TOMORROW? 2010 WILL BE LEFT

This is the last day of 2010. (You're welcome.) I don't think I've ever arrived at the end of a year and said, "Meh. No big deal". Don't we all get to the end of a year and think, "Whew! Watta year!!!" We SHOULD think that. It's been a year of growth. Time has passed, and that translates to LIFE EXPERIENCE. Am I right or am I right? Who is SHOCKED at the end of the year? Seriously? Stuff happens. People are born. People die. People get betrayed. People get married. Peoples' marriages end. I'm sounding like an Old Testament passage. It doesn't mean we don't grieve or get angry. It doesn't mean we skip merrily along and not process what has happened to us. We're allowed to be angry or cry. We're also allowed to rejoice friendships that are made stronger...we're allowed to rejoice US when we are made stronger. We allowed to recognize that reality is exactly THAT...reality. We breathe through the horrible stuff. We can't change jerks. We can only breathe through their jerkiness and commit to never being a jerk, ourselves. (This is difficult for me...often, even.) We can't bring back a dearly departed. I sat in a funeral yesterday. A friend from high school lost her sweet mother on Christmas day. This same friend lost her brother in October. Rough year. She's breathing. She's putting one foot in front of the other. And she's recognized the love in her life.

I had another friend whose mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I'll never forget her reaction to the news. Many people would say, "Why me? Why? Why?". Her response? "Why not me? The statistics are what they are. Someone's going to get it, why shouldn't I be the one?" The cancer was in her right breast. She went to bed in the hospital that night knowing that in the morning, the surgeon was going to remove her right breast. She composed a poem about it...something else I'll never forget. It was this:

My right is my right. It has always been my right.
My left is my left, and tomorrow? It will be left.

Tomorrow? 2010 will be left.

God love you all. Tomorrow we move on.

PICTURES FROM THE MTC

Elijah at the Missionary Training Center with his companions and instructors. Below is the Provo Temple. He's happy...and adorable...well, okay...the last picture is a little weird. :)

STOP RUINING YOUR SISTER'S WHOLE LIFE.

Today I was on the phone with my daughter. She was out with her kids. This is what I overhead while we were talking on the phone.

Daughter to 3 year old son: "Stop 'ruining' your sister's 'whole life'. It makes her sad."

NOTE: His sister is 6 years old.

Such is the life of a busy mother.

AND THE BOY IS OUTTA HERE......

The boy wrote us from the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah. He's preparing to serve a two-year compassionate service mission for our church. He'll be leaving for the midwest in early January. We won't see him, which is good. He'll focus on serving others. He's growing up fast and learning how to be a man. This is an excellent "right-of-passage" that is sorely lacking in today's society. He will not be allowed to self-indulge in his own wants. He won't feel entitled to anything. He'll have to devote his time and talents to the building up of others. Good for him. Bravo, in fact.

And bravo to those who enabled to get to that point. His father worked tirelessly to help him earn his Eagle Scout award in Boy Scouts and to get him ready-the whole time while working six days a week, several hours a day (sometimes up to 14 or more hours a day) to prepare financially. The church doesn't pay for these missions; the missionary and/or the missionary's family is first and foremost responsible. Also, the missionary has to have all of their dental work completed (wisdom teeth out, fillings/root canals done, etc.), all immunities and flu shots performed, etc. Clothing, luggage, all of that has to be done in advance....FOR TWO YEARS!

It's no easy task. I sent two children on a mission previously in my last marriage and it's a huge deal. Their late father and I were totally unprepared for what was involved. Even my daughter got involved, purchasing a camera and cold-weather gear for her step-brother. She was fabulous.
A family in the ward (congregation) gave my husband and the boy a beautiful hotel room to stay in by the missionary training center...there was so much love to his send off....

I guess we'll see him in the early winter of 2012, just in time for the destruction of the earth, according to the Mayan calendar. OOOHhhhh.....do you think the Mayan's knew about this kid?.....mmmmmmm.......

Hugs to the boy....good luck and God's speed....

CHRISTMAS MAGIC AT CVS

Something wonderful happened about midnight on Christmas Eve. To back up, I just did NOT have the Christmas spirit this season. I was happy for the little kids in the family, because let's face it, their joy is just so fun to watch. But, other than that, I was just really rolling along and trying to remember the actual reason for the season.

So....the morning of the 24th, I prayed that I could somehow just feel the spirit of the season, which is love and compassion and charity. I went through the day not particularly "spiritual". That night, I made sure Mom had dinner and then went over to my youngest son's house to be with him, his sweet wife and the twins. That was fun and all kinds of cute. My oldest son came over so I got some time with him as well. While I was at their house however, Eli and his wife needed batteries and asked me to go through their stockings hanging over the fireplace to see if Abby's mom had put any batteries in their (just by chance). Abby's mom was so cute, she had stuffed stockings for Eli and Abby (the BIG kids) so they would have something to open in the morning. As I looked through their stockings, I was just charmed by what I found in there and I thought, "I want my Mom to experience this". It was a very strong impression so, on my way home that night, I found a CVS drugstore opened at midnight on Christmas Eve and into the parking lot I drove.

I walked through their front doors expecting an empty wasteland and imagine my surprise when the front of the store was PACKED with people. I walked into the front doors, stopped dead in my tracks, I pointed at them and just laughed and then THEY returned the laughter towards me! It was hysterical. It's like we shared some kind of common shame or something. Anyway, it was a pretty festive group that was in there. There was lots of laughter and kindness and camaraderie. We helped each other in the aisle, we moved out of each other's way with smiles on our faces, it was so nice in there!

Anyway, I found a great big stocking for Mom and packed it full of cookies and treats that she loves to eat. I also found some other cool gifts that she would like. There was a tray of rice krispie treats (which she has been asking for). I put the turkey in the night before so she could wake up to that wonderful roasty smell. I got some presents that I had to wrap and I placed everything on the table so she would see it when she got up.

SHE LOVED IT!!!! She had the best time opening her gifts and pulling her things out of the stocking. It was absolutely charming. After brunch at my nieces house (which was stupendous), we came home to a cooked turkey and side dishes that she and I wanted to eat....broccoli casserole, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, green bean casserole, cheeses, it was heaven and heavenly.

It's been 2 days later and she's still talking about it.

Next post, I'll tell you the other-side-of-the-coin on what happened on Christmas day.Yikes!!!

xoxo

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2010...

Merry Christmas to my family and friends. I wish for you the joy that this season intended. I pray that we all have peace in our hearts, which then radiates to the world.

My God bless each of us with increased love for those around us, increased tolerance, increased desire for knowledge, and the ability to know how to use it....

And oh yea, I pray that we always know how to laugh...

APPLE VERSUS NUGGET: APPLE WINS

Last night, my 90 y.o. mother was sitting across from me at the kitchen table. There was a bowl of apples in the middle of the table. The apples are as large as Buicks. I was on the phone with my youngest son, Eli. I was laying my head down on the table as I was speaking to Eli when I felt a BAM! against the top of my head.

Now...I don't know quite how to explain this but since childhood, if I get beaned on the nugget, I typically come up swinging...or cussing. I can't explain this, nor do I encourage it. It just happens.

So...I'm laying my head on the table, speaking to my very righteous son, and I get beaned. I sat up straight while grabbing my head, look at my Mother who eyes are lit up! I yell, "What the f*, Mom?" Now remember, I have my son on the phone and I'm typically not one who swears. So now, I've dropped the "f" bomb AT my mother and in the ear of my SON! Nice....

My mother was laughing and I don't think I've seen that much gleam in her eyes for quite some time. She said, "I bowled that apple like my bowling bowl and struck you right in the middle of that little, round, blond head of yours. I saw it there and it just begged me to hit it with an apple".

Seriously, Mom? My nugget begged you to bean it?

It's the only time after a beaning that my cuss words were followed by laughter.

Way to go Mom...way to go....

NOT JUST ANOTHER PAGEANT...

This morning on the Today show, there was a spot on a beauty pageant held in Atlantic City. It wasn't your typical beauty pageant. It's for women over 60. Ladies of elegance. The story was on the Senior Miss America Beauty Pageant. You had to be at least 60 years of age to enter. Some of the ladies were in their 80s. They were all beautiful and wise and had lots to offer anyone who would listen. Some of them were on stage for the first time in their lives. Each state was represented. And no...there was no swimsuit competition. There was, however, a talent competition, singing, dancing, and other things that go with that type of thing. There wasn't a scholarship given or a huge cash prize, but the winner will spend the next year traveling and representing the competition and all women by confidently modeling what can be expected by women of any age.

I loved it.

Men and women don't retire from life. We don't retire from wisdom. We don't retire from interacting with one another. Well.....we do....but at that point, someone typically picks out your headstone...

The message is that we're never too old to take on a new perspective. We're never too old to "know everything we need to know". We're never too old to change gears and take a different path.

I want to be those ladies when I grow up.

I'm shining up the tiara....

ASIAN BUFFET AND FAMILET...

Today, 15 family members met at a local Asian buffet to celebrate birthdays that occur during the holidays. There are a LOT of holiday birthdays in this Jewish/Mormon/Irish family. Eight, to be exact...eight birthdays between December 12th and January 4th. Granted, twins celebrate on the 12th, but that doesn't matter. Also, my brother and I, who are less than a year apart, celebrate the brief time of the year that we are the same age, which was way more fun when we were kids...

I felt kind of bad for the restaurant. We were rather obnoxious. Four generations of us were there, including in-laws and out-laws. There was laughter, guilt, tears, food, photos, video, more laughter, seconds, thirds, nausea-the whole shebang.

Trouble was, it was Asian, so about an hour after it was over, I missed everybody again...

ZING!

:)

I GIVE UP ON NABLOPOMO SATCHMO GIZMO

Okay, okay. I failed. I couldn't keep up with the national blogging month zeitgeist thingy.

bleh.

Apparently I couldn't commit. This isn't surprising. I can't commit to choosing out paint colors for walls, so...

I'm stunned I've committed to owning my dogs...and that they're still alive.

I'm preparing for my drive across the country. I thought I was leaving on Monday, but I've hit a hitch in my giddy up. It may be postponed now. Did I mention I'm not overly good at rolling with the punches, but I guess God thinks I need to learn that lesson so....*me rolling*

Speaking of rolling with the punches, I read today about a woman who lost her job. She decided, then and there, to simply do what she loved...and she loved to dance. Now, this wasn't a trained, athletic dancer. She wasn't a trained lithe dancer. She was an overweight, middle-aged woman who lived in the inner city. But she did her passion. Every day, she went to a particular corner in St. Louis, put on her ear phones, and danced her heart out, gleefully. At first, people were wary of her, but soon, they came to expect her. They recognized the joy on her face and how it radiated in her countenance. It was contagious. Not long thereafter, one of the local businesses hired her to dress up in a statue of liberty costume to dance and now....SHE'S GETTING PAID TO DO WHAT SHE LOVES AND WHAT SHE WAS PREVIOUSLY DOING FOR FREE.

Man...I love stories like that.

We have to find our passion....

Much love to all who read this.

Heck, much love to all who don't.

xoxo

NABLOPOMO: 12/06/10

My world is small...welcome to the minutiae....

Today my new quarter started. I'm studying behavioral nutrition. This should be interesting...and by "interesting" I mean a little painful. But no...really...it should be interesting....I signed up for Dr. Andrew Weil's website, which is very very interesting. Stay tuned...

Tonight, at 8:00, there is, yet ANOTHER, country music award show. What the heck? I'm sick of ALL of the award shows. Over it. Cranky McCrank Crank has spoken. So let it be complained of, so let it be done.

"Skating With the Stars"....there is so much wrong with this....soon, we'll have "Snowboarding With the Stars"; "Shark Hunting With the Stars"; or *shudder* "Child-Rearing With the Stars". Spare us....

Dandy Don Meredith died today. He was a nice man. I met him in Rancho Mirage. I thought he was from Ohio. He was so familiar to me from all of the years of being the "color man" for Monday Night Football, that I thought I knew him! I said, "Hey! We know each other!" He just smiled really wide and said, "Why I HOPE so!" and we carried on and boy, did I feel stupid when I figured out who he was. He was very gracious and we talked for awhile. A wonderful, classy man....a gracious Southern gentleman. Heaven is a little smoother....


Elizabeth Edwards is gravely ill. What a sad story. I'm sorry for her children. I'm sorry for her ending, though she faced it with grace and class. I wish the ending could have been different for her, with more support and love; however, she appeared to live her life with authenticity. I wish her and her family great peace and comfort at this time.

AAARRRGGGHHHHH....thanks...I needed that.

:)

SAVE THE CEREBRAL MATTER FOR THE BIG STUFF...*COUGH*

Okay...fine. It's December, it's Christmas, New Years, and Hanuka and you would think I'd have lots to write about, right? Nope. I'm lame. LAME! My life is pretty small right now, so there's not much to write about...

Except for this one nugget of a conversation I had with mother this afternoon. I was heading out to pick up some lunch before grocery shopping. She was giving me her order from Wendy's.

"I want it right off the grill, steamy hot. Tell them it's for your elderly mother so they do it right! [For real? Does that have 'pull' with teenagers in fast food restaurants these days? Do they hear "elderly" and snap to?...straighten their shoulders?...show up on time?...do their homework?...feed the dog?...make their beds?...and tell their moms they love them?....] I want a double, no ketchup, with cheese and mayo. And fries, I want fries."

While she's telling me this, I say, "Hang on, I'm getting a pen to write this down so I get it right".

In pure, sincere amazement, my 90 yr old mother looks at me and says in genuine surprise, "Debbie Ruth, are you telling me with your education, you can't remember that simple order?"

To which I replied, in all seriousness, staring her straight in her eyes, nose to nose, "I'm telling you I don't waste brain cells on stupid stuff. I save my cerebral matter for research statistics". And I waltzed out the door.

I couldn't remember that order past the front door. And now I have to repent. I can think quick on my feet, but I didn't say I could think virtuously.

I'm bad...but quick...but bad....

NABLOPOMO: 12/03/10 KATZBOX

There is a general authority of our Church that is known for his profound wisdom and insight. His name is Neal A. Maxwell. Here is one of the quotes that I received today via my twitter account:

"Extending our mercy to someone need not wait upon our full understanding of their challenges"

I think it may accurately reflect the zeitgeist of this month. It's a month of compassion and thinking of others...we're supposed to do that all of the time, but this month we're more mindful and focused on it....well, I can't speak for everyone, just for me...

So, I'm going to meditate on that little nugget for awhile.

And this: "nugget" is a funny word and I love it when it's used to describe babies' heads.

"What a cute nugget on that kid!"

NABLOPOMO: 12/02/10 KATZBOX

NASA discovered a new life form on this planet that does NOT share its building blocks with ANYTHING on this planet. I'll wait while you reread that sentence. *files nails*

It's a bacteria. Here's a quote from the article, "All life on Earth is made of six components: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus and sulfur. Every being, from the smallest amoeba to the largest whale, share the same life stream. Our DNA blocks are all the same." The article can be found at: http://gizmodo.com/5704158/nasa-finds-new-life?skyline=true&s=i

Only this little bacteria has replaced phosphorus with arsenic. Yea.... wicked bugger....

What this implies is that life can exist on another planet that DOESN'T HAVE TO BE LIKE EARTH. Oh really? We're allowing for the possibility that we haven't figured everything out and there may be laws that are higher or different than ours? How big of us! How enlightened....

I don't want to take away from the hugeness of this discovery, I just get tickled that we continue to reinvent the wheel on possibilities.

This doesn't really have much to do with Christmas, except for the fact that Ellen Degeneres' Twelve Days of Christmas is coming on so I have to tune off and covet her audience.

Joy to the world....

Seriously....

except for that little piece of arsenic-driven bacteria....

The little bacteria that could....

Could what?...still waiting to find out....

:)

DECEMBER 1, 2010-NABLPOMO

Well. December 1st, 2010. The Mayans are giving us 2 more years and about 3 weeks. Thanks Mayans. On December 22, 2012, I'm going to party like it's 1999.

This month is National Blog Posting Month (NaBlPoMo). I don't know who "claimed" it thus, but I like it. Everyday this month, bloggers are encouraged to post something relative to the zeitgeist of the times, and post photos as well. Zeitgeist is defined as "the spirit of the times" or "the spirit of the age".

So...let's see....December 1st: I think it's edgy. The weather is pretty. It's snowy...a pretty, misty, kind of enchanting precipitation. The Christmas decorations are up. I don't really have the spirit yet, but I'm not really expecting it, so the pressure's off. If I don't expect to get it, then I won't be disappointed and I can concentrate on the true meaning of Christmas-the birth of Christ, and not the commercialization. I like the family part, the gathering, the sharing, the laughter, all the stuff you can't really purchase. That's the stuff I celebrate. So...that's building in a fun, expectant manner and I'll cling to that in the face of family members who are ill or otherwise compromised in their "pursuits of happiness"... We grab for the intangibles and the constants: love, God, and the fact that rent is always due on the first and the sun rises in the East...and ladies, no matter how consistent we are, our legs always have the tiniest bit of stubble somewhere....count on those constants to get you thru the season....the things that never change...

And now today? We are hunkered down with warm blankets, good food, good books, good music, and each other, my mom and I. Kinda sorta waiting for the holidays to come at us....or whatever is coming....we're here....waiting...

DECEMBER, CAMPHOR, AND ONLY ONE MOMMA

THREE THINGS I LEARNED TODAY:

During the month of December, central Ohio only gets 31% of the available sunlight. Also, current prices for homes are going down, almost sharply. I think they want people to move here who otherwise wouldn't because of the lack of sunlight. I don't think it will work. This place is a vampire's dream.

Today I bought "spirit of camphor". It's an "old school" remedy for treating joint pain. I bought it for Mom's knees. I brought it home and showed her the bottle. She said, "I think Mom and Grandma used to use that"...and then something wonderful happened. I opened the bottle and the fragrance wafted up and reached my mother's 90 year old nose. Her face lit up, she got a light in her eyes, and she smiled. I can only imagine the images that raced through her mind. She said, "Oh yea, I remember this...put that stuff on my knees and let's take care of this arthritis the old-fashioned way". And we've chuckled a lot more this afternoon....

I canceled my residency in San Diego which was scheduled to begin at the end of December. I'll pick it up another time in another city. There's always another residency...there's only one momma. So...looks like I'll be spending December here...let's go buy flashlights, candles and more camphor!

DEBORAH KATZ, Real Housewife of YOUR City!

What would the television show be like if I was on "The Real Housewives of Your City"? I would venture to say that it would be one of the most boring OR funniest shows on the air. For sure, it would NOT be drama. No drama. NO DRAMA ZONE. My mother and I are watching (excuse me, we're "addicted") to The Real Housewives of Atlanta". At first, I was "ewwww, let me just slap someone, puhleese"....but then, I got attached-but only to a couple of them. Most of them are irritating as all get out; whiney, clueless, loud, and that's my mother and I when we're watching them...ZING!

No, I enjoy watching Kim and Kandi. They're a blast. They're authentic in their own way and I enjoy watching them. But if I was being followed 24/7 by lights and cameras, would I wear false eyelashes and 6 inch heels every day? Would I wear tight skirts and render loud opinions on virtually everyone around me? Mmmmm....yikes...

Let me tell you what you could COUNT on. The first time I run into someone with 16 items in that express lane that says "15 items or less"?...yea...there would be some serious drama there...

Stay tuned....

TIME TRAVELERS...PLEASE APPLY

"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Ohmygoshohmygosh." That was my reaction to a friend's response to an honest-to-goodness ad on Craigslist for some paranormal, time-traveling researchers. I'm deadly serious. Here's the ad ---> Craigslist ad for Paranormal Time Traveller recruitment!!!

If you go there, you will find the ad and in addition to THAT, the professionals in charge of the whole sh'bang have included a questionnaire. Again, I'm deadly serious. I'm not dissing anyone. I'm as woo woo as they come. Believe me. I'll never run for public office! The reason I have had so much fun with this is because my friend, who shall remain nameless, is one of the funniest people on the planet. He is bright and Oscar-Wilde-witty and so...I read his responses to the questions. I laughed so hard, I almost peed. Okay. I peed a little. Sue me. In fact, I'm still smiling. So....I'm going to cut and paste his responses...edited. If you want the full questionnaire, you'll have to go to the link. These answers are NOT for the weak-kneed or non-tolerant. I will edit the language, but you'll kinda sorta know what he's saying. I just hope you get a smile or two. I know I did. So...here it is:

If you would like to be considered for participating Paranormal Experiment #1 as a volunteer and be on film for free, please answer questions that are applicable to you below and submit to info@paranormalresearch.com, Subject: Paranormal Experiment.

Bring your instruments, crystals, tools, sounds, cards, charms, methodology for time travel so people can learn and it be documented on film.

Filming Times are from 11am to 3:30pm, November 14, 2010, Heritage Marina Hotel, 2550 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94109
########
Questions:

1.) What is the strangest Paranormal / Supernatural experience you have encountered?
I once encountered a random fart cloud in the midst of a Waffle House which was positively ghoulish. Total demon spawn! AIIIEEE! It burnses mine eyes, forsooth! (Seriously though, I could taste it.)


2.) In all of your years, have you run across a variety of Time travelers. What are they like?

In all of my years I have run across a variety of Time Travelers and they were all incapable of using proper punctuation to formulate a question. I suspect that time travel affects the language portion of the brain to such an extent that one's interrogative statements become declarative. Also, they all had a slight speech impediment, a penchant for S&M and a strange obsession with glow sticks.

4.) What do you think about about M-theory, dark energy and dimensions?

Tasty in milk.

5.) Can mathmatics and science explain everything?

Just the real things.


7.) What is Magick?

An intentional mispelling of the word Magic used to convey the douchiness of the speller.


9.) What is do you think the connection is between Science, Magick and Religion? Or are there such connection(s)?

I think that Science was dating Magick once and it got pretty serious, although they didn't go all the way because Science was all "That's not rational." And they dated for a while, but then Religion was all, "Nuh-uh, bitch, Magick is mine" and then it was all "I turn blood to wine, motherf**ker, so suck on that, but not literally, because that's vampirism." And then Science was all, "You fool, ain't no such thing as a vampire." And Magick was all, "I use my plus four sword of Zanthdarmakalafussinklambdo to slay you both because my dad was a vampire and you don't even know."

10.) Why do you think people have premonitions?

Because a postmonition is just a remembery.


12.) When did you realize you had a special gift and how did you, and others react to it?

I realized I had a special gift at the age of 17, and my boyfriend at the time reacted accordingly. Because I am awesome...and cruel.


14.) Do you have a day job? If so, what is it?

I am a geologist, which is like time traveling in a big way.

15.) Other than the paranormal what are your interests?

I like this shirt I'm wearing; it makes my eyes look shazaam, and that is interesting to me. Maybe if I went back in time I would have sex with me. I look really, really good in this shirt. I mean really, really good. Maybe I'll leave a note for future me to come back here and do present me. That would be hot enough to video tape.

Dear future me,
Remember to come back to today and get it on with me. Also, buy a video camera, because this is going to be hot!
Love,
JPL Now-style


17.) What was the last thing that made you laugh hysterically?

That is a hyperbole. You should look up the definition of hysteria.


19.) Ever appear in a documentary of television/film before? If so, what was it?

I was geologist #2 in the film "Full Metal Whack-it." Okay, I wasn't.


22.) What do you love?

coffee, rain, yo daddy.


24.) Any odd traits or not so secret quirks?

Yes. Will you be asking me about my secret ones later, because if I reveal them I will have to kill you.


27.) Where do you see your life taking you in the next 5 years?

Approximately five years into the future, if my time travel remains constant.

28.) What is your favorite phrase or term?

Schadenfreude...the germans have a word for everything horrible!



31.) Are you married/dating/single? (elaborate based on response)

single. I don't know how to elaborate on that. I don't like people, so why would I date one?

32.) What is your living situation?

Alive...currently.

33.) What do you think of the President?

He has very nice dimples. I bet his stomach is really flat.

34.) Do you identify with a political party/social movement/cause or set of ideals? If so, what and why? And for how long?

Ideally I like an occasional cheeseburger. Cheeseburgers are awesome. Because they are cheese and burgers. I have pretty much believed this forever. (Once while time traveling I met the guy who invented the cheeseburger, he believed in Magick, so I smacked him soundly and then we made out for like an hour.)

MY JOINTS TALK AND THEY'RE NOT REALLY FRIENDLY. MY JOINTS WOULD NEVER GET HIRED FOR THEIR CUSTOMER SERVICE SKILLS...

I ate so much yesterday, that my joints are full. They're screaming at me. How can that be? It's almost creepy. If my hips and knees could speak they would say, "Hey lard-butt! We have to carry you. Take a step back from the dressing and the 3rd helping of dessert. Seriously? The first two servings weren't enough? You didn't get the ESSENCE of the chocolate silk pie the FIRST TWO TIMES? Trust us. It's good. It's chocolate. It's deadly. Back the heck up and turn around."

My joints aren't really friendly and they certainly lack in customer service. My joints work for Sprint.

Ouch.

TEXTING, DRIVING, AND FORGIVENESS-IT'S A MIRACLE

One year ago my youngest daughter survived a hideous car accident. She is a walking miracle. She was in a turn lane waiting to turn left and a young man in a car behind her was reaching for his phone, going 70 mph, and hit her from behind. She had to be removed from her car with the jaws of life. She fractured bones in her neck, her rib, and had dozens of staples in her pretty blond hair.

As it turns out, much to the surprise of all, she was pregnant at the time. She and her husband didn't know this. No one knew this! So she couldn't take pain medication. Because of her great faith, she has made a full recovery. Her baby is gorgeous. It's tough not to love a chubby, laughing red-headed newborn.

But perhaps the greatest miracle of all is the fact that this woman spends so much time being grateful for her blessings, she has no time for anger or resentment. The young man had no insurance and no money. He never even apologized. She doesn't care. She has no ill will. I think that's why she is so healthy today. Nothing in her body stores guile or bitterness.

All gratitude. All love. All forgiveness. No "woe is me"...ever.

THE BIGGEST LOSER...WOW...

I've never watched The Bigger Loser before this season. I am weeping.

Hurray for human endeavor and heart.

Hurray for "us".

Let's give Thanks.

EVERY KISS BEGINS WITH VICK'S

I'll briefly explain what happened last night, and then we will never speak of it again.

My 90-yr-old mother went to bed. She hasn't been feeling well. I'm guessing it's because she's 90 FREAKING YEARS OLD....but I digress....

I was working on a paper in the dining room, just outside her room. Her bedroom was dark and therefore I assumed she was sleeping. She went to bed with Vick's Vaporub on her chest. Remember that stuff? Mmmmmm......

Anyway, she called out, "Debbie? Could you come in here?"

I went into the dark room and asked her what I could do for her. She said, in her little meek, sleepy voice, "Could you kiss me right here *pointing to her temple*"?

I thought, "Sure, she must think she has a temperature". I leaned down to plant my mouth full onto her sweet little temple and virtually pasted my lips into a puddle of Vick's. I pulled back, but it was too late, I was smeared with the stuff.

My mother let out the most wicked laugh I've heard come out of her in a long long time. It was PLANNED!!!! She did it purposefully and with malicious forethought. BRAVO!!!

I spit and fumed and snitted. I said, "What the heck!!!!" My eyes commenced burning and once you try to wipe that stuff off, it just goes postal on your face, so for the rest of the evening and even when I washed my face this morning, it was the "gift that kept on giving"....

Nice. Well done, Mom.

Man...I will miss her when she's gone....

THERE ARE NO BED PANS IN HEAVEN

I'm half way done with my paper. I'm learning all kinds of things that I didn't sign up to care to know, but they're interesting nonetheless. The above table is difficult to see. The top is from 1950, the middle from 1990 and the bottom projected to 2030. It represents population. The dark blue represents "developed countries". The light blue represents "developING countries". On the right represents females and on the left represents males. This is what is proverbially called, "the writing on the wall". That scurrying sound you hear are some running back to place their heads back in the sand...or other places where there is no sunshine.

My focus of interest via psychoneuroimmunology, is the "care of caregivers", particularly caregivers of dementia patients. They have a unique set of circumstances that predispose them to certain stress-related illnesses, secondary to their exposure to the chronic stress that comes with being a caregiver for SUCH A LONG TIME. The average time a caregiver takes care of a dementia patient is 4.6 yrs (caregiver.org). It is not unusual for instance, for a wife to be the full time caregiver of her elderly husband who has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease (AD). She ends up having to dress him, feed him, bathe him, etc. She spends all of their money on him. Eventually, she develops a stress-related, immunocompromised disease, such as breast cancer and dies before him. I'm talking about a "developed country" kind of scenario.

And now, due to prolonged lifespans and decreased fertility, we have fewer people behind us to care for the older generation. The infrastructure is not prepared to house or feed or care for those who will be diagnosed with AD or other dementias, which, by the way, increase several fold every 5 years after the age of 65. By the year 2050, there will be over 60 million caregivers needed to help with the demand.

Sooo....I don't have any answers. I've looked at the zero-population theories. We really really need our "emergency back up generation". Not just to hold the bed pan, but to, you know, keep doing our procreating thing. I imagine that we'll get creative and come up with group homes for elders and other alternatives. We'll figure it out. It'll go back to family. They'll be a pandemic or something. Wow....I just jumped out of a Hallmark card, eh? I'm going to do you a favor and go right back to my paper. And then I promise to be more pleasant tomorrow. But for the record...

I don't think Heaven has borders. I'm guessing there's one language. And I KNOW there are no bed pans.

THE GOOD NEWS IS, IT'S PNEUMONIA!

Pneumonia. Not pulmonary embolism. But, once again, it took a last minute, call-from-the-governor, last peek at the CT scan brought the drama down to "just" pneumonia, not the pulmonary embolism that I was all hooked up for and counseled to be treated for. Apparently, a diagnosis of pulmonary embolism is swift and severe. I realize this. My son has had four. The difference between my son and I would be that I would LISTEN to what the doctors tell me and adjust my life accordingly. I can say this because that particular son never reads my blog. neener neener.

So, I have a pneumonia that doesn't make me cough. It's strange and irritating. I am basically lugging around a lung that is heavy, wet, nonproductive, andpainful. I have compared it to carrying a backpack on the INSIDE. Ewwwww.

I'm also fatigued as all get-out. Cranky. Impatient. Slammed at school because I'm also expected to write a 25 page paper.

Also, my mother, with whom I'm staying, has pneumonia. She's lucky though, because she gets to cough...incessantly....productively....constantly.....

No fun.

Bright spots: The Royal Wedding! The kindness of people. Those weirded out housewives of Atlanta. What the heck is WRONG with them?

ROCKETTES, AND PROPHETS AND MONTY PYTHON, OH MY!

I just returned from attending church with my son and his two children. His wife, my daughter-in-law, on this particular Sunday, was directing the children in song for the entire program of Sacrament (after we all partook of the Sacrament). So, she had to sit up front and they asked if I wouldn't mind sitting with Eli and "the twinkies", a name their other grandma came up with and I love, Livvy and Charlie (almost 2), and helping out. I couldn't get there quick enough, are you kidding me?

I met my son, Eli, in the parking lot and we walked in together. I discovered this: Eli and I should never sit together at church. We really shouldn't. He's a clone of his late father, especially in the humor department, and we are atrociously irreverent. We can't make eye contact and we giggle way too much. We spent a lot of time bent over adjusting the kids' socks (that didn't need adjusted), or picking up the carpet (which didn't need picked up)---get the picture?

Things were being managed between the two of us pretty well until two things happened. The first was this particular song that the primary kids sing. It's a nice enough song with a good message but it's all done in minor notes, which are kinda creepy. It's called "Follow the Prophets". Well, when it's done in all minor notes and it sung rather slowly (like it was today) it sounds, well, just creepy. We heard the first couple of notes on the piano and Eli and I looked sideways at each other and then downward and then away from each other but we could help it. When the chorus came we both did a Monty Python kind of movement where we hit ourselves in the forehead with a hymn book and of course, we cracked ourselves up....because we're so freakin' witty....NOT.

And then, I was doing the "walking fingers" to entertain the kids, which it does. I would walk my fingers along the pew and then quickly JUMP to their necks or ears and they would scrunch up and squee and then want me to do it again. This works for about 10 minutes, but we had an arsenal of tools to keep them entertained so they wouldn't miss mommy so bad and would make it through the meeting without disrupting the people around them. Eli began to emulate my finger puppets until I got the bright idea of finger Rockettes and I began to do the "bounce-knee-bounce-kick" that the Radio City Music Hall Rockettes do and are so famous for. Eli wasn't prepared for this and he almost busted a gut. This required much time for him to compose himself. While this was irreverent, I considered it a big SCORE!!!!!

I then considered that the kids were way better behaved than Daddy and MooMoo. I may have a lot of 'splainin to do in my prayers tonight....

I hope God has a sense of humor...actually, I'm counting on it.....

PUT DOWN THAT REMOTE, I NEED RESOLUTION!!!!

I don't have a comfort level with letting my mother work the remote control. Of course, this is HER house, HER television, and therefore HER call. But it is a study in frustration. I lose a few more IQ points every time I sit there and watch....

For example, after the OSU/Penn state game, I didn't get up quick enough and sure enough, the magic began. She reached for the remote control and something in my brain told me to "quick stupid, get up and go clean the toilet, save yourself!!!" But did I listen...nope...just sat there all vulnerable and stupid like a woman with 50 dollar bills hanging out of her pockets while walking down a dark alley.

Here's what she does. She goes to one channel, listens just long enough to get you interested, then switches to another channel....this one is a news channel...she listens just long enough to get you interested on how the cops actually caught the kidnapper and THEN?...yes....she turns off THAT channel and goes to another one...this one is a comedy show....they're setting you up for a joke and they get you to a punchline and....NO....she turns off right before they deliver it....and now we're at the beginning of a cop show...someone is walking around a house....you know this because the camera is the perspective of the perp....the victim is on the inside....tension mounts....a car pulls up just as the perp is making his breathy move and BAM, the channel is changed.

I have more gray hair now than when the television was turned on this afternoon. I need resolution. I NEED TO WATCH ONE ENTIRE SHOW FROM BEGINNING TO END!

My Mom is a remote-tease!

GOD WILL NOT LET ME BE COOL...

This afternoon, I accompanied my mother to the imaging center for a much needed x-ray of some hardware in her right upper leg. It's been several years since it was evaluated and needed to be looked at. Since she was in some pain, it was no easy task to get her there. She has a nice walker (she calls it her cadillac) but it's a little cumbersome to get her in the car, fold the cadillac up and put it in the car, and then redo the whole thing to get her out of the car, and then actually GET her to the correct office in the office building, yada yada yada.

So, after finally getting her to the correct office, down the correct hall,, this very young, new, immature, this-far-from-being-a-fetus imaging tech says to me, "I'll have to have my supervisor take a look at this order from her physician that was faxed over to see if we can perform this x-ray. It's not very clear."

I said, "What's the confusion? I'll be happy to clarify what the need is. She just needs her femoral hardware imaged." It's not that tough. I worked in radiology for years, and this is a no-brainer. (I didn't tell her that because I wanted to preserve her ego, but I KNEW there was no problem with the faxed order.)

So...she made my elderly mother, in obvious distress, wait while she took her un-experienced, immature, insecure butt to her supervisor who, of course, okay'd it. She wheeled mother to the exam room, got the films, and when she returned her, she said to Mom, "Sorry about the wait" to which I replied, "did you hear that Mom? She just called you fat". Then...as I smugly walked out, God smirked...and had me walk through a cobweb...and nothing says "uncool" like walking through a cobweb...

OLD AGE...BRING IT!

This afternoon, I took my 90 yr old mother, Wendy, and her brother, 86 yr-old brother Billy Jay, to lunch. I've discussed being out with these two before. They both have a hearing deficit and neither one of them will wear a hearing aide. This makes dining out with them challenging, to say the least. But I digress....

Obviously, when you've been siblings for that many decades, you kinda sorta know each other. We sat down in the restaurant, ordered our drinks, and after they arrived, my sweet uncle calmly unwrapped the paper from around the top of his straw, placed it in his mouth, and blew the paper off of the straw and directly into his sister's forehead. Yea. Not to be outdone, his 90 yr-old sister unwrapped her straw in a "Game-on!!!" type of fashion and blew HER straw paper at HIM, which, incidentally, flew past my face and into the aisle...landing about a boat ride and two plane trips away from its intended target.

The remainder of the lunch involved bickering about medical advice, advice about spouses, advice about cooking, etc. On the way home, as is typical, we drove through an old historic cemetery in the south side of Columbus, Ohio.

I can hear your envy....

DEATH BY PINKIES-I GET IT GOD

So....this morning I was in a hurry. People were coming over, I had to get dressed, wash up...you know. I scrubbed my teeth, brushed my hair, and ran the water to get it warm so I could wash my face. I'm a pretty basic girl when I'm in a hurry. Soap and water do the trick for me, followed by a slap of moisturizer. So...the water got warm, I worked up a lather with the soap, and commenced to slather my face with the bubbles. I did the basic "up and down" movement with my open palms going over my face...picked up speed...and then it happened.

As my hands were traveling up my face, from my chin to my forehead, apparently the super slippery, careless nature of my speedy washing allowed for each of my pinky fingers to slide, rapidly and rather violently, up each nostril until they couldn't really go any further and came to a violent stop somewhere at my septum. Tears sprang to my immediate blood-shot eyes. I rinsed off the remaining soap and blotted my face dry. My nose was screaming at me, though I was relatively certain it was pretty clean, what with the soapy suds and all. I could have killed myself by my own pinkies. It was ugly. What the heck?
This is payback from the church pew thing. I know it. I heard you God. Loud and clear.

CHEAP, FAST AND EASY...GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER

Tonight, I ate some bites of a cheese-filled crust pizza. The other night I had some chicken sandwich from...I don't know...maybe, Burger King. Over the last several weeks, I have noticed that I have partaken of several fast-food type meals. I love Arby's roast beast sandwiches, I love fish sandwiches, I love hamburgers, I love fries and chicken nuggets. I love my extra-large pop that is half diet/half regular pop with no ice.

I love food that is cheap, easy, and fast.

I am the Charlie Sheen of fast food.

WHO'S THE NUTBAR UNDER THE CHURCH PEW?

Today, I did something quite unacceptable in church. I was visiting a building in Ohio that I don't normally attend. I live in California. I was sitting in the very back row. There is a space between the very back row and the next row up. This very back row is used for...I don't know...people who come in late, anti-social types, people with little kids who may have to leave and don't want to disturb others...me...whatever.

To my right sat an old acquaintance (I used to live in Ohio). He sat there with his teenage son. They were very well-behaved and reverent. In front of me, in the row waaaayyyy ahead of me (remember...there is that space I mentioned) was a friend that my daughter grew up with and her 3 year old son. On the other side of the 3 year old boy sat another old friend, Laurie. So....what did I do?....

I cannot resist the urge to play with a little child. Call me childish and immature , okay, don't call me names please, but whatever I am, I am always "game on" with a toddler. So...the kid was playing peek-a-boo with me and I clicked on! I was hiding behind the cape I was wearing, I would sneak out all quick and he would smile. BINGO! Then...I would sneak across the space and lean over the pew, and quickly peek over the top of it, BINGO!, he would giggle. Finally, I got so involved with this game, I actually dove UNDER THE PEW on my back, wiggled forward (my legs were now sticking out from under the into the said space between the very back pew and this particular pew I was now position UNDER, and appeared BINGO right next to his wee tee tiny Crock shoes! He was stunned....as was his mother. I just laughed...and then I realized where I was. I was laying on my back....under a church pew....with my legs sticking out into open territory...*gasp*

I now had the hideous realization that I had to maneuver my body out from under the pew, inching my way forward until I got back into the space so that I could CRAWL BACK to where I was sitting originally on the pew in the very back row. As I did this, as I crawled back into my original position on the pew in the very back row, I realized that my old acquaintance and his teen aged son were seated there-no doubt watching everything with open-mouthed shock.

In an effort to somehow regain some small fraction of dignity, I sat up straight and wrapped my long shawl/cloak around me....realizing how very odd I must have appeared in my zealous efforts to over compensate for my foibles. I went from crawling under and out from a pew to sitting bolt upright with a tightly wrapped cape around me. What a nut job.

I left soon thereafter.

I may leave Ohio sooner than I thought.

Lebron James "Rise" Commercial & Cleveland's Response

UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS BY PORTIA DE ROSSI: UNBEARABLE HONESTY....

This is the cover of Portia De Rossi's new book, "Unbearable Lightness: A Story of Loss and Gain". I will be purchasing this today or tomorrow. I respect anyone who has journeyed into the abyss of disordered eating and come out-not only intact, but whole and, perhaps even healthier. Bravo. No easy task.

I have been all over the spectrum on these things. I have been in a size 24 and I have been wee tee tiny-too tiny...medically too tiny-if there is such a thing. The daunting task about eating disorders, from my perspective, and I know whereof I speak, is that they appear to be a lifetime commitment. I have to treat my eating disorder, which, frankly, is restrictive anorexia, like sobriety. When I see pictures of incredibly thin people, it is like liquor to an alcoholic. I have to learn to be rational about it and keep it within a boundary.
(above-me coming back)

What I'm saying is this: This book of Ms. De Rossi's, is reported to be beautiful and honest and authentic, and it also might be "thinspiration" (images that promote anorexia) to a lot of anorexics who are struggling. A lot of females (and some males) are going to buy this book and fall off the wagon because they're not strong enough. It's not Ms. De Rossi's fault. Thinspiration is all around, but this book is already intoxicating and yes!...I haven't even read it yet, but the cover is killing me and I've listened to the talk shows and all I'm hearing is "I got down to 82 lbs". That's enough for some of us. That's enough...

I guess the purpose of this post/rant is, if anyone out there is struggling, I'm planning on reading her book but more importantly her final chapter over and over and over and over. Because she would not have written that book without some redemption and healing. I know there are probably pictures of her thinness. I know she will talk about the restrictiveness. I know that those are components that are attractive to anorexics and people that are NOT disordered eaters will never understand. But her healing is also in there. And we have to read that. We HAVE to read that...over and over and over and over and over.

And then we have to eat a big greasy hamburger...with someone who loves us...even if it's only ourselves.

:)

DEBBIE THE PSYCHIC...IT'S ABOUT OHIO...

Here...let me tell the future for you. I'll be "Debbie the psychic". Ready? Here it is.

"Ohio will be pivotal in the 2012 elections"

There!

Voila!

You're welcome!

It usually is, but now?...fageddaboutit. Republican governor, senator, the whole she'bang.

Iowa, please stay home. Ohio elects presidents.

So buckle your belts. You Buckeyes only THINK the elections are over...think again...the "fun" is only beginning....

DO YOU USE YOUR ANCESTORS TO GET JOBS?

There is a candidate running for congress here in Central Ohio that opens one of her ads with the declaration that her ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War and WWII. Somehow, these are admirable attributes for her character and we should consider them when we go into the voting booth...or, when citizens of this community go into their voting booths.

I looked at my mother, who will be going into her voting booth, and I said to her, "You know, we have an ancestor, General Eby, that fought in the Revolutionary War. And your grandfather, William Snyder, fought for the Union in the Civil War. You, personally, built bombers for the war effort during WWII. We have some real stinkers in the family. I don't personally think our ancestors' past history has any bearing whatsoever on our own personal ability to make decisions or get a job."

Mom was quiet for a second and said, "Who were we related to in the Revolutionary War"?

Exactly.

INDIANA JONES HAS NOTHING TO FEAR, UNLESS HE MEETS ME IN A DARK GARAGE

Okay, tonight I did a boneheaded move. Actually, I did four boneheaded moves.

I had to go to my niece's house, enter in the secret code that opens her garage door, go into her house, let her dog out, then go out. The problem? I didn't know how to reclose her garage door and I couldn't walk out the front door because I couldn't lock the door after me without the key. Big problem because they're out of town. Now, the last time I had to do that, my stepson, Elijah, was with me. The way we solved it then was as follows: I left the garage and watched in awe as Elijah hit the button to close the garage door from INSIDE THE GARAGE, then RUN and take his graceful, svelte body and roll out under the descending garage door before it hit the ground. He did it like a dance move. It was a beautiful thing. He didn't even pause to check for bruises afterwards, he simply hopped up and got into the car. He was simply stunning to watch. I have never forgotten it and I don't think I ever will. Truly, it was breath-taking. He's just one of those people who has beautiful control of his body. It's irritating. The only thing I can rejoice about is that I can steal his jeans and wear them. SCORE!

Anyway, I had a real problem tonight, but since Elijah did this magnificent Indiana Jones move, I thought, "Hey, I still have some moves in this old body, I think I could do the same thing and really, I have no other choice".

So, I put my purse outside of the garage door on the driveway (because I didn't want to be hampered), said goodbye to Max (the dog), took a couple of big breaths and shook out my limbs, hit the garage door button on the wall, and then ran as fast as I could toward the garage door, bending down at the last minute, and kind of rolling/squatting under the door. Huh-uh. Didn't work. That door bounced up and not only did it NOT close, the light flickered on and off several times in an effort to alert the neighbors, who for some reason were ALL OUT doing things in their garages and lawns at that time. So...back to the drawing board.

I went back into the garage to figure out what I did wrong. I checked for bruises and couldn't find any. I reshook out my legs and arms and cracked my neck. I hit the button, ran to the garage, DROPPED to my knees, and rolled out. No. The door bounced back up and yea...the lights flickered again.

Now, the guy across the street that was mowing his back lawn has stopped and is looking at the garage. The guy next to HIS house is holding his door open with his groceries still in his hands and staring in my direction. I pick up my purse and place it in my car like I meant to roll out of the garage. I then proceed back to the garage for another try. I know I can do this.

On the way back to the button, I have a slight limp. No problem. The adrenaline should take care of that. Deep breaths. Hit the button. Limp limp limp drop roll. LAME!!! Lights flicker. I didn't even make it all the way out. You could hear the door stifling a laugh.

I kind of crawled back to the button. I waited until everyone went back to their business and stopped watching. This took awhile. Plus, I needed the time to staunch the bleeding. I hit the button, leaped off the steps, attempted a "slide into home base" type of move...flicker flicker flicker.

I stomped/limped to my car and called my sister. Thankfully she answered even though she was at a huge party. I asked her if there was any way she could come over and lock the front door of her daughter's house because I had to leave. I told her what I had done, or attempted to do. When she stopped laughing, she asked me one question... "Can you do it one more time?" and then she gave me the code to close the door.....

The bruises can be covered by clothing...the shame?...that may take longer....

I NEED TIPS ON HOW TO TREAT INSOMNIA-AND NO, IT'S NOT "READ THIS BLOG"

It's 1:39 in the morning on a Sunday and I am physically exhausted but my eyes won't close. I don't know how or why this happens, but it's aggravating and I don't know what to do about it. I don't drink milk, or I would warm some because that is supposed to be very effective. I could take some xanax, but by the end of this post, I won't make much sense and then I won't remember it tomorrow and when I read my blog and find something that I don't remember posting, that's a rather disturbing event. It's happened before. I get nocturnal amnesia and it's troubling. Can you imagine? I have to really watch myself. I have to make sure car keys are put away in a manner that would require a lot of effort to get to them. I have to stay rational.

I have awoken to find food in my bed and no memory on how it got there. One morning I woke up and found a pan full of grits-untouched. I asked Peter how it got there and he said, "That would be your doing, my dear". I had no memory of actually making grits, but there was the evidence that I did. So...I proceed with caution when it comes to sleep aids. On the up side, how nice/out-of-touch is Peter? Never a word.... Of course, then he promptly forgets because he has raging ADHD and can't remember squat. So...win/win, eh?

So...here I sit, playing on my computer, listening to mother cough, and waiting for sleep to overtake me. I should just force myself to lay in bed and go to sleep....because forcing oneself to sleep is always effective. Sure.

What are some good ideas for insomnia? The people that read my blog are the smartest people I know (for real) and I know there are things I am missing...little help?....please?

What are some tips on getting to sleep?

Please and thank you.

*deep bow*

*deep wide awake bow*

*deep wide awake and while-I'm-down-here-I'll-play-with-my-shoe-laces bow*

:D

HALLOWEEN CAUTION, 2010.....

HERE'S THE DEAL WITH IRISH BUTTER-AND WELCOME TO THE KATZBOX!

If you Google "Irish butter", I think this blog is the 7th reference on the page. That's kind of big. I get more international hits for my, "What's Irish Butter Got That American Butter Ain't"? entry than any other entry. Second place is any entry with the name "Christian Bale" in it. For real. I get hits every single day from countries all over the globe looking for, I guess, clarification on what exactly constitutes Irish butter.

If you go to "http://www.answerbag.com/q_view/1962097", you will find information on what makes butter Irish. This information is supplied by Kerrygold Dairies. Here's what you'll find:

Butterfat

Like several European-style butters, Irish butter has a higher butterfat content than used in American butter. As a result, Irish butter melts more easily and at lower temperatures for cooking.

Texture

Irish butter has a smoother, creamier texture than American butter. It tends to be less waxy than its American counterpart.

Cooking

Because of its high butterfat content, Irish butter takes only 15 minutes to come to room temperature and easily burns when used for frying foods. Blended into pie crusts and pastries it produces a flakier product and is particularly well-suited for flavorful whole grain home-baked breads.

Taste

Irish butter has a richer, almost cheesy, character. It tends to be saltier and less bland than American butters.

Color

Irish butter is a startling golden sunshine yellow color, far more yellow than the whitish butters found in North American varieties.

PICS OF A YOUNG ELI....AND A LITTLE BIT LIKE CHRISTIAN SLATER.

Just thought I would post some pics we found of my son, Eli, from high school. These were taken by a photographer for an agency here in town. Actually, as I recall, the photographer was actually from Colorado and was passing thru town, but he did work for the modeling agency that wanted Eli. So...here they are. Cutie patootie.

I still think he looks a little like Christian Slater in these pictures and he can make a face that looks like him STILL...all these decades later...j/k....not decades....just a few minutes. :)

BRAIN/BODY/LOVE CONNECTION....

A friend posted a link to this article on facebook. It's the results of a study (a "meta-analysis", which means the data from many many research studies) which, when boiled down, indicated that, "falling in love can elicit not only the same euphoric feeling as using cocaine, but also affects intellectual areas of the brain. Researchers also found falling in love only takes about a fifth of a second" (Sciencedaily, 2010). It's what's called a top-down, and bottom-up process, which means the brain activates the heart and gut and the gut and heart can affect the brain. Falling in love feels a lot like doing cocaine...and it happens quickly. Good luck with those teenagers. But that's the fun stuff, the romantic stuff, the lets-go-to-Vegas-stuff.

But the research didn't stop there. It found deeper, more meaningful data. Different areas of the brain fall in different kinds of love (thank goodness). The article said, "For example, unconditional love, such as that between a mother and a child, is sparked by the common and different brain areas, including the middle of the brain. Passionate love is sparked by the reward part of the brain, and also associative cognitive brain areas that have higher-order cognitive functions, such as body image" (Sciencedaily, 2010).

So...it appears that love is in the lab.

We're screwed people.

Love is powerful. It makes us take bullets for people. It's makes us look at ugly babies and think,
"Good Heavens, this is one perfect human specimen", except in my family, they really are. :)

Love makes us wipe the drool off of our baby's teething chin, as well as our aging parents' shirt.

It compels us to leave divorce court and buy new make-up (after a time...or is that just me?)

Love takes us back to the cemetery and lay flowers at the stone while rubbing our fingers over the top of it to remember the texture...

Different parts of the brain? Perhaps. Same emotion? Feels like it. Screwed? Probably. Blessed? Most Definitely.


Reference:
Syracuse University (2010, October 25). Falling in love only takes about a fifth of a second, research reveals. ScienceDaily. Retrieved October 26, 2010, from http://www.sciencedaily.com­ /releases/2010/10/101022184957.htm

LIVVY, SINGING IN THE RAIN...OKAY, IT WAS THE SHOWER, BUT YOU GET THE PICTURE(S).

Except for the little face peeking out of the corner of the photo in the 3rd pic down, this is my grand daughter Livvy. The little face peeking out of the corner of the photo in the 3rd pic down is her twin bro, Charlie. Since Charlie is the HUGE face that is now decorating my blog, I thought Livvy should have equal time...at least somewhat.

I spent the night at their house on Saturday and spent Sunday morning with them. Oh, the joy! So, I thought I would share a few pics of the angel faces I got to spend time with. That's all.

They're fun and funny. Again, that's all.

:)

OLD COMER SCHOOL-SIX GENERATIONS OF GRATITUDE.

Above are the little desks that my mother sat in when she was a very little girl. We visited her one-room school house that was erected in 1850. Her parents and grandparents attended the same school house.

Above is the old coal stove that kept the school warm. I can't even imagine how cold those winters were and how chilly that room got. I would have lobbied for a seat next to that stove.

I love the above shot. It's the natural light filling the doorway at the back of the room. When I think of the generations of family that attended that little school, I'm reminded of where I came from and how far we've come. I think about my children and grand children attending warm, dry, excellent schools and now, we even have college graduates in the family. Eli's degree from THEE Ohio State University is a far cry from these humble beginnings.
And here's 90-year-old Mom with me and three of my four children, as well as FIVE of my grandchildren. That's four generations on the porch of that little one roomed school house. I wish we could see Grandma and my great grand parents standing behind us. Well, metaphorically they were there. We were standing on their shoulders, held up, supported, and pushed heavenward. Here's a delayed "Thank You". And a hug. Until we meet again.