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 |  I've maxed out. Closed this blog. |
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This is a way of making myself write something coherent and grammatically correct almost every day. I'm opinionated and need an outlet. I'm also prone to flights of fancy. Thanks for stopping by. |
| Every Friday now at the medical center where I work, they're trying to present a heart healthy meal for $5.00, along with the usual offerings of sandwiches and buffet items.The meals are pretty good, and come with a recipe card so you can do it yourself--if you can find all the ingredients. Finding couscous and quinoa is a little hard in my area--not even Whole Foods has them not mixed in with other things. These meals are low-fat, low carb but not carb free, high fiber and are actually pretty tasty. They are portion controlled, which means I'm hungry an hour later. Some more chopped tomatoes or crunchy romaine, or a few more bites of whole grain whatever, would be so satisfying. I've learned to carry some fruit to have for an afternoon snack on Fridays. This past Friday I was busy orienting new employees when the boss was starving and took two other people out to lunch early. I think he felt guilty that I was not invited, so he bought something for me, which one of the others delivered. The place they went, a popular hamburger place where the students hang out, makes fried potato salad. That's right "fried potato salad". A couple of the skinny women in my office love it. I thought it sounded gross. I had seen it, a big ball with a crisp coating. I didn't want any. They brought one back to me, right after I had finished my healthy meal. I was polite and thanked them. I told myself, I didn't want it. I looked at it and pushed it aside. After 20 minutes or so, I opened it again, and thought I could take a taste. Oh, my goodness! Yes, the outside was thin and crisp. Inside was warm red potato salad with tiny bits of bacon. A coronary waiting to happen. I took a second bite and shoved it aside. A few minutes at my computer went by. I pulled it over and opened it again. I'll eat half of it, I've already had a good healthy meal. Then I couldn't stop. This is one of those bad for you, but you can't stop, things. I have thought about it frequently since that day. I told them to never bring me one again. But I keep picturing those red potato skins, and tasting that warm creamy inside. They are truly evil fellow employees, even though they tried to make it look like they were doing something nice. They were just opening another door to evil. If they order there again for an office function, I will try to say no to that side. But that's what I think today. Will I have the strength when the time comes? |
| This week a new network was launched--the Atheist Network. It will also include the Internet. At the launching party the president of the group stated that since Christians are using new technology and the media, that they will, too. So if Atheists believe there is no god, why do they single out Christians and ignore all other world religions? Muslims claim to have the same god, but with a different understanding of him. Muslims are stricter about practicing their beliefs and evangelizing than Christians. And what about Hindus and Buddhists? Do they not also threaten Atheists? And if they are reacting to Christians, then maybe Christian groups are having more impact than they realize. But why do atheists feel threatened by people who believe differently than they do? It would seem like if someone is a true atheist, he would not care if someone else did something he believed inane. A lot of people are superstitious about black cats or spilled salt. I know that's unsubstantiated, but I don't feel a need to correct everyone or spend money or a lot of effort to teach them not to be superstitious. I'm not saying religion or belief in a god is superstition. I'm comparing it to what atheists claim to believe. I just don't get their drive or passion about this. Hold a different set of beliefs. But don't try to make everybody else feel or think like you. |
| It's amazing how much helping someone else can help you. Even in the play "Avenue Q", one of the final songs advises to help others and your life will be better. Once I was friends with a self-centered man who always felt sorry for himself and whined constantly. He groaned about his own family of origin. Now this guy was older than me, and at the time was too old to be fretting about not getting enough attention from his mother in his childhood. I tried not to be rude, but I finally got tired of hearing it. One day I told him to stop feeling sorry for himself and go do some charity. I told him if he saw how other people had to live and what they suffered, maybe he'd feel better about himself. He got really angry at me and told me off. Finally, I stopped taking his calls and wouldn't let him come by any more. He showed up one day with his girlfriend, just as I was going out on a date. I had locked the door, but we couldn't get out the driveway while he was parked there. The girlfriend was obviously embarrassed by his dropping by and not leaving when we were trying to go. A year later he called me at work to tell me he was seeing a psychiatrist. Guess what! The doctor told him to stop feeling sorry for himself and do some volunteer work. His life would feel better. Now he wanted me to know I was right. He couldn't listen to me for free, but had to pay someone with a license on the wall to say the same thing. C. S. Lewis said practice charity even when you don't feel charitable. Do it, and the feelings will come later. So try it. You'll like it. |
| I love old movies. Tonight I watched Shenandoah with James Stewart. He was the only actor I remembered from the first time I saw it at the drive-in. That gives my age away--I actually went to a drive-in theater. But now that I've watched a lot more movies, I recognize a young Katherine Ross and Doug McClure, who was a TV star at the time of the movie. I remember that I liked it a lot when I was young. So did my friends and my parents. My parents loved anything that Jimmy Stewart did. My friends all sang or hummed the theme song or played it on piano. Most of the acting was done by Stewart, and it wasn't his greatest part. All the others were supporting players with minor roles. They did little speaking. McClure and the actor who played the only daughter did more with facial expressions and limited action than with words. The sixteen year old son had the next most important role, and he had very little dialog. At the end he walked with a crutch and when he reunited with his family, he was crying. I cried along with him. Maybe I've gotten old and cynical. In theory I could sympathize with a man who remained neutral in a war, made no comment on it, and refused to provide supplies to either side, yet lost two sons and a daughter-in-law, and had a 3rd son kidnapped. I thought it was sad that the couple were split apart at their wedding ceremony; I remarked that it was nice they got to have a honeymoon night much later. I thought the other murders were unfortunate, but the only true emotion that crept up on me was the final scene with that teenager who had been so brave and scared and made it back home on his own under horrendous circumstances. He kept all his feelings pent up until he was back in the arms of his father, then it all came pouring out. So now I'm wondering it it really wasn't that moving a film after all, or maybe I have gotten hard-hearted. |
| I can understand why Indians want to get back to their roots, or why African Americans want to track their ancestors back to other continents. My background is kind of boring by comparison, but it's interesting to me. I hear or read of things my ancestral families did or things they survived, and I can feel connected to these unknown relations. Somewhere in the family tree was Meriwether Lewis. The family must not have known he was gay, but they were impressed by his fame or success and named a lot of nephews and distant cousins after him. My grandmother was a fifth cousin of Dwight Eisenhower on his mother's side. That means Russell Stover was a distant cousin. There were two obscure Scottish kings in my direct line, hundreds of years ago. In fact Macbeth, who would be really obscure if not for Shakespeare, was a cousin of one of them. There are claims of Cherokee Indian on both my mother and father's side, but I can't prove any of it. The people who claim to know have all died. One story on my mother's side I did track down and proved all of the details except the Indian part. Indians didn't have birth certificates or church records prior to 1900, so it's hard to prove anything. Marriage licenses didn't always specify race. I discovered Swiss, German, Bavarian, English, French, and Channel Island ties. The only Irish might be a falsehood: another researcher claimed David, who arrived here with daughter Sarah, leaving his proper English wife behind, because the daughter belonged to his Irish mistress. But the fascinating stories are about the ones who sacrificed a lot to get here. They left thriving businesses, relatives, and their homes to sneak away rather than profess things they didn't believe. They refused to be ordered how to think, how to act, what religion to practice. Some were shot in the process of plotting their escape. This makes me proud, and I tell myself their rebellious, strong-willed blood courses through my veins. I tracked down a Civil War casualty who was erroneously recorded in a book. I really felt accomplished when I uncovered the truth. But all these stories made me do historical research, too. I had to find out about Yankee prison camps, battles at Vicksburg, etc. I had to look at the vast movement out of France and Germany as recorded by English historians of the time. I learned what a Royal Housier was. I had to learn about the Basques, and a little geography, and changing borders of countries. So it was a good exercise for learning, as well. If you haven't looked at your family tree yet, I heartily recommend it. You might feel differently about yourself. Maybe not. I determined before hand that if I found out anything bad or shameful, I would still embrace it. It's part of me. |
| I've always believed that a really clean house is the sign of a woman without an interesting life. Although, I admit I always feel bad when unexpected company comes, and I haven't dusted, or gone through the mail. I have always had a hard time believing that people can get bored, outside of the classroom or the boardroom, or some place where they are captive, like a really bad movie. There are always things to do, whether you're alone or with others. I was never bored as a kid and I'm not now. I finally heard someone say, in reference to someone else, "He was comfortable with his own company." I guess that's part of it. I'm comfortable with my own company and can find many things to occupy my mind. I have known people who are always bored. I think they really have some other problem, not boredom, some inner unrest. Intelligent people can find ways to entertain themselves or their friends or kids. Children who are allowed to play and explore don't get bored either. I tried some low sodium, low sugar peanut butter. I want to be healthier. Yech!!! Wood putty would have tasted equally well. I looked desperately for jelly or jam, but there was none in the house. I ended up putting fresh blueberries on it, just to be able to consume it. Turns out, I like the sodium and sugar in peanut butter. Who knew they were such necessary ingredients? I made a really big mistake at work. It's going to cost money, and I'm nervous about what will happen. I fixed it so the correct project meets the deadline, but the wrong project is going to have a bill. I'm having trouble focusing on any thing else. I dread the chewing out that's coming. And it was a really careless mistake. I picked up the wrong package to send to the printer. Well, I guess it could lead to a job hunting opportunity. Or maybe just a very uncomfortable period of time and a reprimand in my file. They never let you forget those. |
| There are a lot of mistaken ideas about olive oil. If you have to have oil, olive oil is one of the better ones because of the monounsaturated fat. But you should still be stingy with it. That's right, stingy! People actually think it's so good for them, they use it liberally like water. They drown their salads in it, or cover cooked foods and sauces with it. Fat is still fat, no matter where it comes from. And olive oil is not the only "good" oil in town. Safflower and soy are also quite healthy. Corn oil is better than peanut oil (which smokes) or mixed vegetable oil or animal fat, which contains cholesterol. Remember, cholesterol only comes from animal products, not grains or vegetables. Virgin olive oil means the olives were only squeezed or pressed once, so there will no sediment in it. Regular olive is squeezed twice, so you may notice it's thicker or filmy from the pulp. EVO is the fresh, first oil that comes in the process. It's the thinnest, but no better or healthier. Some people claim it has a better flavor, less like the olive. "Light" olive oil does not mean low fat, like we have become conditioned to think. It refers to the color--no green tint. It's probably more from the breed of olive, not the process. Unless you have a baking recipe, say a cake recipe, that specifies olive oil, it's best not to use it because of the flavor. One of the other vegetable oils would be better. The bottom line is to avoid oil of any kind, unless necessary to the recipe. And don't be fooled by labels. Olive oil is more expensive, so many bottlers mix the olive oil with other cheaper oils and still collect the big price. Read your labels. |
| I saw Avenue Q Friday night. I knew nothing about it in advance, so when some of the players came on stage with puppets, I wanted them to put the puppets down. It took me a while to get the idea that the puppets were the real actors or characters, not the people operating them and singing, even though they sometimes danced and acted with the puppet. Trekie Monster sounded like Cookie Monster, and the resemblance to Sesame Street was not lost on me. Then Gary Coleman shows up. I may be a little slow, but without warning in advance, it took me a while to figure out the theme and why they were doing it this way. Turns out its an award winning Broadway play. The suspension of disbelief that we do at every play, movie or TV show just had to be a little bigger for this play. But this was no show for children. It was X-rated. The language is pretty adult, the themes very adult as well. Then there's Lucy the Slut as a puppet, with a EKG that looks like the outline of two boobs. And there is the song "Scream Loud As the Hell You Want" while everyone including the puppets have sex, with as many positions as they could get in the time. Two of the puppets engage in nudity (they have no shape in bodies). And Trekie Monster and several of the male characters are addicted to porn. I can't forget the song, "Everybody's A Little Bit Racist". The "bad idea puppets" encourage drinking, drinking games, missing work, and one night stands. The bottom line is that children's shows and programs like Sesame Street encourage children to think they're special, they have a special purpose in life, but reality is the world is a hard place to live, and we're not all special when we have to pay bills, get jobs, and have relationships. The show is entertaining, funny, and thought provoking, but not for children or the prudish. I understand that a GP rated version was developed, because they felt the message was important enough for high school students to perform it, and they would have to meet school standards and parent approval. |
| I was forced to have some down time tonight. The power went out for over 3 hours! No light, no music, no TV. I had passed up a shopping trip, because I was going to boil eggs for a picnic. I planned to devil them tomorrow night after I get home from a play. I had just enough time to change the sheets in the guest room, for the weekend, and boil the eggs only. I had already done dishes and swept the floor. The computer was on. Well, at least the summer evenings are still long. I took a book, my bug lotion, and my iced tea on the back deck. I read until it got too dark to see the words well. Then I sang softly to myself outdoors. The neighbors were talking and playing radios. They wouldn't have noticed me. Finally, in the twilight the sun powered butterfly lights came on. They were the only lights I could see except for the gaslight in the driveway of the farm behind us. I even managed some exercise and stretching on the porch. Then I realized I had gotten cold. Yes, cold in the summer! I went in and started peeling eggs. My dad came in from his outing. He started a lantern, so that I could peel the eggs without ripping them apart in the dark. Then, we sat and talked by candle light. I guess that was kind of old-fashioned. Sometimes you have no option. No computer, no entertainment, no light, no power equipment or toys. It was nice. My brain danced around on its own. I enjoyed it. |
| I heard a doctor making a speech this evening. He was talking about how busy we all are, how frantic our lives are. We can get a 3 minute egg in 20 seconds with the right devices. We have more time saving devices, energy saving devices, and work saving devices than ever, but we still don't have time for family or friends. We're living longer than people ever have, but there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything we try to do. And then there's multi-tasking. No one is allowed to do one thing at a time. You can't just drive, or just eat, or just cook dinner. You read mail or a magazine while you watch TV. You have to do multiple things. Employers don't want anyone who can't multi-task, even though studies have shown that the quality of work goes down with interruptions and multi-tasking. This doctor goes on to say that we have to take a day off once a week. Not the kind of day where you work yourself to death loading or unloading a boat, getting it out of the water, etc., or a day off to do yard work. He means a real sit down and chew the fat with relatives or friends day, or read a book day or meditate or whatever slows us down and lets us re-energize. Even God took day number 7 off to enjoy his work. Seize the moment. Stop and smell some flowers, watch some butterflies. Sit on the porch with a glass of iced tea for a few hours and do nothing. Don't use the time in the rocker to twitter or read email from work. Just relax and chat face to face. Life might be a little richer while we have it. |
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