Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
What's Next?
Almost as soon as I had the diploma in my hands, the thought hit me: what's next?
Others echoed that. "What are you going to do now?" asked my stepmother.
The truth?
I don't know. I have considered more school. I love college. I enjoy learning. I like the atmosphere. I like big ideas. I like being able to discuss books, theories, and facts with logical passion. I find the young people stimulating, the professors exhilarating.
Hollins offers other advanced degrees - MFAs in creative writing or children's literature, and something called a Certificate of Advanced Studies. That is 10 more classes - or over $13,000 - for a higher degree.
The children's literature MFA is offered during the summer only. The creative writing MFA is quite competitive, but to be honest I've never really wanted the creative writing MFA. That sounds odd, perhaps, coming from someone who considers herself to be a writer, but the truth is as a Hollins undergraduate I had many writing classes, and many of my recent Hollins MA classes were writing classes. I don't know that either of these MFAs would offer me anything more.
That leaves a degree from some other university. Locally, Virginia Tech and UVA are the closest with PhD programs. Radford University has a number of masters programs and one PhD program in psychology.
When I was a very young girl, I wanted to be many things. Those I can remember include geologist, archaeologist, investigator, newspaper reporter, psychologist, rock star, historian, lawyer, and writer of mysteries a la Nancy Drew. Somewhere along the way I realized that writing gave me the opportunity to explore any career I wanted. It also allowed me the freedom to take part in things without actually being a part of them. The anonymity of being a newspaper reporter was something I quickly embraced. As a reporter (at least the way I have always been a reporter) I sat in the back, I observed, and I wrote the facts of what I saw. I seldom embellished - I had no need to - because the words of others generally speak for themselves. I didn't see a need to explain what was so obviously already said.
I know that other reporters thrust themselves into the stories - they became a part of it, rather than an observer. That was not - is not - my style. But it slipped into the industry, and soon became the rule. My way became antiquated. I still think it is better.
In the last two decades the landscape has changed. Newspaper writing is not what it was - the industry has shot itself in the foot by giving away its news on the Internet and by allowing greed to run amok among the upper levels of management. Newspapers were never meant to be for-profit businesses and those who wanted more than a decent salary and breaking even should have looked elsewhere for their dollar bills.
For me, it has never been about the money. It's been about the story, the self-satisfaction, and what I could live with.
Which brings me back to today. I look at the current landscape and it looks like something from another galaxy. Self-publishing looms large and I suspect that is the way of the future, though it scares me. I am not big on the self-marketing aspect of that - the social networking, the push to sell.
I have read a few self-published ebooks on my Nook, and all of them have suffered from a lack of editing. They had typos, places where they repeated themselves, trains of thought that went on and then ended nowhere, or gave too much information. Every single one of them would have been a better story if the author had taken the time to review the work with a critical eye, or had someone else do that for them. Sometimes stories need to sit for years before they see the light of day. But now it is easy to put something up, place a price on it, and hope it sells. Few people have the patience to wait for perfection.
Putting up something for sale that is less than it could be scares me. I suppose in that regard I am anal, a perfectionist, a book snob. Just last night I was in Barnes and Noble. I picked up a book on writing that looked interesting. I turned to a random page. There was a misplaced period and a poorly written sentence. I put the book back and didn't buy it. It might have had the greatest advice ever but if the author, editor, and publisher couldn't figure out that a sentence needs a noun and verb and that periods do not belong in between clauses, then it wasn't advice I wanted to read.
So what's next? I don't know. I don't know where I am going. I can look back at where I have been. I have made mistakes, of course. I wouldn't be human if I hadn't. And I will make mistakes in the future. We all do.
For now, I am going to take a little time to enjoy life. It is almost June, and in a few weeks I will be adding another year to the chronicle of my life. I will be 49 years old. I am at an age when finding work, changing careers, and reinventing yourself is not as easy as it was at 20, or even 40. My hair is graying, my face is wrinkling, and parts are wearing out. I'm solidly middle-aged. And I am okay with that.
I'm even okay with not knowing what is next.
For surely, something will come.
Others echoed that. "What are you going to do now?" asked my stepmother.
The truth?
I don't know. I have considered more school. I love college. I enjoy learning. I like the atmosphere. I like big ideas. I like being able to discuss books, theories, and facts with logical passion. I find the young people stimulating, the professors exhilarating.
Hollins offers other advanced degrees - MFAs in creative writing or children's literature, and something called a Certificate of Advanced Studies. That is 10 more classes - or over $13,000 - for a higher degree.
The children's literature MFA is offered during the summer only. The creative writing MFA is quite competitive, but to be honest I've never really wanted the creative writing MFA. That sounds odd, perhaps, coming from someone who considers herself to be a writer, but the truth is as a Hollins undergraduate I had many writing classes, and many of my recent Hollins MA classes were writing classes. I don't know that either of these MFAs would offer me anything more.
That leaves a degree from some other university. Locally, Virginia Tech and UVA are the closest with PhD programs. Radford University has a number of masters programs and one PhD program in psychology.
When I was a very young girl, I wanted to be many things. Those I can remember include geologist, archaeologist, investigator, newspaper reporter, psychologist, rock star, historian, lawyer, and writer of mysteries a la Nancy Drew. Somewhere along the way I realized that writing gave me the opportunity to explore any career I wanted. It also allowed me the freedom to take part in things without actually being a part of them. The anonymity of being a newspaper reporter was something I quickly embraced. As a reporter (at least the way I have always been a reporter) I sat in the back, I observed, and I wrote the facts of what I saw. I seldom embellished - I had no need to - because the words of others generally speak for themselves. I didn't see a need to explain what was so obviously already said.
I know that other reporters thrust themselves into the stories - they became a part of it, rather than an observer. That was not - is not - my style. But it slipped into the industry, and soon became the rule. My way became antiquated. I still think it is better.
In the last two decades the landscape has changed. Newspaper writing is not what it was - the industry has shot itself in the foot by giving away its news on the Internet and by allowing greed to run amok among the upper levels of management. Newspapers were never meant to be for-profit businesses and those who wanted more than a decent salary and breaking even should have looked elsewhere for their dollar bills.
For me, it has never been about the money. It's been about the story, the self-satisfaction, and what I could live with.
Which brings me back to today. I look at the current landscape and it looks like something from another galaxy. Self-publishing looms large and I suspect that is the way of the future, though it scares me. I am not big on the self-marketing aspect of that - the social networking, the push to sell.
I have read a few self-published ebooks on my Nook, and all of them have suffered from a lack of editing. They had typos, places where they repeated themselves, trains of thought that went on and then ended nowhere, or gave too much information. Every single one of them would have been a better story if the author had taken the time to review the work with a critical eye, or had someone else do that for them. Sometimes stories need to sit for years before they see the light of day. But now it is easy to put something up, place a price on it, and hope it sells. Few people have the patience to wait for perfection.
Putting up something for sale that is less than it could be scares me. I suppose in that regard I am anal, a perfectionist, a book snob. Just last night I was in Barnes and Noble. I picked up a book on writing that looked interesting. I turned to a random page. There was a misplaced period and a poorly written sentence. I put the book back and didn't buy it. It might have had the greatest advice ever but if the author, editor, and publisher couldn't figure out that a sentence needs a noun and verb and that periods do not belong in between clauses, then it wasn't advice I wanted to read.
So what's next? I don't know. I don't know where I am going. I can look back at where I have been. I have made mistakes, of course. I wouldn't be human if I hadn't. And I will make mistakes in the future. We all do.
For now, I am going to take a little time to enjoy life. It is almost June, and in a few weeks I will be adding another year to the chronicle of my life. I will be 49 years old. I am at an age when finding work, changing careers, and reinventing yourself is not as easy as it was at 20, or even 40. My hair is graying, my face is wrinkling, and parts are wearing out. I'm solidly middle-aged. And I am okay with that.
I'm even okay with not knowing what is next.
For surely, something will come.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
You May Call Me Master
So today Hollins University held its 170th commencement, and conveyed upon me the Master of Arts in Liberal Studies Degree.
Today I took the ring, and I became the master! (A little paraphrasing of Lord of the Rings there.)
Finally! I have that diploma.
Thank you, dear readers, for putting up with my self-indulgence in blog posts over my weekend of commencement exercises. One doesn't graduate from college every day and I wanted to document the experience. I hope that everyone who has ever considered continuing their education will take the steps to move forward. Learning is a life-long endeavor, and I heartily encourage it.
Follow your dreams!
Today I took the ring, and I became the master! (A little paraphrasing of Lord of the Rings there.)
Finally! I have that diploma.
 |
| Me in my graduation get-up. |
 |
| Me, Katy and Joyce. we had a writing class together. You'd think I could have smiled! |
 |
| The line up! |
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| Friends and family watching as we march along. |
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| Hollins University President Nancy Gray gives the welcoming speech. |
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| The piece of paper that brings it all together. |
Thank you, dear readers, for putting up with my self-indulgence in blog posts over my weekend of commencement exercises. One doesn't graduate from college every day and I wanted to document the experience. I hope that everyone who has ever considered continuing their education will take the steps to move forward. Learning is a life-long endeavor, and I heartily encourage it.
Follow your dreams!
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Baccalaureate Service 2012
In the United States, colleges and universities hold a baccalaureate service to honor the graduating class. It is more for the seniors receiving their degrees than for the graduate students. However, any graduating student is welcome to attend, and several of us who will receive our advanced degrees tomorrow took in the service Saturday afternoon.
One of the student speakers talked about the "bubble" that Hollins creates. My husband told me after the service that he had heard me say the same thing many times. Hollins is a nurturing and safe place for women, a place where a girl can grow and find herself, returning to the world a brave and strong woman. I will miss that shelter.
 |
| Lining up in our black gowns. |
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| Marching to the chapel. |
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| Katy and Anita. We had a class together. |
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| An interpretative dance left me speechless and near tears. |
One of the student speakers talked about the "bubble" that Hollins creates. My husband told me after the service that he had heard me say the same thing many times. Hollins is a nurturing and safe place for women, a place where a girl can grow and find herself, returning to the world a brave and strong woman. I will miss that shelter.
Graduation Rehearsal
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| The beautiful Hollins campus. I love it. |
 |
| Lining up in alphabetical order. The Master of Arts in Liberal Studies students are all the way at the back. You would think a bunch of people with degrees would know their ABCs! |
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| Chairs in a line, waiting for parents and loved ones. They will all be full tomorrow morning for commencement. |
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| Staff watches the show as the graduates try to find their seats and make sure their names will be pronounced correctly. |
Friday, May 18, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Thursday Thirteen
Yesterday I wrote some advice to my younger self. I receive my master's degree on Sunday, so I am feeling rather nostalgic and excited all at the same time.
Today I think I will give my future self a nod.
1. Do not regret or forget your past, but do not live there, either. Yesterday is over and done, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. But you have today. Grasp it, shake it, and take whatever falls out.
2. Be kind to yourself in deed and in thought. No one will take better care of you than you.
3. Stand up for the things you believe in. You have a strong moral code and a tremendous sense of right and wrong. The things you value are good and true. Do not doubt this.
4. Acknowledge your talents, and use them.
5. Be positive. The glass is half full, the water tastes good, and the air on the other side is clean and breathable. There is nothing wrong with getting wet.
6. Be proud of your accomplishments but do not rest on those laurels. You have more to do.
7. Be patient with others. Everyone, including you, still has much to learn.
8. Take risks. You don't need to go hang gliding, but do broaden your world and open your arms to take in those who are hovering on your circumference. You might be surprised.
9. Dance, damn it! I don't care if your feet hurt and your back aches. Dance like there is no tomorrow. For all you know, there isn't.
10. Love. Love those who hate you, and those who have hurt you. Love the bad until it turns into good, and love the good until it becomes better.
11. Make your home your own. If you want to paint, paint. If you want to renovate, renovate. You live there. Make it yours. Who cares if no one else likes that color?
12. Learn something new every day. You love to learn - so learn more. Take more classes, investigate a new hobby.
13. Be creative. Invent, paint, write, figure out a new way to use a wheel. Turn old things into new, rediscover old uses and make them more than they were.
And some extras:
Be adventurous!
Be brave.
Practice kindness.
Be mindful.
Contemplate the spiritual.
What advice would you give to yourself, I wonder? What advice would you give me as I embark on this last half of my life?
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 242nd time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Today I think I will give my future self a nod.
Advice to My Future Self
1. Do not regret or forget your past, but do not live there, either. Yesterday is over and done, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. But you have today. Grasp it, shake it, and take whatever falls out.
2. Be kind to yourself in deed and in thought. No one will take better care of you than you.3. Stand up for the things you believe in. You have a strong moral code and a tremendous sense of right and wrong. The things you value are good and true. Do not doubt this.
4. Acknowledge your talents, and use them.
5. Be positive. The glass is half full, the water tastes good, and the air on the other side is clean and breathable. There is nothing wrong with getting wet.
6. Be proud of your accomplishments but do not rest on those laurels. You have more to do.
7. Be patient with others. Everyone, including you, still has much to learn. 8. Take risks. You don't need to go hang gliding, but do broaden your world and open your arms to take in those who are hovering on your circumference. You might be surprised.
9. Dance, damn it! I don't care if your feet hurt and your back aches. Dance like there is no tomorrow. For all you know, there isn't.10. Love. Love those who hate you, and those who have hurt you. Love the bad until it turns into good, and love the good until it becomes better.
11. Make your home your own. If you want to paint, paint. If you want to renovate, renovate. You live there. Make it yours. Who cares if no one else likes that color?12. Learn something new every day. You love to learn - so learn more. Take more classes, investigate a new hobby.
13. Be creative. Invent, paint, write, figure out a new way to use a wheel. Turn old things into new, rediscover old uses and make them more than they were.
And some extras:
Be brave.
Practice kindness.
Be mindful.
Contemplate the spiritual.
What advice would you give to yourself, I wonder? What advice would you give me as I embark on this last half of my life?Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 242nd time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Advice to My Younger Self
In a few days, I will have another advanced degree. I will be able to put "M.A." after my name. It seems like every 20 years I make an educational advancement.
My degree will come from Hollins University at the 170th commencement exercise this Sunday at 10 a.m. The ceremony is on the Front Quad, and as long as it doesn't rain, it will be outside and the guest list is unlimited.
The upcoming ceremonial rite has left me with mixed emotions. I am nostalgic and eager for the future all at the same time. Nineteen years ago I received my BA, something that took me eight years to obtain. Education is something I have always craved and I am pleased and proud that I have managed to make it happen.
I don't know if in another 20 years I will have another degree, but I strongly suspect I will continue taking classes of some kind.
Anyway, I thought I might take a look back today and write a note to that 29-year-old who received her first advanced diploma in 1993. Some of these are things I have done. Some are things I wish I had done. Those who know me well will probably know the difference.
Breathe.
Meditate.
Read everything you can get your hands on.
Embrace technology, but not so much that you lose yourself in it. Unplug frequently.
Take long walks in the woods.
Trust yourself and your husband. All others are suspect, but give them the benefit of the doubt.
Dance in the kitchen. Every day.
Do not stop playing the guitar.
Make lots of friends.
Love with your heart as well as your head. Love yourself, first.
My degree will come from Hollins University at the 170th commencement exercise this Sunday at 10 a.m. The ceremony is on the Front Quad, and as long as it doesn't rain, it will be outside and the guest list is unlimited.
The upcoming ceremonial rite has left me with mixed emotions. I am nostalgic and eager for the future all at the same time. Nineteen years ago I received my BA, something that took me eight years to obtain. Education is something I have always craved and I am pleased and proud that I have managed to make it happen.
I don't know if in another 20 years I will have another degree, but I strongly suspect I will continue taking classes of some kind.
Anyway, I thought I might take a look back today and write a note to that 29-year-old who received her first advanced diploma in 1993. Some of these are things I have done. Some are things I wish I had done. Those who know me well will probably know the difference.
Advice to My Younger Self
Don't be a stranger to your own feelings. Get out of your head and listen to your heart.
Breathe.
For God's sake, watch what you eat and take note of your weight.
Learn to love your body.
Learn to love your body.
Take up yoga as soon as you can.
Meditate.
Read everything you can get your hands on.
Embrace technology, but not so much that you lose yourself in it. Unplug frequently.
Take long walks in the woods.
Trust yourself and your husband. All others are suspect, but give them the benefit of the doubt.
Fruits and vegetables are your friends.
Go back to school sooner rather than later. While it is never too late to learn, it does get harder with age.
Dance in the kitchen. Every day.
Do not stop playing the guitar.
Make lots of friends.
Join organizations that do things for others. Be active in your community.
Love with your heart as well as your head. Love yourself, first.
Write about everything. Put it all down.
Don't be afraid of your own thoughts.
Learn something new every day.
Face your fears.
Wear different shoes every day.
Don't let the bastards get to you. You are better than they are; don't forget it!
Don't be afraid of your own thoughts.
Learn something new every day.
Face your fears.
Wear different shoes every day.
Don't let the bastards get to you. You are better than they are; don't forget it!
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
With a Flower
Words by Emily Dickinson
I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too --
And angels know the rest.
I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mother's Day
My mother's hair never fell out when she was taking cancer treatments for the pancreatic cancer that killed her.
I thought of this just this morning, thinking about it being Mother's Day. My husband had a movie on TV, something about dying young, with a young man with a bald head covered by a smart cap. I saw the image as I walked through the living room.
And I remembered how my grandmother told me she knew that the cancer treatments weren't helping my mother, because she did not go bald.
My mother passed away in 2000. She was 56 years old. Just seven years older than I am today. It hardly seems possible, both that she died so young and I am so old.
As the years have passed I think of her in different ways. As I am of a certain age, I see better and understand better the things she said and did. When I was young, I misinterpreted many things, but other things I did not. I feel wiser about my relationship as I grow older. More settled with it.
She will remain rather timeless, having died while she was still relatively beautiful, with few wrinkles and having not yet worn out her body, sick as it was. I think of her as being like a princess in a Snow White sort of way. Only of course there is no kiss to bring her back.
When I was a child, I brought my mother dandelions for flowers on Mother's Day because I loved the weed and thought she should, too. I remember her exasperation as she told me it was not a flower to love, and my sadness as she tossed the blossoms into the trash.
To this day, I still love dandelions.
I have long hated Mother's Day, mostly because I was not able to become a mother. It's an annual reminder of that great let-down in my life, a yearly stab in the heart. I daresay few people think about that, how the day might affect those of us who were unable to procreate.
But today is a pleasant Sunday, in spite of the pending rain and the whirling sound of cicadas. The cows are calling softly to their babies; they are good mothers.
The memory of my mother this morning is bittersweet. The cancer treatments did not work. She kept her hair. The suffering was for nothing.
I guess you have to try.
Happy Mother's Day.
 |
| Mom |
My mother's hair never fell out when she was taking cancer treatments for the pancreatic cancer that killed her.
I thought of this just this morning, thinking about it being Mother's Day. My husband had a movie on TV, something about dying young, with a young man with a bald head covered by a smart cap. I saw the image as I walked through the living room.
And I remembered how my grandmother told me she knew that the cancer treatments weren't helping my mother, because she did not go bald.
My mother passed away in 2000. She was 56 years old. Just seven years older than I am today. It hardly seems possible, both that she died so young and I am so old.
As the years have passed I think of her in different ways. As I am of a certain age, I see better and understand better the things she said and did. When I was young, I misinterpreted many things, but other things I did not. I feel wiser about my relationship as I grow older. More settled with it.
She will remain rather timeless, having died while she was still relatively beautiful, with few wrinkles and having not yet worn out her body, sick as it was. I think of her as being like a princess in a Snow White sort of way. Only of course there is no kiss to bring her back.
When I was a child, I brought my mother dandelions for flowers on Mother's Day because I loved the weed and thought she should, too. I remember her exasperation as she told me it was not a flower to love, and my sadness as she tossed the blossoms into the trash.
To this day, I still love dandelions.
I have long hated Mother's Day, mostly because I was not able to become a mother. It's an annual reminder of that great let-down in my life, a yearly stab in the heart. I daresay few people think about that, how the day might affect those of us who were unable to procreate.
But today is a pleasant Sunday, in spite of the pending rain and the whirling sound of cicadas. The cows are calling softly to their babies; they are good mothers.
The memory of my mother this morning is bittersweet. The cancer treatments did not work. She kept her hair. The suffering was for nothing.
I guess you have to try.
Happy Mother's Day.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Flower Power
Red Roses for a Blue Lady
Yellow Pansy
Purple Pansy
Columbine dancing in the wind
Marigolds reachign for the sky
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Thursday Thirteen
*A note to other Thursday Thirteen players*
I try to comment on everyone's blog, particularly if they visit me here. However, some of you have comment forms that psych me out completely. Some wordpress forms no longer work for me. Sometimes I can't figure out the captcha codes. Sometimes I leave a comment and it vanishes into thin air.
Please, please check your comment forms and make it easier! - added after several unsuccessful comment attempts this morning.
**************
Today I offer up 13 home remedies. I am taking these from two books: Home Remedies from a Country Doctor, by Jay Heinrichs, et al, and The People's Pharmacy Quick and Handy Home Remedies, by Joe and Terry Graedon.
Some of these I have tried, some not.
1. Drunken raisins. I wrote about how I make gin-soaked raisins earlier this week. I use it for arthritis.
2. Ice. Ice helps a lot of things, but mainly inflammation. It helps with arthritis, too. Ice helps these things: migraines, stiff neck, aches and pains. Don't crunch ice; it will break your teeth.
3. Certo and grape juice. Mixing these two together and drinking it is also supposed to help arthritis, according to the Graedons. Some people mix it with pomegranate juice instead of grape juice.
4. Cherries or cherry juice also lowers inflammation and helps with gout.
5. Vinegar is supposed to help with everything from weight loss to hair care. You can use it for dandruff, foot odor, head lice, heartburn, muscle cramps, nail fungus, poison oak rash, and swimmer's ear, too.
6. For indigestion or other stomach upset, drink chamomile tea. Aloe vera is also good the stomach.
7. Witch hazel is used to cure pimples and acne.
8. Avon's Skin-So-Soft is a good bug repellent. Here's a homemade ointment: melt 1 pound of petroleum jelly in the microwave. Stir in 1 ounce of citronella. Rub it on. Vitamin B1 is also supposed to keep bugs away. Apparently it makes your skin taste bad.
9. If you are having trouble sleeping, have a turkey sandwich and a glass of milk before bedtime.
10. Probiotics are good for yeast problems and diverticulitis. They also help with colds and flu, diarrhea, eczema, gas, and irritable bowel syndrome.
11. Honey helps with coughs, can help cure a wound, and may be useful for constipation, joint pain, and arthritis.
12. Listerine can be used for bug bites, blemishes, body odor, dandruff, lice, nail fungus, psoriasis, shingles, skin fungus, stinky feet, sunburn, and warts.
13. Speaking of warts, you can remove them by using bacon fat, banana peels, duct tape, garlic, aspirin (topically, not internally), and warm bath soaks.
None of these remedies are guaranteed to work. Try at your own risk and always consult a doctor if you have a concern.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 241st time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
I try to comment on everyone's blog, particularly if they visit me here. However, some of you have comment forms that psych me out completely. Some wordpress forms no longer work for me. Sometimes I can't figure out the captcha codes. Sometimes I leave a comment and it vanishes into thin air.
Please, please check your comment forms and make it easier! - added after several unsuccessful comment attempts this morning.
**************
Today I offer up 13 home remedies. I am taking these from two books: Home Remedies from a Country Doctor, by Jay Heinrichs, et al, and The People's Pharmacy Quick and Handy Home Remedies, by Joe and Terry Graedon.
Some of these I have tried, some not.
1. Drunken raisins. I wrote about how I make gin-soaked raisins earlier this week. I use it for arthritis.
2. Ice. Ice helps a lot of things, but mainly inflammation. It helps with arthritis, too. Ice helps these things: migraines, stiff neck, aches and pains. Don't crunch ice; it will break your teeth.
3. Certo and grape juice. Mixing these two together and drinking it is also supposed to help arthritis, according to the Graedons. Some people mix it with pomegranate juice instead of grape juice.
4. Cherries or cherry juice also lowers inflammation and helps with gout.
5. Vinegar is supposed to help with everything from weight loss to hair care. You can use it for dandruff, foot odor, head lice, heartburn, muscle cramps, nail fungus, poison oak rash, and swimmer's ear, too.
6. For indigestion or other stomach upset, drink chamomile tea. Aloe vera is also good the stomach.
7. Witch hazel is used to cure pimples and acne.
8. Avon's Skin-So-Soft is a good bug repellent. Here's a homemade ointment: melt 1 pound of petroleum jelly in the microwave. Stir in 1 ounce of citronella. Rub it on. Vitamin B1 is also supposed to keep bugs away. Apparently it makes your skin taste bad.
9. If you are having trouble sleeping, have a turkey sandwich and a glass of milk before bedtime.
10. Probiotics are good for yeast problems and diverticulitis. They also help with colds and flu, diarrhea, eczema, gas, and irritable bowel syndrome.
11. Honey helps with coughs, can help cure a wound, and may be useful for constipation, joint pain, and arthritis.
12. Listerine can be used for bug bites, blemishes, body odor, dandruff, lice, nail fungus, psoriasis, shingles, skin fungus, stinky feet, sunburn, and warts.
13. Speaking of warts, you can remove them by using bacon fat, banana peels, duct tape, garlic, aspirin (topically, not internally), and warm bath soaks.
None of these remedies are guaranteed to work. Try at your own risk and always consult a doctor if you have a concern.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 241st time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
Books: Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl
Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl
By Susan McCorkindale
Copyright 2008
349 pages
I wanted to like this book. I dislike giving bad reviews.
But I hated this book. I could not even finish it. I made it to page 115 and gave up.
I wanted my money back, actually.
There are people, I am sure, who would love this book. This book makes fun of southerners, finds people who are different stupid, and thinks the worst in people is good for a laugh. I know there are people who like that sort of thing.
I am not one of them.
I bought the book because it is a memoir about living on a cattle farm in Virginia. I live on a cattle farm in Virginia, and when I made the purchase back in January, I was finishing up my thesis, which is about living on a farm in Virginia.
You can see why I was interested.
After I bought the book, but before I read it, I checked out the author's website and learned her husband had passed way of pancreatic cancer. My mother died of that, too, so I thought, wow. I really want to read this book now.
I even subscribed to the author's Facebook feed. Which I quickly had to switch to "important only" because so much BS was coming across my newsfeed that I couldn't stand it. That should have warned me, I suppose. (I have since unsubscribed completely.)
In the book, the author uses a lot of foot notes - apparently she has many semi-related thoughts that she doesn't place within the text. The footnotes are annoying.
She used to be a marketing director at for a women's magazine; she lived in New Jersey, she is wealthy. Her husband's family lives in Virginia in a mansion. Money is not an issue.
But in the book she complains about everything. She complains about her job, and gloats (really!) about how she managed to screw over those who worked for her (I was glad I wasn't in that company). The family moves to Virginia, and she has to endure living in the mansion while their house on 500 acres is renovated. She has to endure a bad hairdresser. She can't figure out the dress code for the south. She has to put up with people who ride horses. These damn backwards southerners. Yuck yuck. A laugh a minute.
Not.
And heaven help us, there is no Starbucks close and she is apparently helpless without her latte. I think she mentions on every page that there is no Starbucks within 20 miles of her.
That's about as far as I got. For me not to finish a book says a lot. I usually can wade through the worst of them, but not this one.
What's really sad is there was a sequel to this book.
I won't be buying it.
By Susan McCorkindale
Copyright 2008
349 pages
I wanted to like this book. I dislike giving bad reviews.
But I hated this book. I could not even finish it. I made it to page 115 and gave up.
I wanted my money back, actually.
There are people, I am sure, who would love this book. This book makes fun of southerners, finds people who are different stupid, and thinks the worst in people is good for a laugh. I know there are people who like that sort of thing.
I am not one of them.
I bought the book because it is a memoir about living on a cattle farm in Virginia. I live on a cattle farm in Virginia, and when I made the purchase back in January, I was finishing up my thesis, which is about living on a farm in Virginia.
You can see why I was interested.
After I bought the book, but before I read it, I checked out the author's website and learned her husband had passed way of pancreatic cancer. My mother died of that, too, so I thought, wow. I really want to read this book now.
I even subscribed to the author's Facebook feed. Which I quickly had to switch to "important only" because so much BS was coming across my newsfeed that I couldn't stand it. That should have warned me, I suppose. (I have since unsubscribed completely.)
In the book, the author uses a lot of foot notes - apparently she has many semi-related thoughts that she doesn't place within the text. The footnotes are annoying.
She used to be a marketing director at for a women's magazine; she lived in New Jersey, she is wealthy. Her husband's family lives in Virginia in a mansion. Money is not an issue.
But in the book she complains about everything. She complains about her job, and gloats (really!) about how she managed to screw over those who worked for her (I was glad I wasn't in that company). The family moves to Virginia, and she has to endure living in the mansion while their house on 500 acres is renovated. She has to endure a bad hairdresser. She can't figure out the dress code for the south. She has to put up with people who ride horses. These damn backwards southerners. Yuck yuck. A laugh a minute.
Not.
And heaven help us, there is no Starbucks close and she is apparently helpless without her latte. I think she mentions on every page that there is no Starbucks within 20 miles of her.
That's about as far as I got. For me not to finish a book says a lot. I usually can wade through the worst of them, but not this one.
What's really sad is there was a sequel to this book.
I won't be buying it.
Tuesday, May 08, 2012
Drunk Raisins
You may have heard of a remedy for arthritis that involves gin-soaked raisins.
The People's Pharmacy, a health-care column that runs in our local paper, has written about the folk remedy for a long time.
When I had my foot x-rayed in November to show a stress fracture, the doctor also noted some serious arthritis in my toe. However, nothing to treat the arthritis was offered. So I decided to try the drunken raisin remedy.
To be sure, I have noticed a decrease in pain in my big toe. But improvement has been most noticeable in my knees, which used to hurt much more than they do now.
So I have kept up the routine of eating a spoonful of gin-soaked raisins one time each day.
Here is how I make them:
First, you need golden raisins and gin. I have read that there are different types of gin, some of which is really vodka. You need the real gin. I always ask at the liquor store, and they generally recommend Seagram's. They say that is what most people use for gin-soaked raisins. I have tried a couple other brands and so far I haven't really noticed a difference.
The raisin on the left is a sober raisin. The one on the right is plump from soaking in gin. I imagine it is pretty high.
I pour gin into a dish until the raisins are covered. Then I cover it with a dish towel or paper towels. I let it sit until the liquid evaporates, and I stir it once or twice day. The evaporation usually takes about three days, give or take a little humidity.
The People's Pharmacy, a health-care column that runs in our local paper, has written about the folk remedy for a long time.
When I had my foot x-rayed in November to show a stress fracture, the doctor also noted some serious arthritis in my toe. However, nothing to treat the arthritis was offered. So I decided to try the drunken raisin remedy.
To be sure, I have noticed a decrease in pain in my big toe. But improvement has been most noticeable in my knees, which used to hurt much more than they do now.
So I have kept up the routine of eating a spoonful of gin-soaked raisins one time each day.
Here is how I make them:
First, you need golden raisins and gin. I have read that there are different types of gin, some of which is really vodka. You need the real gin. I always ask at the liquor store, and they generally recommend Seagram's. They say that is what most people use for gin-soaked raisins. I have tried a couple other brands and so far I haven't really noticed a difference.
The raisin on the left is a sober raisin. The one on the right is plump from soaking in gin. I imagine it is pretty high.
I pour gin into a dish until the raisins are covered. Then I cover it with a dish towel or paper towels. I let it sit until the liquid evaporates, and I stir it once or twice day. The evaporation usually takes about three days, give or take a little humidity.
The raisins are fatter after they have soaked in the gin. I store the drunk raisins in an air-tight container.
Do not soak the raisins in the air-tight container as the gin will not evaporate. If you can taste the gin, then the evaporation process has not been going on long enough.
I would not advise eating gin-soaked raisins if one has alcoholic tendencies or problems with addiction.
Also consult with your doctor if you are taking medications of any kind.
Monday, May 07, 2012
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