Gallbladder: Take 3

If you aren't aware, hubby has gallbladder issues.  He experienced his first serious gallbladder attack where a stone got stuck in a tube and he turned yellow in August.  We've been on the exploration for a solution ever since.

We went to see many different people - one was Dr. Stupidpants, a surgeon, who couldn't even open up an ultrasound file to look at the films and whose suggestion was, "I cut you here, here, here and here."  Oh, wow.  That is soooo helpful.  Thank you for your wise and astute intelligent remarks.  Great jorb, Hamstray.

We went to the naturopath.  She prescribed some Betafood (by Standard Process) and Phosfood (that stuff - if you have gallbladder issues, GET IT.  Like, run.  Now.  Don't be without it.  I am pretty sure it saved him three times at least.  You can take it as soon as you are having an attack.  But, wash your mouth out after you swig it down with water - or whatever you took it in - because the phosphorus is on the other side of calcium in your body and you don't want to ruin your teeth.), and some other things.  One of which pretty much was torture to him - he had to eat vegan, gluten free and fat-free for a week or two to press reset on his gallbladder.  This meant he got to eat extreme amounts of quinoa and veggies.  If you ever feel the need to lose about thirty pounds, apparently this is a quick way to do so. (By the way, he didn't need to lose 30 pounds, which is quite a disturbing thing to dear hubby.)

We explored integrative medicine and nutrition.  We did chiropractic.  I youtubed accupressure for him and gave him detox baths with pink Himalayan salts.  I researched essential oils that may help.  I fed him more quinoa.

More recently he's decided he's had quite enough.  It's been six months of gallbladdering and he is full of it.  He went to talk to a different surgeon this week to see what they would say.  (What do you think a surgeon would say to you?  They say to cut it out.  Um, duh.)

And today was the last strand of hope before no return.  He went to a very strange, quirky, arrogant, genius, experienced naturopath/physician.  He threw his arms in the air and exclaimed, "This is easy!"  

So.

We're going to try one more thing.  It is the cleanse.  Oh, you know about it.  If you've done any gallbladder reading, you've heard about the apple juice, olive oil, lemon juice (sometimes Epsom salt) thing.  People swear by this and say it will make you feel like a new person.

I'll report later and let you know how it goes.  Until then, if you want to be fascinated, youtube something like "gallbladder flush" and you will stare in horror and amazement.

I'll keep you posted!

Peace, love and healthy gallbladders please,
Ms. Daisy

Return of the Resolutionists

As you may know, I like to go to the gym to swim.  I swim probably about three times a week throughout the year.  In the winter, I add volleyball, and in most of the other seasons, I add running throughout the week.

This week, we were bombarded.

The resolutionists have returned.  (Note: they didn't arrive at the start of the new year as it was too cold apparently to exercise - this is a sign that they just might not have the compunction to keep it going for longer than 4-6 weeks, by the way.  I mean if you aren't going to get out there when it is -13 F, are you really that dedicated?  No, I didn't think so.)

I'm pretty sure I saw these
guys this week.  Ooh, the
intense hotness...

Apparently, in these United States, it is good hilarious fun to make New Year's resolutions. I'd say the top of the list is to get fit and healthy - especially after all of that holiday eating and well...overeating.  You can find all of the magazine racks filled with articles on "How to Lose that Gut" and "Firm and Tone Your Butt" and "Low Fat Wonder Recipes" and the like.  It is the mantra of January - press reset, lose the holiday pounds.

Now, this is generally a very good thing.  The whole world benefits from a healthy population, right?  Less money spent on problems overall (well, I suppose maybe some physicians would be more bored with all of these healthy people running around, but I think it would be okay).

However.  Resolutionists only last so long.  It is as if it is only a new hobby or fad to exercise and somewhere near the sugar-laden holiday of Valentine's Day, they drop like flies.  When exercise becomes a quick fix and something to do in January, nothing changes.  For a life change, you need to persevere and be dedicated to permanent changes.  Unfortunately, the resolutionists are something akin to holiday gym decorations.  Very soon, you get your locker back, your shower back, your place at the mirror back, your plug for your hairdryer back and you won't see them for the next ten and a half months.

But until the midpoint of February, I'll play musical showers and keep tossing out weird garbage from my locker (two unmatched wet and stinky ankle socks?  Really?).

Blurggggggg.

Peace, love and keep calm and swim on,
Ms. Daisy

Ranger Rick and his hate speech propaganda

I am a lover of the library - it is a wealth of fabulous information that you get to delve into to your heart's delight.  I have passed this on to my littles and as a result, they are frequent frequenters of the resource as well.

One of the littles checked out an issue of Ranger Rick (a kid's magazine about animals...or that's what it is supposed to be, anyway) and was reading away.

Hubby came in to the kitchen guffawing at the irony of the article title from something on his phone that said something along the lines of, "Climate Change Expedition Stuck in Antarctic Ice and Bitter Irony".  Wow.  Read this article for full ironic effects. 

And if you want to laugh even harder, check out this article about climate change voodoo.

Then, the little with the magazine bursts out laughing and hands us a blurb in Ranger Rick that says something along the lines of, "sheep belch often.  Sheep's belches have a very naughty nasty horrible evil chemical known as methane.  There are many sheep in Australia.  This means there is a lot of methane in the air from these nincompoop sheep.  Evil methane causes climate change = sheep are evil."  See full page here.

I may have paraphrased.

Here is the close-up.  

How. Ev. Er.

This, right here, m'dears, is a prime example of hate speech against sheep.  I will not stand for this.  Sheep can't help it!  They were born this way!  They were born to burp methane!  What's next?  Persecution of cow's behinds?  (Oh, actually, yes.)  I am sick and tired of all of these people saying sheep burp methane because they learned it from their environment.  No.  That is sick.  You haters need to accept that they were born like this.  God made them this way.  And if you can't handle it, then take your fringe thoughts and go live in a backwards community on Antarctica where it will be soon a prime vacation spot and 80 degrees F every day!  You have to be accepting of the sheep.  What about love?  Are you going to hate them because they're different?  That's what haters do, they gotta hate.  

Keep your propaganda out of Ranger Rick and plop it back onto the nightly news where we're used to being entertained to uproarious laughter.

Peace, love and grab some popcorn and watch as the world goes mad,
Ms. Daisy

Grammar fail: again.

Wouldn't it have just been easier to say, "Cash or checks, please."?  And do you take minor credit cards?  And if so, what is a minor credit card?  If you want to exclude something, just tell us what you do accept.  Golly.

Peace, love and please write your grammar failure on your vehicles,
Ms. Daisy

Fun Questions: Answers!

'Ello, lovelies!  If you haven't looked over the fun questions, have a go at it first here.

(Don't cheat.  Write your answers neatly.  Use pen.  Name upper right corner, please.)

Finished?  Good.

Here are the answers to see if you're a genius.

1.  Billy's mom's other child is...Billy.  Yeah.

2.  A butcher's clerk weighs...meat.

3.  Mt. Everest.  They just hadn't figured it out yet.

4.  There isn't any dirt in a hole.  That's why it is called a hole.

5.  Incorrectly is always spelled "incorrectly".  Unless you're a spelling failure.

6.  Madeline must live in the southern hemisphere!

7.  It's not just in British Columbia - heck no, I don't know anywhere where you could take a picture with a wooden leg.  I much prefer using a camera.  Wooden legs aren't much for keeping good photo memories.  Although you may use it as a "memory stick"?  Har de har har!

8.  Neither, good people.  Yolks are yellow.

9.  If he stacks it all up into one giant pile, I'd say it would be one giant haystack.

10.  You'd be in 2nd place now.  Speed up, would you!  You do want to win, right?


That's it for today.  I hope you've been entertained and stretched your mind.

Peace, love and I dare you to walk around town taking pictures with a wooden leg,
Ms. Daisy

Fun Questions

Recently I came across some questions in an educational meeting that I found to be rather amusing and I've decided to share my amusement with you for your particular enjoyment.

Get your brains ready to roll, cuz here we go...

1.  Billy's mom has three children.  The first is named April, the second is named May.  What is the third child's name?

2. A clerk at a butcher shop is 5'10" tall, has a size 13 shoe.  What does he weigh?

3.  Before Mt. Everest was discovered, what was the tallest mountain in the world?

4.  How much dirt is in a hole that measures 2' x 3' x 4'?

5.  Which word in the English language is always spelled incorrectly?

6.  Madeline's birthday is on December 28th, yet it always falls in the summer.  How is this possible?

7.  In British Columbia, you cannot take a picture of a man with a wooden leg.  Why not?

8.  Which is correct: "The yolk of the egg is white." or "The yolk of the egg are white."?

9.  A farmer has 5 haystacks in one field and 4 haystacks in another field.  If he puts them all together in one field, how many will he have?

10.  If you were running a race and passed the person in 2nd place, what place would you be in now?

Would you be impressed if I told you I got them all right on the first try?  Or would you just want to slap me?  Okay, well, never mind then.

I'll post the answers on my next post.

Peace, love and keep on rockin' the jam,
Ms. Daisy

Karma? And shoveling. And more shoveling.

Not only does my dear darling hubby sometimes call me a nerd, but he also calls me Scrooge around Christmas.  Oh how we love one another!

Actually, I don't really take any offense at the name since I find the consumerism and the total spaztastic-ism that surrounds Christmas in the United States more than appalling.  Why would he call me that, anyway?  Oh, yes.  That.  Well.  That's because I take the Christmas tree down on December 26th before 10:00 a.m.  It is called CLEANING UP, peeps.  You don't keep your birthday party decorations up for a week after the party has ended, do you?  Heavens no.  Or at least, if you do, invite me over and I will clean it up for you.

So, anyway.  We went to millions of Christmas parties and finally we gobbled up someone's germs and the whole house came down with a cold, each one falling 12 hours after the previous sick member.  We were sad little sick dominoes.  

This leads to New Year's Eve.  We were too sick to go out (even though we actually had a babysitter to allow us to do so - what a horrid waste!).  Instead, we spent a lovely time watching a PBS cooking lineup that included Jacques Pepin (he is awesomesauce, in case you didn't know) and then segwayed into the atrocious America's Test Kitchen (which I spent half of the time yelling at the TV for their use of vegetable oil - WHO DOES THAT - and other such despicable practices like using plastic while cooking: really?  But, I suppose, it is aptly named.).  Then we went to bed in the middle of Martha Bakes.  Way to ring in that New Year, baby.

New Year's Day was full of more excitement that included sick people laying around in pajamas with blankets and going in and out of partially comatose states through the day and watching an absolutely disgusting amount of snow barf onto the lawns, sidewalks, driveways and every imaginable living thing on the face of the earth outside.  It was a nightmare.  Not the sick part.  The snow part.  I hate snow.  (The person who invented the song, "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..." was CLEARLY DERANGED and in need of a solid thunk on the noggin.)

But even more than my hatred for snow is my hatred for having my driveway and sidewalk covered in any material whatsoever. You may think me lawn obsessed!  If it were even remotely socially acceptable, you would find me standing outside with a Rambo-like stance and a blowtorch in the fall igniting any foreign bit that dared to dance its way onto my property.

Around 8:00 p.m. we heard a knock at the door (alarming because we weren't expecting anyone and secondly because of how totally AWESOME everyone looked with sideways hair and blankets wrapped around us like we were pathetic little bums - and secondly alarming because usually in our hood that means you betta grab yo' Glock and answer by yelling, "Who dat!?" in a loud and irritated tone without opening the door.  Don't fret, I didn't do that, hubby answered the door, and I simply ran for the .45 just in case.  Easy peasy.).  It was a teenage boy who wanted to shovel for us.  This was good since we were so pathetic that we hadn't been able to shovel all day.  So we agreed and I spent the next half hour peeking spy-fully through miniblinds at his shoveling.

Yeaaaah.  If you know me, you know that I am slightly particular on all things that have to do with my house and/or property.  Martha Stewart is one of my heroes.  I organize for people.  I don't go to bed unless everything is perfectly clean and if the littles leave stuff out, it must be because they want it to go live in the trash for the rest of its life.  When I was a teacher, I may have put tape marks on the ground where the first desk in each row were supposed to line up and the students weren't dismissed until their rows were in perfect alignment.

So it was through these eyes that I looked outside and saw the job of the teenage boy.  I agree, yes, I may be particular, but even if you were the least particular person in the entire world, this would have been a doozy.  It was bad.  There were mohawks of stripes of snow all over the place and he had dumped piles of snow against the house on  the bricks.  Where will that go when it melts?  Oh yeah, into the basement.  Great idea.  He didn't shovel in front of the garage and didn't move things out of the way to shovel the gigantic piles that had accumulated near them.  Basically, a 7 year-old would have done better.

I gave my husband the face.  You know.  The "This Isn't Going To Work" face.  My more sensitive husband went out and asked him to move the piles away from the house.  Then he came back five minutes later asking for money and then he left.  (Yes, we did pay him.  And then I said if someone EVER comes asking to shovel our stuff again, it would be better for everyone if we just slam the door in their face.  Not literally, of course.  Naw, up in this hood, you just "accidentally" let your pit bull out of the screen door and all solicitations cease indefinitely.)

Leaving the driveway in this state could not be borne.  I took my sick pajama-ed self and suited up for the blizzard of 2014.  I shoveled for an hour to clean it up.  I went to bed so glad that it was all fixed.  I even turned off the lights to stare at the marvelous work.  I literally thought to myself, "Now THAT'S something you can enjoy.  Something that isn't like the dishes where you wait three hours and there's another meal to mess it all up!  No!  This right here, this is lasting success!"

The next morning, I opened the window shades to find four more inches of snow.

FOILED!

I suited up again.  My back was breaking, my nose was sniffling, my throat was scratching, but I was going to remove this nastiness.

After an hour, I finished.

At lunch, there were 3 more inches out there.

For real?  Are you even kidding me right now?

The third time of shoveling included me inventing new curses to bring down upon the menacing snowflakes whose entire life purpose was nothing more than to taunt my life off.

Now, I don't believe in karma, but if you did, and you believed in special Christmas karma, and if you believed that if you took your Christmas tree down too soon that it would come get you in a bad way...well, then.  I suppose I am your prime example.

Bah humbug.

Peace, love and please someone invent driveway hairdryers: I WILL PAY YOU,
Ms. Daisy

The NEW 12 Days of Christmas Song

When in the course of human events it becomes necessary to laugh (because you can no longer cry) at the horrors of society, people use their creative minds to produce things that expose the insanely absurd in the form of traditional song.

What I am about to share with you does precisely this.

If you don't know Mike Adams ("The Health Ranger"), then you betta ask somebody!  He is a genius researcher scientist with his own website (perhaps you've heard of it - naturalnews.com?  I thought so.).

Here is his rendition of the ridiculous things available to our culture (and the even more baffling is the fact that apparently SOME PEOPLE must be actually purchasing this stuff).

So, enjoy (sort of?) this rendition of the 12 Days of Christmas.  And please, don't buy me the Gangsta Rap Coloring Book - I already have two.

Peace, love and don't be a zombie,
Ms. Daisy

I heart learning

My dear darling hubby calls me a nerd.  (What a rudycat!)

WhatEVER.

(I prefer "Ms. Princess Extreme Genius Extraordinaire", personally.)  Whyfor would he do such a thing?  Well, this may also come as a surprise to you, but he does not enjoy taking college courses for fun.  And for some strange reason he doesn't think finding the sidereal time of two planets (or orbiting bodies) mathematically to be thrilling.  I know.  I don't get it either!

He didn't even think learning about ancient Egypt in a foreign language was the epitome of excitement.  (I'm laying it out to show you that I  am CLEARLY the sane one.)  

What a weirdo, right!

I know.

I am happy to let you know there are fascinating topics for you to study - and available for you to get into right now!  YOU EVEN GET TO DO HOMEWORK!  How fun is that?!  And quizzes!!  It's like freaking Christmas morning, baby!  I would also tell you that they have final exams, but I don't want you to pee your pants with excitement - get to the bathroom first and then think about it!

I kind of love school.  (I bet you didn't figure that out, though.)  Really, I just love learning new things.  The way I'm doing it is through a website called coursera.  You get to sign up for college level classes for friggidy free!  If you want, you can do all of the course requirements and get a certificate of completion.  I know, it isn't a doctorate, but it hopefully is symbolic of the vast learning you've done.  And you can explore topics you're interested in - they even have some continuing education credits if you're a teacher and need to play the required political games and hoop-jumping tricks they put you up to.

(I think forced learning is el stupido, just in case you were wondering.)

What would you learn if you could learn anything?  I would love to learn Greek, Chinese (Mandarin), Swedish, Arabic (in fact, I signed up for a class once at a local college and it fell through due to low enrollment - whatEVER), Hebrew, naturopathy, astronomy, vermiculture, how to make snow not land on my driveway, how to make leaves never land on my grass, how to play the Brandenburg concerto #3 in G major on violin, how to play the piano, how to paint like Picasso, you know, stuff like that.

So, if this is your thing, I encourage you to check out coursera.org.  I learned about this from my youngest brother-in-law.  I wish I were getting paid loads of money for sending props their way, but I'm doing this out of pure excitement for learning - and  maybe you'll find something fun there, too.

So go check it out!  And while you do, I DARE you to listen to the Brandenburg concerto #3 in G major without spinning in circles kicking your legs out prolifically while pretending you're playing violin.  It's just straight up impossible.

And now, gotta study.

Peace, love and if the Brandenburg concerto #3 were a person, I'd have married them (for the joy of them calling me a nerd),

Ms. Daisy

When Life Gives You Extra Kombucha...

...make kombucha fruit jello, of course!  

There are so many amazing benefits of kombucha and fermented goodies that it should perk your ears up just thinking about it.  What's that, you say?  Did you just ask, "What benefits?"

My, my.  Well, before I bowl you over with piles of goodness, let me just ask you this - did you know that traditional diets consisted of a bit of fermentation at every meal?  Our Standard American Diet (catch that acronym, lovies) is packed full of things guaranteed to mess up your mind, your body, and yer guts.  (Yes, I did know that was a part of your body, I just wanted to emphasize it for good measure.)

White sugar, white flour, cooked to death fruits and veggies, fake foods, genetically modified corn all up in all a ya'lls junk, beef from cows who don't even eat GRASS anymore, and everyone's favorite endocrine disruptor, soy - fill the foods in the grocery stores to the sky whilst people get cancer, allergies, diabetes, and a laundry list of issues up the wazoo.  

GOOD THING IT AIN'T RELATED, EH?

(Remember that whole "you are what you eat" thing?  Now that couldn't be true, right?)

Come on, my friends.  Let's get real here.  Take any one of those on the list and think about it.  When people stopped grinding their own wheat berries into flour and started gobbling up what was given to them from Mrs. Pillsbury and Mr. Swans Down, do you know that infertility spiked?  There isn't enough nutrition in their stripped flour to keep flies alive, let alone make humans thrive.  

Do yourself and your family a favor - see the Standard American Diet as the fad it is and get back to some real food.

Are you familiar with anyone who has trouble digesting milk or milk-products?  Maybe they can eat yogurt, but straight milk gives them gut problems?  May I suggest that the milk that is sold without the necessary enzymes that help you digest it?  Now I know that if you're going to be a grand-scale milk farmer, you can't risk something going wrong and since you can't keep your eye on all of those cows, you are going to have to pasturize it - but the better way is to drink it how it was made.  If everyone had their own cow, I can bet there wouldn't be much in the way of milk issues (and there would be many more happy cows).

The whole point of this is that we greatly benefit from enzymes and probiotics.  (Which is why a lot of people who can't drink milk can have yogurt.)  Our gut needs happy friends to dance around the maypole with.  If your gut ain't happy, your body isn't going to be either.

So I say do it the easy way - kombucha!  (And kombucha jello!)  Or do it the creative way - sauerkraut, dilly pickles, miso, tempeh, kimchee, kefir (water or milk), or make your own yogurt.

(But kombucha jello is pretty durn easy and fabulous.)

Now I told you I'd let you know the benefits - so, without further ado...

1.  Kombucha is a liver-lover.  It helps you detox your liver so it can do its job well.  No wonder it is called the "Elixir of Immortality"!  When your body has a toxic load, you better figure a good way to detox before you multiply the baddies.  Kombucha does just that.  It has glucaric acid - the cancer preventer.  

2.  Kombucha is your gut's best friend.  Ever heard of the benefits of probiotics?  Kombucha is delicious liquid probiotics straight to your belly.  I have personally had several times where my gut just didn't feel right and I walked over to the fridge and chugged a tall glass of kombucha and within the hour I felt 100% better.  Gut clarity helps mental clarity.  Giddyup.

3.  Kombucha wants to be on your immune system's team.  It's packed with antioxidants and boosts your energy.

4.  Kombucha may help you get rid of your sugar cravings.  Are you a sugar-holic?  Get on the kombucha train and toss the Snickers bar overboard.  

These are only a few of the benefits of kombucha!  It is an amazing thing.

Want some jello?  

Here is the basic recipe, but you can find a fancy and cute blog about it with pictures http://dirtyfloordiaries.com/fruity-kombucha-jello-bites/

And I must say, that website is pretty hilarious.  If you can't be bothered with looking at great websites, the quick and fast version of kombucha jello is this:

100% juice (pomegranate is a good one) - about 2 cups
some smashed fruit (optional) - however much you want
gelatin (I prefer Great Lakes brand) - about 2 tablespoons
1 cup or so of room temperature kombucha

Warm up the juice (not too hot) and put the gelatin in - mix until it dissolves.  The kombucha has to be room temp so that when you mix them together, the coldness doesn't make the gelatin blob up.  In your jello dish, let your kombucha be chillaxing while you gently add the warm juice/gelatin mix.  As you pour it in, stir like a fiend.  Plop the fruit in.  Stick in the fridge.  Peek at it more often than you should.  It will be done somewhere near an hour-ish.  You don't want to make the juice too hot either to kill the good enzymes in the kombucha.  Save the enzymes!  (We should get t-shirts that say that...)

Anyway.  Go on now.  Go get yerself some delicious fruity kombucha jello!  It's a great way to get your kids to get that probiotic goodness into their bellies.  (And yours, too!)

Peace, love and jiggidy jello,
Ms. Daisy