tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-113839572024-03-13T16:26:33.100-05:00~A view thru my eyes~Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.comBlogger795125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-61497506317715049532014-04-08T08:40:00.002-05:002014-04-08T08:40:38.261-05:00with great reservationSong of the day: "Timebomb" P!nk<br />
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Mood: Nervous<br />
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There is a moment in time, when as a parent, you realize how much you love your children. I would do anything within my reach for my kids.<br />
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My reach is more like a grasp some days. But today I bucked up and did the right thing. I bought the kids tickets to the upcoming Smackdown event. I really did not want to. However, watching Lucy the last week and how she has been interacting with her softball friends and us (the family) I made the decision to do this.<br />
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Wrestling is that kids world. I am stunned every time I think about her pure and unadulterated love of character Sheamus and the WWE universe. She has picked a bunch of characters to enjoy that don't go together. Their story lines don't cross, their alliances don't mix (on the surface now... don't mean they didn't and won't...) and yet... she makes them make sense. Her current favorites are:<br />
Sheamus, AJLee, the Wyatt with the red beard, Triple H, ADR, Ziggler, and in secret Orton. <br />
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This is interesting because she verbally hates the Wyatt's in general. She thinks they are icky and odd BUT loves the theme song. The theme song that the guy with the red beard is somehow linked to. I catch her humming it in the shower all the time. Really? And she has disliked Orton from day one until he saved Triple H from Daniel Bryan last week; when Orton made the two attempts to save Triple H from DB, Lucy said... "Wow... Orton is something. He has a daughter and he saved Triple H." which made my husband and I say..."WHAT???" and she promptly asked us not to tell anyone. REALLY? Orton??? she likes Orton??? Cool damn kid ... that is what I have.<br />
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Yesterday I went through Lucy's bookbag. I found a note she wrote to her teacher and a reply from her teacher. She told her teacher in the note that she was going to Smackdown. I was overwhelmed with guilt at not having bought the tickets yet.<br />
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So, guess what? First thing this morning I ran down and bought tickets. Guilt and love are powerful things. They are not the best seats and they are not in the section we normally sit in at the Bridgstone arena but... they will do. They are what was available in our price range. <br />
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We are pretty close to where Clingon and her family are seated. We are pretty close to where Bob and his family are. We are close to where Hunter and his parents and sister are. It is like... all 35 of us are there again but we are polka dotted around 3 sections. LOL. It will make cheer communication difficult where at the RAW event we were all in the same section and managed to re-arrange and sit the kids all together up front and us together. Oh well. It will be fun all the same. WWE is unable to fail at entertaining. I think for the next event I will just corner everyone and buy a group rate tickets so we are sitting all together. I need to get with Bob and see what he says.<br />
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I also need to run to Hot Topic when they open and see about coordinating shirts for us 4. Meh. Nah, I will get everyone a new shirt of their favorite character and look for an Authority shirt for me. Do they have shirts for The Authority???Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-63024819264702481342014-03-19T10:55:00.003-05:002014-03-19T10:55:59.410-05:00parenting is hardSong of the day, "Wish You were here" Avril Lavigne<br />
mood: brain warp confusion<br />
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topics at hand: genius and how to deal with it, belligerent disregard for authority, and how to show math work<br />
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My brain works differently than most people. I know this. I have known this. I have a difficult time dealing with society because of it. I don't understand how people can "NOT" figure stuff out and why are they always so stupid.<br />
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After todays IEP meeting, I think the problem is because schools dumb people down. Serious. They hold back the smart people or make so many loopholes that you just can't surface until it is too late. I firmly believe this is where we are encompassing a problem with authority issues. We learn from example and if an authority figures holds you back... you are not going to forget that. Being withheld from something dangerous is a different matter. But the schools are acting like a brain is a dangerous weapon and should not be utilized to the fullest extent. I think the opposite. Idle mind lends to destruction. Self destruction, social destruction, physical destruction, and reckless lifestyles. And who gives a fuck how you get the right answer as long as you got it? Why so much emphasis on showing work?<br />
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Let us stop dumbing people down. What is wrong with bringing them up and asking for their full potential? Taking a minute to reflect on Ken Shamrock and profit101.net . It bothers me that every conversation I've had about him there is one person or several that say "He WAS..." and nobody ever states that "he IS...". Shamrock IS a very smart man. Go to his site and pay to join it and learn from him. He IS able to teach and guide you to doing moves correctly and telling you what muscles will enforce that move. Bring him up for who he is and not for who he was. Wrap your brain around thinking and relearning stuff. People and rules both change. Learn how to learn outside the box and don't let the common denominator provide the outcome for your thinking. If Ken had allowed himself to only think within the box... he'd never have learned a shin breaking leg bar or how to roll out of a cover etc.<br />
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Or how about John Cena? Everyone on twitter is hating on Cena. Why? Because he sacrificed himself and his privacy and made himself a brand and ooooh... made millions off of it? I think he is brilliant. I think part of the hating that goes on is because you (all of you that judge celebrities) are jealous that you (yourself) won't make that sacrifice. And it is not just his privacy and personal identity that he sacrifices. I'd imagine that every glass of wine he drinks he thinks, "I've got to do X amount of cardio to burn these calories" or something of that nature. He can't enjoy the simple things you and I take advantage of. When you get into pro-athletics... everything around you is calculated. You have timed sleep. You are almost autistic in your routines. I know that much. Or when I was an athlete that is how I was. Everything was as I made it. And I felt it when I slipped and had a cookie or took that 20 minute nap. I don't now... oh no... cookies???? run at me.... more more more. But the topic is how you learn. Why not accept Cena for who he is becoming now? A smart businessman that is maybe not going to be the Champ you are used to seeing? Re-learn how you perceive him and you will find that you don't hate the man. You might actually find you admire him for what he has done and is doing. My youngest child really don't like Cena. We did some research on him. Lucy started to read that he does a bunch of Make a Wish things. I then had to explain what MAKE A WISH is and that we have done some too. She was very excited. She said, "I think I like John Cena for who he is." And as a parent my eyes got all leaky and stuff. Good kid.<br />
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Don't stop learning just because you got out of school. Yes... most of us survived high school and college. Me...by the skin of my teeth. But I have never stopped learning. There are many days where I feel like I'm all an adult and stuff and then I realize I've fucked something up or worse... find out I was wrong about something. Hey, but when I'm wrong, I own up to it. Absolutely every damn time. I've found I really like the flavor of crow.<br />
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So, moving on to authority. As an adult, educator, police officer, parent or even a "safe adult" friend ... remember your actions dictate things to other people. I see it every day. Today. Today I watch authority being abused and used. One person in the meeting was saying the test indicate that Lucy is depressed. And that she scored highest because she is not interested in things that "other" kids are. The vice principal said he didn't agree with the test because Lucy was interested in things that other kids (gender specific) are. He said, Talk to her about baseball or wrestling and you will see her eyes light up. He went on to say he is constantly looking up new wrestlers and historical ones so when he see's her in the hall he can ask her something and test her knowledge. He said she calls him silly and will joke with him. This is true. Lucy found out that Mr M knew about WWE and he went from her top hated person to a very well liked and trusted adult. That also ties in with re-learning how we view a person. The first person was very agitated at her pointed out depression was a factor and I re-directed it to social repression more than depression. What a shit storm that brewed but in my favor.<br />
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Social repression is taught in school folks. You classify and pigeon hole people into classes of people... they are the preppy ones... they are the metal heads... blah blah blah. Once you classify people you then repress specific groups of people because they don't fit your guideline. This is a marketing tool to divide who will be management, or grunts, or marketing, or creative, or athletic or financial workers in the workforce. Which ever it may be. You as an individual will judge and alienate 5-60 people on a daily basis and not even be aware of it. Don't believe me? Take you a small notebook to the mall on a busy day. Find you a chair or sit in the food court. Observe people and judge them or tweet them. Bet you have: fatty fatty two by four, thigh gap, nerd, thug, N word, jerk, mr GQ, etc. Guarantee it. You will be able to label just about everyone that passes you. Even the mall cop you will call rent a cop. Serious. Shame on you. And me. I am not exempt. Mine were very ugly things. Suck that bottom lip in you retard. Lick em stick em lips... oh hell no... it is lipstick not paste... did you even look in the fucking mirror? I should have tweeted instead of note padded it. I would have been a very unfollowed person that day (on twitter... had I actually done it)... but later... I re-read what I wrote. I felt pretty sick inside. Is that me? Why do I think such awful things? So.. I did it again and this time I only allowed myself to say positive things. Guess what? That is fucking hard. Sticky over-lipsticked girls are my biggest pet peeve. I said... well she picked a nice shade of lipstick... it matches her handbag... Very hard to be positive about everyone. Cutie and hotie don't count. Pick one thing on that person you'd say is a geek and say something nice. Ouch. I know.. I know... The pen protector prevents chest injury when he gets a swirly.... wait what? See... it is very hard to not socially repress someone because they are not the same as you. You are halfway to being a brand yourself, did you know that? Because you are getting lost in a sea of confusion. SWIM.<br />
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Showing your math. It is an interesting concept. It really reinforces accountability and not a representation of how you solved the problem. I did a math test in 9th grade. As I solved the problems I just doodled? I'd draw things and lines and hash marks and dots... and then I'd write the number. sometimes I never used a number sometimes I'd use words only I'd jumble them first. I can remember Dr Yadagari pulling me aside after a test and giving me an F on a paper where not one wrong answer was given. He said I cheated and did not show my work. I grabbed my scrap paper and give it to him. He said that was rubbish and was not showing my work. I was a very hard teenager. Nothing got to me. I'd get out of that class and be consumed with rage. I'd take it out on softball. Regardless, I was sitting in his detention one afternoon. I was doing my math homework (he was the detention teacher not a detention for him) and he sat next to me and watched me. I did my doodle things and was unaware he was there. When I finished he asked if he could see the homework and the scrap paper. He kept these a few days and asked me to stay 9th (detention but not trouble type) period. I did and we fussed and discussed the paper and I ended up in tears. I told him I did not know how to show my math the way he wanted me too. I'd tried and I do it that way and I get the problem wrong. I passed with a C and he said it was the hardest decision he ever made but technically earned an A in the class however by refusing to do the work I was unaccountable.<br />
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Almost 25 years later it still bothers me.<br />
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I do show my math now. But I show it how I do it. Like for working out. I keep a sheet on each workout. reps/sets/weight blah blah blah. What I do looks strange but it works for me. I was actually asked about it and the person was looking it over. He said, ya know it makes sense I just don't know how to log it. <br />
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But do we really need to know how to log it? If we make ourselves accountable to ourself... are we not further ahead of the game? Hint hint... it also keeps your ass out of jail. If you obey your own set of laws and set a parameter of right and wrong, hey guess what? You are going to find it easer to obey social laws (not killing people, driving right, not causing harm... etc), and social bylaws (how we interact with each other) and all that crap. Accountability is not writing everything down. I have not kept a checkbook in 25 years. I do my balance in my head. I go over it mentally with each financial transaction, I go over it in my head when I shower, and I have only bounced once check (and that was NOT my fault it was a $430 gasoline purchase instead of a $30 one and the gas station paid the banks overdraft fee) in 25 years. I don't understand how people keep a check book. I know how to. I have done it. I balance my husbands. I just don't know how people can not know how much they are worth. You are worth what you do.<br />
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Your actions make you worth more than that bank account does. We are not rich. There are many days I wish we were. Days I wish I could go out and get a real job. Days where I'd rather cry while I drive my Bentley than my car. Yes indeedy. We all judge by the greenbacks. Even ourselves. But guess what? Money don't make you happy either.<br />
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The day we donated our hair... I was happy. The day I bought a kid his meal at a ball game... I was happy. The day I donated tickets that we couldn't use to make a wish... I was happy. Judge yourself by the good you do. And yes. Brag on it. Your friends... your true friends... will probably tell you what makes them happy. Daisies make me happy to look at. Not roses. Do you think I ever get a Daisy?<br />
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and yes... I still pick the petals off them... I am like that... so get me a few of them :-)Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-18150664747373365572014-03-12T13:02:00.004-05:002014-03-12T13:02:50.123-05:00coffee ... workouts... <span style="font-size: large;">Song of the day: "I want a new drug" Huey Lewis and the News</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Mood: Yes</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I know... I know... I have not been blogging. Things have been hectic. Such is a day in my life. If it were not hectic then I'd worry something was wrong... wrong... wrong...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">phone died, cat sick, kids sick, blah blah blah.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But I am still working out. I just have not posted about it. Are you working out? What did you do today?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I picked the above Huey Lewis song for a reason. Working out has become my new drug. Honest. Not that I needed another crutch in life. Am I using it to replace coffee? Yes. Do I want coffee? Yes. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Today I do. I am so cold and I'd love a cup. But I made a vow to God to give up espresso for 40 days as a forgiveness. In one way I feel like I made a poor decision. In another way I feel like it is showing me just how strong I am.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Every time I have an urge. I pick a video from Ken Shamrock's profit101.net (It is a paid service and well worth his fee) and watch it. If the exercise is something I am physically able to do (I do try them to make sure) I add it to my routine for upper or lower body workouts. It is not easy. I have picked up four exercises to add to my routines. Not really a punishment. Just pushing it a little further. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am not sure about this coffee thing. I almost feel hyper without it. Is that withdrawals? I never feel hyper when I drink coffee. I never feel driven when I drink it. It don't even wake me up in the morning... I just feel like I've had something warm. I never feel giddy or like I have to go, go, go... but not having it... I am half crazed. I wonder if coffee is not a contributing factor to my weight problem? Who knows.</span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-54895187643739781442014-03-05T17:28:00.000-06:002014-03-05T17:36:50.803-06:00workout - Lent - giving up something<span style="font-size: large;">Song of the day: "Burn MF" FFDP</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">mood: determined</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Today Is ASH Wednesday. I am not going into the history of Lent. Either you are Catholic or you practice Lent as part of Passover or you don't. Lent last 40 days.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">For Lent I am giving up Espresso. I drink Espresso instead of normal coffee. I have committed to giving up Espresso for Lent. I will most likely include regular coffee in this. Not sure yet.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I plan to pray a lot.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I plan to use Ken Shamrock's profit101.net</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Every time I want a coffee... I am going to workout. This worked to quit smoking (working out not profit). I think giving up coffee will be harder than giving up smoking. Why? It is my last crutch and my longest lasting bad habit. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is how committed I am. I wanted coffee after dinner. I pulled up profit101.net and did straight leg crunches (episode 79). I did not have anyone to hold my legs, so I strapped them to the back of dinning room chair (that I weighted down the chair bottom first) and used my 5 pound ankle weights to strap my ankles to the chair. Not a perfect fix but it worked for me for the exercise that called for two people. I did 2 sets of 30 straight leg crunches. Suddenly I really did not want the coffee anymore. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I wanted water. I drank some water (warm water slowly! I'd have drank Ken's Shamrock Slam but I am waiting for an answer as to where to get this product!). I returned and did one more set of 30. I drank serving of whey protein drink (because I did work the muscles... and chocolate... duh) mixed with water and fresh juiced spinach. Don't knock it. Fresh spinach juice is awesome!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Join me in using profit101.net to combat your urge to fall off of your Lent. Also follow him on twitter.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Don't forget to pray. This is Lent.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Please note, you can not pay to be on my blog. I only endorse products that I use and believe in. Thanks.</span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-21685432423121916762014-02-27T07:46:00.001-06:002014-02-27T07:48:09.193-06:00recipe and smart eating tips<br />
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song of the day: "Complicated" Avril Lavigne<br />
mood: need a coffee IV<br />
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The "trendy" weight loss thing is to eat clean. Everyone is eating clean and there are now diet books on how to do it. I call bullshit on it. In order to eat "clean" you eat smart. Shop the exterior of the grocery store and buy real whole foods. Fruits, veggies, nuts, milk, local meat (if you can get it) and assorted dairy. IF IT HAS AN EXPIRAION date... that is what you eat. Avoid pre-packaged foods and GMO foods if possible.. Buy cheese that has to be cut or grated and not individual slices. It really is not clean eating... it is smart eating. Clean eating is just a money making scam.<br />
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I like to get the lotus food rice. They are high in minerals that we lack in our diet. Some are grown in volcanic areas.<br />
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Forbidden Rice (black rice) is an interesting character to add to your diet. Looks like rat shit when you cook it. If you can get over the visual the texture is amazing. It feels like rice in your mouth but when you bite and chew it; you will find it as hardy as the texture of meat. It can also be used as a meat replacement (vegans and vegetarians).<br />
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I cook one cup of rice (yields four servings cooked) according to the package instructions. Yes, this takes longer than regular rice to cook. Plan ahead.<br />
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in a frying pan dice one small white onion, grate one clove of garlic, grate one slice of crystalized ginger or fresh ginger root, and two tablespoons of organic butter. I use salt free butter but I season with that pink salt... ugh... I can't remember what it is called. I need to run get some. sigh. Anyway, season with salt and pepper to taste. Sauté the above ingredients and if you like (which I do) add some diced meat that is left over (Pork/beef/shrimp/chicken.. whatever) and I like to add snow peas that are fresh (in season... you want to wok like fry the snow peas in the mixture because you want them to be crunchy). Also, add a tablespoon of soy sauce. When the rice is cooked just dump the skillet into the rice and mix well. Serve hot. It is also fun to add bullion powder to the rice water before it cooks. Season with a flavor that you like. Sometimes I just add whatever spices sound good to me... I just toss and pray it comes out good and usually it does. I don't recommend Italian mix spices as they give it an odd taste.<br />
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Left over rice? Cool. Over cook some white rice so it is like a mush. Add it to (you have to eyeball this) the black rice mix and make a patty. I make mine oblong. Anyway, put your patty in some hot coconut oil (enough to coat bottom of pan) and fry you a rice burger. Wrap the rice burger in some long leafy lettuce and don't forget to garnish with shaved almonds before you roll it up. Makes a great lunch. I like it hot but I know people that like it cold. Weirdo's. You can also use left over black rice in your sushi recipes. It goes fantastic with fish.<br />
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you can make from scratch just about anything you buy packaged. Want to have a cheese spread? melt some grated cheese with condensed sweetened milk and pour into containers. Perfect and simple. It also goes further than cheese spreads and you can smart them up with diced tomatoes and onions or homemade salsa or mushrooms or whatever you want. I like to add guacamole mix powder and chunks of avocado to mine with a small diced onion. That is me. I grew up eating tex-mex so I like to make things of that nature.<br />
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when you cook... avoid as much store bought bread as possible. get you a bread machine and make it from scratch. It taste better, you can add what you want, it is more eye pretty, it smells better (duh... fresh), and it is a fun thing to do with the kids. If you buy a more expensive bread machine you can also make jellies and jams in it and have the best of both worlds.<br />
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pie is evil.<br />
it is?<br />
is it?<br />
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It really don't have to be. Find a recipe for a tart crust. Ohhhhhh... you see where I am going? Yea. Tart's are a NY and New England thing. Make your tart crust. Poke a few holes. Cover it about 1/4 inch thick with your homemade jelly. Add fresh sliced fruit (I try to make it look as pretty as possible) and spray some lemon juice on top. Bake according to the tart directions. Yes it will have calories in it but they are smart calories. Instead of white sugar use unrefined sugar or agave or honey in the tart recipe. Instead of flour use Spelt or rice flour or anything of that nature.<br />
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If you play in the kitchen, cooking is not a mundane chore. It becomes fun. You learn a lot about yourself and a lot about what you really like and don't like. <br />
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Example. Nobody in this house likes spinach (except me). Dumbasses. Do you know HOW much spinach they eat? I dice it and add it to burgers. I juice it and add it to juices. I use the pulp from juicing to add to baked goods. My family has about two servings of spinach or kale a day. Sneaky bitch me.<br />
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Don't be afraid to add the kitchen sink. Honest. We used to call it "Shit in a Pan" but now I have kids I just call it a casserole ... just start adding leftovers to the crock pot with some broth or water and have a soup or stew. Plenty of veggies too! Or add pasta and bake in the oven.<br />
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Use your stainless steel sink to your advantage.<br />
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in a clean sink add about a gallon of water and a cup of vinegar and a few squirts of fresh lemon (I just squeeze an entire lemon in my mix. Add to it dirty fruit (all fruit is dirty TBH). let your fresh fruit soak about fifteen minutes. Rinse it well. You will honestly be grossed out at the residue you see floating in the water. That is why I say a clean sink. Fruit and veggies are gross and should be handled like it came from a hospital that has an MSRA infection running rampant. Think about it. People touch the fruit to see what is ripe. They smell it. They sneeze on it. Lot's of people do this with dirty hands or hands that were not washed after smoking or going to the bathroom. THINK about it. WASH your fresh fruit and veggies. I even wash fruit I know I am going to peel. WHY? because when you peel it you are pushing the peel down into the fruit and thus contaminating the meat inside. Except bananas. I don't wash them. That is my only exception.<br />
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The point is to be smart. At first it will take time. At first you will feel it is so expensive and complicated. Guess what? When you quit buying the shit on the other 12 isles... it really is not expensive. When you use a food processor or a bread machine or Crock pot... what time? Those things basically are a god send. Yes it will seem complicated... But your first science project was complicated too, amiright? Matching your clothes and running a house is complicated. Navigating traffic is complicated. This really is not. You just have to do like the other things and train your mind. You are training your body to build muscle too... right? You have not given up on the GYM have you?<br />
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<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-27728169781788883502014-02-26T11:02:00.001-06:002014-02-26T11:02:21.636-06:00no timeSong of the Day: "Menace" Five Finger death Punch <br />
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mood:sick damn it<br />
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I hate getting sick. Everyone came home sick yesterday and today I've got the tireds. I've no energy to workout or even run to the store for stuff to cook supper. <br />
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<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-70488828603546210772014-02-19T14:09:00.001-06:002014-02-19T14:09:09.064-06:00accountability song of the day: Timber - Kesha and Pitbull<br />
(Because IT is going DOWN)<br />
Mood: feeling stoked<br />
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I am 42<br />
I am overweight<br />
I am an ex-smoker<br />
I worked out today.<br />
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DID YOU?<br />
<br /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Why not? I can do a mile at a walk in 28 minutes. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We did our measurements today. I am down 13 inches and down 15 pounds. Doc is down 12.5 inches and he did not weigh in. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Hey ya'll, missing inches is motivation to go back to the gym tomorrow. Put it this way, I could not wait to go to the gym today.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Even if you don't go to the gym... do me a favor... keep a log of what you eat every day. At the end of the week read it. Are you eating healthy or even close to balanced? How much saturated fat is in your diet? Calories are an evil thing. Use your food as health care and don't let it slowly poison you to death.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I would love to give all the credit to working out. But I did the above. I was sick to my heart over what I was eating. Honest. I know better. Let me repeat that... I KNOW BETTER. I cut calories but I cut them the smart way. I took out a lot of saturated fats and junk foods and deserts. I upped fresh fruit and veggies. Not canned veggies, FRESH. Fresh is VIP because there is no preservatives in them. I added smart rice like what is sold by Lotus Foods. I added fish and took away most red meats. I eat my lunch on five crackers instead of a sandwich and chips.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Buy yourself a juicer. Yea, there are pro's and con's. But you can add to your fresh fruit and veggies. I take the pulp and put it in our baked goods and breads. You still get the fiber if you use the pulp too. Know what is super yummy? Instead of 8 ounces of water juice you 3 peaches and a bundle of fresh spinach. Dilute what you get with about 8-10 ounces of water (you want the juice and the water to equal about 16 ounces or two servings). Mix the juice with two scoops of your whey (I use the chocolate by BodyTech sold at Vitaman Shoppe) and stick it in the blender with 6 ice cubes. Two servings (one for Doc and one for me). Taste great and has the right stuff in it to stop the post workout trauma to your muscles.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Why a whey protein drink. Your muscles crave it. When you work out you build up lactic acid (that causes the stiffness) and the lactic acid will eat away at your muscles because it just sits there. They whey drinks help to flush this out. It is NOT for just body builders. If you do not want to get stiff, add this to your diet. Be sure to account for it in your calorie intake. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Another good weight loss tip is to manage your eating. Eat your biggest meal at breakfast or wake up time. And tapper them down. You should eat five to six small meals a day. This fuels your metabolism. YES I know this. And YES I became a coffee for breakfast person (over the years). Yes, I have changed this. The results are up there. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Also, when you are working out, be sure to do exercises that complement each other. segregate yourself. Upper body one day and lower the next.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I was reading on FB about a friend that gives up when her back or shoulder go out. Ok. Think about your body as a machine. One part will not work right if the parts around it don't work right. Like the gears on a watch or the timing belt on a car. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Shoulder issues: make sure you are working the Pec's (chest) and the Delts (upper back/shoulder) the same day you are doing shoulder presses and arm workouts. Don't work the triceps without working the biceps. Exercise smart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Lower back issues: yes yes yes indeedy. Who don't say... oh my back hurts? Especially those of us who are overweight (OK I have an excuse because I broke my back and arthritis set in... it don't stop me from working out). To avoid lower back pain strengthen your abs and gluteus Maximus when you are exercising. By strengthen I mean squats for the glutes and crunches for the abs. I tie them in with my leg workouts. I also spend 20 minutes a day on the heavy boxing bag. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Boxing bag workouts. I firmly believe in a solid core. Right now, mine is solid fat. But back in December I bought the girls a heavy and speed bag because they wanted to join a local MMA gym. I got to thinking about it. When I was at my fittest, I worked out with the boxing bags. I researched this. It turns out that if you are executing you strikes correctly then you are working your entire core. Twenty minutes on the bag will burn about 250 calories. That is a lot. 30 minutes at a fast walk on the treadmill only burns 70. Strike 15 seconds and dodge and protect 15 seconds is how I do it. Guess what? I was out of breath at about five minutes the first week. Now I do 20 minutes and breathe like I never smoked and sweat like a whore on 2 cent day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I see I went and got all wordy. I am just sharing some tips with you on how I am doing it. How your trainer or doctor or you want to do it is up to you as long as you are on this journey too.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Good luck and don't forget to be accountable to YOURSELF. You can lie to anyone but you cannot lie to yourself.</span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-23709382121750531812014-02-14T12:31:00.002-06:002014-02-14T12:31:35.265-06:00Happy Valentine DaySong of the day: Can't Help (Falling in Love with you) <a href="http://youtu.be/Ajp0Uaw4rqo" target="_blank">UB40</a><br />
but the <strong>REAL </strong>meaning of love and Valentines is: Wild Thing <a href="http://youtu.be/KFb6-4Yhw8U" target="_blank">The Trogs</a><br />
Annnnd what is Valentines day without: Silly Love Songs <a href="http://youtu.be/2_9QooYDYtU" target="_blank">Paul McCartney</a><br />
For Measure, this is #4 on Billboard top 50 love songs: How Deep is your love<a href="http://youtu.be/XpqqjU7u5Yc" target="_blank"> BeeGees</a><br />
For the SOLO: Love hurts <a href="http://youtu.be/GRJaZdodEgI" target="_blank">Nazareth</a><br />
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Mood: Lovey</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">At the end of the day of the 13th of February, every woman has expectations. Even the most pessimistic of those that proclaim Valentine's is for Bozo's (me notwithstanding.) expect something. We are</span> <span style="font-size: large;">bred and born and raised to expect something. I always looked at the holiday with distain. I hated it. If I had a beau on Valentines he didn't give anything and if I was single well... you laid in wait... both scenarios just suck.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now that I am married... well I really don't want it. I don't want the chocolates or the flowers or the cards. BUT Doc really picks out the best freaking cards ever. Did you know that? If you want or need a card... Doc S is the best. Honest. I love to look at the flowers. I do like roses. But the mixed flowers make me smile. Don't get me wrong, the dozen long stem roses screammmmmm... dude you are getting laid... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">All kidding aside. Valentines has now become a VIP thing for the kids. WHY WHY WHY. So, we baked and baked and sprinkled and baked. I'm so sick of baking. And we sat and did Lucy's valentines cards for her class (after the great hunt to find Hello Kitty Valentines) and we ran here and there and you know what? Screw you society for making this a market. Valentines should be fun and all about love and shit like that. Not some fiasco of who can one up another.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But for supper the kids are having a heart shape pizza and I've made my dear husband veggie beef stew. Stew just sounded so good.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Valentine's day. Single or married or refusing to commit. You are special to me.</span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-27876437579986560472014-02-06T14:00:00.000-06:002014-02-24T09:08:43.096-06:00enable this<span style="font-size: large;">Song of the day "Going to a Go Go" Rolling Stones</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">mood: Innervated... watch out</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The last week has been life altering. It sunk in last night. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Last night I watched an hour long program called, "<a href="http://www.tlc.com/tv-shows/my-600-lb-life" target="_blank">My 600 pound life</a>" on TLC. I am not a TV bug but I will occasionally find a program I <a href="http://www.wwe.com/" target="_blank">like</a> and make time to watch it and I will occasionally sit there late at night and surf the channels.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Surfing the channels last night I came across My 600-lb Life. I decided with all the fitness and healthy eating we are doing; it wouldn't hurt to see this. Well, it did hurt. It hit home in areas I was not expecting. The young woman (This is the episode about a 22 year old woman named Christina) has a mom that is an enabler. The doctor in the program points this out a few times.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">That is my focus. Enablers. An Enabler is quite simply a person or thing that makes something possible.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How often do we (as individuals) try to accomplish a goal only to fail at it. Often. Look at your new years resolutions and you will see a few. Why do we fail? We don't fail because we didn't try. We fail because we do not separate ourselves from the people or things that encourage the behavior we want to change.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I lie sometimes. Not often. I am not good at lying so I try not to do it. The biggest lie I have told is why I left NY. And I am going to come clean right here and right now. I am coming clean because it is the first step to me healing from within.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I left NY because I did not want to witness my parents drinking and be a part of it. I did not want to watch my mom die from type 2 diabetes because she was an alcoholic. I did not want to fall into that addictive drinking trap. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Why is it addictive? Think about it. It is really not fun to get snockered and wake up going... what did I do? It is not fun to drink so much you are barfing your guts out and asking someone to bring the sofa into the bathroom because you can't walk and it makes sense (as long as you don't do the size math, which you don't because your not thinking.). The headache the next day, the calories, the expanding waist line, the fair weather friends, the stupid bar games... are they really fun or worth it? No. Fucking No.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Drinking is addictive (in the situation I was in) because you have fallen into a niche of people like yourself. You know who will be the designated driver. You know who will screw you with no strings when you are plastered (ouch did that hurt your feelings?). You know who you can count on to sit next to you at the bar and go one for one because you really want to drown out your shitty ass life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Your life is shitty because you make it shitty.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Guess what? Being healthy is addictive too. There are as many (if not more) enablers that will push you to eat right and workout. Many call these people Libertarians. I don't. Why label?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The hardest part of working out is walking in the door of the gym and realizing that these people are not 1970 movie meat heads. They are very genuine. And if you give them a chance (key words there) they will very kindly push you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The first week I was at the gym I noticed the people giving Eric and I curious glances and making themselves visible. Ever do that? Make yourself visible but not interact? I have. The first day I went without Eric, an elderly man spoke to me. By elderly I mean mid 60-s. He had said his age but I can't remember it. He asked where that strapping young man was I had been dragging in. I didn't tell Eric that part. I explained his work schedule and said, I decided that I was going to workout without him or at least do cardio. The old man smiled. Not just with his mouth. With his eyes and his hands and his body. He said, "One year ago I joined this gym. My doctor said I would not make 70 if I did not exercise and eat right. Five minutes on the exercise bike and I was sweating in a way that people should not sweat. I couldn't breathe. I was seeing little white spots. I was discouraged." at this time we were about ten minutes in on the treadmill and he asked for a minute or two and hiked his machine up to 9MPH and took a 3 minute run on it and slowed it back down/checked his heart rate and wiped his sweat off his face with a small towel. I was trying NOT to stare and kept plugging away at 3 MPH because no way in hell I can do 9. Or is there. He continues, "In one year, I have lost 100 physical pounds or 43% of my body weight." I almost fell off of the damn treadmill. "See, I went home and I ate half a cake. I was depressed and discouraged. I spent my day crying." and I felt sort of choked up inside. We have all done that. Maybe not eaten half a cake... but you know that feeling. He was explaining about how he felt that day for a few minutes. I asked a few questions here and there. Then he said, "I can do pull up's for the first time in my life. I can lift my body weight. All because I came back the second day and did six minutes on the bike and the second week and did ten minutes and the third month and did the treadmill and started with weights." We were about 20 minutes in to our cardio. I said something lame like, "Wow, that is a lot of information to digest." because it was. Here was a man who obviously had come from worse dire straits than I felt I was in. He made a point to try. He became his enabler and the more he showed up the more the people in the gym became his enabler. Encouragement goes much further than we believe.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday was the first day we went to the gym first thing. Again, that hesitation of walking through the door. Because we are used to the people that are there when we are there about 9:30am. Guess what? A lot of those people are there at 7:30 am too. But more VIP there are a lot of people there that are trying. Fat people, thin people, fit people, old people (a lot of old men), and they all had this look in their eyes. Determined.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This gym is not a cheap spot. It is smaller than the chains. It is locally owned. There are a large bank of Cardio machines. In the center are all the machines to use to get started with lifting weights. Along the perimeter there are free weights and stations to do physical things. I keep looking at it like the grocery store. Shop the outside isles. But starting in the center is still a start. I have never been one to like to lift weights. I always went for the aerobic or yoga classes and or using your body as a counter weight. Like when you box the heavy bag. So, it is new to me to build muscle mass to fight fat gain. Something I never would have considered before watching a person on twitter by the name of Mike M. Not that I think his pictures of when I first met him were fat. Because they were not. But his pictures of himself now are amazing. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Can a random stranger be an enabler? Why not? I have given you a few examples. Mike will probably never know I used him (but I will send him an inbox with this story link) as an enabler and that I still use him as an enabler. He very publicly post his workouts. He will say he did 1000 crunches and I am saying... right behind you... I did ten. Well hell... crunches make me have to go to the bathroom. If I did 1000 crunches I'd never make it out of the bathroom. He is not alone. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh my God. I stalk people for their workout routines. What a strange revelation. But I do. I have about a dozen I go and look at the feed. If they have posted about doing something, I go to the gym and ask (one of the meat heads) what the heck it is and if I am physically able to do it. I have not had one tell me I can't do it. I have had them always take the time and show me how to do a pull, weighted squat, hike, curl... oh there are only about 20 things I have learned from twitter that I have taken back to the gym and been shown how to try. Some I even have worked into my routines. I am using twitter as an enabler. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I took a long hard look at my husband when he got out of the shower yesterday. I can't remember the last time I looked at him to see him and not the image of him I created. Guess what? He is sexy as hell. You can see a change in his legs. I could see the muscles showing on his legs and I blushed and told him so. Poor guy. I do love him. I do love that he is trying. I do love how he looked at me like... WTF Jenn. But guess what? I am hoping he see's me as a health enabler and not as his wife that feeds him and makes him fat. Because every time he goes to the gym with me, I feel so encouraged. I feel like we might not be perfect but we are at least trying to do it right. And I feel determined on the days I go alone. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And I look forward to every workout.</span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-10233137283580895652014-02-04T09:03:00.004-06:002014-02-04T09:03:39.105-06:00blocked and blacklisted ... thanks wwe<span style="font-size: large;">Song of the Day: "Complicated" Avril Lavigne</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Mood: ahhh ah ha ha ... run at me</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I can't believe how much WWE has changed our lives in 7 short months. I can't believe it has been 7 months. I am still trying to wrap my head around the changes in the girls and the affect WWE has had on their ASD symptoms.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Each girl is maintaining their favorites.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am really a Randy Orton fan. And the following may lead you to believe other wise but hopefully I will get back to Orton.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">First off, I am not going to apologize for what I said about Orton dating a teen. Be it in real life or for that Diva program; it crossed the line. I am hated by the WWE for having an opinion on this. Yes, the young lady is or was 18 and that is legal. I am not mad at Orton or the woman involved. And that is what I want to clarify. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It made me mad that my 7 year old daughter found a picture and blog post on their relationship and asked me, "Why is that little girl dating a daddy?" And I had to sit there and explain that the woman was in fact not a little girl and that YES Randy Orton is a daddy but not her daddy. I really can not set a parental control on that. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What I don't know is if it was true. And I will apologize for jumping to conclusion. It makes me angry to think that the WWE creative team would come up with this as a possibility to draw more business to the Total Diva program. However, I do not know if the creative team came up with paring Orton and JoJo up for the show. If they did, shame on them, bad business. I am not alone in that thought.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know if it was fan-fic or a personal choice. Those are other possibilities. Fan-fic path... screw you internet asshole. Personal choice... really? I thought a lot higher of both of you. But at the end of the day it is legal. Have at it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I really do not want to reel Lucy in on her internet searches. I firmly believe this child is going to be a historian. She looks up world leaders all the time and historical figures. She also looks up every wrestler mentioned on the air or on the WWE page or in related searches. Lucy, at 7, knows more about wrestling than I ever will. And she tests her family daily on wrestling knowledge. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I really do not think that warrants being on a black list and blocked by the WWE superstars. Fuck you very much.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I sat down a few nights ago and figured it up. We roughly spent $2400 on wrestling stuff since the children discovered WWE in July 2013. How much does the average wrestling fan spend a year on WWE?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What has being black listed cost WWE? For starters, I did not buy 4 front row tickets to WrestleMania (as we had planned). I did not buy (in advance) tickets to Jackson (Tn) Live event or to the Smackdown (Nashville) events. All would have been in close proximity to front row or VIP tickets if available. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What WWE gained from Black Listing me. My last order to the wwe shop got shorted an AJ Lee t-shirt for Lucy. I never bothered to call and tell them. So, you gained $20 bucks. But that entire order was screwed up. I was shorted a Sheamus flag (which I did call about and they did promptly send). They duplicated an order on a Randy Orton coffee cup (at my expense, 2 cups $25... ouch). I did not realize the shirt was shorted until the great hide in the closet to wrap Santa stuff. I double checked the order then and I was charged. But oh well. You gained an extra twenty on the shirt and an extra sale on the Orton mug. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">That is really small potatoes when you look at the potential $8,000 -10 K depending on the spot we could have got for WrestleMania or better you lost on not just ticket sales but merchandise sales at these up coming events. Will you make it up on another family or fans; probably. But you also lost my faith in you and your brand. And that may cost you two life long fans.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How? Well, if I don't take the kids to events... they loose the thrill of the show. Loss of the thrill will eventually lead to loss of interest in the sport. Softball season is coming up and I can very easily make the transition. And,yes, I have taken the kids to several events that relate to WWE.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My dilemma is this; do I make the transition because I am made about being black listed? That is a pretty good topic. See, I firmly believe that wrestling has saved my family. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How did you save us? This is a long and personal story and I have tried to intelligently write on the subject before. I still have the blog post but have hidden them.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But I will tell you this much. My girls both fall in the ASD spectrum. Communication with them is testy at best. I have often felt robbed as a parent and an individual. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I like to play. I always have. I was so excited to have a baby. Even though I had to have Amanda alone; I was hell bent to make the best of it. At 18 months (hours after her shots) my dreams went up in smoke. I spent the next 13 years being very angry. Being very robbed. I couldn't get my child to play. Kids with ASD lack the ability to make believe. I was utterly and completely crushed. Can you imagine waiting 14 years to play with your child? I read post on social media where parents bitch about their kids wanting attention or how they had to watch that damn cartoon again. Do you know what I would give to feel that? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And the subject has brought me to tears. It is so selfish of me. To feel this pity for myself at being robbed of playing with my kids. At least they are healthy. That is what I have to tell myself to stop the tears.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Well, WWE gave me... THAT. They gave me a chance to play with my kids. In a matter of minutes. Boom. My life changed. The first match we saw was a Randy Orton v Alberto Del Rio competition. The girls hated Orton from the word go. I initially decided to play the devils advocate and root for Orton to see what happened.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The girls wrestled. The girls tackled the dog, me, and each other. The cats sort of said "fuck this" and hid. Cats are smart that way. By the end of the first week, the girls loved Sheamus, Daniel Bryan, CM Punk, Ziggler, and Alberto Del Rio. To this day, 7 months later, they are still rooting for them. The only one that ignited them into a debate was if I rooted for Orton. The other heels were tolerated. That is why I stuck to rooting for Orton.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I decided I liked Orton; after a bit. His story line is fantastic. It got better when he isolated and alienated everyone. I guess that leads to why I said what I did about him dating JoJo. It is not that I care who he dates... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I was disappointed that my kid had one up on me. I was disappointed that she had a reason to doubt and hate Orton. I really do not want my kids to hate Orton. I would like them to see the Greco - Roman moves he uses (especially in matches against Ziggler... wow). I really do not want my child to doubt Orton. I would like Lucy to admit that Orton is a good wrestler on merit.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, the way I approached the topic of whom Orton dated was rude. And for my word choice on social media, I do apologize. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have never been a fan of anything but fun. I have never gone out of my way to meet superstars (although I have met quite a few through my past occupations). Twitter is an interesting tool. It gives a large fan basin a chance to interact with their hero's.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In July, I didn't know I needed a hero. I didn't know I needed tears. I didn't know that I had given up on my kids ever being normal. I didn't know my marriage and health was in the shitter. I did not know I needed friends or social media. I didn't know I needed a click.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When Gundy died a big hole was jabbed in my heart. He was the only friendship I bothered to try to maintain over the years and miles. My husband told me that I had lost my soul mate. I never once told Gundy that Amanda was diagnosed with ASD. The week he died was a reunion of team flannel. I had calls from people I had deliberately alienated. I left NY for a reason. Amanda was my reason. I took her far away and hid from my world. I tolerated the calls and letters and friend request on FaceBook. I know they were reaching out. We all lost a major person in our interlocking lives. I can pinpoint his death to my downward spiral. I threw in the towel. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">WWE threw it back at me. WWE gave me a chance to play with my kids. And I am fucking sorry that I used the word choice I did on social media.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-32370895374849426952014-01-31T10:28:00.001-06:002014-01-31T10:28:08.874-06:00talk to meSong of the day- "My Life" Billy Joel<br />
Mood - shockingly GOOD<br />
<br /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am in the mood for a new tattoo. I have been for awhile. I debate on it because I have a teen. Do I do this or just wish I did.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">See, I am gun Ho for just do it. Live your life and don't look back and say I wish I did this or why didn't I do that.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And I am thinking a few kisses. Why? I like kisses.</span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-65746159573602244102014-01-30T12:52:00.003-06:002014-01-30T12:54:03.151-06:00The Hokey Pokey (turn your self about.. Hey)Song of the Day: "If I fall" Five Finger Death Punch<br />
Mood: Oh Yes<br />
<br />
<br />
My family has been in a downward spiral for awhile. I have been working to change that. I feel at every obstacle that comes up I am getting the giant head butt from hell. From each of them. None of them are excluded (myself ?? YIKES)<br />
<br />
<br />
I am at a loss of what to do except to keep pushing.<br />
<br />
<br />
I have (mostly) turned the household diet around. This was met with curiosity and minor resistance. I have no choice. Kids have put on extreme amounts of weight over the winter. The teen has gone up one size and the little one has gone up two. In the little one's defense she has grown 7 inches taller sense November to last week. Hubby and I have pop overs but not the money to replace our wardrobe because we just replaced half of the kids clothes. Maybe next month.<br />
<br />
<br />
But maybe not. I made (evil awful wife I am) my husband join a gym. Of course I joined too. I have always loved working out. He has gone and gone through the paces as his time permits. Me... Me...? You ask???<br />
<br />
<br />
I fell back into workouts (Hook Line and Sinker) like I'd never stopped. In two weeks (with minor diet tweaks and by minor... I mean adding calories) I lost 11 pounds. That is a bag of flour folks. My pop over is not a flop over but a minor pop over. Next goal... baggy pants and or a size down. I do have big long term ambitions but for right now... we will go for small goals.<br />
<br />
<br />
Things happen and we only see what we want to. I am serious as fuck about that. Look in the mirror if you don't believe me. What is the first thing you see? Your best asset. You know it and I know it. I know it because I looked. I gave myself a long hard look in a full length mirror.<br />
<br />
<br />
Guess what? I didn't like what I saw. And IT was hard to admit that. I am not fishing for a compliment. The mirror said... FUCK. And I reflected the word back to it. That was a few months back before Comic Con Nashville. I was insulted. I was hurt. I was mad at myself. I looked for outlets to place the blame and they all boomeranged back to me. Which made me madder.<br />
<br />
<br />
That was when I started to add more fruits and veggies and less sweets. Of course winter and baking hit and holiday food. I seriously tried to limit sweets. I put on another ten pounds. So, you can say I have taken off what I put on over the winter holiday mess. <br />
<br />
<br />
I think half of the problem is the mental stigmatism that because we don't have winter snow... we don't have winter sports. So, after the softball season (probably during it... I have not quite worked out the logistics)... we are joining the DoJo. Why? Because that is something I have always enjoyed doing and I am dragging them into healthy with me. Healthy is not just diet but you have got to have a balance of exercise. I am also secretly hoping that I can meet my smaller goals by working out at the gym and not feeling like a fat momma at the DoJo. I want to be able to do the kicks like I used to. <br />
<br />
<br />
Strikes I am not worried about. I have a heavy bag boxing set-up at the house and I do plenty of strikes. But I have made that a routine too. By just committing to hitting the bag 4 times a week... guess what? I have strengthen my core. How do I know this? Getting in and out of bed for starters. Bending. There are so many cues, I am not listing them all. <br />
<br />
<br />
Guess what we do people? When we have a problem we work with it instead of addressing it. Ever notice you do that? I have a -8.75 vision issue in my right eye. Instead of putting my mascara on with my other hand I reach over my face and do it with one hand. You can tell the people that do that because their mascara is heavier on the eye closer to them or their eye shadow is uneven. Use both hands. THAT is why you have two. Small things.<br />
<br />
<br />
I have not set weight loss as a new years resolution because I have been working on this since October with the family. Maybe being healthier is the resolution. I don't set resolutions normally because I think that they are just unrealistic goals. My goal is to be healthy and my family is going down with me. Will you join us?Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-7392051698033971702013-02-19T00:32:00.002-06:002013-02-19T00:38:07.698-06:00Suicide<table cellspacing="0">
<tbody>
<tr style="font-size: 120%;"><td>Need help? In the U.S., call 1-800-273-8255
<br />
<br />
<tr><td>National Suicide Prevention Lifeline<br />
<br />
Song of the day: Jumper by Third Eye Blind<br />
Mood: Somber<br />
<br />
A year ago I Lost a dear friend to Suicide.<br />
<br />
On Friday my teenager came home from school visibly shaken. She said another student had tried to kill himself in the gym. The students need to gather in the Gym to wait for the bus. She said the boy had been a victim of long time bullying. Just prior to the Suicide attempt he was bullied and had books thrown at him. Her best friends brother was standing near her and he saw the boy (who was very good friends with him) and waved. It was at that moment the boy yelled and threw his stuff down and using his own hands pressed his thumbs into his Adam's apple and choked himself until he turned purple and passed out. My daughters friend rushed over and attempted CPR and a teacher came over and relieved him of the stress of doing that. When they boarded the bus the other student had gained conscious. The kids were told that the boy's parents would be called and he would get help.<br />
<br />
On Sunday Music Star Mindy Mcready succeeded in killing herself. She had attempted it many times.<br />
<br />
I have a zero tolerance for Suicide. I've looked down that barrel so many times and at 41 years old I still lack the ability to comprehend it. Which is why I picked "Jumper". The song is about not understanding suicide. It is also about accepting a person's choice to commit the act. I do not accept a person's choice to take their own life.<br />
<br />
My very first exposure to it was with a friend Laurie Davis. I didn't even know what suicide was. She ended up in the hospital a few times. She said she ran from the shadows. She explained that she hurt so bad that she just wanted to die. I knew she was bullied. Hell we all were to some extent. I told her that. She said she just couldn't take it. How did I deal with it? I said deal with it? I was always the new kids. We always moved around. I was bullied a lot. And I just didn't get a shit. My theory was that if the other kids were picking on me they were leaving someone else alone. I tried to protect some kids too. I'd see them picking on a child and I'd get in the way and tell them that I'd seen better bullies in 5th grade (and that was true... I'd grown up on base and then in a haughty beach area). And I had quite a friend base in middle school. It just rolled off of me. Laurie never got that. I wrote this:<br />
<br />
Shadow For Laurie Davis 1983<br />
<br />
A shadow in the doorway<br />
hear foot prints in the hall<br />
but the
room is dark<br />
and your calling me home<br />
but I run<br />
run from the
shadows<br />
I run from fear<br />
and every day passed<br />
long and waiting<br />
Hon.,
I feel you<br />
your blessed pain<br />
How I wish I could help you<br />
But I
run<br />
run from the shadows<br />
the walls are closing in<br />
the shadows here to
stay<br />
and I leave that door wide open<br />
pity for tear stained eyes<br />
I cant
see the day<br />
so, I run<br />
run from the shadows,<br />
I cant feel the fall <br />
<br />
I tried to put myself in her shoes. I also wrote from her point of view (she'd given me a folder of notes she wrote, suicide notes, and asked my opinion.) I came up with this:<br />
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
Pounding Clown 1986 </h3>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-3698345015943910401" itemprop="description articleBody">
The pounding clown<br />
Do you see the pounding
clown<br />
crying in anguish<br />
trying to rejoice<br />
Do you see his
tears<br />
gliding down his face<br />
slipping into yet another line<br />
Do you see
his bleary eyes<br />
hiding pain<br />
sheltering misery<br />
Do you see his phony
smile<br />
a little rough around the edges<br />
almost believable from all the
pretending<br />
Do you see the pounding clown<br />
the fool with tear stained
eyes<br />
and fading smiles<br />
Do you know the Fool above<br />
the pounding
clown<br />
With tear stained eyes<br />
and fading smiles<br />
The clown is me</div>
<br />
<br />
In high school there was a boy. He went by Porkchop. I don't know his real name. I think I did at one point. But it has escaped me now. He was a friend of mine. He wanted to be called Porkchop. It was not bullying that gave him that name. He killed himself on my birthday over a girl he had a crush on that told him she didn't even like him as a person. In 1986/87 school year they did not do grief counseling. Besides, school was out for winter break when it happened. Would my opinion be different if they had offered us help? I don't think so. I was very angry that he did it. I thought the excuse was lame. He was a fun person to hang out with in the hall. He always laughed. More importantly he always smiled. Even if he was in a rush, he'd offer you a wave (or return one) and a smile. He loved football. We'd sit at the lunch table and talk who did what on our team and local teams playing. We really were not friends, we knew each other. I stopped taking Lunch because my schedule got moved around. That was in 9th grade. I still enjoyed the smile and wave from a boy that took the time to let me sit at his table (no matter how brief the experience was) when I was a new student at a new school.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to summer. My friend Ted F that I knew before R-C-S had a best friend named Ted. Ted2's little brother Austin was in my grade. Over summer break their mom died. Before school started Austin committed suicide. I did not have the best relationship with my mom so I really didn't get why he did that. Ted1 told me that Austin and his mom were like pea's in a pod. I still did not get it.<br />
<br />
My next experience was near the end of high school or after it ended. It was when my friend HFSIV left our friend NYPITA a suicide note. We drove all over looking for him. We went to all his fav spots. He had ended up at his mom's. His attempt was in the back of her car. He meant business even tho he did not succeed. He cut his veins vertically. I was very angry. When I got done being angry I was sad. When I got done being sad I wrote this:<br />
<br />
<div align="center">
</div>
<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
Another Tear- 1988 </h3>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-4514872519752508988" itemprop="description articleBody">
Another Tear<br />
Another tear<br />
slides down
my face<br />
another step<br />
into emptiness<br />
then I opened my eyes<br />
and saw
you were gone<br />
and<br />
another tear<br />
slides down my face<br />
I had to close my
eyes<br />
I couldn’t watch<br />
as you walked away<br />
and<br />
another tear<br />
slides
down my face<br />
will you forget<br />
will you remember<br />
but as for now<br />
it’s
not to late<br />
won’t you hesitate<br />
turn back your pace<br />
before<br />
Another
Tear<br />
Slides down my face<br />
to HFS IV </div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
So, I escaped high school without a suicidal thought to harm myself. Well I did threaten it once to get my own way, but I really was not serious. I just did not want to do what my mom wanted me to do. She had me committed to CDPC for a 72 hour cooling off period. LOL. Bitch. I explained to them what I did and why I did it. I explained over and over that I honestly was not suicidal. I just wanted my way. I got sneaky after that. I never thought of Suicide for myself again. I just waited until she went to bed and snuck out and did what I wanted.</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
I really did not get exposed to suicide again until I worked at the prison. That was interesting. They did an evaluation of me and put me on the mental health ward. Thanks asshats. I had to deal with convicted felons on a daily basis trying to kill themselves. One man. I of course can't state his name. He was a "cutter". Cutters will slash themselves in front of you and time your response. Most cutters make superficial cuts. Enough to bleed but not enough to actually bleed out. He pulled that crap in front of me. He came to me with two bloody arms. The other convicts waited and watched. I let him stand there and bleed. After maybe two minutes he asked, "Why aren't you calling for backup?" I told him to go run his arms under cold water and apply pressure. If he died it was one less fuckhead my taxes had to support. And once he got the bleeding under control that he needed to clean up the bloody mess on the floor. I never had a problem from the mental health ward after that. Gee, I wonder why. I did document it. I did report it to my commanding officer. Lawrd, LT had a belly laugh over that one. Convicts made a wide berth when they passed me outside. Hell, I was feared.</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
A few years ago I moved to Tennessee. We were up in Illinois attending a family medical emergency and my oldest daughter got a phone call and went into a panic. It was her only friends mother and she told my kid that her kid had been kidnapped. Her name was also Laurie. This Laurie did end up killing herself. And there was a lot of fallout and I had to talk to my (at the time) tween about suicide and why people did it. And I was mad at a dead person for putting me in that position. Very mad.</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
On Feb 22 2012 I learned that my friend Gundy had tied a rope around his neck and jumped from the second floor. Gundy was one of the strongest friends I ever had. He hurt me. I'd never felt pain like I did the day I got that call. I never cried like I did that day. For a week it was an effort to lift my head and do the things I had to get done. I was mad. I was sad. I was numb. I never thought that as an adult one of my oldest and strongest adult friends would do this. I still lack the ability to comprehend what he did. A year later I am still mad. A year later I am still sad. A year later I can't put it to bed. He was almost 16 years older. What could be so bad that an adult ends their life? How could I have been a better friend. I do not blame myself for his death. But I wish he'd called. I wish he wrote me a letter. I wish I knew he was in that much pain. Maybe I could accept that. Everyone I have talked to has said the same thing. The last time they saw him, he was happy. They did not know he was depressed. They did not know he was hurting. They did not know. And that just sucks. I also learned some cool things. Things he did the last few years that made me smile. So, he might have had an issue that none of us knew about BUT he was still having fun.</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
I write this post for a reason. I want people to know that suicide is very real. It is something that changes a survivors life forever. I can remember details back to my first exposure to it in 1983 like it was yesterday. I can feel the fear and confusion rushing against my frontal lobe and threatening to give me a concussion. </div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" itemprop="description articleBody">
I write this post because I feel there are so many ways to get help. I offered the Suicide Prevention number as the very first thing. Get help if you need it. It does not have to be a friend or a family member that you turn to. Sometimes talking to a perfect stranger is what you need. Share this if you like. Share the phone number. Help others get help. It might just be a matter of putting the number on your social network wall that helps a complete stranger. It might be sharing like I am that gets someone some help. You never know.</div>
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</td></tr>
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</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-14940147971304544202013-02-18T23:04:00.000-06:002013-02-18T23:21:08.771-06:00a Year in reviewMood... Sad and yet happy<br />
Song of the day, Skid Row, I remember you<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dC2uXZmn1Lo/USMLtADxeWI/AAAAAAAAAdw/KSAEc8lkm34/s1600/857416_614737118542243_666575781_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dC2uXZmn1Lo/USMLtADxeWI/AAAAAAAAAdw/KSAEc8lkm34/s320/857416_614737118542243_666575781_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It has been a year since Gundy passed. An entire year. It is still very hard to believe. I had a phone call today from his other friend, Ray Smith. Ray really put my mind and heart at ease. There were questions I had and he very patiently answered me. We never met, we only know each other through stories that Gundy told each of us.<br />
<br />
So. I learned my beloved friend learned to text. The little shit. I am having a beer. Please excuse my language. I'm still angry with him for the way it went down... him being Gundy. But, yet, I have to smile. He learned to text. The very last conversation I had with him was when I went to NY when Grandma had passed away. He came over one night that I was there and he met my kids and visited with my family, and most important he visited with me. He made it OK that Gram had passed and I was not "home" when it happened. We stayed up late and talked. He left somewhere around 3am. That was the last I saw him. A few months later I called the New Baltimore gas station and he yelled at me. It was something about having a cell phone shoved down his throat. I thought.. he was yelling at me.. What I heard him tell the other person in the booth was, "This is why I don't answer the phone at home, because people get on it and want to talk." I hung up and never tried to contact him again. I am very thin skinned and do not take rejection well. But his friend, told me that Rich actually took to the cell phone and became an avid texter. I love to text. I'd have loved to wear him out on it.<br />
<br />
I also learned that he got to see the new (F**king) Mets stadium. That Ray took him and he thought it was neat. Gundy thought everything was neat. That was his thing. If he really liked it, he called it neat. I choked on tears when Ray said it. He said it like Richard, and I'm not sure if Ray knew how life sometimes mimics art and at that exact moment... they were one. One with the word neat.<br />
<br />
I have to recant on my prior post. I'd written it when I was grief stricken. I was talking to Ray and suddenly the night Gundy and I met came to clear focus. Yes it was foggy and it was dark. Scott C and I had broken up and I made a point to leave the hot shops after the pack because I just did not want to be near Scott or our mutual friends. Thin skinned. I'd cut across the NB parking lot and was about to Jump the guardrail and Gundy appeared next to me and spoke. Something like, "I don't like you walking across the parking lot alone." and I missed the guard rail with my hand and went ass over tea kettle over it; ending in a face plant in the parking lot. I then got up and started to run for my car. Gundy in pursuit. "I'm not going to hurt you. I work out here..." and other calming words being howled my way and me running blindly for my car. I unlocked the door and broke the door handle on that Dodge Charger. I turned to face my foe knowing I was dead. And it was then that I recognized who he was. It was then that I felt OK and knew he was the gentle giant that worked in the NB gas booth whenever he could.<br />
<br />
Let us talk about the day of damnation. The day that sealed the pact that we were friends and there was nothing that " life the universe and everything - Douglas Adams" that could be done about it. We were across the Hudson at a car show. I'm thinking down around Rhinebeck. It was suppose to be 60' that day and windy. And it wasn't. He showed up at God's hour, or before 11am anyway. I had school the prior day and worked the 3-11 at one job and over night at the fox run. We had agreed to leave about 1pm. He showed up. Picked my ass up and threw me in the pool. Good morning Jenn. Yea, F U too. Well he didn't quite throw me into the pool because I was fighting him by the time he carried me that far and yelling that if your going to wake me up to show the F up with coffee. So, my head got dunked over the side of the pool a few times with him laughing hysterical. yea. So I took a quick shower and got dressed. We wore Jeans, T-shirts, and brought our flannels JUST in case. We ate when we got there. Well. Here is what happened. We were there about 30 minutes and clouds rolled in and the wind kicked up. I took his keys and ran to the truck and grabbed our flannels and met back up with him at the vendor area. We pulled on our flannels at the same time. I happened to hit my boob. Let me back up a second. My boob's grew in in middle school. I went from a training bra to a C cup and they were not firm. They were big squishy things. So, I was rather shocked when my arm whacked one and it was firm. I kinda stopped. Squished my boob a few times. By that time he'd turned and was watching me. His story was he was talking to me and walking and I wasn't there. Yea... peep show... lol. Anyway, he yells, "We are in PUBLIC, what in the hell are you doing?" and I leaned over and told him. He casually leans in and squishes my boob. Makes eye contact with me. and very earnestly states, "It feels like a boob to me, let me feel the other..." And squished the other. The other was still very firm because it had not been squished by warm hands a few times. He opened his mouth to say something, looked around, turned beet red, put his arm around me and walked me away mumbling about the people gawking. I looked around and there were like 5 people looking all aghast. Needless to say...he did pick on me forever and a day over that one.<br />
<br />
There was baseball. We always promised to catch a subway series (even tho I didn't like either team) together. And he always went without me. I'd get so mad. But the first year we talked of it was the year I worked for the parks and rec in New Baltimore. We had a pilot program at the park out by my parents house. I went and hung out with the kids for 4 hours a day (between work and school and whatever young adult things I did). We scored free tickets for a few AC Yankee games. Daryl Strawberry was down because of his drugs (and what an ass he was) and the up and coming Derrick Jeter was there. Jeter stole my heart. He stopped and went under the yellow tape and knelt down and talked to the kids and signed what they had to offer for signatures. He said he would be a star some day. And he was so very cute. His eyes were soooooo very.... YUM. And then he tanked ME for bringing a car load to watch him play. I went to every AC Yank's game I could get tickets to. YUM YUM. I never met him after that time but I did enjoy going. So, that was what started the Subway series banter with us. Jeter got called up and I wanted to go and see him play with the big boys. Gundy said he'd only go if it was the subway series and he could see his boys play. <br />
<br />
Gundy was a very private man about some things. Most things. We did have a tradition. I'm not sure when it started. And all stories prior faded in an instant. And all stories after held no Candle. It was the story when little Smitty got his Make A Wish. I never saw Rich cry. I never heard him speak softly. I never saw the twinkle in his eye like a new day. We were sitting at the dinning room table at my parents. It was my birthday. I'm thinking it was me being bummed about my birthday that started the tradition a few years prior. Anyway. Our tradition was to pick the best story of the year and retell it. Yes. A small speck of positiveness to break up the monotony of asshole relatives. I, didn't know about little Smitty. I pulled out the article (I'd cut it out of the paper and saved it.) and said, this is my fav story of the year. About a little boy I didn't know that had a serious medical condition and he got to meet the NY Yankee's. And that my attitude about the Yankee organization had done a U-turn. He looked at the article and grinned. It was just a little blurb I'd found reading the paper on a midnight shift. There was not much to it. I said, my only wish, would be to know more about it. How the kid felt. It had to have been the best day of his life.<br />
<br />
Gundy, his eyes misted. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. He then took a generous swig of his beer and got another one. "They showed up with Limos. The limos took little Smitty to NYC..." and the story went on. It felt like I was on the edge of a giant cliff. My heart was in my throat the entire time. Tears came freely. It was the BEST story ever. Then he said he wanted to tell me about little Smitty. And he told me the story of a little boy who was given a few years to live when he was born because of backwards organs. And he passed the few years. And that every year was a gift.<br />
<br />
And every day is a gift. That is something in this day and age we really need to remember. You never know when your life will be taken from you. There is no room to be an ass. There is no room to not live each and every day to the fullest. It has taken me many years to understand this lesson.<br />
<br />
I was friends with Gundy for 11 years. I left NY in the middle of the night in the middle of a snow storm and really did not look back until Gram died. It was like I suddenly grew up the day I had to go back to NY.<br />
<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-50882754569417595452012-02-22T21:43:00.002-06:002012-02-22T22:38:23.399-06:00Good Bye to a friendSong of the day: "Tears in Heaven" Eric Clapton<br />Mood of the day: somber, sad, crushed<br /><br />I learned the other day I lost my best and favorite friend. Mr Richard <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundersen</span> Jr. AKA "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">GUNDY</span>" and please make sure you get it as "sen" and not "son" as it was his largest pet peeve.<br /><br />As I sit here crying, I can hear <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> saying, "None of that now." and yet I can not stop the paths of salt water from leaking.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> helped to build me as a person, he gave me confidence when I had none (well the beer helped some days too), he was always there (even if he acted annoyed) for me, and most of all I returned the favor.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> entered my life on an awful night when I was 17. I had worked late and had to walk to that horrible parking lot in the south <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">forty</span>. I did not mind the walk. I minded being a young girl, it being dark and foggy, and the whole isolation from the world I felt walking <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">through</span> the mist. He appeared at my shoulder and in his happy go lucky voice said, "Not a good night for a girl to walk alone." I felt no fear of his 6'5 frame and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">ZZ</span> top (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">OK</span> well it was shorted than that but... this is blogger) beard. I knew him from afar. I had waved at him several times when he worked the North Bound station. We walked to my car and chatted. For hours. I said I had to get home before my mom started to worry. He said he could follow me home and pick me up and we could have a beer. Honest Ed here said no. I was too young. <br /><br />But that did not stop us from starting a great friendship. I am sure I will miss like everything important but here is a shot at the things we did together.<br /><br />We loved to explore. For the better side of ten years you could find me co-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">pilot</span> of one of his Ford Rangers. I will start with a drinking story.<br /><br />When I was of age to drink, and had drank prior to this... <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> did not break my drinking Cherry! We were out back <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">roading</span>. Yep. Drinking and driving. Or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">uth</span>... easing a few back. I was tired and stressed from my mom and school and working ... oh just little life things. My cat Emerson had died. I was sad and weak. I didn't work that night but I called the station and asked him if he could swing by after work and pick me up. He was game. He turned the horrible day into one of the funniest ever. <br /><br />We picked up two 6 packs of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Molson</span> Ice from the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sunoco</span> station. We were <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">doodling</span> around and I had to pee. He stopped. Let me back up a second... I hated to pee outside. I was always afraid a rabid <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">raccoon</span> would bite me in the ass! So, I made it short and sweet. I got back in the truck and took the last beer with a solid oath. He said we'd make another beer run, he was low on gas. Me... in my drunken stupor said... "How do you know that your low on gas?" Meaning more... I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">couldn't</span> find the gas <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">gage</span> on the Ford dashboard.... he says.... "DO YOU SEE THAT GAS PUMP OVER THERE?" and I looked. Out the window. Rolled the window down. Looked behind us. Looked into the woods. Looked at him. "W-w-where? am I missing something?" (I was so blitzed I was looking for an actual GAS PUMP like there was a magic gas <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">station</span> in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Timbuktu</span>. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> was laughing so hard it was like deep takes of air. The truck went into park, the lights went off, and he hung his head on the steering wheel choking on laughter trying to catch his breath. SO.... I started laughing too.... it was contagious. He gets control of himself and asks... "Why are you laughing.... were you <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error">pranking</span> me by looking around?" and that made me laugh harder ( I was a tad bit of a prankster) (just a tad).... and I started laughing harder and was suddenly in the position he'd been in a few moments <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">earlier</span>. So, we'd get control of each other, make eye contact, and start cracking up. Then... there were headlights, and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">red lights</span>, and my coat over the beer. <br />Officer - Is everything OK here?<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> - Yes. She won't stop laughing. I had to pull over because I was laughing and I did not want to wreck my truck.<br />Officer - Miss.... what were you laughing about....<br />me- deer in headlights look- I forgot and that caused us both to start laughing..... again.... and then the officer starts laughing.... and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> is trying to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">squeak</span> out about having to get gas before he took me the rest of the way home.<br />Officer - Miss.... why is getting gas funny<br />me- <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">because</span> as he said that I farted ( I couldn't think of anything else to say).<br />Officer - Sir, good luck with that one. Have a nice night and please move along. <br /><br />So, we started to laugh again and the officer left and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> eased it into drive and headed back to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sunoco</span>.<br /><br />I started a series of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">story's</span> once and named them <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> tales. I will have to see if I can turn them up. It was more like an ode to our <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tenure</span> at Mobil New Baltimore.<br /><br />Then there was the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_34" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Newspaper</span> box <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">massacre</span>.<br /><br />Someone was steeped at the local rag. The newspaper boxes you put change in and get your paper from were coming up missing and turning up in the Henry Hudson River. It was on the news, in the (cough cough) paper, and all over word to mouth. We were heading to a car show and talking about it. It was about the time Stephen King came out with that (fucking) book "IT" and we passed a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_36" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">road sign</span> that had a word out of the book on IT... I cant remember if it was one of the peoples names or what. And my mind clicked the magic link.<br />Me- VENDING MACHINE <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">MASSACRE</span><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_38" class="blsp-spelling-error">GUNDY</span> - What ?<br />Me - we should totally clip the articles and send them to Stephen King for his next <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_39" class="blsp-spelling-error">POS</span><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_40" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span>- write it yourself...<br /><br />OK that was lame. Fast Forward to team Flannel.<br /><br />There was a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_41" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">scary</span> night. I got a phone call from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_42" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span>. Rarely did he call. He'd either show up or I'd call <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_43" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">him</span>, etc so on and forth.<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_44" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gundy</span> - I just got out of the hospital. I'm coming over we are having a beer.<br />me- WHAT?<br />click.<br />So, he shows up. And he tells me his doctors name is Dr <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_45" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ramashawami</span> and if anything should happen to him and I am around the Dr's card is in his wallet and I am to page him. And then there was something about writing me as a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_46" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">beneficiary</span>. I didn't know what that was so he explained that after his mom, if something happened to him, I was taken care of. I am sure that has changed.<br /><br />Oh there is so much. I am so overwhelmed with gief, I can't think clearly. I want to get to the Nishiki Mountan bike, the kiss, the friendship, graduation, him getting mad at me... me leaving NY.... I just cant. I've lost my friend. I am so sad I am in physical pain.<br /><br />Gundy. RIP. This will be continued when I have the strength.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-23468787395152030302011-07-12T20:55:00.001-05:002011-07-12T20:55:55.663-05:00Hmmm<div><p>Rescue group just emailed me what the discrepency is. Don't make loosing your dog any better but maybe the issue can be fixed.</p>
</div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-48180701974963250502011-07-02T13:12:00.001-05:002011-07-02T13:12:41.122-05:00There are no words 2 explain laughter.<div><p><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XUWfL32S5PA&feature=youtube_gdata_player">Watch "On The Rocks - Bad Romance" on YouTube</a><br>
</p>
</div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-54707684122578754432011-05-25T12:10:00.001-05:002011-05-25T12:10:41.272-05:00Awoke with a start and it wasnt st nick<div><p>Crack boom bam...I jump from the bed near FIVE am on Tuesday morning...rush to the window...throw back the curtain and start screaming for the kids TO GET TO the bathroom. I chased them in there and threw a mattress over their head and told them to HANG ON...to each other..the mattress ...whatever!</p>
<p>They said it was an EF2 in surrounding areas but said nothing about here. It landed a portion of the tree in my parking spot and up against the house. INCHES from the house. </p>
<p>There are times in my life when I have said I fell in a pile of shit and came out smelling like a rose. This is one. Let's rewind to the night before. Kids and I ran out for an errand. When we came home...I overshot my parking spot. So I parkd in Doc S's. He was at work. I brought my keys out 2X when I walked the dog with the intent to move it...and fianally resolved that HE could park in one of the 2 remaining spots when he got off work in the morning. </p>
<p>The tree was placed in my parking spot. God was looking out for us!</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_KmC9Z9TkJMU/Td04DmuAkBI/AAAAAAAAAdk/rpEDW6zbEKw/20110524113422.png' /></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-61071605334731601232011-05-25T12:01:00.001-05:002011-05-25T12:01:37.789-05:00We spent a few days in STL area<div><p>...we had a few unexpected days of downtime in STL. We were visiting Doc S's dad in the hospitial. He is in critical condition. If you pray may I ask for your supportive prayers. Thanks.</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_KmC9Z9TkJMU/Td01776Nz4I/AAAAAAAAAdg/1LCfd8kDqgY/1305914718847.png' /></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-30708794718024025832011-05-25T11:57:00.001-05:002011-05-25T11:57:20.784-05:00The baseball season distraction<div><p>As Phineas is pointing out... baseball season has reared its head and we are full swinging STL Cardinal fans.</p>
<p>In other news. Doc S bought me the complete works od Aristotle at the used bookstore the other day. Been busy busy busy reading. Ahhhhh brainfood.</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_KmC9Z9TkJMU/Td007txCxxI/AAAAAAAAAdc/J9xnwrU4fXI/1303957187705.png' /></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-58302744769827241202011-05-08T20:45:00.000-05:002011-05-08T20:46:21.155-05:00Happy Mother's day to allto the men<br /><br />http://youtu.be/DOKuSQIJlog<br /><br />to the ladies<br /><br />http://youtu.be/80olbDws8r0Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-26871515417279306112011-05-02T07:01:00.004-05:002011-05-02T07:23:13.193-05:00Happy Anniversary of sortsSong of the day, "Darlington County" Bruce Springsteen<br /><br />"The Cumberland River has crested at 12 feet above flood level" Scott Potter, Director of water services, Metro Nashville, Davidson County, Tennessee.<br /><br />If you are reading this and live in the metro area or one of the countless counties that were affected by the May 2010 floods, congratulations you survived. We have reached our benchmark one year anniversary since the historic day.<br /><br />Many homes, including ours, were affected by the flood. Many homes, including ours, is still under a rebuild situation. FEMA did not offer enough money (well actually when you have to appeal 2x and beg for assistance, they don't offer a damn thing and by the time they helped it was to late) to make the repairs. By the time they did help the original damaged had spread. They refused Mitigation repairs.<br /><br />Our foundation is unstable because we had to fix the bathroom floors where the water seeped in. We had to do this before we had an issue with mold. This took precedence over fixing the foundation. FEMA awarded us $1600 to cover the damage to the air duct vents, to dry out the crawls space and fix damage to the underlay (that prevents exposure to Radon), repair the foundation, and fix the areas (bathroom's and back kitchen wall) where water had seeped in. The reality was it was enough to buy the supplies to fix the floors and lay one floor down. They said we could take a SBA loan. I am happy we elected not to as the people that did are being told to now REPAY IT or have their homes taken from them. REALLY?<br /><br />FEMA and the insurance company refused to help us with food, and our driveway, and the water moccasins. Having no power for extended days, the food in the freezer (and everything in the fridge) had to be tossed as we do not currently own a generator. The driveway was washed out, as a matter of a fact the FEMA inspectors had to park at the neighbors and walk in because they would not cross the raging river of our driveway. See May 2010 post for pic's of that beast. It cost over $2000 to fix the driveway. There is also an issue with the retaining wall in back of the house. That is crumbling. But that is considered mitigation and FEMA would not assist in that. The other side affect of the flood were the influx of water moccasins. One of the 5 deadly snakes in the USA and we had a nest of over 50.<br /><br />FEMA allowed us to live an entire year in hell and terror. Might as well live in a 3rd world country.<br /><br />If our county received monies for mitigation they did not fix the county road in front of our home. The road shows signs of imminent fatigue and I await the day it collapses so we can sue.<br /><br />We can't sell our home like it is. We do not have the money to fix it and there is NO aid for people. Although the GRAND OL OPERY received 20 BILLION dollars in FEMA aid. IS that right or fair on some scale? There are thousands of people in the situation we are in and they gave GOO 20 BILLION and Gaylord entertainment BRAGGED about it.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-37454298124725251182011-05-02T06:38:00.005-05:002011-05-02T07:01:20.258-05:00Zippity DO DahSong of the day, "In the air tonight" Phil Collins<br /><br />Quote of the day, "Osama Bin Laden is Dead" Headlines nationwide.<br /><br />Last night President Obama announced to the US people that Osama Bin Laden is dead. That he had been killed a week ago in a drone air strike. The US military confiscated the body and performed a DNA test against his sister's brain.<br /><br />I have a lot of feelings about this and possibly none are good.<br /><br />I would love to celebrate and be the sheep behind closed eyes. However, my brain don't work like that. I am under no illusion of nationwide grandeur. We need to understand that although this appears to be a good thing, the man behind the terror attacks on the US has been removed from existence of life; but we need to consider the hierarchy of government.<br /><br />The Romans introduced the structured governments that we know today. Many places use similar governments. Removing one person from the government, vacates a spot for another to take his or her place. A prime example being our government. When JFK was assassinated, Lyndon B. Johnson took over the position of Commander and Chief until the next election. Because the structure of our government is set up like that. Please do not fool yourself. Terrorist are not much different.<br /><br />The second in the line of command for al-Qaeda is Ayman <em>al</em> Zawahiri. This man has been in training since he was 15 years old. He was born on June 19, 1951. You do the math. He has been a terrorist in training for as long as I have been alive. You can read more on him <a href="http://terrorism.about.com/od/groupsleader1/p/Zawahiri.htm">HERE</a>.<br /><br />Please as you celebrate, understand, this is a false sense of security. Our security levels has been elevated to ORANGE for a reason. Either our informants have notified us of talks of retaliation on the matter of OSB or something else.<br /><br />When they first announced that the President would speak last night, we firmly believed that this had to do with Qaddafi. That he had swore a vengeance for the loss of his son and grand children. Maybe he was killed to and we will hold the body on ice until closer to election to make it look good. And claim he was killed in a different Nato air strike. The government did withhold critical information for over a week on OSB. <br /><br />Keep your wool, my eyes can see.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-32210580224891611272011-04-22T19:47:00.003-05:002011-04-22T20:22:20.497-05:002 RECIPES TO SHAREBaby Wipe Recipe<br /><br />YOU WILL NEED<br />wipe sized container that seals.<br />soft paper towels we use Viva by Kleenex<br />Organic (really your choice, recommend Aveeno) baby wash<br />Organic (again your choice regular or organic) baby oil. I like to use <span style="font-weight: bold;">sunflower oil</span> because it is natural. Baby oil is scented Mineral oil which is a petroleum by product. Again your choice of oil but you want something lite. Jojoba oil is also a good choice.<br />water<br />Rosemary essential oil<br /><br />With a carpet knife or good kitchen knife cut the paper towel roll in half. If you can work then center roll out that makes the wipes easier to use. I use the paper towels that have 3 sizes per sheet and tear each individual one.<br /><br />I use 1/4 cup of oil and lotion. mix together in a bowl with 20 drops of Rosemary essential oil. The Rosemary oil will cut down on bacteria growth without having to use a preservative. The recipe calls for equal parts of water (boil and stir into the mixture) but I have a hard time mixing oil with water so I lightly spritz the paper towels so they are barely damp. <br /><br />now put 1/4 lotion solution in the bottom of the container. put half the paper towels in. put 1/2 the lotion solution in the center. top with remaining paper towels and top with remaining lotion solution.<br /><br />CLOSE box. Turn upside down. every ten minutes flip the box to other side until wipes are saturated all the way through.<br /><br />This product will go bad after about a month because it contains no chemicals so don't make it until you are ready to use it. Babies like warm wipes. DO NOT put a wipe warmer on this concoction because it will encourage it to go bad sooner. You CAN hold the wipes in your warm mommy hands for a few seconds before use to take the chill off.<br /><br /><br /><br />Diaper Cream<br />This takes 2 weeks to make but you make 8 4oz jars!<br />STEP 1<br />2 cups calendula flower<br />1 cup comfrey leaf<br />1 cup chamomile flower<br />1 cup lavender flower<br />4 cups of oil ... olive, grapeseed, or sweet almond work the best<br /><br />Place the Herbs and oil in a glass jar. Cover tightly with a lid. Place in a warm sunny place (like a picture window for 2 weeks.<br /><br />STEP 2<br />set up a double boiler (after the 2 weeks have passed... it is OK if it goes longer than 2 weeks!)<br />Using a strainer lined with cheesecloth, strain the oil mixture into the double boiler. (gently wrap the cheese cloth around the herbs and squeeze as much oil out as you can.) heat on low setting for 20-45 minutes. If you see "floaters" that escaped the first strainer, when mixture is cooled to room temp, strain it again!<br /><br />Back in the double boiler warm mixture to 150 degrees and add 1/4 cup of beeswax for each cup of oil. Stir occasionally to make sure beeswax is melting. Either buy beeswax pellets or grate it off of a block. I put in the ratio to the oil in case you need to scale back the recipe to make a smaller amount.<br /><br />Once the beeswax is melted take a tablespoon and dip it so there is a small amount pooled in the spoon and place on a paper towel in the freezer for about 5 minutes. pull out and check it. If the consistency feels too thick add more oil an ounce at a time. If the mixture seems to thin add more beeswax. <br /><br />When you get the consistency you want add a tablespoon of Rosemary Essential oil or Orris root (root of white iris dried ground and grated) IF you have a special scent you want for your ointment now is the time to add the essential oil or scent. You will need about a tablespoon for entire mixture but start with a dropper full and stir, then smell... add it to your sense of smell. let the mixture cool. beat it every 10 minutes with a wire whisk to prevent separation. When at room temp pour into your 4 ounce containers. Refrigerate unopened containers or give to friends with babies. <br /><br />Once again, this is a natural/organic product. IT WILL GO bad within a month. If the mixture turns color or starts to smell different, toss it.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11383957.post-86786923967963656992011-04-11T23:32:00.002-05:002011-04-11T23:52:18.546-05:00Favorite Christmas Story/Baseball StorySong of the day, "Tears in Heaven" Eric Clapton<br /><br />Quote of the day, "Cooperstown is the Greatest place on Earth" Bob Feller<br /><br />Back in the day when I worked two jobs and went to college full time, oh and when I still had a heart and gave a crap about the world and it's going ons'. An curious thing happened. I was working my 2nd shift job at a gas station and one of the veteran employees came in and he said, "Jenn I need to tell you what I did on my days off." I said OK and listened and wept as Rich told me this story. <br /><br />Background, Rich is a lifelong resident in Saugerties NY and a Mets fan. His neighbor and good friend Smitty had a son born with a genetic disorder where all his organs were in the mirror image of normal organs. All backwards even the heart was backwards and on the wrong side of the chest. Smitty was also the chief of police. His son had been entered in the "Make a Wish Foundation" and his number was up. He was 11 at the time and we will call him Little Smitty.<br /><br />Little Smitty was not expected to live to see one say nothing about making it to the unheard of 11 years old. But a body born defective can only mature so far and then begin to compromise the promise of tomorrow. I know not the outcome of Little Smitty as I left New York and I weep as I write this.<br /><br />His make a wish was drawn. His wish was to see a baseball game live. He loved the Yankee's. He is forgiven. He was only a kid. Boomer, Jeter, Strawberry, were all fresh. Joe was still catching and Darrell hadn't been busted for cocaine. And it was a night game in the fall. I remember there was the fear that little Smitty would come down with something.<br /><br />A limo came to the house and took the Smittys and Rich to the ballgame. When they got there Little Smitty (not the entire family, just the one that counted) was invited to the dugout. He got to watch the game from the dugout! Lucky 4 star word. Joe talked baseball trash with him and Jeter tossed a ball with him and Boomer told him he could be a Yankee one day if he got his little butt better. They made the kids life. The Yankee's made a memory for me. They embraced this little boy and gave him the game of his life. They even won that night.<br /><br />There were more words than that. The Story from Rich went well into the night. He kept remembering little things that they could see from their prime seats. In the end, it was good. Real Good. Little Smitty even got a Christmas Card that year signed from everyone on the team.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10319000223773398092noreply@blogger.com0