Anticipating Mother's Day

Easter is over, along with the wedding of the decade. I’m ready to focus on an event a bit closer to home, Mother’s Day. The twenty-four hour period dedicated to honoring the woman who raised me, changed my diapers, waited up during date nights, planned my wedding reception, help tend my children, and generally speaking, is still my confidant on all things important in my life. This year, I realized something profound. Twenty-four hours, or one day out of 365, is a miniscule amount of time to remember or honor this woman. Assuming she lives to 90, that’s 20 days out of 7,300. Yikes.

Mom at 70 w/P-dog (feb '11)

Do Vera Wang flowers created especially for mom's best express the undying gratitude for teaching me how to stand up for myself in class? Don’t think so. And I’m not so sure a Mother’s Day charm bracelet represents how much her example of commitment to the principles of obedience, faith, and perseverance over all odds does her justice, despite the good marketing hype. 

Certainly, no card can capture the hilarity of Mom’s never-ending quest for a healthy mind and body. In my pre-pubescent years, this included her discovery and placement of silver, cardboard metal triangles in the corner of each room, shoving the twenty-five cent pieces in between the molding. This graduated to to her wearing new-age medallions with some sort of Egyptian thingy in the center to the Birkenstocks and homeopathy during my ever so conscious teenage years. And certainly no modern woman has worn a Chanel suit and Ferragamo pumps with her medallion during the day and Birkenstocks at night better than Mom, all in search of the unification of body, soul and getting rid of all that is toxic in this world.

In search of…

One year, I got Mom  a watch, but it was painful for both of us. I wanted to purchase her a horridly expensive piece with lots of diamonds, and was disappointed out when she informed me that “the ostentatious stage in her life had passed.”  A watch was a timepiece, she went on to explain, not a tiara, to be called out and displayed. It was to be worn without fanfare. This year, I was concerned about what to give the woman so precious, so dear to my heart. Yet with five siblings, my desire to be unique in my giving had not quite entirely dimmed.

“What do you want?” I asked, pleading with her to put me out of our misery. “To see you more,” she replied. She’s seventy. A veritable spring chicken compared to Hef.

.

During the recent trip to her home, I anticipated Mother’s Day, bringing chocolate, her favorite fingernail polish (non-toxic Butter from London) and myself. As Rog advocates, ‘give the receiver what they want, not what you want.” My presence satisfied her request. The chocolate didn’t hurt either.

3 generatoins of Swedes.

Here are a few of my ideas for mom’s….

The cook-a breadboard with mineral oil

The gardener- a seed basket

The musician- a player from Best Buy that blasts music out anywhere from any device (for cheap!)

The reader- the latest gadget(s)

The athlete- a spring outfit

The lounger- a spa trip (mother daughter/mother whomever)

The tv watcher- tivo, box set of favorite cds

Breadboards and Babes

A male friend of ours recently came over to talk with Rog about a new venture. I was in the kitchen, oiling down my breadboard.

“Why do you need to do that?” the friend wondered, taking a seat on the barstool as he waited for my husband to appear.I was a bit surprised to hear him ask, since he recently opened a bar and I figured he knew what I was doing. “Preserving the wood,” I responded, educating him on the why’s and what for’s of bread board protection.

“He’s never going to get a girl that way,” Rog said to me after his friend had left, reminding me that he had purposefully gone out and purchased 400 thread count sheets before he proposed to me as a way to show me he was the stuff from which good marriages come. If the dude didn't with system, Rog predicted, he'll never get a girl.

“Breadboards?” I asked, bemused. How was I to know about the integral link between a woman’s heart and a man’s ability to care for a breadboard.

Bread boards as art

Some folk have taken the love and use of breadboards to a level not seen on this terrestrial plane in which we live. My mom for example. This lovely Swede has over twenty bread boards, so many that she can over every square inch of her massive kitchen and then some on the floor. One day, during a fit of boredom, I helped her decorate the unused space above her cabinets with a mix of her breadboards and other useless but pretty items. The board she uses the most, a heavy, two-inch-thing board with metal handles, is an object I covet.

No matter how much one uses the kitchen, people need a breadboard for cutting apples, steak, onions, olives for drinks and of course, bread. Forget the gels, the silicone, the unnatural products that are from a melted, man-made substance. Natural is best—if, and only if, it is hygienic and preserved.

Real Cooks use Breadboards

The way to do this is to purchase mineral oil that is sold at most high end kitchen stores. It protects and seals the wood. The process has been used for centuries, but sadly, many kitchen-dwellers have either never been taught about this or know about it. Instead, mass hysteria about the unsanitary conditions of the bread board have turned a generation from the read cooks.

Fortunately, real cooks use breadboards. I have a large, thick (name) purchased from Sur la Table. As per the instructions on the mineral oil, I washed and oiled both sides (and edges) every day for a week. Thereafter, it was once per week. Want to impress your girlfriend? Get a breadboard and just happen to be oiling it before you get her a beverage. She’ll think you know everything there is to know about the kitchen, or are at least thorough and sanitary. It’s the best way to get the babe.

Forget the pre-nup numbers. Ask about the music.

Love is not what keeps Rog and I together. It's really music. When we were dating, one of our qualifying questions including music preferences. Yes, we advocate all dating couples to ask this question. Think of the hours in the car, train, plane, on the beach, in the home, tableside, entertaining--where music is involved. We agreed that we were going to put a rider clause (or an allonge for literary snobs) on our non-pre-nup (we are old-fashioned, and don't actually have one for those of you nosey enough to want to know). But if we did, we'd surely have the rider clause Spare yourself the divorce process. Talk music first. (as an aside, welcome Chile and Egypt. I'm mystified at how this blog spreads, but whatever. The world is indeed flat.

But relationships (countries or flat worlds) aren't the topic of this blog. It's meant to satisfy the musical requests of She, who complained to me just this morning about the fact that she doesn't make it to the computer everyday, and thus misses my musical selections. She is asking for a music log, and suggested that while I'm at it, I just log my "Did you know." Well, I'll make it half way and do the musical log.

Here's the deal. I post a song on the main page under Try This, then when I take it down, it will come here. Of course, I'm not going to copy all my commentary about why the song is special etc. Too much. Most recent on top.

Read on. Listen. Enjoy. PS. Don't forget that pre-nup rider clause about the music.

Sunlight by DJ Sammy. I have multiple versions-the original is slow, and I don't like it--the radio version is fine, this fast version is amazing (actually, multiple fast versions are great, including this funny, hardcore quasi-chipmuck version the Takaki Matsude Remix slow version is good writing music. (5/23)
Mariah...Honey (5/22)
I am what I am. Nice as it is, and great as background music, I'm a much bigger fan of the faster versions. This is the Lange remix--(5/21)
Addiction by Medina (5/18)
Feel it in my Bones (feat. Tegan & Sarah) by Tiesto (up for a wk)
Coast to Coast by Matrix and Futurebound off Freshtraxxx Vol. 3 (mixed by Utah Saints) 5/7
Armaggedon by Jessica Jarrell (5/5)
 She's a beauty by The Tubes (5/4)
Hard Workin man by Brooks and Dunn (5/3)
Juke Joint Jezebel (Mortal Combat Version) 5/2
Halcyon On and On by Orbital (5/1)
God is a DJ by Faithless (4/29)
Beautiful by Bennie Bennassi
Walk in to the Sun by Dirty Vegas
Concrete Schoolyard by Jurassic Five
Higher by Tao Cruz ft Kylie Monogue

Coolest flower arrangement

Modern arrangement:
fake flowers in center, real
on the outside

I've heard of this woman on TV who entertains "on the cheap." For non-Americans, this means creating a food or entertainment item that is half-real (e.g. made from real ingredients) while the other half is store bought. Since I rarely watch TV, I have no idea who she is, but think she's on to something. During Easter weekend, I had a baseball teams' worth of five year olds over for an Easter Bunnie Princess Tea Party, and not being English or a tea drinker myself (savae for the occasional chamomile, which I'm not sure counts), I had to fudge it. I did the unthinkable for a Swede. I cheated.

The flowers



1 day ltr-the color has
seeped through



Step 1: I purchased several bunches of fake flowers from the local nursery in yellows. I love fresh flowers, but gosh-darnit, this weather is miserable. The rest of the country gets more sun that it needs with tornados thrown in, and we are suffering from the monsoon of el Nina. It's not my fault mom. I had no choice.

Step 2: I spent $5 bucks at the grocery store on Porsche's color of choice (purple).

1 day later--a beatiful arrangement for
<$15 bucks.

Step 3: Arrangement--the best part. Placing the purple daisies (that had been dyed) allowed the color to gradually seep in to the water. It was easy, fresh and changed the entire look of the bathroom.

Give the people what they want

A few of my loyalists have been mourning the loss of She, as though her absence in these blogs were an indication of some falling out. To wit "What happened to her?" asked one of my closest friends. "She's my favorite part!" No pun intended on the She of course.

Nothing has happened to She, other than her life as a mom, businesswoman, fashionista, musician self who makes me look rather dull actually. I envy her dark, aubrun hair, her creamy color vampire white skin, the fact that she can whip up a mean bread pudding and do it all without looking worse for the wear. The poor girl was busy, yes, but she also had a complaint.

"You're getting too serious. Mix it up!" Sounds familiar doesn't it. Between her and my mom, it seems as though my readers want my advice on keeping my 20 inch pimpin tires glossly like licorice coating, how to plump up the lips like Angie, and the secret for keeping my "dynamic" relationship with Rog alive and on fire. No missives on religion or politics here. In point of fact, they probably are on to something. My blog about Heaven is for real cost me 8 regular readers (or so I divine from my followers) while my blog on the 5 minute slice of horizontal heaven earned me a few back. I might point out that my Eastern European following is growing by leaps and bounds along with the Australian contigent, something I can only attribute to ny great tea cakes,  listening to great dance music and how to get rid of frogs.

Thank you She, for setting me back on the path of creating an enduring following. Give my low-ride driving, big, glossy lipped relationship seeking men and women what they want.

Here you go: some latest beauty favs from my movie folks that I have just found and fallen in love with:

Men, buy this for Mother's Day
if you like A Jolie's lips (or
any Victoria Secret modesl)

1. Rodin Olio Lusso balm. It's what they consultants use backstage at the Victoria Secret shows for the models. It has jasmine oil and has a great scent, but it locs in the moisture making the lips look fuller. It was feature this month in InStyle Mag. I have 2 in nude colors so I can put stuff over it. It's $28 bucks, but SOOO worth it.

2. L'oreal Paris Infallible. this is the best inexpensive lipgloss in a tube for $10 bucks at Walgreens. I'm not kidding you. I have 4 colors of these babies that are right next to my 3 colors of Chanels. Guess what? For the a quarter of the price, the L'Oreal product works pretty darn great.

My favorite self-tanning

3. Self-tanners. I have been using the lastest Christian Dior self tanning product that I "just had to have" around the dismal, February pick-me-up season. Girlfriends (and boys, you know I'm also talking to you), don't bother. Go down to any grocery store (or Walgreens or Target) and pick up the L'oreal self tanning lotion for 10. It's a) faster, b) more even on the front and back of legs, c) smells better and d) is cheaper. I had to use four days of the Dior product to get what took only 3 hours to accomplish with L'Oreal.

Tips: I use the L'Oreal after showering, or in the morning. It has an immediate effect which is a bonus. Two hours later, I have a great tan. After two days, the skin looks great.

I hope my dearest She is now satisfied at least to read a bit more and complain a bit less. Oh, how I adore the honesty of friends. Thanks to a weekend of cooking for Easter, entertaining for friends and cultivating the Garden, I'll be mixing up more, and heaven forbid, get serious. Although I may fall off the wagon a few times. You'll just have to overlook my digressions of serious thought until I come back around to the frivolity of life.

The Grand Scheme of Things

When Jane approached me in the hallway of the church, I thought it was to wish me a happy Easter. She drew near, touched my arm lightly, and leaned forward.

"I always knew we were friends for a reason," she began, her breath smelling slightly like menthol. Jane, you see, is nearly 80. Her short, white hair framed her face, her once taut skin now covered with a sheer veil of fine facial hair. Her husband walked by, an erect figure several years older than she, giving me a broad smile as he tapped the center of my back in recognition. Jane and her husband Mac were the two people I felt comfortable sitting by when I'd started going to church after years of negligence. My ten-year stint in San Fransisco was spent largely darkening the doorways of nightclubs rather than brightening the seats of worship. When I got up the nerve to start attending in the small town where I now live, the elderly couple was invisible to my platinum white hair I'd cut in a bob and Gwen Stefani red lipstick. This particular day, I'd spoken about loss and living, without mentioning specifics, in response to a group discussion about how one carries on in the midst of heart-wrenching trials."I want to tell you something," she continued, when the others had entered the classroom, leaving us alone.

She then proceeded to tell me that she and her former husband had gotten in a fight. He pulled out a gun and proceeded to shoot all three of their children. He spared Jane, telling her it was his intention to hurt her as much as possible. By killing the children she loved and leaving her alive would accomplish her goal. He was arrested, tried and convicted, and is still serving his sentence. Jane was left in her mid-twenties, a griefstricken, childless woman. It was not until Jane was in her seventies that she found Mac, the man I'd assumed she'd married, had children and the grandchildren that came to various Sunday events. Those were Mac's, Jane said, telling me he was a widower when they met, and after several years of courtship, they married. She was seventy-three. Almost fifty years after that life-altering day.

"There is hope," she said, placing her cold hand on my forearm. With the kindness honed from fifty years of being judged by strangers, shunned by potential suitors and a regular topic of the corner store gossip discussion, she did her best to tell me how to cope with my situation. "Love," she said, "not bitterness. It's the only thing that will keep you from hate." I didn't have much to say in return, and I supposed she knew exactly how I felt. Her eyes brightened though glistening with tears, her wordless assurance that all would be right in my world.

Mac died last year and recently Jane moved back to be with her 'grandchildren,' the loving family that have adopted their second grandmother and mother. I miss Jane's perspective, her wisdom and bright eyes, and am forever grateful for taking me in as one of her own. Her words still give me comfort and hope. Instead of despairing, I look on the bright side. Fifty years isn't that long in the eternal, grand scheme of things for things to turn around. Maybe I'll get lucky. It will only be forty-nine.

Does He really love me?

Today I meant to write about breadboards. It goes with eating, kitchens, and in particular, being sanitary and preserving the expensive wood. Instead, I'm going to expose myself to all sorts of ridicule and scorn by throwing to the world a question about a very popular and compelling book: Heaven is for Real.

Let me say first off, it doesn't matter what religion, gospel or aura a person believes in. A person should believe in enlightenment, no matter what form it takes. An investigator studies a subject from all angles. So should we. Thus, I read lots of theology, because I like to be informed when I'm talking to people of different faiths (it's also a bit more respectful, and I don't like being an ignoramous). Now, as my mother says, "don't preach. I want breezy!"

He does love me
So I liked Heaven is for Real, for about 20 minutes after I finished the last page. This is when I sunk in to a slight funk that lasted nearly two weeks. The world went a bit more grey than is usual for Washington. My heart felt sad. It was like an extended blood sugar level dip. In my wierd, analytical way, I retraced my steps and it led me to the time I read the book. What was it, I wondered, that was causing me to be dissapointed when I should have been uplifted and encouraged? It wasn't that that the kid was Protestant (for He appears to all. Could have been anyone). Nor was it a jealously thing (or who would want their kid to die in order to have an afterlife experience). Here was the big reveal. The center of my sadness is the number of times in this book, and in other book that mention Jesus, that He loves the children. Over and over this message is given.

Now, I'm not a complete dunce. I fully understand that the little children are God's greatest gift, innocent and pure. Unafflicted with the nasty characteristics adults can develop. The irony being of course, as we grow, learn and develop, that we must remain humble, open, trusting, loving and sensitive to the needs of others, just as we were as a child. The reality, for me anyway, is that I may never, in this life, return to the land of innocence, the times of yore where I can shrug off hurt, the scars of bad mistakes, and dismiss the noise in my life that leads me to unconsciously ignore the soft signs of a friend hurting, a relative in need or my own child wanting to hold my hand. The sadness stemmed from the realization and real fear that I won't be good enough to meet the standards of the Lord, and I will therefore be left behind. The circle of love will be closed to me, and I'll be standing outside of it.

All the teachings tell me otherwise. I am loved equally to all others on this Earth. The rational part of my mind didn't reconcile with my heart for weeks. My closure came only with the simple truths. My prayers are answered. My life is blessed in many ways. I feel guided in many ways, through simple promptings that help me good decisions. That's what I experience and it's real. So much so that my dear, unbelieving and somewhat sarcastic husband never fails to remind me to pray or go to church, since he says our "life is so much better when you do." Nothing is a clearer sign than I am loved than that.

4 hr natural fix for Food Poisoning

Mortality is best contemplated face down, spewing venomous chunks of previously eaten food from one end, while the other lights up the Earth with flames large enough to make a dragon blush. Such was my weekend, courtesy of a husband and child who returned from a vacation to a foreign land, and brought back silver bracelets and Montezumas revenge. Did you know that food poisoning can spread? Indeed. Vomit and cleaning up entrails leaves nasty bacteria around. In my case, after spending Sat night and Sun taking care of the undead, it jumped to me, then I passed it to my youngest. I can truthfully say I've never been in so much pain in my body in perhaps the last 20 yrs.

Once again, I've learned so you can be prepared.

Always have some on hand
and get 200 c if you can

Arsenicum Album, 30 c. You can buy it here, there or anywhere. Called my Swami, but knew what he was going to say before he said it. The tell tale signs for food poisoning is a) liquid out both ends b) pain in the legs and hurting al over (the electolites leaving the body), c) feverish. I had some on hand, and this worked for 2 of the four of us, Rog and Sophia. However, after day 2, both me and Porsche relapsed. Which means that after the fever and pain left, it came back within 8 hrs. Our stomach's starting hurting again and the fever returned. Swami upped it to 200c. This is harder to come by in the store, and probably has to be purchased from a licensed homeopath. I always have some on hand, and thankfully, I did. Last night, after taking a dose, I was better within 3 hours and am now back with the land of the living.

**Note-updated 12/27/2011

About a month after posting this, I had another run-in with food poisoning. As if I'm ever going to learn. It was during this second bout that I learne a bit more about the use (and non-use) of Arsenicum.

First off, if you don't take the remedy as outlined above, the food poisoning can come back with a vengence. 2nd time around, I only needed 30c, and would have beenf fine except that I got lazy and stopped taking it on day 4 (this would be the 2x a day for 2 days). By that evening, I was sick again, puked, humbly gulped some Pedialyte and started again.

2nd--and this was incredibly important-- when I got sick this time around, I got SICKER when I took the Arsenicum. As in, I took it, then violently threw up. It was 6 am and I didn't want to call Swami on his cell, so I waited until 11 am, when, me-being-me, figured it was good to take another dose and I'd be fine. WRONG. I puked again. I was moaning in pain around 1 pm and Rog says "have you called Dr. Albert?" I groaned. He gave me the phone and I called.

"Take it every 15 minutes!" he practically yelled at me. But..but...I stammered, "why would I take something that's going to make it worse?

"Because obviously the poison you have in you is very strong and needs to get out," he explained, his voice having gone back down to a normal volume. "I have some patients who have to take it every 5 minutes until they get better."

"You mean I'm going to go through this--again?" I'd been using to Arsenicum healing me nearly instantaneously. This was new.

"Of course!" he huffed, probably thinking all the years of treating me had gone to waste. "When your body is done ridding itself, you will feel better. Then drop back to once every hour or every two hours. When it gets better, then drop to every four hours. When you are finally well, then start the program of 3x a day for 3 days and so on."

I followed his advice. Took another hit of Arsenicum, puked and it finally got out of my system. I waited 2 hours, took one, then waited 4, took one and then went to bed. The following day, I started on the regime (but was idiotic enough to get lazy. See point 1).

Now you know the most important element of food poisoining healing. you're welcome.

Hair reviver for $10

It's been a two month journey through the valley of bad hair. It started with nirvana, a first date with a Brazilian blowout that ended up shafting me like a great one-night stand gone awry. My hair started cracking off around the hairline, then splitting in the middle. It would have been at least acceptable had it been wonderful session of hair pulling during the wild-thing, but no. Come to find out, it was all because of the horridly high cancer causing levels of formaldihyde in the Bralizian goo that was slathered on my head.

Lacking the hours in the day to slog to the beautician every week to get my hair on the mend, I start taking truckloads of prenatal vitamins, eat spinach and then research strengthening, hair mending/shining products. Once again, hundreds of dollars spent to experience a trendy, (though pretty) effect has now giving me a hard kick in the booty, as it only took $9.00 (US) to resurrect my damaged hair.

Silk hair and smells good to boot

Umberto Hair Treatment. Wet hair (or shampoo), leave damp, put Umbert on and leave for 20 min. Rinse out (but don't wash out). The first week my hair looked like it had been reborn again, a newborn right after changing, sans the red eyes. Glossy, shiny, no frizz. The 2nd week, the ends were markedly better, not so flightly. It recommends 1x a wk, and I'll probably keep going w/it. Besides saving me $50 a shot for a 20 min deep conditioning treatment, and 45 min each way (plus bbsitter time and mental damage), it smells great. Don't be the fool like me. Skip the Brazilian (blowout, thanks She), spend the $14 on Umberto and use the other $200+ for some nice shoes, or better yet, the poor folks in the south who just got their homes destroyed.

Referral fees: Putting cash in your pocket

The world must have a frog problem. Dozens of hits on the frog deterrent post. I'm happy to have contributed to the healthy, non-amphibian-harming way of deterring frogs. Will mention one other useful book. This Insect guide is local to north America, but is quite good for ferreting out issues in lawns etc.

Now on to the blog topic. Making money off referrals.  Agents receive money for negotiating deals, and retailers receive money for distributing products. Manufacturer's reps receive commissions from placing a new product in a store. Why shouldn't a person receive money for referring business that results in revenue or product sale?

This is not as tacky as it seems, nor is it wrong under the right circumstances. Wrong circumstances include those that are illegal, such as providing a referral to an attorney in Nevada. Under the state law, attorney's can't give referral fees. I discovered this only after giving 2 separate attorney's about $25K in initial business. One attorney grew the business from $12K to about $21K in less than three months for estate planning and business structuring. The other had litigation work and I had a Nevada-based client that required help in that area. It's easy to find out if accepting referral fees is legal in your state.

That said, insurance agents and accountants aren't generally bound by this law, nor is the average consultant. I'll give you a great example...

My consulting firms refers hundreds of thousands of dollars to various software development companies for the dev portion of our consulting work (this would be the business side of my life, not the author side obviously). It's structured like this:

1-referral fee, upfront when the first money is collected, and is small % of the overall value
2-revenue share. This is a NET value of the project, and ranges, from 5-25%, depending on the gross margins of the project.
3-long term revenue

Old schoolers (people above 50) dislike net revenue because it makes the math challenging. It also increases the risk-factor, as the partner must be honest, and not throw in every expense plus the kitchen sink. On the other hand, it's a great partnership, since our take rises and falls with the margins of the project. It has worked out very well for our relationship. Note item number three. Historically, referral fees will be paid out for a year. However, this particular partner doesn't want us to take our referrals elsewhere. For that reason, they have extended the fees for as long as the contract is in place. Further, they have also extended us a portion of revenue that comes from the contact we created.

Imagine structuring this with a small business-painter, contractor, organizational consultant, life coach, carpet cleaner. The list is as limitless as the thousands of SIC business codes. For the 19.6 M micro-businesses w/less than 20 employees, a referral structure can also benefit from being loose.

Here's another example. I recently introduced the videographer that created the sizzle reel for The Kim Sisters. Tyson does great work, has been in business for about 4 years and has great prices. My make up artist (I say 'my' loosely. She's a professional who has worked as the key hair and make-up artists on film and tv, and I benefit from using her every so often). In any case, they know one another, I've set the two up, and if work comes from it, Melanie will give me some free make-up or do my hair or make-up when I need something special. It may not sound like much, but the make-up itself is worth hundreds, and I can't get access to it if I wanted (I'm not licensed or have the connections). A make-up session is hundreds of dollars. I don't necessary need cash. I'm saving tons of money for the service.

An on that note, when it comes to identifying this to the IRS, new laws are on the books to ensure Uncle Sam gets his fair share. It must be claimed if you are a law-abiding citizen. Even non-cash equivalent should be claimed, but no attorney or accountant I. Talk to yours to be sure.... 

Declining Invitations w/out Destroying Friendships

It's Thursday. Getting ready for dinner dates, some given, others received. It's time to tackle a sticky subject. Turning down dinner invites. This happens the world over, and people (read, women) are in desperate need of some etiquette tips on this subject. My readers are wonderful in a sick kind of way, for it is a Sarah trueism that I'm guaranteed to share some mortifying story that as She says, "can only happen to me."

I'm not so sure about that. It's a probability downcurve that would suggest I'm the only person that's been stood up or turned down for a dinner invitation at the house. I'm not talking about singledome wherein a dinner invite was preparatory to a romantic pursuit. No. I'm talking the dinner invite where you and your partner invite over another couple, weeks in advance (this happens w/travel schedules). The menu is created around food preferences, the drinks are designed to match the food. Flowers are bought, and who knows, maybe even special flatware or cool centerpieces are ordered. Then the guests don't show.

All this happened last winter when we invited a set of friends over. The guys are meat and potato men, but I did an Italian twist, which meant a Swedish version of deep dish scalloped potatoes, a bread-covered ham, chocolate mousse and the item that took the longest--a rustic Italian bread made with a sponge. (I'll cover this in a different blog. Suffice it to say it's the only way to go with bread, a nice, hearty, crunchy crust with a divine, moist center). It takes 6-8 hours though, and is a labor of love I do only for the folks I really love...

(As a side note, spring and summer invites are casual around here. Entertaining is on the deck or a mix of the dining room, that has accordion doors that slide open. Jeans or shorts and maybe a dip in the water if its nice. Point being-it's relaxed. Fall and winter are different. It's indoors. Longer in duration. More of an 'event."?

The bread has come out of the oven and is resting, the potatoes in the warming oven, the candles are lit and then 5 min before, I get a call.

"Sorry, we can't find a babysitter." The uncharitable part of me was shocked: we'd only planned it for a month. Worse, I think the woman forgot she told me she already found one. The charitable side of me surfaced only after Rog consoled/flattered me they'd never been over for a fall/winter dinner, and probably figured we were throwing on burgers and chips. "No one entertains around here," he said. By that, he means this: In San Fran, people take entertaining seriously, like mom did as a kid. A full, multi-course meal with the china and crystal. I don't always go that far, usually only for the holiday meals. "Just call up our friends," he suggested, referring to a couple about 10 years older than us who had their son home visiting from college. I did, we had a wonderful meal and I didn't think about it until a few months later when the truth came out.

Surfing Facebook, I saw a picture of the woman who had dropped a few sizes. She looked great-maybe it was 3 sizes total. In any case, Rog talked to her husband, who revealed she'd been on a strict diet that "'would have been blow to shreds if they'd come over to our house for dinner." Mystery solved. The silly girl. All she needed to do was tell me she was on a diet and I could have catered to her needs. I'm serious. I've been on a diet half my life--most women I know are in the same boat. I've got great recipes from meat to vegan that work. sheesh. Still, I completely understood her dilemma. She probably didn't want to call me, tell me herself, have me go to some effort. It was better to avoid me like the plague altogether.

That spawned this blog on turning down dinner invitations.
Option 1: You want to go but are on a diet, are embarrassed and don't want to offend. You won't. Trust me. Vegans have no problem telling the world of their dietary requirements. Do the same. Call the hostess, tell her the deal, what you can and can not eat. If you don't want to trouble her, tell her you can bring something, but give her the option. It's always odd when bringing something. However, I had a Vegan tell me she didn't trust anyone to make her food but her and I was completely fine with that. Her husband is a full-blown meat eater (as are her kids) so everyone was happy.

Option 2: You don't want to go but know the hostess will get peevish. Turn it down by giving a real, valid, bullet-proof excuse. (You are out of town). Turning down a person enough times guarantees that eventually, the hostess will get the hint and stop inviting you over.

Option 3: You don't want to go but think the hostess will be fine. Tell the truth. I've also had friends tell me they (or their partner) "didn't really gel" with my husband. Well, it's harsh but true. I call it couple dating. Not everyone gets along w/partners, so why force a square peg in a round hole? It ruins everyone's evening.

As a side note, spring and summer invites are casual around here. Entertaining is on the deck or a mix of the dining room, that has accordion doors that slide open. Jeans or shorts and maybe a dip in the water if its nice. Point being-it's relaxed. Fall and winter are different. It's indoors. Longer in duration. More of an 'event."

Recommendation:
Always ask about food preferences. Diet, vegan, meat lover, what fish types does the spouse avoid etc. Also ask about drinks. Way importante.

The epilogue to this story is that we did in fact, have this couple over a few months after. And yes, this girl was guite mortified. It was no big deal though. All is forgiven with a good sponge bread.

Slim down and Lean up in 2.5 min

150 seconds of your day. 2.5 minutes. That's what it's going to take you to lean out your inner thighs, reduce the fudgecicle that's permanently attached to the top of your knee, tighten your butt and eliminate the cellulite that's on the back of your thigh. Ready?

Inner thigh squats, 3 sets, 25 each. This is more commonly referred to as the Ple'e. Legs are set hip distance apart, toes pointed out at a 45 degree angle, knees bent at the starting position. I like to do this when I'm on my walks. When P-dog and I out, she does her doggy business and I bang out 25 squats. This is a great video on the subject.

I adore this exercise. When I want to get busy for an upcoming trip (say, my one to NV in a few weeks) I'll add 5 pound weights and do arm raises at the same time. This gives me the triple bonus of leaning out my shoulders, tricepts as well as seriously reducing my inner thighs. do it now!

Slim, shapely calves in 2.5 minutes
Another 150 seconds and you can realize the dream of thinning out your calves. When my next door neighbor complimented mine along with asking how it can be done, she took the 2.5 minute calf slim down shape up challenge. Here it is:

3 calve exercises, can be done anywhere, anytime with or without shoes.

Calf raise

Exercise 1. Stand with feet hip distance apart, feet forward. Raise heels up 25 times, without going down all the way (barely touching the ground w/your heels if you must).
Exercise 2. Turn toes outward, the heals turning in a bit. Raise heels up 25 times w/out going down all the way. When you are done, take the time to stretch by placing one foot behind you, giving yourself a good calve stretch. Then switch to the other leg and do same.
Exercise 3. Turn toes inward @45 degrees, bending knees to where they are barely touching. Lift your heels up, 25 times. This should burn  nicely.

After 2 week so this, my neighbor's calves were more tone and had the nice cut (e.g. muscle definition) under her calve. This exercise series are great for anyone of any age.

Mole Skin and Bananas: Curing Aching Legs

Woke this morning with achy legs. As I lay, staring at the ceiling, I figured this was payback for making fun of my mother's complaints about her own achy legs that started when I was a teen. The woman walked 5 miles a day, every day, while I was growing up. It wasn't until she stopped that she started having issues, and in my oh-so-intelligent reasoning, told her that she justed need to start working out again. She pinched her nose and remained silent in a way that irritated me. It was the look that said "you are young. You don't get it and I'm not going to waste my time." It took 20 years, but her payback eventually came.



Ice climbing in Ouray-rt off Main St!
Thrill-seeking I am, I went 4x4ing,
drew the line at ice climbing

It was after a long hike in the mountains of Colorado, in a small town called Ouray, over the "hill" from Telluride. Ouray is where Rog grew up, a quaint bit of history that claims to be the Switzerland of America, drawing thrill seekers from around the world who want to experience the most challenging 4x4ing in the the US, climb the ice falls in the winter, relax in underground hot springs and dine on fine chocolate. I was a mere 28, but my legs were aching, and my rather rough-looking, backwoods father-in-law who had hair to his shoulders and never met a Budweiser beer he didn't like, offered two bits of free advice.
Mole skin and Bananas. The mole skin was actually for my blisters, for I'd not worn "Colorado tough" shoes, said he, shaking his head at the naievete of my San Francisco self. He then handed me half a banana and told me I'd be fine in 30 minutes. "You don't have any potassium in your body," he said, explaining that exercise depletes the body of potassium. He then educated me in the tie between all sorts of physical ailments and natural cures. That was the beginning of my appreciation for my Woodstock attending, pot-loving product-of-the-seventies father-in-law. Sure enough, bananas helped my legs and forever more. When I travel though, I take potassium supplements just in case I can't find bananas.

My brand of choice
available just about
everywhere

Prenatal vitamins.
I started taking these in high school, not due to pregnancy, but vanity actually. I wanted nice fingernails, skin and hair. Mom always took prenatals and a wonderful multi-vitamin. Like mother, like daughter, and I've never regretted it. With the studies that took place well after I was in a teen, and came out when I was preparing to get pregnant, it was a bonus to learn that the folic acid was included, thus reducing the probability of a neurological defect in my unborn child.

This morning, I realized that 1) I hadn't taken a prenatal in a week or so out of sheer laziness, 2) my bananas were rotten, and I can't stand old bananas, not even in shakes but 3) I had my potassium pills. I was saved! 2 hours later, no more achy legs.

Mom doesn't have the long, naturally and eternally sun-bleached blond hair of my father-in-law, nor does she request a cold Bud when she comes to our house. However, she should get credit for refraining from telling me what she knew about the potassium when she could have. I wasn't in a sufficient place of pain to listen. My FIL was, and thus, he got the credit at the time, when dear mom, knew it all along.

Radiation rage: drop dairy now

With all the news about the nuclear crisis worsening, it was bound to have some effect--pyschological or physical--on a few of us today. According to my swami, the number one symptom of nuclear tainting in humans is irritability.

My internal, radiation-fide self
trying to get out
 (but golly, don't I have white teeth?)

"I'm receiving calls from my patients from up and down the west coast," he drawls in his Indian-slash-Scottsdale Arizona twanglish. "You are just one example.

Yes, shocking to think that my mild-mannered self would be having Nordgren-style hissy fits whilst planting a Wate's Golden Pine by my very own golden pond (with froglets to be sure). I call him up to tell him I'm all out of sorts and he asks me the five golden questions of any homeopathic doctor.
1-how are you feeling?
2-any feels, worries, concerns?
3-how are you sleeping?
4-how is your sex life?
5-any food cravings

From these five questions, I'm pretty sure the problems of the universe could be solved. While Rog used to scoff, Swami accurately identifies what's happening and prescribes some or other herb that was probably used to kill rodents in latin america. Whatever. It works. Last week, I was having murder dreams, as in, every night, a new batch of people were trying to kill me. I'd just finished biting the hand of a man trying to drown me in a tub, only to get out and be chased in to a dark building by another group of marauders. Not a pleasant night's sleep does that make. I get the diagnosis (increase the remedy strength by 1-and he sends this to me).

That was 7 days ago, and sure enough, I sleep better (no chasing dreams, but now I'm plagued by men who are interested in me, but don't want to do anything but "talk." ARG!!!! That's my own personal version of sexual pergatory!!! I'm a Swede for crying out loud. Can someone please tell the dream-Gods of my...ah...needs!!!).

I'm not a fear-monger mind you, and am not down with wearing a mask on my face or going outside (see recommendations below). It's spring after all. It's planting and tree trimming time. That doesn't mean I'm not going to read what others have to say, or listen to a man who's been right for 7 years straight.

Regardless, the irritability has come up and here is what Swami recommends, so take a listen:

1. Eliminate all dairy for a few weeks, or until the radiation fallout subsides.
Eggs and dairy (anything from a cow) are the bottom of the food chain...any animal that eats and drinks from the Earth, that is presently being contamintated, suffers from internal toxic build-up. This gets passed on when the animal spits out its goods. It is particularly bad on the west coast, and as far as he said, products from other places was OK.

2. use dairy alternatives--these are organic (or not) and are pre-packaged. I have friends with dairy intolerance, and they've learned how to make everything w/these substitutes.

3. Stay indoors as much as possible. Um, no. see above. However, I will temper it a bit. I don't want my daughter being shrewish. She is only 15 mo after all.

I asked about my organic Greek yogurt I've been hooked on, and he approved it, as its made in NY. whew. Swami said it would be a few days for the badness to get out of my system, but it will indeed, happen. So for now, I'm going to lay off the eggs for breakfast and cheese w/lunch. Sadness abouts, but will probaby be a good thing for my thighs and my happy factor alike.

Frog Deterrent

Last night was quiet. Eerily so. It was eleven o'clock, so I got the dog but left the gun in the safe. We wandered about in the rain and then it hit me. The frogs weren't barking.

I was actually quiet worried something had happened to the little buggers. The pond was one of the reasons Rog and I had purchased was once the world's biggest dump of a property. About the only thing the former owner had done right was nurture this 9-foot watering hole, moved some huge boulders around for a waterfall, and added trout that have grown to about 12 inches long. This wasn't even the main attraction. The barking frogs reminded Rog of his Colorado roots, and me of summers at our cabin in northern California.

 Had some invisible plague swept on our property only, skipping over the pond a thousand feet down the hill and through the woods, only to hit our water effects? Unlikely. Our pond is the blessed sort that has thousands of frogs, and a few massive northwest bullfrogs (for my southern friends, big up here is the size of a man's palms, which is micro compared to the big-daddy Louisiana monsters).

Went inside, hit the Internet and pulled up frog deterrent, hoping to come up with some reverse osmosis solution. Our property is free of pesticides (and cides of all types), no moles, tracks of frog-eating mammals. In short, the sites were worthless because they were pretty much all pro-frog site (as they should be).

I went back outside and surveyed the area. As I stood by a small, man made water effect that Rog did in about 4 hours of downtime, I heard a lone bullfrog barking. This water effect is just just across the lane on the property, but one look was all it took to have my moment of clarity. The man-made area has only one, underwater light and a single above ground light. It is natural, subtle, and away from the pond itself, directed up at a tree. Yesterday morning, I'd installed flourescent lights all around the pond about every five feet. It wasn't necessary: more for aesthetics. The spread of light was approximately three feet in diameter. In other words, I'd lit up the pond like a lightening rod. I hypothesized the frogs weren't going to get near the lights, hop or move around or bark, since they would basically be giving a suicidal shout. Since I love my frogs more than I love my property to look like a million bucks, I ignored the rain that had started to fall, and started gathering up the lights I'd painstakingly placed earlier in the day.


After an hour, me and P-dog went back outside. The moment I stepped outside, my ears rejoiced. The thousands were in their glory, howling at the moon. So, for all you folks who don't believe the dulcet voices of the little amphibians, here is your 5 dollar solution. ENJOY!

Deterring Frogs

Solar Flourescent path lights from Lowes. On line it's a buck more than I paid in store. Why? Who knows. Wet area discount? Iny any case, I paid $4.95 US.

couldn't find a pic of mine but
this is an example

The saleman told me the battery inside will last about a year, and then need to be replaced. The other thing...it takes about 45 min to charge (in full sunlight) for each hour of light at night. It's Washington, and if you didn't know about it before Twilight, it's a bit dank and dreary up here. I had low expectations that the things would even get charged. HOWEVER-- don't despair. In this overcast environment, these suckers still eeked out light for about six hours a night (how do I know this? I was up at 3 am and saw for myself). I'd imagine the gal in England can now rest easy, knowing the environment and frog issue will be rectified.

PS--I don't know if the regular lights (the ones that are natual light and use electricity). I purchased these to be "green" (oh, the irony of this is enough to make my mother giggle with glee).

oh--and I did reuse the lights. Today I placed the 25 or so around the back of our property where the bears have hung out. We'll see if they deter the black bears that are running amock...

Covering up redness on face, eyes and elsewhere

Last night was rough. For all of us. Maybe even you. My friend was up till 4. Mom all night, partying like the rockstar that she is, or will be in the next life to come. The common bond amongst all are red splotches on the face, my own attributed to laser resurfacing, exacerbated by yet another fitful night.

Help is on the way. I've now had 3 weeks to try every product brand specifically made for covering up red on the face available in America. I was about to go overseas when I called off the search, having made the trek to Mecca,  my own person deliverance found here in this great land.

Red on the face comes in 2 fashions....under and over eyes, which is really odd, a tell-tale of laser resurfacing or the evidence really really hard night. I address both in this blog...so get ready. My hundreds of dollars was spent so you only need to spend $30. Wahuuu!

To cut short the reading....
The top brands had nothing on 2 middle-road brands, L'Oreal and Rimmel. In fact, I loved the Rimmel Soft Kohl kajal Eye liner Pencil for the rim of the eye (the part right above the bottom eyelash). The upscale brands (Chanel white eye liner) has always been hard to roll on, and over the last few years, I've used a trick I learned during my modeling days, which was to use a lighter, get the end hot, then roll it on. It comes on easy, and stays put when it dries. But what a pain huh? I mean really, the last time I used a lighter was when I attended a Bon Jovi concert, and I'm talking, the 80's, not the revival. Instead of going Chanel, go Rimmel. It goes on smooth and lasts a few hours. The other trick (also learned during those glory years) is to take white eye shadow and, using an eyebrow brush (or thin brush), dab the eyeshadow on top of the liner. This makes it stay put. (All beauty fashionistas will know this same trick applies with lipstick....)

At 8.99 the BEST on the market

In terms of foundation and a concealer....the best foundation I found is the L'Oreal Studio Secrets Professional Color correcting primer. It goes on really smooth, dries fast, and can be applied over the entire face. When I was at the Lancome counter (Lancome and Loreal are owned by the same firm and Loreal is the equivalent of the ready-to-wear line of its coutier Lancome sister), the saleslady told me that "the Loreal product is a lot better," giving me the last one they had. I took her advice, used it and am very pleased.

My only knock against this product is that the under eye and eyelid needs to be caked on with a good mineral powder (I have several, but any will work, from Bare Essentials, to L'Oreal or Maybelline). So I had to breakdown and try green-tinted concealers.

This made me hearken back to being 17, when I was told to use this stuff (college freshman. 'nuff said.). I used Clinique, which is a great product, but for a fraction of the price, the Maybelline is easier to get at any drugstore like Walmart of Bartells, thus saving me a trip to the dreaded mall. If I'm going to drive in to town, I want a shopping experience, not one where I'm standing next to kids covering up zits (more on that later). The Maybelline Coverstick corrector concealer. In addition to under the eye and eyelid, it's the concealer one uses at the edges of the nose and at the crease of the chin (between it and the lip). It is so effective, Rog took it to cover up an 'owie' that had appeared on his nose, prompting Porsche to ask her daddy why he was "using a green lipstick on his nose." Kids and laser resurfacing patients aren't the only ones needing this little miracle worker.

(PS. couldn't find a picture of this on Amazon, but the color designation on the bottom of the product reads "Green corrects redness," and the stick is literally green.

go forth now, and cover up the evidence of last night's activities!