Category Archives: Personal

10% Ethanol Added To Your Gas – Lovely!

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Have you noticed whether your gas station is putting ethanol in their gas? Have you noticed that your gas mileage has decreased?

I get my gas at a Shell station and right there on the front of the pump is a sticker that says, Contains 10% Ethanol. My gas consumption has been rising by leaps and bounds lately, but I’m not driving any more than usual. Actually, because of the gas prices, I’m more selective about where I go and how I get there.

While I was pumping, I looked up at the sign to see if the price had come down since my gas was now being spiked with ethanol. What a joke! What made me think a gas company would dream of giving the consumer a break.

It appears I’m not the only person that’s miffed. Here’s an excerpt from Slow Food Waltz

Ethanol, isn’t it’s use supposed to lower gas prices? Huh??

Help me out someone, what am I missing here. I just noticed this Shell gas station uses 10 percent ethanol, but the gas prices are exactly the same as they are at other places. Will ethanol ever translate to a cost savings for the consumer??

Okay, so the price hasn’t come down. It’s still up there at $3.90 a gallon in my neck of the woods. To top that off, I recently purchased a fuel economy car, but now I’m getting less gas mileage. That’s a fact and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. See information from Punny Money.

It lowers fuel economy. That 10% ethanol being mixed into your gasoline might be helping to keep it 10 cents a gallon cheaper, but you’re probably getting 10-30% fewer miles per gallon because of it. Since all the gas stations around here switched to a 10% ethanol blend, my gas mileage has dropped by about 15%!

What is going on? I understand it’s imperative that we cultivate some type of alternative fuel, but why am I suffering while the gas companies are reporting record-breaking profits? Oh yeah, I forgot–I don’t have a lobbyist. Drat!

So, it appears that you and I will be at the pumps more often, paying the same ridiculous prices. And I don’t expect to hear too much squawking from anyone because the change is couched in “alternative fuel” rhetoric. I suppose the media will somehow find a way to make it sound unpatriotic if anyone speaks out against it, too. What a racket!

Following my Chinese Zodiac articles? Year Of The Sheep – Year of the Monkey

Patience And Perseverance

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I’ve been recuperating from surgery and, believe me, it takes a lot of perseverance. I long to be 100% better, but recovery comes in small doses. It’s so gradual I can hardly recognize any change from day to day. I wish I could manufacture a little more patience. I admit I’m not known for a high patience quotient. I got to wondering how other people manage to persevere.

Look at this. It came from a blog written by William Biddle

Abraham Lincoln’s perseverance

1816, He had to work to support his family after they were forced out of their home.
1818, His mother died.
1831, Failed in business.
1832, Was defeated for legislature.
1832, Lost his job and couldn’t get into law school.
1833, Declared bankruptcy & spent the next 17 years of his life paying off the money he borrowed from friends to start his business.
1834, Was defeated for legislature again.
1835, Was engaged to be married, but his sweetheart died and his heart was broken.
1836, Had a nervous breakdown and spent the next six months in bed.
1838, Was defeated in becoming the speaker of the state legislature.
1840, Was defeated in becoming elector.
1843, Was defeated for Congress
1846, Was Defeated For Congress.
1848, Was defeated for Congress again.
1849, Was rejected for the job of land officer in his home state.
1854, Was defeated for Senate.
1856, Was defeated for Vice-President — got less than 100 votes.
1858, Was defeated for Senate for the third time.
1860, Was elected president of the United States.

Then there’s Louis Pasteur. He said, “Let me tell you the secret that has led me to my goal. My strength lies solely in my tenacity.”

So, alright. I guess I’ll try to persevere. Here’s one more example of perseverance. I know you’ll enjoy this one.

A small boy is sent to bed by his father. Five minutes later, he calls, “Da-aad.”
“What?”
“I’m thirsty. Can I have a drink of water?”
“No.”
Five minutes later, he calls again. “Da-aaaad.”
“What?”
“I’m thirsty.”
“I told you, no water. If you ask again, I’ll have to spank you.”
Five minutes later. “Da-aaaaaad. When you come in to spank me, can you bring me a drink of water?”

Well, that’s perseverance for you. It comes in all sizes.

If you are following my Chinese Zodiac articles, here are two more. Year of the Snake and Year of the Horse

Party Lines – The Good Old Days

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When I was a young, precocious, probably not so well-behaved youngster, I often stayed with my grandmother while my mother and father worked. Every chance I got, when my grandmother wasn’t looking, I’d pick up the telephone and listen for voices. Back in the 50’s, most people had party lines, a telephone line that was shared between two or three people. I didn’t know it at the time, but it must have had something to do with the scarcity of phone lines. I loved that party line.

But here’s another point of view from a blog written by Gifford Neill

We could not get a private telephone line as there were not enough phone lines running up to East Hartland. So we had to get a party line, and the only catch was that there was a lady in town there who seemed to spend all her time on our phone line. I was forced to build a little battery operated phone line detector, that monitored wheter the line was busy or not. If it was busy, a red light would remail lit; when the lady hung up, you could hear the relay “click”, and the light would go out. I’d grab the phone quickly then, as that was my chance. This provoked the lady as she liked to make a series of long phone calls one after the other.

Anyway, as much as Mr. Neill hated his party line, I absolutely adored my grandmother’s. Of course, it took me a while to perfect the art of picking up the receiver very slowly so that the two people already using the line would be unable to detect my presence. You had to be careful not to breath into the phone, too, but sometimes the talkers still could sense another person on the line. I didn’t find out until much later that the extra line created a hollow sound, and that’s how I got caught on the line. Needless to say, I got shouted off the phone a lot, but sometimes the women were so involved in their conversation that I went undiscovered. What bliss! Listening to grown-up conversations. It was like stepping into another world.

It was good, that is, until my grandmother caught me. When she saw what I was doing, she’d do this outrageous, crazy dance, her arms flying wildly in the air, which translated into “hang up before I murder you.” If you assume that after I hung up, I received a thorough tongue-lashing from my grandmother, you’d be wrong. Oh, she took a shot at it, but it would go something like this. “I told you never to listen in on other people’s conversations. That’s a very, very bad thing to do. What did you hear?”

Yes, my grandmother was just as anxious to hear the neighborhood gossip as I was. Gosh, I loved that party line. Did you have one?

(For those people who are following the astrology articles I write for LifeScript.com, these are links to the Year of the Tiger, the Year of the Dragon and the Year of the Rabbit)

My Mother

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It’s May, and Mother’s Day is right around the corner. This is the time of year I especially miss my mother. I’ve mentioned several times in this blog that I regret not asking her more questions about herself. But every year when May rolls around, I realize I do actually know a lot about her, if not everything.

For instance, I didn’t know it then, but I see it clearly now in retrospect, she was a feminist before that word even existed. Back in the early 50s, she decided she wanted to learn how to drive a car. There weren’t many women drivers on the road back then. Husbands usually did all the driving, or there was public transportation. That wasn’t good enough for my mother. She hired a driving instructor, passed her driver’s test and acquired a license long before her four sisters. As a matter of fact, she became their main mode of transportation, and even though she urged them to get their own licenses, it was several years before the first one found the courage to do it.

There’s no doubt she was the driving force in our family. She multi-tasked before that ever became a word, too. I guess that’s why I always regret knowing so little about this dynamo who was my mother. When I was a very young child, I thought there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do; I thought she knew just about everything. As a rebellious teenager, I hated that she was right about everything. And as an adult, I marveled at her wisdom.

I remember her facing off with our family doctor. Often, when I was sick with some childhood illness, the doctor would recommend a penicillin shot. At the time, penicillin was considered a miracle drug, but my mother insisted a person might build up an immunity to it. The doctor strongly disagreed, but grudgingly honored her wishes. One day, on the way home after one of these visits, she sympathized with me saying that she knew I felt very, very sick, but on the off chance I might need penicillin to save my life someday, she preferred to nurse me back to health without it. I was young, could hardly understand what she was telling me, but I felt her anxiety. Now I realize how hard it must have been to stick to her guns when all she had in her arsenal to defend herself was sheer conjecture. All I know is, while my friends almost always got a needle at the doctor’s office, I received very few. My mother took a stand at a time when doctors and scientists denied the possibility of resistance. Now we know that–

Antibiotic resistance occurs when bacteria change in some way that reduces or eliminates the effectiveness of drugs, chemicals, or other agents designed to cure or prevent infections. The bacteria survive and continue to multiply causing more harm.

If you wish to read more about how a body can build up a resistance to antibiotics, (information my mother was not privy to at the time) go to About.com: Pediatrics.

Although she could never convince me to eat red beets, she did manage to cajole me into eating carrots. She told me they were good for my eyes. Science has proved her right on that one, too.

And like many other mothers, she believed that chicken soup would make a sick person feel better. And according to the Mayo Clinic, studies show they were correct.

Generations of parents have spooned chicken soup into their sick children. Now scientists have put chicken soup to the test, discovering that it does have effects that might help relieve cold and flu symptoms.

However, when I purchased my first pair of reading glasses, she warned me not to become too dependent upon them because I would end up needing a stronger prescription every time I took an eye exam. Although the last part of her statement has proved correct, I’ve been told my eyes are going through their natural progression. As I age, my eyes age right along with me. So, I guess my mother was wrong on this one, or maybe…science just hasn’t caught up to her, yet.

Do you have a memory about your mother that you would like to share? This is the time and the place.

Hospitals–Do They Help Or Hinder Recuperation?

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For quite some time, I have been putting off cervical neck surgery. Unfortunately, disk degeneration goes on hiatus for no man. Finally, one is forced to accept the truth–it’s time to face the music and have surgery.

Too bad the surgery requires a stay in the hospital afterwards, because things ain’t like they were “in the old days.”

First off, if you don’t have nice, big, juicy veins…beware. Don’t go in the hospital expecting to find a crack-team of phlebotomists, those dearly loved persons who specialize in taking blood. I don’t think they exist anymore. Invariably, as a last resort, someone will have to insert the needle into a vein on your hand, because no one is adept at hitting a vein in your arm. Let me tell you, a needle stuck in the top of your hand is a whole lot more painful then one in your arm.

I’ll refrain from going into my entire bathroom fiasco. Suffice it to say that after the first horrendous trip, I suggested to the nursing assistant that it might be easier for all concerned if she supplied me with a commode next to my bed. Puzzled, she responded, “Oh, you want a commode?” The thought of a commode appeared to be a totally foreign idea to her. I can only assume she preferred yanking all my IV lines as she “helped” me back and forth from the bathroom.

24 hours later, and after at least two assistants heard and saw me cough up thick mucous, I asked one of them for a breathing machine. Again I was greeted with that surprised, kind of blank, look, “Oh, you want a spirometer?” After searching through the cabinet in my room, and finding none, she left, returned with one and handed it to me. It had no sterile wrapping, so I had no idea where it came from, or where it had been.

This is what should’ve happened long before it was necessary for me to ask for the contraption myself.

Your nurse will explain the deep breathing and coughing exercises you will need to do after surgery. These are done to improve lung expansion. This helps prevent infection and other lung complications. You will be shown how to use the incentive spirometer. This is a tool to help you breathe deeply. Coughing is needed when you have secretions in your lungs.

That is the procedure that is recommended at Incentive Spirometry, and has actually happened to me on previous visits I’ve made to a hospital.

About Medications–Prior to entering the hospital, I was told that the hospital would provide all medications that I normally take on a daily basis. The first night, I was offered the wrong blood pressure pill. Believe me when I tell you this, and I can’t stress it enough. Don’t accept any medication until you ask and understand what you are taking. This is by no means an isolated incident. See a post put up by Solid Geekery, a blog written by a group of people who are studying, working in, or are just plain interested in the shoddy treatment being dispensed by hospitals today. This particular post was written by Miranda, who is in her third year of graduate school, pursuing a Ph.D in Immunology and Microbial Pathogenesis.

Getting back to my particular nightmare, the second night, after having my blood pressure checked, a nurse came in and said, “Your blood pressure is normal. Would you like to skip your blood pressure pill tonight?” I was actually struck speechless for a few seconds before I could answer, “My blood pressure is normal because I take my prescribed medicine.”

During my second day in the hospital, I asked the nursing assistant to write her name and the name of my nurse on the board supplied for that purpose at the foot of my bed. She couldn’t. Want to know why? Because someone had used permanent marker on the board, therefore it couldn’t be erased. Think about that for a minute, because it is really scary. Someone, who dispenses medicines and supplies hospital care to patients, used permanent marker on an erasable board.

I’m not one to rant. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I ever have on this blog…ever. However, just for the record, I could write another four or five paragraphs about the oversights and lack of knowledgeable help I received. But I won’t.

QVC, Amazon.com–What Could Be Easier?

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Have you noticed it’s getting easier and easier to spend money?

Last week, I received a tiny booklet in the mail from QVC, which contained my very own personal membership number. To tell you the truth I wasn’t surprised, since a few weeks before I had somehow lost my mind while watching their programming. I bought three sterling silver rings, a bracelet, and some lovely food containers–all in one night.

I’ve purchased products from them in the past. The thing is, I hadn’t fired up my ultimate buying power all in one sitting before. Since I momentarily fell off my rocker that night, I guess QVC thought it would be an excellent idea to send me a membership number. Voila! Now I can buy whatever I want by punching in a few numbers on my phone’s keypad. How’s that for convenience?

Furthermore, I’m such a good customer of Amazon.com, they have bestowed upon me their one-click customer status. I click–they send.

It appears I’m not the only one having a hard time keeping money in my wallet. Maggie the Cat is evidently having the same problem.

Ive been spending money on books when i shouldn’t be spending money at all. I got the wonderful book “Elvgren” by Taschen it is so beautiful.

I suppose my way of thinking is similar to Terra’s over at Questionable Rationale.

As much as spending money sometimes stresses me out, I actually become stress free after a nice long (and sometimes expensive) shopping trip. I think it’s just bills that I hate paying.

Obviously, no matter how you do it, shopping feels good, at least in the moment. I have broken the habit of running to the mall, though. That’s a step in the right direction, right? Now, if I could only stay away from the TV and the laptop. Any suggestions?

Laughter, Laugh, Laughing, Giggle

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Darn it…I missed Belly Laugh Day on January 24th. I bet you did, too. What a pity, because researchers are finding more and more evidence that laughter contains some pretty awesome benefits for our bodies and minds.

There’s a lot of research to prove the claims, but really now, haven’t you always known that laughing makes you feel good? Giggling is at the top of my list of things that overwhelm me with happiness. Making other people laugh and giggle comes in as a close second. Two people laughing is better than one. Three people laughing is a virtual party.

But if you’re intent on knowing “scientifically” why laughter is good for you, here are a few good sources.

University of Maryland School of Medicine

Using laughter-provoking movies to gauge the effect of emotions on cardiovascular health, researchers at the University of Maryland School of Medicine in Baltimore have shown for the first time that laughter is linked to healthy function of blood vessels. Laughter appears to cause the tissue that forms the inner lining of blood vessels, the endothelium, to dilate or expand in order to increase blood flow.

And just the anticipation of laughter is good for you.

National Post

The simple anticipation of “mirthful laughter” such as watching a comedy on television is enough to increase levels of health-protecting hormones in the body and decrease levels of potentially harmful stress-related hormones, research shows.

So the bottom line–laughter is a good thing. It’s a great stress reliever, even Abraham Lincoln recognized that.

With the fearful strain that is on me night and day, if I did not laugh I should die. ~Abraham Lincoln

Reminisce–The 50’s

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The other day, I described to a friend of mine (much younger than I) the one and only time I could remember an entire movie theater audience jumping out of their seats to dance in the aisles. It was a crazy, spontaneous phenomena. One minute everyone was in their seats, the next they were dancing wildly wherever they could find an open spot.

That was in 1955. The movie was Blackboard Jungle. The song that roused everyone from their seats was Rock Around The Clock performed by Bill Haley and the Comets.

 

 

Seems like I’m not the only one who remembers that day fondly.

From Old Forty Fives, a really great site for some heavy duty reminiscing:

When did Rock’n Roll start?

Some people think it started in 1953 with Ike Turner’s “My Rocket 88,” or Big Joe Turner with “Honey, Hush” in 1953, or “Shake, Rattle and Roll” 1954. Personally, I believe it started with the premiere of the movie Blackboard Jungle in theaters across the country, in 1955. This movie featured the song “Rock Around the Clock” by “Bill Haley and his Comets,” which helped to propell Rock and Roll as a musical genre. It was reported that teenagers jumped from their seats to dance to the song.

Dancing was big in the 50’s. So was fashion. Do you remember how girls used to wear little scarves around their necks? And, of all things, girls actually had portable collars. Want to see more 50’s Fashions?

Petticoats and crinolines–we lived it, while others are obsessed with our fashion sense.

“Those were the days, my friends, we thought they’d never end…”

Shake It Up, Baby

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I am always surprised when someone tells me “back in the day,” they followed a local band from club to club whenever word got around that their favorite band would be appearing. I lived in Pennsylvania at the time, and the band we were crazy about was The Greaseband. We traveled all over to see them and dance to their music.

A friend of mine who lived in Boston followed a band named Southside Johnny & The Asbury Jukes. They were Jersey boys, but evidently performed a lot in Boston, too.

It got me to thinking a whole lotta people did a whole lotta dancing back then to a whole lotta different bands–talented guys who made the regional club scenes fun, but never got onto the national radar. What a shame, because they helped make weekends “somethin’ wonderful.”If you want to send me the name of your local band, I’ll try to locate their video and post it for you.

First The Soapbox, Then Mom’s Italian Wedding Soup Recipe

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Okay, I’m on my soapbox again, encouraging you to write something this week about yourself. If you do, I can almost guarantee one of your children or your grandchildren will thank you someday. You are living in their “good old days.”

I can’t tell you how many times I could kick myself for not asking my mother more questions about her life. Now it’s too late. The only things I have of hers, in her own handwriting, are a few recipes she gave me over the years. At least when I see her handwriting on the page, it helps me to remember other small things about her. I’m going to share one of her recipes with you at the end of this post.

But to get back to journaling, there’s so much to write about. Some suggestions:

  • any kind of travel would be good
  • all of your favorite recipes
  • right now, the campaign for the presidency furnishes a bushel full of options
  • what television shows won’t you miss
  • what movie did you see recently that you absolutely loved
  • if you are reading a book, try writing your own review

And remember, there’s no rule against being humorous. You can go in any direction, it’s your show. Someone mentioned to me a few weeks ago that she started writing stuff down occasionally and she does it in letter form, as if she is actually writing a letter to someone.

Or maybe something happens in the course of a normal day that seems worthy of preserving as a memory. Here’s one from Ireland.

I was driving home yesterday amidst a flood caused by a thaw of snow. We came to a big enough pool of water that stretch the entire width of the road. We watched as the car ahead of us passed safely through the water and then to my surprise the car stopped and waited. The driver waited to make sure we passed through the water safely.

Short, sweet and cute. That’s all it takes.

If you go somewhere…anywhere, write about it. Here’s a very short travelogue and a chuckle from Walking Around. She just returned from a trip to Wales.

So there you have it, one of my pep talks to get you writing and saving your memories. Now to the promised recipe from my mother.

Italian Wedding Soup

3 heads of escarole (found in the produce dept.)
1 lb. ground beef
2 eggs, scrambled
Chicken Broth, either homemade or 2 large cans Chicken Broth (my mother used College Inn)

First roll the ground beef into tiny balls about the size of your thumb nail. Set aside.

Wash the escarole leaf by leaf in a sink filled with cool water. Place leaves on a clean dish towel. There will be loads and loads of leafy greens, but they will shrink down when you drop them into a large pot of boiling water. Keep turning the escarole with a long wooden spoon until all of the greens have been submerged in the water. Cook until tender–about 20 to 25 minutes. To cool–transfer the entire pot to the sink and run cold water into it until the escarole is comfortable to handle. To remove most of the water from the escarole, squeeze the greens into fist-size balls. Cut through each ball, using a cutting board, about 6 times, slicing in two or three different directions.

Rinse out the same pot you used to cook down the escarole, and pour in the chicken broth. Most of the work is now done. Just drop the escarole and all of the tiny meatballs into the hot chicken broth. Cook on medium heat for about an hour.

Now for the scrambled eggs. Make sure the broth is boiling, then pour the eggs onto the surface of the soup. Use a tablespoon to swirl the egg around gently on the surface, creating little bits of cooked eggs. (This is reminiscent of confetti at a wedding–hence the name.) Once the eggs are cooked, the soup is ready to serve.

Optional: Some people like to sprinkle parmesan cheese on top of their soup, so make sure you have that on the table for those with that preference.

Enjoy.  And if you have a recipe from your mother that you’d like to share, feel free to send it as a comment.