I think there's been a mistake. I've never even attended this summer camp as a camper, I just volunteered to do this through my church."

He let out a heavy sigh. "Well...the campers are due in an hour, and I don't have another person to fill your place. Do you think you can handle it?"

What could I say? I swallowed deep. "Sure." I put on my bravest smile. "I help out in youth group all the time, it'll be a piece of cake!"

Later that night, after I'd finally tucked my campers into bed, dried the 'I'm away from home and want my mommy!" tears, located the teddy bear that had gone missing and somehow wound up in the lunchroom, and replaced two forgotten toothbrushes, I slid into my sleeping bag and leaned back against the pillow. Listening to the kids breathing around me, I seriously questioned my sanity. My CIT turned out to be no better than the campers, for all the help she was offering me. I had NO idea what I was doing, but hey, the kids were having fun and I'd yet to have anyone go to the infirmary, so as a counselor, I was a success, right? 

Then came the gentle tapping on the window. I glanced around the room and quietly climbed out of bed, sliding open the pane of glass. 

"Hello?" I whispered to the darkness. 

"Scarlett?" The darkness whispered back. Okay, maybe it wasn't the darkness. It may or may not have been the cute guy's 13-14 counselor with the curly brown hair and charming smile, inviting me out for a little bit of fun. We'll call him Jake* I glanced back over my shoulder at my sleeping campers. They'd be fine, right? Besides, they had a CIT (worthless as she was) with them, and if someone got hurt, well, another counselor would hear the crying, right? Didn't I deserve a break, too? I wasn't even getting paid for this, not to MENTION this wasn't the job I'd signed on for! With a final nod of my head, I was out the window and running across the grass.

Jake grabbed my hand and pulled me under the cluster of picnic tables in the field where we were greeted by Lexi*, Emma*, Nate*, and Brandon*.  All of whom were counselors. Between us, we'd left about 60 kids between the ages of 6 and 14 unattended. Hey, come on, we were only 15 ourselves, what do you expect? 

That night is a blur. Somehow, we made ourselves a goal of sneaking into every camp facility and leaving a mark. Without getting caught, of course. No one had done it before. We would be legends. Now, what would be our proof? From his pocket, Jake produced a handful of balloons. In the morning, the camp wouldn't know what to make of the mysterious balloon that had magically appeared in the dead center of every room. 

Okay, okay. We weren't exactly rebels here, but it was a church camp. We had limited means. 

We broke into the gym and left a pile of balls topped with a balloon in the center of the court. 

We broke in (okay, it was unlocked) to the cafeteria, collected all the silverware bins on the center table and topped it with a balloon. 

We tossed balloons into the pool. 

We thumbtacked balloons to the benches in the amphitheater. 

We had a water balloon fight in the center of the ball field, ducking out of the way of the headlights of passing cars. 

In a rare moment of clarity, we decided that the horses probably wouldn't appreciate midnight visitors, so we made a last minute amendment to our goal and left the stables alone.

At the end of the night, we slid back underneath our picnic tables to say goodbye and then raced back to our cabins just as the sun crept over the horizon. I slipped back into my cabin window, grateful that everyone was snuggled back into their beds. Just before I crawled back under the covers, a tap came at the window. 

I slid the window open. Without a word, Jake leaned over the windowsill and placed a hand on my cheek, and kissed me. 

Then, he was gone. 

A short time (MUCH too short) later, I'd gotten my campers up, dressed and ushered them into the cafeteria for breakfast. Word had spread around camp, and the rumors of the origins of the mysterious balloon culprits were circulating, but no one had a clue who actually did it. Satisfied that we'd gotten off scott-free, I dug into my pancakes. Then, a little voice came from across the table. 

"Where did you go last night?" Emily, my littlest camper looked at me. 

"No...nowhere?" I did my best to look confused. 

"Yuh-huh." She set her jaw. "I got up for water and you were GONE." 

"Uh, you must have been dreaming." I glanced around at the suddenly silent table. "I was there the whole night." Inwardly, I willed the other counselors, the GOOD counselors, the ones who hadn't left their kids alone, to stop looking at me with such disdain. 

"No, I wasn't. I was not dreaming." She was adamant. 

"Um, well..." I desperately looked over at Jake for rescue. "I don't know what to tell you, I was there."

"Hey, Emily?" I heard Jake's voice cutting off Emily's reply. I turned to see him holding up a bowl of cereal - Lucky Charms, a hot commodity in the world of healthy breakfasts. "You want my marshmallows?" 

I breathed a sigh of relief as Emily reached over the table, her earlier line of questioning forgotten. 

Saved by breakfast cereal. 

Incidentally, while never officially busted for our night's events, none of us were invited back the following summer. Couldn't possibly imagine why?

*names changed to protect the guilty.

Tuesday Teatime: All Things Bright and Beautiful

Oh, my friends, you have no idea how long I have been dying to share this tea with you. It's....words cannot even describe it!

I actually stumbled onto it by accident at the tea shoppe. As I was checking out, I glanced down at the counter and saw the listing of the new and featured teas, most of which I'd sampled and looked at already. Then something caught my eye.

"Hibiscus?" I asked, looking up at the Tea-Crack-Dealer. "I didn't see that on the shelf?"

She shifted her eyes and smirked, conspiratorially. "I've got it back here, behind the counter." She leaned down and pulled out a silver canister, removing the lid and sliding it my way as if she were sliding a bag of priceless diamonds. "Take a look. Smell it. I can brew you a sample, if you like?"

See, my friends? That's how they hook you. They show you the good stuff, offer you a sample, and then you're a prisoner for life.

But just LOOK at this amazing, beautiful tea?

Yes, that is my hand.

But the REAL beauty of this tea comes from steeping it. You get this beautiful, vibrant fuchsia tea that is SURE to brighten even the cloudiest of days. (And around here, we have plenty of those that need brightening!)

My garden is in full bloom, too. Look! They match! D'awww.

Hibiscus has a flavor all its own. If you've never tried it before, buy a small batch and see how you like it. It has a floral, almost citrus-y tang to it. I add a little agave nectar to mine and it's HEAVEN. Try it!

Tea of the Day: Organic Hibiscus

Teatime Topic: Everyone has a Learn-To List, even if it's not written down on paper. Tell me about something that you want to learn. Cook? Run a marathon? Knit? Paint? Speak a new language? And, what's stopping you from learning it?

In Which my Father is Profound

If you aren't reading PeanutTweeter.com, why not?

I had this utterly profound moment with my dad the other day. (I know, I'm shocked, too. Do you need a minute to recover? Go on, I'll wait.....better now? Good. Let's continue.)

I was cooking dinner, and we were chatting nonchalantly about my writing for Patch.com, and he'd commented that he didn't understand how I could write like I do, writing has never been his thing. (That's not the profound part, calm yourselves.)

I casually replied that I'd always loved writing, it just comes easily to me. I'm the girl that could pull off a 12 page term paper in a few hours, and STILL get an A. And I told him that it was my life's ambition to be one of those women in the coffee shop who just sit in the corner and write all day, working on a novel.

His response?
"Why don't you?"

You could have heard the record skip in my head. I turned to look at him, thinking he must be joking. Nope. Dead serious. He wasn't even being snarky. He continued:

"I'm serious. I've always thought you were a brilliant writer (Yes, my dad said BRILLIANT!). I've always thought you should do something with it."

I blinked a few times, grateful that the sauteing mushrooms on the stove needed my attention as I absorbed the compliment. My dad. Likes my writing. And told me about it. My dad rarely likes ANYTHING about my life; we argue about how I live my life more often that I'd care to admit. But...he likes my writing? Which means he actually READS what I write? I...I'm utterly in shock and honored that he's been paying attention when I slide bits and pieces of my work his way. I just figured he glanced at them and pushed them aside.

And I'm...proud. Like, blushingly, heartwarmingly, proud.

All this time, I've been telling myself I didn't need his approval.

Guess I may have been wrong about that, because this feels pretty damn good.

P.S. Comics are unrelated to post. I just wanted to bring a smile to your face.

Falling off the monkey bars

Credit: Regina Fisher

Everyone has a "when I was a kid" story. You know the ones I mean, the ones intended to illustrate how ridiculously naive/spoiled the current generation of kids is, and how life was SO much better when story-teller was a kid? There's a meme going around Facebook currently that caught my attention:

When I was a kid I didn’t have a computer, internet, Nintendo DS, XBox, or Wii. I had a bike and a curfew. My toys were the outside world. If I didn’t eat what my mom made me, I didn’t eat. I didn’t dare tell my parents “no” or dare to talk back. Life wasn’t hard, it was life… And I survived. Repost if you liked the way you were raised…and drank water out of a hose.

Now, while I'm sure my parents would argue about the "talking back" comment, and I DID get a Nintendo (the original one with the cartridges that you would blow into when they stopped working!) sometime in middle school, I'd have to pretty much agree with the above statement.

I say it all the time when people nag me at work about the BPA in their water bottle/plasticware/waterfilter. I drank out of the damn hose after it'd been sitting in the sun all day, like millions of others. If THAT didn't kill me, drinking out of a waterbottle with microscopic amounts of BPA in it sure as heck won't!

And don't even get me started on the over-sanitization of everything. We actually have "Wipe-Down Wednesdays" at work, where everyone is instructed to scrub their stations clean with disinfectant MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY. Hand sanitizer is bought in bulk and placed on every desk, and people obsessively pump it into their hands all day long. Um...I'm extremely sensitive/allergic to the stuff. You can guess how much fun work is for me. Aren't we all just setting our immune systems up for failure by not knowing how to fight off bugs? Aren't we creating a younger generation of kids who are actually going to get sicker more often because they're so well-insulated from the bugs in the real world?

But I digress.

Not my photo, but couldn't find the credit.

It seems an expert in Australia has started to point out the flaws in over-protecting our youth. Because playground equipment is so overly-safe, kids don't know how to properly assess risks, and decide which ones are acceptable to take. Think about it; didn't we all play that game as kids where you try to skip monkeybars, just to see how many you can skip before you fall?  Didn't you hang upside down on the bars and try to flip around in a circle? (Or was I just the playground daredevil?)

Risk taking and overcoming (and failing!) challenges on the playground can result in some bruises and skinned knees as a kid, but they teach us how to navigate life in the big-kid's-playground of the Real World.

One wonders what this generation of kids is going to grow up to say about us. Probably something like "::aghast look:: Whaaaat? When you were a kid, they had REAL grass in the soccer field? But...but...what about the GRASSTAINS!? Didn't you always ruin your clothes? And...and ROCKS! How could you even PLAY without tripping?! How primitive. ::giggles:: I'm sure glad we've made so much progress since then!"

Progress indeed.

My world for a rainbow..

 

I'd like to take a quick moment to tell you about an awesome charity that I support. You'll notice their icon is also now featured in my "I Stand" sidebar. Child's Play is a gamer-run charity network connected to more than 60 hospitals worldwide. The hospitals each put together a wish-list of games, toys, and movies, which donors can purchase online and send directly to the hospitals for kids in need. Imagine being a child, stuck in a hospital room, terrified and hurting. Wouldn't a gift from a fellow gamer brighten YOUR day? Too often, gamers and roleplayers get a bad rap for being stuck in a "fantasy world", but here's something wonderful and meaningful that the gaming community is coming together to support. Click either icon to visit their site and learn more! 

And now, a RAINBOW of short news briefs:

Summer's here, and I have to tell you, it doesn't feel like it. I'm already in a summer state of mind; the pool's up, the lawn mowed, patio cleaned, grill fueled, and all suncare products are sitting on the table. Mother Nature, however, has yet to show up to the party, and I'm hearing reports from friends that they're going skiing. SKIING. Mother Effing Skiing. In June. In Washington State. 

It seems that this year is going to be the year of the 5K; I'm already committed to 2; one in July and one in October, and I was just told about another in September. Which means I should probably be out of this chair and on the treadmill right now, but then I wouldn't be blogging for you fine folks, would I?

 We have a houseguest for the summer, a little pug named Tink. She belongs to a dear friend who is going away for the summer. I've never had a small dog in my LIFE, unless you count Vegas before he grew up. I've always been wary of small dogs; I always feel like I'm going to break them. But I'm starting to understand the appeal. I mean, just LOOK at her. 

You're blogging about ME, aren't you?

I am no longer vegan. There, I said it publicly. The reason is simple; after my mom got sick(er), I've took over the cooking for my parents. My mom has specific dietary needs, and my dad...well, he's a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Vegan and vegetarian cooking is a no-go, and I don't have the extra time to make 6 meals a day. So, I've had to make some changes. I'll go back to it when I can, because I've noticed a difference before and after, but for now, it's made me VERY conscious of what I'm putting in my body. You're all disappointed in me, aren't you? 

There's a personal trainer that works with the fitness studio that I attend. He talks a lot about pushing your body, but also listening to your body.  Our bodies tell us what we need, and when we've gone too far...and when we haven't gone far enough. We just need to get in tune with listening for the cues. That's something that I've really been working on recently, especially when it comes to nutrition. I've come out of veganism with a whole new set of cravings; different than I used to. I crave wholesome foods...like milk. Oh, my gosh, we have gone through so much milk and buttermilk. And veggies. Veggies and V8 are in high demand around here, and NO, I don't take it with vodka and tabasco..usually... And protein, soy and otherwise. I'm learning to treat my cravings as requests- what am I deficient in, what is my body actually saying to me? I'm also learning to listen to how my body responds to things it DOESN'T need - what foods/drinks actually drain my energy and leave me feeling BLAH. This is a work in progress, for sure, but it's like learning a whole new language, it takes time.

 Ooh! Ooh! The sun's out! Got to go play! *muah*

Break on through to the other side...

Ever since my mom was admitted to hospice, I've been fighting a battle with my insurance company about FMLA days. Since a large majority of my time is spent at my parent's house with caregiving duties, working a 40 hour work week has been pretty darn impossible. Luckily the law has coverage for those of us who find themselves in this kind of a bind; FMLA - Family Medical Leave Act. A person can take up two 12 weeks off in a rolling year, keep their benefits, and face no negative effects from their employer.


After mom went into hospice, I filled out the paperwork, got the hospice doctor and social worker to sign off on it, and sent it in. (Meanwhile accruing FMLA days because, hello, only 24 hours in a day, and I can't spend 8 of them at work while my mom's bedridden.) Insurance company kicked it back for clarification. Filled out clarification, got it signed and sent in, ins company kicked it back again. My mom's social worker (the EVER so awesome woman she is) wrote a letter of clarification and faxed it in herself. Finally got approved for leave.

Now, here's the catch. While approved OVERALL for FMLA, Insurance company had yet to put their stamp of approval on each of my missed days from work. Which meant that, to my employer, I had a whole CHUNK of sick days (and since we're only allowed 6 a year, you can GUESS how well that was going over.)

This morning, I finally, FINALLY, got ahold of the actual agent who is handling my claim. Not someone in the call center, not an answering service, THE actual agent. And boy, am I sure glad that I did. I explained everything to him, told him what was happening, told him why the back-and-forth was so problematic...and actually got a sympathetic ear. You don't want to hear all the details, I promise, but let's just say that he's had a family member in hospice before, knows the drill, and he and I worked EVERYTHING out.

I feel like a HUGE weight has been lifted off my shoulders! With everything ELSE that I have to stress about in my life, dealing with insurance paperwork was just one thing that was pushing me over the edge. I've been stressing about possibly losing my job, on top of everything else. Now, that's one worry that's gone.

I have to say, though, this whole thing has been one giant exercise in perspective. Too often, we fill our lives with things that, let's be honest, simply don't matter. Focusing on silly fights, gossip, he-said/she-said, who's wearing this, who said that...it's all just petty stuff. My family and my friends are what REALLY matter. I can lose my job, sure, but that's not nearly as terrifying as losing my mom, so was I willing to continue racking up unapproved FMLA days so that I could be with her? You're damn straight, I was.

I keep getting asked over and over; "how on earth can you DEAL with all of this?" The answer is, you just DO it. Because what other option is there? It involves a lot of sleepless nights, strong drinks, big tears, boxes of kleenex, and the best friends and family a girl could ever have, and I DO it.

And, I'll be honest. I think that I scare people. No one wants to imagine themselves watching someone they love deteriorate in front of their eyes, and being powerless to stop it. I've had friends pull away from be because it's just too real to deal with, and that's okay. Believe me, I understand the inclination.

But then on the other hand, this has brought me even closer to the other friends and family in my life. Their love and strength keep me going, and I don't know where I'd be without them.

Patch!

Have you ever checked out The Patch ? It's a community based website (check the link to see if there's on near you!) where you can keep up with and voice your opinions on local politics, events, and happenings. You can also view photos and videos of your community, actively participate in community discussions, connect with local organizations in need of volunteers (or broadcast your charitable event to FIND volunteers), and locate local businesses that may support your needs.

On your local Patch, you can also view blogs written by a handful of community members who can give you a taste of what life is like in the community.

I'm THRILLED and HONORED to have been chosen as a 'local voice' for my community! My first official blog post went up today (though, because you're all so awesome, you got to preview it yesterday ;)  ) with many more to come in the future. If you'd like to check out my blog, click my link in the sidebar, or the one below. And feel free to comment, even if my Patch community isn't YOUR Patch. For you bloggers out there, check to see if there's a Patch in your community where you can make your voice heard, too!

Summer Beginnings

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew that today was not going to be another ordinary day. The brightness of the room cast a red-orange glow behind my eyelids and from the other room, the sound of pawsteps on the floor told me that my dog was restless already and anxious to get outside. And...there was an odd...BUZZING in the air.

After several attempts to pull enough blankets and pillows over my head to block out the light and noise failed, I rolled over with a groan and put my feet on the floor. "I'm up, I'm up." I groaned to no one in particular. It was then that I saw it, the reason for all of the fuss and odd noises.

Outside the window, the sun shone through with a blinding light. I blinked several times as my mind wrapped itself around this odd sight, pulling my sweatshirt over my head before realizing that I wasn't going to need it this morning. I opened the backdoor and let the dogs out into the yard; my giant 130lb monster-of-a-dog and the tiny pug who's renting a room this summer while her human takes an adventure racing into freedom. It was at that moment that I identified the odd BUZZING that had shaken me from my dreams; my neighbor's lawnmower.

Summer, it seems, has finally made an appearance in my world . After a long winter of dreary grey skies and frosty mornings, could it be that the world has finally thawed and we're on our way to a warmer, brighter world?

For me, the first day of summer is like New Year's Day. It's the time when the cobwebs get brushed away and I have the chance to begin again. I feel rejuvinated and ready for reinvention as new adventures beckon. The first camping trip of the summer has been planned for months now; all of the gear stands at the ready, (and, if I'm being honest, a good portion of it is already stashed in the trunk of the car). The grill has a fresh tank of propane. The above ground pool has been waiting for an excuse to be filled. The kids walking to school every morning are starting to get louder and rowdier as they realize that their freedom is drawing closer, day by day.


Yes, summer is here, and with it a whole list of exciting adventures and activities that have been forbidden (or at least, extremely challenging) for the past 9 months or so. I'd like to think that I speak on behalf of much of the world when I say, it's about time.

What's on YOUR summer agenda? What adventure or event have YOU been waiting anxiously to get out and enjoy? Do you know something that I should get out and experience for myself? Please let me know in the comments!