{Originally Published on Secret Agent Mama}

Oh fiery colors, how short your stay,
Merrily tantalizing my sense of sight.
Against the blue sky, as if to blaze the way,
Towards the promise of a new day, bright.

It is in autumn that I reflect the most,
The end of the year spinning my mind around.
Like the trees that wait again to host,
My thoughts pause to absorb the sound.

Through the standstill, I look forward and back,
Considering past, dreams turn to a future of hope.
I wonder: Are the trees hopeful while they lack?
Or have they just found a way to cope?

My mind it is filled with worry and doubt.
Though my heart, a hopeful tree, dreams about.

{Originally posted on Fit Bottomed Girls}

The Fit Bottomed Girls are all about enjoying all that life has to offer, and sometimes life offers dessert. And the FBGs love us some dessert—and not just the fat-free type. Unfortunately, over consumption of mouth-watering desserts can get in the way of maintaining a fit bottom, and most of them aren’t exactly easy to make anyway. Have you ever actually tried making a Martha Stewart dessert? I did it once in college, and after a whole day in the kitchen, while staring at a smug photo of Martha with her perfectly frosted lemon cake, I began to feel inadequate in all areas of my life. (If I can’t get this dang cake’s icing smooth, how will I ever find a job, let alone start a solid career?!)

The FBGs are here to help (and hopefully save you from any of the above-mentioned self esteem snafus). We have a recipe that is so easy even the baking-impaired can succeed. And I personally guarantee its deliciousness. The muffins may not win in a taste test with Martha’s desserts, but you can make them in less than 30 minutes and maintain your sanity.

For the Punk-in Muffins (”punk-in” has a double meaning here, acting both as slang for “pumpkin” and as a verb: punk-ing desserts Ashton-Kutcher style), you take a regular box of spice cake mix and mix it with only a 15-oz. can of pumpkin. If you can find a reduced-sugar spice cake mix you get bonus points.

Two important points to remember:

1. Only mix the cake mix and the can of pumpkin together. Do not—and I repeat do not—add eggs, water, oil, etc. The batter will be thick, but it’s right. Girl Scout’s honor.
2. Do not use a can of pumpkin-pie filling. Get the plain, pureed, boring regular can of pumpkin.

Mix the two ingredients together well, and spoon batter equally into 12 regular muffin tins lined with paper or sprayed with non-stick spray. Bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes. Eat and enjoy guilt-free. Each big muffin has about 180 calories, 2 grams of fiber, 2 grams of protein and 4 grams of fat, and is filled multiple grams of pumpkiny spicy goodness.

And if you’re feeling extra adventurous, try the same base recipe with different flavors of cake mix. Lemon cake mix creates a fun, summery orange sherbet flavor, and any type of chocolate cake mix is delicious. You really can’t taste the pumpkin with the chocolate, and it’s super fudgy and moist. I made these last weekend during an intense chocolate craving. You can see the deliciousness!

{Originally posted on P E N S I E V E}

In its 15th and final season, hospital drama ER resurrected the dead: Anthony Edwards reprised his role as Dr. Mark Green last week in a series of flashbacks by Angela Bassett’s character, Cate Banfield.

When ER debuted in the Fall of ‘94, I had an infant and a two-year-old, and I’m sure escaping into TV melodrama was a welcome respite from the “storms” my little ones ravaged. I remember lying on our sofa nursing my son-right side, left side, right side, left-through ER, the news and then late nights with Leno and Letterman.

During the episodes leading up to his death, Dr. Green takes his daughter to Hawaii, to teach her “important” life lessons-how to drive, how to surf…I really don’t recall much else.

Except a last admonishment to her, one that has haunted me in the ensuing years.

“Be generous. Always.”

It struck me as odd, then, that a parent’s dying words would speak to generosity. It was unsettling for some reason; I judged those words as somehow falling short. In my mind, as a believer, I felt like he should have offered some great spiritual insight, something with eternal value, something … more. Of course, I realized it was television after all, and the series had never before offered anything substantively spiritually enlightening; but still, I saw it as missed opportunity.

{Originally published on SmartWomansGuides}

Today I had an interesting and educational experience. One of the great bloggers I follow on Twitter introduced a friend of his to the community. This friend is apparently well-known by many but, unfortunately, not me. But, since I trust the blogger who recommended him, I went to go check out the newbie’s profile. But I was foiled - the newbie didn’t have a profile! Gasp!

In an effort at brevity, I joked that the newbie’s Twitter profile was a little slim - no website link, no bio, nada. Just his name and a picture (which was a nice picture, admittedly). Frankly, I didn’t want to have to google the newbie to find out about him. Maybe I’m too focused on instant gratification, but well, fair enough, maybe I am. The web is all about instant info and ease and convenience and I’ve bought in.

One of my other Twitter buds messaged that this newbie was already so well known that he didn’t need to create a profile to get followers and he was busy. Wow. Not only did I still not know about this newbie (who now I wanted to know about even more, since he’s so busy and great) but now I felt like an outside, the only one left in the world to not know who he was just on his name and picture. The big capital “L” for loser felt squarely tattooed to my forehead.

After a moment of being stunned, the conversation got me thinking - are you ever so big that you don’t have to introduce yourself? You can guess my answer - a resounding NO.

Being focused on beginners, I try to be aware of the idea that there are people who aren’t living in my personal world, who don’t live in my bubble of experience. Like meeting people who’ve never heard of Twitter, or who have never purchased anything online, or don’t know what RSS is, it’s easy to think that maybe they’ve just been living under a rock. That’s not very kind or compassionate and it’s a bit foolish from a marketing point of view. It gives the impression that you don’t care.

{Originally posted on Schmutzie.com}

Over one year later, I am still discovering the shape of my grief over the loss of my uterus.

I miss a thing I could never see. I have no documentation of its existence. It does not show up in family photo albums. My clothing fits as it did before the surgery. I never touched it with my hands. I cannot trace its outlines in pictures or where it is no longer on my body.

The only evidence that it was ever here is a pregnancy test that I keep pushing to the back of the bathroom cupboard behind the cleaning supplies.

I do not like that it was cut up into tiny pieces and vacuumed out of me. I do not like that it became medical waste. No part of any body should be made into medical waste. Our bodies hold far too much power, far too much meaning, to be so degraded.

I am angry that I could not take it with me, that I could not find my own place to put to it to rest. I hate not knowing where its pieces are. I imagine it having its own sapling beneath which it could rest and feed its growth. I need to imagine it being less alone.

The shape of this grief is little more than a chronological line between two points, from there to here. It has yet find its flesh.

{Originally published by George Kock on Dr. J and Mr. K}

The National Post marked the passing of the giant of human freedom, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, with some excellent commentary, especially this column by Robert Fulford.

But on Sunday evening, when news first came on the CTV of Solzhenitsyn’s death, I said to Mrs. K.: “Bet they get through the whole thing without uttering the word ‘Communism’.” And they did!

The anchor and reporter of course performed the obligatory scolding of “Stalinism” – even as they discussed all the suffering Solzhenitsyn endured in the…60s and 70s.

The news article alongside Fulford’s Tuesday column also mentioned Stalin several times…but never Communism in general. What’s up with that?

If it was all about Stalin, why was Solzhenitsyn such a threat to the Soviet state two decades after the monster’s death? His life is eloquent testimony that there was no such discontinuity in the minds of the perpetrators.

Solzhenitsyn himself travelled on a lengthy intellectual journey – one that would involve untold suffering and superhuman courage – from laying his life on the line for the Soviet Union, to opposing what he initially saw as the “excesses” of Stalin, to the realization that the camps were intrinsic to totalitarianism, that Communism required them, and that Communism itself was utterly destructive of humanity.

Solzhenitsyn learned this lesson on behalf of all humanity. So why have so many of today’s journalists and politicians unlearnt it?

Here’s what Leonid Brezhnev, Soviet top autocrat in the 70s, had to say about Solzhenitsyn (as cited in the Fulford column):

By law, we have every basis for putting him in jail. He has tried to undermine all we
hold sacred: Lenin, the Soviet system, Soviet power – everything dear to us.

If you’re going to trust a Commie thug (albeit one with an eye for Western dollybirds, as the infamous shot of Brezhnev leering at Jill Ireland or Jill St. John attests) on any subject, it’s this one: the brutalities of the predecessors were no outlier, no aberration. They were central: “dear to us.” Who could say it better?

Brezhnev showed a candour over what Solzhenitsyn represented, and of the regime’s continuity with Stalin, that’s lacking in today’s leftists and journalists.

{Originally published on Writing My Wrongs}

“Serendipity: to make discoveries, by accident and sagacity, of things not in quest of.” - Wikipedia.org

It’s been two days, and I am still shaking. I still cannot catch my breath. I still feel dizzy and disoriented. I feel drained. Depleted of all my energy.

Ever been in a car accident and end up okay, but also end up shaking and traumatized for a few days? I feel like that.

My breathing becomes more rapid and shallow, and my eyes well with tears just recollecting the events that transpired this past Sunday.

Yes. I visited the amazing powerful Claud. Claud and I met at a diner in the same town that my daughter goes to school in. Of course I knew this. Of course I let her know. Since we have not met face-to-face and only correspond via email, I felt it terribly important to let her know this. Why? Well, I was very concerned that if, by any force of any god, we ran into each other she might think I had become some crazy stalker. I am a bit crazy but I am not a stalker.

My daughter made it clear when we first reunited that she did not want to meet YET. I have not pushed. I have developed the relationship slowly, followed her lead and let things flow as they may. That being said, I won’t deny that I am anxious to meet her. Anxious to sit with her and share coffee, talk books, look at her beautiful face, hear the sound of her voice, listen to her laugh. To touch her again. To be back in the same room with a piece of my soul that left me 20 years ago.

I told her of my visit via email. She did not respond. That was okay. I felt I had done my duty of “warning” her.

Saturday morning I happen to check her away message on AIM. It says “parents”. This confuses me. Was she home for the weekend? Was she sick? Did something happen? On a whim, I check her school academic calendar. I learn that the weekend I will be in town is parents weekend. Her aparents will be there the same time I will. We will all be breathing the same air.

I get nervous. I rethink my plans with Claud. I decide against canceling. I realize I am being foolish. I cannot plan my life around where she is at any given time. I cannot avoid that part of the state simply because she is there.

So, I go. I drive 70 miles to visit Claud. As I enter the town we are meeting in, I cross over a street named Michael Avenue (name changed for privacy). I gasp for air. Its like a tidal wave hits me. I shake. For the past year I have been mailing letters and packages to my daughter’s school on Michael Avenue. I felt like crossing that street was like going over a threshold, opening a gate, passing into some sacred space. Her space.

{Originally published on SUSIEJ}

At my annual check-up this week, my doctor pulled out that little stick, drew the blood like a vampire and certified that I am low in iron levels; a major contributor for my exhaustion. So, together, we worked out a plan of foods, herbs and supplements she approved of, to help me feel energized and happy.

So far, I’ve emailed portions of this list to many friends, other tired women who say the same thing, “I’ll do anything to feel better.” And they mean it.

We’re sick and tired of walking around exhausted, while our kids are running circles around us. So here, is the list, hammered out with the help of my doctor, to bring my energy levels back up to normal. My favorite? The greens… instant energy in a powder. Another benefit — it makes me feel full, so I end up eating less. Enjoy!

1. Herbal Teas: Anemia (low-iron levels in the blood) is common among women, with side affects of fatigue. Your doctor can preform a blood test to find out if you have this or not. If you learn that you are low in iron, one safe way to restore your iron levels — and energy — is through teas made from the following roots; now widely available at whole foods. These herbs are the roots of yellow dock, burdock, dandelion, and Chinese wild yam. Gather a teaspoon of any or all of these dried herbs, and pour boiling water on top, cover and let steep overnight. Strain and drink.
2. Greens: Sometimes, the last thing we need is another supplement; what we really need is healthy nutrition. None of us eat enough greens, yet their full of vital minerals and vitamins. Greens Plus, is a powder that you mix with water or juice, and it provides you with the benefits of greens in one drink. Don’t even bother with the chocolate-flavored powder- it’s horrible. Berry is a much better alternative; but don’t get me wrong, the stuff is not going to be one of your most favorite-tasting beverages; but like most Moms I’ve talked to have said, “I’ll drink anything to feel better.”
3. Carrots: Carrot juice also assimilates iron quickly in your blood stream. Carrot soup, or a vegetable-based soup of carrot and beets, will increase your iron levels naturally.
4. Watch the Tea: Black tea, my favorite bevereage, unfortunately does slow down the absorption of iron. So monitor your intake. So, instead of making yourself another cup of tea in the afternoon, make your self a drink of greens plus.

Originally published on Lightening Online.

We recently received notification from our electricity supplier that charges are about to increase. No surprises there. The cost of living is really putting the squeeze on the average household. BUT, we are not powerless (hee, hee - excuse the pun). Now more than ever is a great time to work hard on reducing our usage so that we can reduce the overall impact on such increases.

1. Build Healthy Habits

One of the biggest wastages of power is the habit of not turning things off when not in use. Cultivate the habit of turning out lights when you leave a room and turning off appliance (if you can reach the power point) when not in use.

Image via Wikimedia/Copyright © 2005 David Monniaux

2. Make Use of What Nature Has to Offer

In winter you want to open up the curtains (window coverings) on a sunny day and make sure you close them again BEFORE the sun goes down to trap warmth inside and not allow the night chill to enter the house through the glass.

In summer, it’s more important to keep the sun OUT during the day and open up the house at night to take advantage of the cooler night air.

{Originally published on Foolery.}

The ability to put a child down to sleep for the night is one of the most important skills one can attain as a parent or babysitter. It is also the most elusive one.

Let’s start with bathroom stuff. First up: go to the bathroom. No, not you, though with the amount of time this operation will take, you may want to consider it first.

Get the child to go potty. Plan to run water in the sink for the child to spur her imagination — at least enough water to wash a Suburban with. Don’t be at all surprised if child announces a secondary plan, for which more time and toilet paper will be necessary.

After the toilet is flushed, the child will attempt to escape, but you must INSIST that the child first wash her hands. This usually involves at least as much water as you ran to make her tinkle, and about a quarter of that will end up on the counter and floor.

Before the child can run away, grab her by the waist and say, “Time to brush your teeth!” as brightly yet firmly as you are able with a squirmy, uncooperative and toothbrush-hating child in your grasp. You must let go long enough to uncap the toothpaste. After you’ve experienced once or twice chasing your child through the house while forgetting you have uncapped toothpaste in hand, you’ll be smarter and have the toothbrush loaded and ready to go while she’s washing her hands. This works even better once she has become territorial about the toothpaste, insisting upon doing the squeezing herself. (Don’t sweat the mess; you have to mop up after the hand-washing anyway.)

I like to allow the child to brush her own teeth, emphasizing “Don’t swallow the toothpaste — spit it!” about every five seconds. Plan to be spat upon. It also helps to pick a funny little tune to la-la while you brush her teeth: a personal favorite is the theme music to the old Benny Hill show, Yakkety Sax. This will not be your child’s favorite, however.