WHAT "Tiger Blood"???

I'm on Day 19 of Whole30, and supposedly, Days 17-ish to 20-ish are when you feel "energetic, ready to tackle the world, and have Tiger Blood."

Well. 

Not so much. 

I mean, I'm feeling like I'm going backward. I know part of my problem is portion control, as well as knowing that I have a problem with sweets. But I'm not feeling the light, feeling the better sleep, and feeling that ZIP that we're supposed to feel. 

But then there's the asterisk.... *your results may be different*... So I think I may have to do another round, lighten up on the portions (particularly of meat and fat, and have fruit only occasionally) and see if I can drop more pounds. I also think that taking another round will push the sweet tooth farther in the background. 


The meal planning has been good for me. And lucky for me, I'm not easily bored, so I'm kind of in a "the usual" for breakfast, and I'm not tired of eggs. Yet. 

I bought 4 large portobella mushroom caps, and roasted them. So dinner the other night was a mushroom cap with cauliflower rice + spinach, some cherry tomatoes and bacon. 

There's a question, maybe, on whether it's portobella or portabello... Either way: big, meaty mushrooms. 

Roasting was the easiest thing: just rinse them off, rub the top with a little olive oil, and place on a roasting pan, gill side up. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast at 400 degrees for 10 minutes, then flip them over and roast for another 5 minutes. 

They'll keep for about a week, and I'm kind of moving through ways to jazz them up and eat them. 

Breakfast today was 2 eggs, mushroom, and my usual salsa and avocado. 

I left the yolks a little more runny - more a matter of timing than anything. Sometimes, I misjudge and it's not as cream and "yolk-y" as I'd like. 

The thing is the texture. The texture of the yolk contrasts with the salsa. And then there's the creaminess of the avocado. All with the undercurrent of the meaty mushroom base and it's got protein, appropriate fat, the veg and the hot/cold buzz to the tastebuds. 

I'd encourage you to give it a try. 

Dinner tonight was courtesy of Hubby, as I had a class to teach. Pork loin, sweet potato hash and broccoli. I added a mayo dip to it (there's got to be what's called "plated fat" in the meal), and then I had a banana. I hadn't had fruit all day, so I figured that would be ok. 

Tomorrow, I'm likely to revisit that breakfast, have a salad for lunch and then something will present itself for dinner. It's been another weekend where it's all gone woooooooooosh and I'm not sure that I'm ready for it to be Sunday tomorrow!

Zonta Club...

So I'm a member of our local Zonta Club. It's an organization concerned with advancing the status of women. We do service projects around the town, and today we were cleaning up the gardens at the Joliet Hospice. I got to prune a tree... and then we plucked the "reeds" out of the spent lilies so that they can re-flower this spring. 

We spent two hours doing the work. Bending over. I ended up teaching my "crew member" (dwindled from 4 of us to 2 of us as the others got assigned to other spots) how to properly bend, because she was complaining about her back. 

The person coordinating the clean-up was very grateful, it was just cool enough and just cloudy enough to make it bearable, and yes, that's my jacket hanging off the tree. It's not the tree I pruned, but after wrestling with the one I had to trim, I was warm!

And now I'm sore!! I've been having trouble with my hip, and even though I was practicing proper technique, I've got a sore rear end!

But the gardens are gorgeous.

After we were done, I meandered down to the creek that borders the one edge of the hospice's property. 

You can see how tranquil it would be for a stroll or just to look out the windows. It's a beautiful property. 

Meeting with friends...

The other day, I met with a friend of mine. She's recently retired and it had been a while - since the Women's March in January - that we'd been able to spend time with each other. 

We had a great time, but before that, I was running early, so I drove through our local park. It's being rehabbed, and wowza - the roads are lovely, and the signage is all fixed up. 

So as I was traveling through the park, I stopped dead when I saw this little guy... Well, I'm not sure whether it's a guy or a gal. But the man who's parked outside the frame says that "it" comes out about lunchtime every day, and he shares his lunch with it. 

I'm not sure how I feel about feeding the wildlife. But it looks like the creature was foraging in the garbage anyway. 

It was great to see my friend. We got to vent to each other about the "stuff" we needed to release, and we made tentative plans to meet up to shop - she's got a kid getting married, and needs to work with a Mother of the Groom dress. 

I don't do that often. I know it sounds cliche, but my schedule is pretty tightly regimented, and if something's thrown off, then the whole thing goes kabloooey. 

I find, though, that I need to get together with friends. I need to sometimes not be in charge of stuff. I'm finding that I need those relationships to keep me on an even keel. 

All work and no play makes me cranky. 

Random Picture...

When I got home from the garden jaunt, I had to prep for the class I was teaching - it was a "Ditch & Switch" class for Young Living Essential Oils and I was working on handouts and the stuff you prep for being able to present. 

Anyway, this is what greeted me when I came home. She actually sat there, didn't move, didn't woof, didn't whine. 

Sat there. While I walked in, dropped my stuff off, went to pet the elkhounds, went to the bathroom, and THEN...

When I sat down in front of my computer, she decided to waddle herself off the couch to say hello. 

She continues to amaze me with her personality. She's aloof, but cuddly. She wants to be petted, and yet she'll walk away. 

Can't quite figure her out some days. Some days, she's a "mama's dog" and some days, I don't exist. 

Which is fine with me. We all have our days. Even our dog days. 

Reconnected...

I had a nearly-hour-long conversation with my friend "N" yesterday. 

I hadn't spoken to her in almost a year (I mean in person or on the phone). She had this job. It was a soul-sucking, time-consuming, all-encompassing job. Such that just about every month, she traveled 50% of the time. And when she was in town, she worked 14-hour days.

Which isn't remarkable as such, since so many people do that today - just to keep employed. 

But what she did was remarkable. She quit. She resigned after dealing with an entirely toxic department, a supervisor who shoveled crap on top of her and then chastised her repeatedly for "not performing to expectations" under conditions which can be considered "hostile" to say the least. After giving directions to an assistant who wouldn't do her job, and then being told that she was being given a "job improvement notice" because she couldn't manage. After writing up the assistant and the assistant complaining to HR about her. I just shake my head at that kind of garbage. 

And she did it the right way. She submitted a resignation note, cleaned out her office without fanfare and left. 

It takes guts to do that. She told me about it while I was in the midst of a therapy visit with Tippi, so I had to wait to call her back. And then during our conversation, she said something which made me stop. "You were the first one I thought about. And I knew that, unlike so many people, you wouldn't have tried to talk me out of walking out."

She's right. I have left soul-sucking jobs. I have done the "travel every month" thing, while trying to raise 2 kids. I would have helped her draft her resignation note. 

We discussed what she wanted to do, what her immediate goals were, and yes, we made plans to get together soon. 

I had missed her. We e-mailed; I tried to network to find her a new place; but she was always on a plane. She was unable to sustain friendships, was having trouble with stress, and was missing out on so much of her family life. 

Was quitting the best response? She's lucky enough to be able to do it. And yes, for her, it was the absolute right thing to do. Yes, the economy is still recovering. And yes, she's at the top of her field and will likely not find another job like that. Which may be a good thing. She's being tagged by the corporate world as "too expensive" -- they can hire 25-year-olds for about 1/3 of her salary. 

And she's ok with that. I have been in her shoes and I have been lucky enough to be able to shed a job that wasn't doing me any good. I look forward to seeing N accomplish her goals: to be a present parent; to concentrate on HERSELF; to learn to knit. Those are things that will matter. Not the job. 

The Turkey...

Lola

So I wrote a check for the turkey yesterday. And about had a heart attack -- this bird had better be good!! Three Maples Farm is a lovely spot; we got to pet the horses and cows. This is Lola. She likes peppermint candies and is shy. 

Hubby about had a fit, too, with the price of Mr. Turkey. But we agreed (sort of) to try something more organic. So we shall see. Right now, Mr. Turkey is in the fridge at work. It'll take him 5 days to thaw, so while I'm at work Saturday (we're having our Thanksgiving early, remember), Hubby will come by and get him. If needed, he'll be getting a cool-water thaw. 

Lola will eventually be hamburger. The woman who runs the farm was telling us that she's been involving her kids in the farm. They understand about "raising what you eat" and the concept of attachment. All her animals have names, and all of them, for the most part, end up on a table somewhere. So the next time we go there, it may very well be that Lola's in the freezer. But if you want to make sure your food is not injected with garbage or fed GMO grain, you go to a local farmer. And you ask. 

The dogs, of course, had a sniff-fest when I came home. They recognized "horse" since I have come home smelling like that. But "cow" was entirely different. They loved it. It's a shame I didn't get to pet the goats or the pig... Three Maples also sells hand-made goat's milk soap. That's on my agenda for gifts. Support the local farmer. 

Various papers

The Storms...

The Shorewood Police Department is acting as a collection spot for storm debris blown up north-east by the horrible storms. Here are some pics of what Hubby collected. He and the dogs were written up in the Chicago Tribune. The Facebook pages coordinating the storm damage "let's return their stuff" efforts are very busy, and I'm so glad social media is working for something good instead of "this is what I ate for dinner" trivialities. 

Some storm debris

Imagine, if you will, losing everything. And then potentially having your identity stolen. Seriously - Hubby found checks, bank statements, a car title, school transcripts, an adoption order. This is tremendously sensitive stuff. If you're in the area of the tornado damage and you have found stuff, please pick it up and bring it to the local police department -- you could be saving someone a lot of heartache. Along with the good folks who pitch in to help - there are also scummy people who'd steal an identity in a heartbeat. 

Sorry about the sideways shots. You get the idea...

Knittting...

The sock comes along. I did nothing on the afghan yesterday. It seems like between the turkey and the Tuesdays with Tippi, I was running all day. 

Migraine News...

Well, I'm having a few more migraines. I'm sure it's because "things are changing." My mom said it gets worse just before you stop having them.

On a good note, though, I just read about a "home remedy" for migraines: the self-induced brain-freeze. In the Chicago Trib's "Health" section, there's a column about various medicines/medical issues. This doctor wrote in, saying that he (or she) suffered from migraines and was caught short without the prescription meds.

So his (or her) friend had him sip ice water and then "gobble down" a bowl of chocolate ice cream. The resulting "brain-freeze" stopped the migraine in its tracks. 

Wow... and I bet there was no Rx hangover!! Hubby said, "Well, I guess I go get some chocolate ice cream!" I can get behind that. My health insurance recently switched me to the generic of my migraine Rx. And it works, but the "hangover" is more significant than with the brand-name. But I won't be able to appeal it on that basis. The basic fact is -- the generic works in this instance, so I'm stuck with it. And the day-long "fuzz" I have afterwards. But at least it stops the migraine. 

However, that "chocolate ice cream" thing...it's tempting!

Dr. Who...

Yay!!! I found a YouTube channel that will simulcast the premier of the Dr. Who 50th Anniversary episode. I have to work. I want to see it. In case you're interested, it's going to be simulcast at www.youtube.com/bbcamerica -- I can't wait. 

I'm a come-lately Whovian. A novice, if you will. My first Doctor was Christopher Eccleston. I've been on a Dr. Who gorge ever since BBC has had their "takeover week" this week. 

I seriously want to knit a Dr. Who scarf. In all the specials, that Doctor said that the director at that time gave "a batch of wool" to a lady and said he wanted a scarf. The woman (I can't remember her name) was given no further direction, so she knit all the wool. That's how that 12-foot scarf came to be. I know - I'm what? 5' 4" if that... a 12-foot scarf knit entirely in garter is crazy-talk. But I want one. What can I say??

Christmas...

I'm done shopping. Sorry - I do a lot online and I am usually early. Well, I have one more thing to get: a chain for Kid #1's girlfriend. I'm giving her an amber charm, and I want to have a chain for it. 

We still have no idea of when we'll actually do the Christmas Eve dinner. It's too early to figure that out yet. I know I'll be doing Midnight Mass and we still have to figure out how to wire my guitar. 

Just about all the online stuff has come in. Hubby teased that he'd "already wrapped" my presents. I will be doing that this weekend; just because once I finish the afghan, I can reclaim my dining room table and we can put up our small tree.

We will probably use the big tree again once our canary goes to Canary Heaven. Right now, his table is in front of the picture window, and our room is small. I have no place to put a big tree - that the dogs won't knock over! I haven't gotten presents for the dogs. I did get Larry the grand-cat a couple of gifts. I figure since I'm baking, it's easy to just bake them some treats, and I wouldn't put those under the tree anyway. 

Politics...

What's wrong with this picture? First, the Bishop in Springfield, IL holds an "exorcism" for Governor Pat Quinn because Quinn's signing a gay marriage bill. Now, this: a Methodist pastor has 30 days to renounce his own gay children. Renounce. His. Own. Children. Classy, right? Just click on the word "renounce" here and see what he says. I admire his stance. 

Gay marriage is not a threat to society. Just like interracial marriage didn't collapse the whole universe. If you don't like gay marriage, don't marry someone of your own sex. Is that a "simple" answer? Well yeah. Because nobody's forcing you to do that. So don't. 

We need to solve unemployment. We need to solve the poverty gap in our country. We are simultaneously the richest and poorest country in the industrialized world. Shame on us. Education needs help (not reform necessarily and certainly not reform by CORPORATIONS because kids aren't widgets). We need to dismantle the "too big to fail" banks back to their original sizes.

And all you want to carp about is gay marriage? Get a grip.

Also, happy birthday to Vice President Joe Biden!! 

Random Picture...

Shades of Blue by Sonda

Digging back in the picture archives. This is a hank of my friend Sonda's hand-dyed yarn. I made a hat out of this. I still have some left. I will probably do something with it, but I'm not sure what. I did also use some to make a bag for my mala beads, but I have at least 100 yards left. 

Sonda started dying her own yarns and then she got sick. I'm not saying that the two are connected. It was just horrible circumstance that she had a malignant melanoma. And they didn't find it till it reached her brain and her lungs; she died at age 55 and I still have trouble believing she's gone. She was a talented knitter and designer, having patterns in several "One Skein" books published. My knitting friend D and I had purchased this yarn, and we gave full hanks back to Sonda's mom. She's using it to knit shawls for Sonda's nieces for Christmas. I had that yellow - it was a tangled mess, and I took it home and spent a weekend unwinding it. I gave it back to her - and it's where it should be. 

I don't have enough of the blue to make an impact so I'm keeping that. 

Time to dive back into the real world. I need a stretch break. 

Perhaps a Reboot?

I'm not looking to be the Yarn Harlot. Not even the Pioneer Woman. I'm just looking to exercise my writing chops, perhaps inject a little humor into someone's day, and natter on (and on and on...) about things I like, such as my dog, knitting, etc.

So I'm thinking of a reboot of sorts. Some sort of structure to The Blog. I think I tried this a while ago and it failed somewhat spectacularly when I just didn't blog for months on end...But I have been looking at what other folks are doing, and I like bits and pieces. And I prefer to adapt things to my own way of doing them. Who doesn't, right?

So I was thinking that perhaps each post should have ONE THING about knitting. Or maybe one specific day could be my "Randomly" day. I feel like I need to talk more about reading. It's seeming to me that this is generally a "knitting blog" which is fine but when you use The Google, you see about 20,500,000 entries for the term "knitting blog." Seriously. I just did it. 

But I'm not going to do that now. I'll probably start next week. I like the idea of "starting at the beginning" and technically, this being Saturday, it's the "end" of my workweek. So we shall see how this shakes out next week. I'm still committed to not losing sight of the blog. Maybe not a daily entry, but at least 3 times per week. 

Heart...

As expected, nothing showed up on the 24-hour monitor. And because we have The Big Trip coming up, the doc didn't want to do a 30-day monitor. That would no doubt cause a crap-load of trouble with the TSA and its foreign equivalents. "No, seriously, here's a note from my doctor. It's a HEART MONITOR." 

When we get back, I'm to have an ultrasound for some reason: mostly so my doc can make sure things are doing what they're supposed to do.

In the meantime, he says, basically, mazel tov - have a wonderful trip. To my question about a tandem parasailing adventure, he said, "Even if you keeled over, it's not life-threatening, and there's a doctor in Bordeaux who's done more atrial ablations than anyone else. Ever. He's fantastic." 

Thanks, doc. So there's no problem with me strapping myself to a parasailing expert and flinging myself off a minor Alp, gliding along at thermals approximately 10,000 feet up. Gulp. 

Here's a video of what we're thinking of. Problem is, Hubby wants to do one at a higher elevation (go for it, dear - you've got excellent life insurance coverage), but he's thinking of us doing them on the same day. My idea was the lower elevation, mainly because I'm not all that physically fit lately, and I don't want to climb up the mountain! Which is a problem for 2 reasons: First, we end up in two totally different cities, and I'm not planning on taking my cell phone. I don't speak French. Second, we're only bringing the one camera and the GoPro. We can't both be using them at the same time. So we're still negotiating that. We'll be in that area for 2 days, so my thought was one each day. 

Dear Mother Nature...

Of course, leading up to the trip, I'm having "periodic visits" after being a long while without. So, Dear Mother Nature: Could you please just shut off and STAY OFF? While I will, with great regret, miss your monthly (sometimes MULTIPLE times a month) visits, I will try my utmost to adapt. What? You caught that great steaming pile of snark there? Sorry about that. I'll try to be more sincere. 

Please, please, PLEASE don't make me haul a ton of "sanitaries" in my luggage. I just would rather you confine your visits to -- well -- to NO visits, thanks. I'm 55. When does this shut off? Thanks, but I no longer wish to be a hormonal over-achiever. 

Knitting...

So I do have most of the stash photographed (including the new stuff) and then yesterday, Doris hauled off and handed me some more. What? Say no? Who are we kidding here? I have some lovely bright red cotton - a sweater's worth, if not a little more, and some fantasy yarn that I have no idea what to do with. I will get them photographed before the Obligatory Birthday Party Appearance and up on Ravelry. Perhaps Ravelers will have an idea; they usually do!

Along with that my friend Joan is doing a project which will require Sonda's Hand-Dyed. As you know, my friend Sonda is no longer with us, and Joan is her mom. Her project is to knit something for each of the kids/grandkids from what remains of Sonda's Hand-Dyed. Doris gave her some purple and I have the yellow/orange in stash. So I'll go rooting today or tomorrow to see what I can find - I think it's a good thing and even though I had something planned for my last hank, this is a better place for it. I'll adjust and grab another Lorna's Laces or something for the shawl I was planning. 

Obligatory Birthday Party Appearance...

So I have a friend that I've known for nigh onto 45-ish years. We used to be close. Then we drifted. Then we rebooted. Now, it seems that we're re-drifting. Her daughter produced a grandchild, which is fine, even though I have fairly strong (surprisingly conservative) views on this. Actually, let me explain. I have no problem with single mothers. Stuff happens. I do have a problem if, when you're of an age to actually support yourself and perhaps the child you produce, you summarily decide that your mother can raise the kid. And I have a truly large problem with said mother, after herself having a mini-stroke, saying to me, "Oh, they're living here rent-free, she's not working, we're paying for the lawyer for the daddy to pay support, and yeah, we babysit a lot because, you know, Sally needs her social and recreation time." 

No. She doesn't. OK, every parent, to the best of their ability, needs a break. But dumping the kid on your mom every single weekend isn't a break. It's obnoxiously annoying and depriving your mother of a life of her own. 

Now, perhaps the friend LIKES this. She's (in my opinion) lived vicariously through her kids ever since they've been born, cloaking it in "being an involved mother." And perhaps I'm looking at it from my own standpoint of "the kid (daughter) is nearly 30 and maybe she needed to take responsibility BEFORE there was a baby." Or maybe, as my kids have told me, I'm looking at it from the lens of how I raised them: "I will do my utmost to support you in whatever you choose, but I raised you, and barring a medical issue, I'm not planning to raise your kids." Yep. That's what I told my kids. And no, my kids don't hate me for saying that. They kinda like the clear communication. 

Anyway, the OBPA is because I'm really seriously thinking of terminating the friendship - for a number of reasons, including the fact that she doesn't call till she needs something from me, and when I call, there are vague "Oh yeah, we need to get together sometime" mutterings. But there's no time or effort in this friendship anymore. 

The OBPA is for the grandbaby. Every year. I'm the geeky one who brings books. No electronics and no toys. Books have an on/off switch. And they have bright colors and pictures. And I love books. So there. 

In truth, one part of me is sad about how this relationship has devolved, but the other part is actually kind of relieved. It's too much work to resuscitate something that's not willing to breathe on its own. We have, over the past few years, only been able to get together at Christmas Eve - an open house at her place. We used to get together for walks in the neighborhood (hers or mine), shopping jaunts, lunch on each one's birthday. The annual girls' weekend away. Random but regular phone calls. Each one of us initiated these things more or less equally. The work of the friendship was shared. 

Yes, I know, friendships change. But I'm of two minds here. This person has known me longer than anyone else except my immediate family. But I really don't want a 90/10 friendship. It would be different if it was a fluctuating division: you all know there are situations where every friendship waxes and wanes. Times when YOU feel like you're carrying the load and then other times when you NEED to be carried. 

But this is just so much less. At one point, we were communicating through e-mail, but "I can't do that anymore because Georgie is always with us and he likes to pound on the keyboard when I'm at the computer." Notwithstanding the fact that the kid needs to learn how and when he can "pound on a keyboard" --- there's the issue of when it's ok for you to have an adult friendship of your own. She has a habit of whining that she's got no friends.

Well, it happens when you don't participate. And I don't know what to do with this. I guess we'll have to see what develops today. There were, to paraphrase Simon & Garfunkel "mumbled such-are promises" of getting together prior to this party, but nothing happened except a short text exchange. That's not a friendship. That's an energy-sucking relationship.

Soooooooooooo.... We shall see, I guess.  

New Prince George...

Congratulations to Will & Kate. Now, can we please learn some basic biology? The female (yes, FEMALE) British correspondents were announcing breathlessly that Kate was "FABULOUS" for birthing a boy. 

This is, I believe, 2013, though some of our more regressive conservative politicians would have us believe that it's actually 1813 as far as women go. But I digress.

Biology 101, courtesy of Sister Faith at my high school: The MALE determines the gender of the fetus. 

Just pointing that out. Now you may resume gazing at the adorable baby pics. And please stop bashing Kate because she "hasn't lost the baby bump." Good God... She's all of 105 pounds and delivered an 8 pound+ baby. It took 9 months to grow that bump. Leave her alone.