Thursday, July 27, 2006

so call me a tree hugger

Check out www.newstarget.com for a very interesting alternative news site. The article on the front page today is about body odor (http://www.NewsTarget.com/019777.html).

I was referred to the site by the folks at Ruth's Hemp Foods, products I'm checking out, especially for our very food allergic three-year-old. I'm going to try their hemp protein with sprouted flax and maca root:
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Also check out Amazon.com's new grocery section. Many products qualify for free shipping and they have an extensive natural/organic section. Bon appetit!

Monday, July 17, 2006

iced tonic

When I was pregnant with our son, we used a midwife, Dottie Kirkpatrick (www.birthmattersmidwifery.com) as our main care provider. At around 25 weeks, my whole body swelled up. I was retaining water and after consulting with Dottie, realized that I was overstressed, eating too little, too little protein, and resting too little. I increased my protein, salt, and water intake, drank nettles tea, put my feet up and rested. After a day and a half, I could see the bones in my feet again and was back to normal in tests.

Stinging nettle has a long, varied history as a tonic. (For an unorganized but fascinating account, see http://tinyurl.com/9fl4g.) I drank an infusion of a couple of teaspoons of dried nettle leaves in 8 oz. of boiling water every morning of my pregnancy after that episode, and continued drinking it after Solomon was born (five months ago!).

I've just started walking again, working toward getting my pre-pregnancy (at least) body back. And it's HOT, so I needed a cool tonic instead of the hot tea. Here's what I came up with. It's surprisingly refreshing, tastes a bit sweet, almost like lemonade, and is delicious.

Iced Tonic

Nettles infusion: Take two strainers (or one very large one) and fill halfway with dried nettles. Pour four cups of boiling water over them. Let it steep at least one hour. Refrigerate until cool.
In a large pitcher, put the juice of one lemon (or more if you like stronger lemonade) and about 1/4 cup xylitol (or raw sugar). Add a few capfuls of apple cider vinegar. Add the nettles infusion. Mix well. Add water to the top of the pitcher and mix well again. Refrigerate and enjoy iced!

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Borrowed books

I am afflicted with that all-too-common, annoying-to-everyone (even those who have it) illness of lax book borrower.

I think it began with moving every three or four years (or seven months) growing up. We unpacked library books hurriedly stuffed with ours. I recall my mother saying we should send those back, but I still have some, I'm embarrassed to say. Returning them all with a check for who knows how many years of fines is on my list of do before I die. My husband gleefully calls me--miss goody two-shoes--evil thief for this lapse.

However, I realized one positive part of this fault when I rescued some of the books from my childhood from my three-year-old son. I connect books with my history.

I have given our children most of the books my mother saved for me, because I wanted them to share in my upbringing. The Laughing Dragon, Sloth's Birthday Party, Mouse Soup are my history. I can't go down the street to a school I attended; they're in Ohio, Arkansas, Oregon, and Texas. I don't meet people I knew from childhood; I don't even know where they are. We lived in all the "o" states before I graduated from high school.

But every time we moved, our house became home with the unpacking of the books. So my books are my history. And that part of me reared up when I found the cover ripped off of one. So I will be saving some of my favorites for when he's a little older.

This attitude toward books also saves my thiefdom from conviction. I remember the people I've borrowed from much more than if I had none of their books. The waiter at the Chinese restaurant who insisted his name was "Waiter" and loaned my his French quotation book, my best friend from college, the one family I stayed in touch with from Ohio. The nagging guilt of needing to return their books has grafted them into my memory. I think of them, pray for them, and even call them far more than if I didn't have that book on the shelf reserved for borrowed books.

So books not only connect me with my history, they make me part of a community, far-flung though it is. If I return them, will I forget their owners? No, but I won't think of them as often. Guilt, in small amounts, properly forgotten and ignored, can perhaps be useful. Who knew?

Books from my childhood:





I have found a new favorite author: Tracy Chevalier. Many have waxed eloquent on her prose. For me, reading her books is like eating refined, deepest dark chocolate truffles. Bliss while it lasts; despair when it's done.

Her books are surprisingly fast reads but also literary, rich with meaningful imagery, surprise, and they grapple with "real" issues of life. She quietly builds tension through each scene, until it's 3 a.m. and you must keep reading. Wonderful.

Go read Chevalier...now!


Saturday, July 01, 2006

Absentmindedness and Senility

I have a working theory. It will be a long time before I know whether or not it works.

If I'm absentminded now, when I'm really old and truly senile, I'll have processes in place to handle it, and will thus be--or at least seem--less senile than all of you deplorably organized people.

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