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February 12, 2012

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As I Was Saying
By Opal Toney

OpalToney7-24.jpg (37075 bytes)Seasons...
Well, I’m looking forward for spring, but when I woke up this morning and opened the door to go feed the cats and give Son #2’s dog food, whose name is “Bounce a Little,” but it takes quite a lot to feed him. I have to watch, or the cats wouldn’t get a bite!
I enjoy fall and winter when Santa comes, but spring is my favorite.

The Last Word: I enjoy them all! – O.T.


honeyandflag.jpg (61206 bytes)The View From Here
By Katherine Veno

A box of trinkets to help us focus
Is time moving fast or is it just me? I always thought retirement would be endless lazy days. I was wrong. Some of my retired friends tell me they are busier than when they worked full time.
I have to have trinkets to remind me I am not alone in this. The first one is the famous “no” symbol. It is a familiar red circle with a slash through it. It reminds me to just say no. Though many good opportunities may present themselves, I must stay focused. I try to think before I answer. I only say yes to the best.
Next, in the box of junk is a smiley face. It is a cheerful yellow reminder that even the most frustrating events in the day-to-day art of living can become a source of happiness. I remind myself to let go of building tensions when I feel them rising.
Then, there is a pretty dried leaf. Some days I feel scattered as fall leaves. I don’t know which way to go, and don’t really remember why I am headed in any particular direction. Rather than drifting about, I must become a new green leaf and be more secure.
My love of night lights started at a young age. The glow of a night light reminds me I do not have to fear the dark or anything else for that matter.
A worry stone is kept in the pocket and rubbed to release nervous tensions. It can have a calming effect. I love rocks and gemstones, and bought some beautiful ones on my Colorado vacation. Turquoise feels so cool and the tiger eye stone in the shape of a heart is a favorite.
Not wanting to be a hermit, I will not allow myself to become a recluse as I lead a quiet life. I get outside and share some of the day with others even if it is just a trip to the library.
Among old things I have collected is a turtle earring that belonged to my mother. It is carved of black coral, but it reminds me that I need to keep plodding away. Even though my progress may seem slow, I can hang in there.
Most of my days are filled with tasks I just have to redo again and again. I wash dishes only to wash those same dishes again at my next meal. I launder the same clothes over and over. I re-vacuum rooms, re-mow the grass & re-dust the room. I re-shampoo my hair & re-apply lipstick. Sometimes I wish the things I did would stay done.
When the mundane things get in the way of my being able to live in the moment, I stop and not do so many things at once. I have always rushed because I was afraid I would run out of time. Now I want to savor time as it runs out not out-run it.
I do not want to hurry through the day trying to get it all done. I look back and realize that I rushed through so many years that I lost something. I don’t want to do that now.
So, when things seem too much for me, I open the box and pull out a trinket to remind me to savor and breathe. I want to do more than just live. I want to do enough to flap my wings a little before I hit the ground. Then I want to get up once again and see my life in focus. I realize it is the little things in life that matter the most, and I have but a few hours to enjoy them.


EmilyLundy4-2.jpg (36194 bytes)Escapades of Emily
By Emily Gail Lundy

Self-control and moderation
“Overkill” makes me think of all the programs, books, TV shows, announcements, surveys, etc. that discuss the healthy way to eat. Some information contradicts; others make good sense, then comes something better. I’m fatter on too many ways to eat.
You probably know the latest. It has to do with the ubiquitous “pot-belly” of men or the multiple stomachs of a woman.
For men, at the beginning of the 1900s, a pot belly meant prosperity and success; in tougher times came the biscuit belly; next, the beer belly, and the newest is the wheat belly. Also in the early 1900s, fewer pictures are found of fat people which tells me something frightening. Many get to trusting the food we buy to eat. Some have genes that absorb more, and this turns medical in a way that it must have a pill to cure. A box of that years’ past dieting aid, Ayds, was not the “pill” needed.
For years I tried to convince my husband to buy whole wheat, brown bread. It was supposed to be better than the cardboard white. Now my husband buys the brown bread, and I read that this kind is only 2 percent healthier for us than the other. Then a friend lent me a book called WHEAT BELLY.
I began researching “wheat” on labels of foodstuff I frequently buy. Wheat has inundated out daily diet.
The wheatless bread is in health stores, sells for more, and I’m sure no one will like it, those who frequent my table.
It makes sense that vegetables and fruits are our best choices, whether we’re fat and old, slender and young. Note how small ingredients are printed and how unknowns to people like me are listed in what I’ve been eating.
With all the advice given, moderation makes the most sense for health. Before that, one needs a course in self-control. But I have finally written a list of the best foods for me: blackberries, blueberries, fresh apples, oranges (not the juice), salmon, avocados, almonds, walnuts, spinach, green beans, beets, and sweet potatoes. Steak isn’t mentioned because health-concentrators eat chicken. Beef, well done, is suggested briefly by very few health gurus.
It is quite interesting how food appearances somehow relate to part of the body it helps: an onion helps the skin; carrots sliced look like eyes and help vision; beets help the blood; kidney beans help, well, the kidneys; broccoli, like small trees, helps us grow stronger; tomatoes are for the heart (cut a slice and look carefully); mostly all things green are good for us as “going green” in life can help the environment. And I cannot think of the rest. There is something good to eat for memory, but I don’t recall. It is probably brussell sprouts, about the only food I don’t like.
After years of indoctrination, I turned my husband into a fan of two percent milk. We are heavy milk drinkers. Now I’ve heard this reduced percent of fat is not that much different from regular milk. But I know when I’m drinking whole milk. It swallows heavily in the body. One percent is close to good water.
I’ve given up donuts, the nearest to pure sugar we’ll ever eat, but if Mexican Creme Cheese Rolls hold dozens of violations in food, do not feel free to tell me.
I’ve taken enough abuse from buying fat-free condensed milk, the sweet goo that makes ice-box lemon pies.
I’ll repent after eating any dessert by drinking more water and eating more spinach.
Some eaters have stopped “cold turkey” on all sugar and anything edible with preservatives. Incredible people. They are my new heroes.


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