Warning: PG-13 material follows
Today I want to share with you something from the heart of a dear friend of mine. This is a letter that she writes to her younger self, who is facing a terrifyingly frantic and life-altering situation: unwanted teenage pregnancy. If you have experienced an abortion, perhaps you will identify with these feelings. If you are considering an abortion, think deeply on these words. This sweet, passionate friend of mine lays this all out in her own way, transparent and raw. May you be encouaged, comforted and loved through her words. And even more, may you know that peace of the Almighty Creator.
Peace, love and forgiveness,
Ms. Daisy
If I could go back in time and talk to myself, while still being who I am today, I would put my arms around the young woman sitting in that chair with her face covered in tears. I would tell her that I understand how lonely she feels, how scared she is, and how she feels like she can never do anything right. I would also tell her that one day soon the term "a blob of tissue" will no longer be used by anyone because it will be recognized as a scientifically and medically wrong term. It will simply be referred to as a fetus. The fact is, my sweet girl, that you have a life growing inside you.
I know, oh how I know, that you do not feel ready to be a parent yet. I understand the feeling of having to take care of (what seems like) a problem and the want for it to go away. Please trust me, no matter what you choose to do, your problem, your situation, will never go away. You cannot erase this time in you life out of your memory however much you wish or try to. The hopelessness you feel, the confusion, and frustration that lives inside of you will not go away just because you end the life now growing inside of you.
There will come a day in your life, a day that you cannot now imagine or ever believe to be true, but the day is going to come when you will understand life in a whole new way. That day, you will once again be struck by what you have done. Pain you now only think you understand will grip your heart and almost drown you. Your eyes will be opened to a whole new world, a spiritual world where you will see yourself for who you really are. You will weep like you never have wept before as you are allowing yourself to be embraced by the Almighty, Triune God. Before you are able to utter the words that are rising up inside you, you will already be forgiven. You will become a new creation, you will fall in love with a Heavenly King.
As you walk on this journey as a new creation, as a forgiven person, you will meet people that will bring your thoughts back to what you did all those years ago. You will meet husbands and wives that will share their inmost desire of having a child of their own. You will look at their faces, you will see the pain in their eyes, it will be as if you can feel their longing to have a child, but for some reason they cannot conceive on their own. Your feelings of guilt will once again rise up. What if you would have been able to give the life growing inside you to a loving husband and wife like that?
One day, not so terribly far away, you will meet a man that will happily become your husband despite all your baggage. The day will come when you will find out that the two of you are expecting a baby together. You will rejoice, but once again, you will be reminded of this first time you found out you had a life growing inside you and tears will involuntarily stream down your cheeks. Then, the beautiful day will come when you will experience a new kind of love - the love of holding your baby in your arms for the first time. At that same moment, you will experience a new kind of pain and sorrow. You will look at your beautiful baby and you will realize that this baby once were at the same place inside of you and began growing the same way as the life you decided to end.
No one will ever again be able to convince you that you are not a murderer. I cannot forgive myself, but I praise God that He is so much mightier than me. I praise Him for not depending on me forgiving myself in order for me to have forgiveness in Him.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Friday, March 14, 2014
An Interview: Kicking the Pop Habit
Hello, my lovies! Today I have something I am SO EXCITED to share with you! Sometime in September, I heard that my friend's hubster kicked the pop habit. Now this may seem like no big deal to you, but this guy...let me just say, he was the DEFINITION of a pop habit. She told me that she never ever thought that he would give it up. He slept with a 2 liter of pop next to his bed at night in case he woke up. Seriously. He packed it tenderly with him when he went on a vacation (one for every day, plus one extra on backup). This is not your average pop drinker, my friends. This was a full-blown addict.
It takes a lot to kick any habit, but a habit that is ~35 years in the making is exceptionally difficult. Jeff did it. You can, too.
I know there are many of you out there who drink pop and can't imagine how you could give it up. This story is for you. It should serve as your inspiration. If this guy can do it, I know you can, too. Stop killing yourself and read on.
Without further ado, the interview.
1. Please
introduce yourself. (You can
include whatever you want about yourself.
You can say your job, whatever you like.)
JM: My name is Jeff and I’m going
to turn 39 soon. I’m an electrical engineer by degree and work at a security
integration company as their lead engineer.
- On the whole spectrum of crunchy organic granola, one being you are the president of Monsanto and microwave your GMO lunch in plastic bags while showering in pesticides and ten being you make your clothes out of homemade organic hemp that you grew in your backyard while you ferment your kombucha in your dreadlocks, where would you say you fit?
JM: I’m probably a 5 (from my
perspective) LOL.
- How long have/had you been drinking pop?
JM: To say my whole life would be
an understatement. I can’t remember not drinking pop. My parents bought it, so I
drank it. I had it with most meals and whenever I went out to eat. I
drank it throughout college and didn’t stop once I graduated. It was a way of
life. So totaling that all up, I’m thinking about 34 years.
- How much, on an average day, did you drink?
- Did you have any health or dental issues as a result?
JM: I’m not aware of any health
issues that this may have contributed directly to right now, but I’m sure that it
indirectly has caused my increase in weight (duh) and my lack of energy at
times (but what about the caffeine? – when your body is being embalmed with
caffeine it no longer has the desired effect). I know that it has had a devastating impact on
my teeth and gums. I recently had a dentist appointment and they asked if I had
changed my diet. When I told them I stopped drinking pop they said it was
obvious because my gums were starting to repair themselves. (Luckily my
gingivitis had not progressed to the point that my gums were permanently
damaged! Wish I could say that about my teeth, especially the one with the
crown and the two other that need crowns that I’m waiting on.)
- What kind of crack, er, I mean, pop, did you usually drink?
JM: Growing up, I drank Coke as that
was what my parents bought. In high school I switched to Mountain Dew. This
continued throughout college and didn’t stop until 2006 when my son was born
and I decided to try to stop then. It didn’t last long. Pepsi released Diet
Pepsi Max about 4 months later and it contained more caffeine that Mountain
Dew, so I was hooked again. Then they
relabeled it to just Pepsi Max (but it was still diet) so it would market to
men better. I now had an excuse to
continue my habit since it was diet.- How did you used to view pop?
JM: It was my water. Seriously, I
never drank anything else - only Pepsi Max. There were times where I had run
out of my 2 liters (which I bought 10 and 20 at a time) and I seriously didn’t
drink anything for a day to the point of dehydration. I was seriously addicted
and had to make a change.
- I heard that your children, when they were very little had their baby bottles, your wife had her water bottle and you had your 2 liter. I also heard that your 2 liter was called “Daddy’s water”. Is this true? Do tell all.
JM: That is true. I drank directly
from my 2 liter. I carried it with me everywhere. I had it by my side of the
bed at night so I could take a drink of it if I woke up. I always had it near
me around the house wherever I went. I
had next to me in the car. I would take
multiple bottles with me on vacation (at least one for everyday plus a spare.) It was a part of my attire, like underwear but
meant more to me…LOL.
- What was the catalyst that started you thinking about changing this habit?
JM: It wasn’t just one thing. Like I
said before, I tried to quit back in 2006. I think that as I’ve grown older
I was realizing that the “benefits” of drinking pop (the caffeine and the
taste) were not worth the cost financially nor to my health. I knew it was
affecting my weight, my sleep, and it wasn’t good when I ran out because the
only thing I could think of was getting my next bottle and I didn’t really care
about anything or anyone else in those moments. But if I had to choose one catalyst, it was when my son (who ironically doesn’t like pop at all) said, “I
can’t wait until I get older like you Dad and then I will like pop and can
drink as much as I want.” My other kids had said things like this before but they DO like pop. To have my
son who doesn’t like it think that
this is just something he has to do in order to grow up just opened my eyes to the
message I was unintentionally sending my kids.
- What sealed the deal all the way – what was the fact or the phrase or the thought that tipped you over the edge and made you realize you wanted to do this for real?
JM: I had no more excuses left that
held any basis in logic. I knew it was bad for me with all the chemicals in it.
I knew it was contributing to my weight gain, my lack of good sleep, and my
declining dental health. The caffeine had no effect on me in regards to keeping
me up at night at all. I could drink 2 liters of pop and go right to sleep. In fact, I was having trouble staying awake at
night. Now I’m able to stay awake with no caffeine at all.
- Your wife thought that you would never, never, never, ever, ever give up pop. (Except add in fourteen more “nevers”.) Some people may give it up easily because they drink pop once every other week with their pizza, but your pop drinking was a way of life. How on earth did you do it? (Was it a cold turkey thing or did you cut back?) What is the secret?
JM: You could probably put “nevers”
to the power to infinity [*cough* engineer *cough*] and that is what my wife thought. I had to do this
cold turkey. That is the only way it was going to work for me. So I went
through a tremendously painful 72 hours of a no pop weekend and then just
started filling my empty 2 liters with water and drank those instead. In many
ways that actually helped me because part of any addiction are the [physical] processes [and habits] leading into it. So to still have the two liter near me filled with water
instead of pop was helpful. I now have a refillable 500 mL water bottle that I
take everywhere with me instead.
- Did you ever feel like you were a little addicted to it? If you were, was it just an emotional tie to it (being used to it in your everyday life) or was it a physical thing (you needed it to stay awake, etc.)?
JM: There is no doubt in my mind
that I was addicted to it just like a smoker, or a “choose your drug” addict. It
wasn’t just physical, it was emotional and there are still times I have the desire to
buy a 2 liter. I still miss the sound of opening a new 2 liter of pop.
- How did you tell your wife that you were thinking about giving it up? What did your wife say/do when you told her you were thinking about quitting pop?
JM: I told her on our 15th
anniversary. She was in complete shock
and I think she was skeptical. I told her that she should could call people and
tell them about my decision (which I knew would help me follow through - no one
wants to let people down). I told her
she could call you and others and let them know.
- What do you drink now? What do you do instead?
JM: I drink water primarily. Just
to be on the level, I will on occasion have a glass of pop when we are out to
eat or over at a friend’s house or party. But we do not buy it and do not have it in
the house anymore.
- How long has it been since you’ve crossed over to the non-pop drinking side of life?
JM: It has now been 7 months. One
of the reasons I waited to do this interview [the time between the interview
questions being sent out and them being answered was about 6 months] was to
make sure I had actually made the switch and wasn’t going to backslide.
- Do you feel any different yet? How?
JM: I feel very different and it is
a good different. I have more energy and when I wake up I don’t feel lethargic.
I can now stay awake without caffeine and if I have something with caffeine in
it, it actually has the desired effect of helping me stay up later. My kidneys
like me and I’m reminded about that multiple times everyday.
- What would you say to someone who is considering giving it up? How would you pull them over to the dark side/onto the crazy train?
JM: Accept the fact that you are an
addict and that staying there is not a good thing. It isn’t good for your body,
it isn’t good for your mental awareness, and it isn’t good for those who are
watching you and may try to follow your example someday. Once you have accepted
that, then take the leap and do what it take for YOU to change. My way (cold
turkey) may not work for you, but whatever you think will work - try it - and
make that choice each day.
- Have you lost any weight?
JM: Yes, but I ended up putting
that back on during Christmas. But I have now continued to lose and I’m down 15
pounds since Christmas.
- Have you saved any money?
JM: Yes. You do the math… 365 days
in a year equal 365 bottles of pop times $1.29 or more equals about $500 a
year.
- How much do you miss it? On a scale of 1-10: 1 is you can’t imagine drinking it ever again in your life and 10 is you have composed several songs and poems to your old 2 liters which you sing in hymn-like and devoted fashion upon waking daily.
JM: This is still a situational
thing. I would say that on average I miss it about a 3. But there are days that
it is about 9 and I drink a lot of water on those days!!! J
- As a result of ditching pop, have you made any other changes in your lifestyle that are steps toward further healthy decisions? (a.k.a. Has ditching pop been your gateway to other healthy things?)
JM: I have started to pay attention
to my food intake and I do plan on starting running once the weather gets
warmer.
- Any other benefits that you’d like to share with the world?
JM: Overall, I just feel better about
myself knowing that I’m making the healthy choice and I’m now a good example to
my family. I think that my kids now have an example of someone who had made a
bad choice, but instead of wallowing in shame and despair, showed the guts to
own the problem and make changes for the better.
- Is it true that you’ve even tried kombucha? What do you think of that stuff?
JM: Yes I have. It is an acquired
taste. I will probably make another batch at some point in the future.
I, for one, am very impressed. I know that your wife had always said that
she thought you would never, never, never, ever, ever give up pop. But you did it. And for that, I bestow upon you a very
glittery and pink high five.
Peace, love, and three cheers to Jeff for killing the habit!
Ms. Daisy
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Gallbladders: Part 5 - the removal
Hello, lovelies. It's time for another episode of Ms. Daisy and the Gallbladders (yes, that is my band name).
If you are already quite familiar, this post is one part in a series of five spanning about a six month period. You may be surprised to see the title, but (as usual) I've got the whole story for you, coming right up.
If you've been reading along, you've seen the absolutely DELIGHTFUL journey we've had in Galbladderlandia - the enzymes, the flush, the naturopaths, the chiropractors, the Hulda zapping, the veganism, the Beta Fooding, the quinoa, the detox baths, the accupressure, and much more. We have apple cider vinegar in bulk for chugging after meals here. I have fifty kinds of Standard Process supplements that should have helped the hubby and his little buddy, Mr. Gallbladder.
HOWEVER.
After the first gallbladder attack where my hubby got a gallstone stuck in his bile duct and turned yellow, we figured his body was just a teensy bit perhaps trying to tell us something. So we opened the tools in the toolbox - the regular doctor, the surgeon, the chiro, the naturopath, and a doctor of integrative medicine. I went crazysauce on researching herbal remedies, detoxification and cleanses.
As you may be aware, we aren't the type around here to just hop onto the surgical bandwagon first thing. I find that to be rather disturbing, actually. So, we avoided it like the plague for as long as we could.
The flush worked well. It got out the gallstones. In fact, if having gallstones is your only problem, I highly recommend that you get on that bus and ride. Do the Hulda lemon, olive oil thang and you will be amazed.
But, unfortunately, for my hubby, we found out that gallstones were not the problema. Mr. Gallbladder was a sick, sick puppy.
I am the sort to ask a surgeon if I may see the organ or if I may not, if I may please see pictures of the organ. (I can hear half of you shaking your heads saying, "I am zero percent shocked." from here.) And that is what Mr. Surgeon did. Now, if you're wondering, we did not go to Surgeon Dr. McStupidpants, we went to one that actually had (how shall I say this) a brain.
It was distressing to me, to be quite honest, to think how we failed at rescuing Mr. Gallbladder. I suppose that the signals of bad digestion he was experiencing twenty years ago as a teenager should have been paid attention to, but they were not. And I wasn't around then, and I did not think the way I do now back then, even if I were to be some random other teenager running up to him, begging him to not eat like a human garbage disposal.
At any rate, when he had a reaction to almond milk and hemp cereal, I looked deep within myself and wondered if I was going to end up killing my hubby if I didn't suggest that we get rid of the nasty thing. He was afraid if it went gangrenous that it would murder his pancreas and harm his liver. At around 2:00 a.m. after the hemp cereal gallbladder attack, I finally said the words I thought I'd never say, "I think it might be time, honeybearsweetiesnookemsdeary." (Or something like that.)
He called the surgeon and begged for a date to get in that would not be a month and a half away and graciously (for crying out loud, the guy is getting paid like one bamillion jillion dollars for a fifteen minute procedure, so I guess he figured it would be okay, especially since dear hubbsters was practically crawling on gravel in front of him) he agreed. (He was going on vay-cay-cay for like a month.)
The day approached and my waif of a husband was ready. Sorta. He so hates hospital stuff. It makes him think of croaking. And he didn't want to croak. Yes, he did read all of the possible things that could go wrong during a surgery (like having your bowels severed and you die instantly), so he was prepared. The poor guy got stabbed in some nerve because a young and new nurse thought he ought not have pain meds to insert his port thingy since he said he had issues with novocaine. (It wasn't related to novocaine, and his arm still hurts weeks later.)
Thank the Lord, all went as well as could be expected and he is healing well. I gave him chicken broth after his surgery and he was so starving that he thought I had pretty much made him the best meal in the history of the entire universe. Poor guy.
He seems to be on the mend and back to his wily ways - yesterday (I KID YOU NOT) he picked up some pazcki's for some customers and had a half one himself. (Hello and welcome to Revoltingland.)
We got word from the follow-up appointment that Mr. Gallbladder got sent off to be tested in the lab. Hubsters asked about the state of it, and what was found out. He had mentioned to the surgeon that he felt surprisingly well, and had not had any bowel issues (this is a common issue with people who have their gallbladder removed). The surgeon replied, "Yes. Well. That is because we found out at the lab that your gallbladder was functioning at ZERO PERCENT." I guess that whole looking yellow thing was a jolly decent sign it was not happy, either.
So, my friends, this ends the saga of the gallbladder. I still will stand by most all of you and tell you to fight for yours. Try everything. Don't go jumping on the surgery bandwagon unless you've done it all. You can't get it back, it is a one way street. And then you have the issue of worrying about absorbing fat-soluble vitamins. Consider carefully and be wise, lovies.
Peace, love and be well,
Ms. Daisy
If you are already quite familiar, this post is one part in a series of five spanning about a six month period. You may be surprised to see the title, but (as usual) I've got the whole story for you, coming right up.
If you've been reading along, you've seen the absolutely DELIGHTFUL journey we've had in Galbladderlandia - the enzymes, the flush, the naturopaths, the chiropractors, the Hulda zapping, the veganism, the Beta Fooding, the quinoa, the detox baths, the accupressure, and much more. We have apple cider vinegar in bulk for chugging after meals here. I have fifty kinds of Standard Process supplements that should have helped the hubby and his little buddy, Mr. Gallbladder.
HOWEVER.
 |
| Ewwwwwwwwwww, gross stuff. |
After the first gallbladder attack where my hubby got a gallstone stuck in his bile duct and turned yellow, we figured his body was just a teensy bit perhaps trying to tell us something. So we opened the tools in the toolbox - the regular doctor, the surgeon, the chiro, the naturopath, and a doctor of integrative medicine. I went crazysauce on researching herbal remedies, detoxification and cleanses.
As you may be aware, we aren't the type around here to just hop onto the surgical bandwagon first thing. I find that to be rather disturbing, actually. So, we avoided it like the plague for as long as we could.
The flush worked well. It got out the gallstones. In fact, if having gallstones is your only problem, I highly recommend that you get on that bus and ride. Do the Hulda lemon, olive oil thang and you will be amazed.
But, unfortunately, for my hubby, we found out that gallstones were not the problema. Mr. Gallbladder was a sick, sick puppy.
I am the sort to ask a surgeon if I may see the organ or if I may not, if I may please see pictures of the organ. (I can hear half of you shaking your heads saying, "I am zero percent shocked." from here.) And that is what Mr. Surgeon did. Now, if you're wondering, we did not go to Surgeon Dr. McStupidpants, we went to one that actually had (how shall I say this) a brain.
It was distressing to me, to be quite honest, to think how we failed at rescuing Mr. Gallbladder. I suppose that the signals of bad digestion he was experiencing twenty years ago as a teenager should have been paid attention to, but they were not. And I wasn't around then, and I did not think the way I do now back then, even if I were to be some random other teenager running up to him, begging him to not eat like a human garbage disposal.
 |
| Poor little Mr. Gallby, getting ripped off of the liver bed. |
At any rate, when he had a reaction to almond milk and hemp cereal, I looked deep within myself and wondered if I was going to end up killing my hubby if I didn't suggest that we get rid of the nasty thing. He was afraid if it went gangrenous that it would murder his pancreas and harm his liver. At around 2:00 a.m. after the hemp cereal gallbladder attack, I finally said the words I thought I'd never say, "I think it might be time, honeybearsweetiesnookemsdeary." (Or something like that.)
He called the surgeon and begged for a date to get in that would not be a month and a half away and graciously (for crying out loud, the guy is getting paid like one bamillion jillion dollars for a fifteen minute procedure, so I guess he figured it would be okay, especially since dear hubbsters was practically crawling on gravel in front of him) he agreed. (He was going on vay-cay-cay for like a month.)
The day approached and my waif of a husband was ready. Sorta. He so hates hospital stuff. It makes him think of croaking. And he didn't want to croak. Yes, he did read all of the possible things that could go wrong during a surgery (like having your bowels severed and you die instantly), so he was prepared. The poor guy got stabbed in some nerve because a young and new nurse thought he ought not have pain meds to insert his port thingy since he said he had issues with novocaine. (It wasn't related to novocaine, and his arm still hurts weeks later.)
Thank the Lord, all went as well as could be expected and he is healing well. I gave him chicken broth after his surgery and he was so starving that he thought I had pretty much made him the best meal in the history of the entire universe. Poor guy.
He seems to be on the mend and back to his wily ways - yesterday (I KID YOU NOT) he picked up some pazcki's for some customers and had a half one himself. (Hello and welcome to Revoltingland.)
 |
| And by "other", we mean "filled with partially hydrogenated poison". |
We got word from the follow-up appointment that Mr. Gallbladder got sent off to be tested in the lab. Hubsters asked about the state of it, and what was found out. He had mentioned to the surgeon that he felt surprisingly well, and had not had any bowel issues (this is a common issue with people who have their gallbladder removed). The surgeon replied, "Yes. Well. That is because we found out at the lab that your gallbladder was functioning at ZERO PERCENT." I guess that whole looking yellow thing was a jolly decent sign it was not happy, either.
So, my friends, this ends the saga of the gallbladder. I still will stand by most all of you and tell you to fight for yours. Try everything. Don't go jumping on the surgery bandwagon unless you've done it all. You can't get it back, it is a one way street. And then you have the issue of worrying about absorbing fat-soluble vitamins. Consider carefully and be wise, lovies.
Peace, love and be well,
Ms. Daisy
Monday, February 24, 2014
Losing volleyball = bad grammar binge
Sometimes in life you may lose a volleyball game or two. When you lose three in a row, there is nothing left to do but to look up horrid examples of grammar online to make you laugh once again. Thank you, bad grammar. You always make me laugh and cry.
Peace, love, and tell me the one about "Let's eat Grandma" again,
Ms. Daisy
What? It was either that or the People of Walmart.
Peace, love, and tell me the one about "Let's eat Grandma" again,
Ms. Daisy
What? It was either that or the People of Walmart.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Never Give Up Hope
Do you ever sigh and think this world will never change, no matter what you do? Do you throw your hands to the sky and wonder when things will be different?I am here to tell you - NEVER give up hope. You can change the world.
If you didn't see the post dating from the 29th of January, this may not make any sense to you, but if you did, please rejoice wildly along with me. (I'm so excited I don't even care that they ended "Thank you" with a comma.)
Peace, love and proper lexicon,
Ms. Daisy
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Silver Polish, version 2.0 - the easy way
I wrote a post a long time ago wherein I found a recipe for silver polish from the Compendium for Cookery (circa 1890) - it's here.
I am glad for that recipe, but it is a paste. And you know, with pastes, you must slather and slop and blaggle (I just made that up, but you get the idea) it all over the silver items in all of their nooks and crannies while scrubbing. And your hands have to touch the stuff, which gets you all silvery smelling (do you know what I mean? Its that sort of sulfur smell, sort of unpleasant, but not completely overpowering?) and all dirty.
If it is between that recipe and the general run of the mill toxic chemical stuff made in factories and sold to you at your favorite retailer, I will choose the sloppy blaggle every single time - both for the reason of cost (to make a paste it costs about five cents - well, okay, I don't know, but I'm just guessing.) and for the toxic exposure.
BUT!
Oh, my lovely friends. You have to try this. I have something that is homemade, cheap, and you DON'T HAVE TO TOUCH OR SCRUB! Wooo!
So, I'm having a tea party tonight and I looked at my china cabinet and was like, um yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, people are going to be choosing their tea cups today and alas, there, beneath the tea cups, is the silver tea set which looks like it was in a soot fight with Mary Poppin's friend, Bert, who cleans fireplaces. So. I tried to dig out my old paste recipe and didn't have it on a 3x5 card in my handy-dandy 3 ring binder, so I went online.
What did I find there, m'dears? A very simple recipe for a silver dip. No, not like you're going to eat the dip with chips, a dip to dip your stuff in.
(Just in case you were wondering.)
It looked so easy I had to do the science experiment.
You need to try this. For real. It's cheap, quick and did I mention there is NO SCRUBBING?
Yes. Ahem.
I am partial to those kinds of things, especially when I am in a hurry like today.
Here's what you do:
1. Get your disgusting looking tarnished silver and marvel at how utterly horrid it looks.
2. Fill up your sink with the hottest water you can. Make it deep enough to put your silver items in so that they will be submerged.
3. Put a piece of aluminum foil on the bottom of your sink. I just made it about the size of the sink.
4. Sprinkle salt and baking soda into thecauldron sink. I don't know how much, maybe 2 teaspoons? Maybe 2 tablespoons? Whatever. You don't need to measure.
5. Stir it up with a wooden spoon.
6. Place disgusting looking tarnished silver items in the water.
7. Wait. It may lay in there for up to 5 minutes.
8. Watch as before your very eyes it turns from black to shiny silver.
9. Cheer.
10. Figure how to get it out of there without touching it (this is a Ms. Daisy thing. I suppose you could touch it, but I don't know how toxic it is. I used tongs to lift it out and the wooden spoon to balance it.).
11. Dry it with some paper towel.
12. Marvel at how shiny it is and you didn't even have to do anything difficult. Wow. Yeay!
I believe the last time I actually polished my silver was that last post, so you can imagine that it was quite oxidized. If this is all it takes to clean silver in the future, I may actually be inspired to keep it clean.
I had to tell you.
Now, go on, try it!
Peace, love and party, party, tea party,
Ms. Daisy
I am glad for that recipe, but it is a paste. And you know, with pastes, you must slather and slop and blaggle (I just made that up, but you get the idea) it all over the silver items in all of their nooks and crannies while scrubbing. And your hands have to touch the stuff, which gets you all silvery smelling (do you know what I mean? Its that sort of sulfur smell, sort of unpleasant, but not completely overpowering?) and all dirty.
If it is between that recipe and the general run of the mill toxic chemical stuff made in factories and sold to you at your favorite retailer, I will choose the sloppy blaggle every single time - both for the reason of cost (to make a paste it costs about five cents - well, okay, I don't know, but I'm just guessing.) and for the toxic exposure.
BUT!
Oh, my lovely friends. You have to try this. I have something that is homemade, cheap, and you DON'T HAVE TO TOUCH OR SCRUB! Wooo!
So, I'm having a tea party tonight and I looked at my china cabinet and was like, um yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, people are going to be choosing their tea cups today and alas, there, beneath the tea cups, is the silver tea set which looks like it was in a soot fight with Mary Poppin's friend, Bert, who cleans fireplaces. So. I tried to dig out my old paste recipe and didn't have it on a 3x5 card in my handy-dandy 3 ring binder, so I went online.
What did I find there, m'dears? A very simple recipe for a silver dip. No, not like you're going to eat the dip with chips, a dip to dip your stuff in.
(Just in case you were wondering.)
It looked so easy I had to do the science experiment.
You need to try this. For real. It's cheap, quick and did I mention there is NO SCRUBBING?
Yes. Ahem.
I am partial to those kinds of things, especially when I am in a hurry like today.
Here's what you do:
1. Get your disgusting looking tarnished silver and marvel at how utterly horrid it looks.
2. Fill up your sink with the hottest water you can. Make it deep enough to put your silver items in so that they will be submerged.
3. Put a piece of aluminum foil on the bottom of your sink. I just made it about the size of the sink.
4. Sprinkle salt and baking soda into the
5. Stir it up with a wooden spoon.
6. Place disgusting looking tarnished silver items in the water.
7. Wait. It may lay in there for up to 5 minutes.
8. Watch as before your very eyes it turns from black to shiny silver.
9. Cheer.
10. Figure how to get it out of there without touching it (this is a Ms. Daisy thing. I suppose you could touch it, but I don't know how toxic it is. I used tongs to lift it out and the wooden spoon to balance it.).
11. Dry it with some paper towel.
12. Marvel at how shiny it is and you didn't even have to do anything difficult. Wow. Yeay!
I believe the last time I actually polished my silver was that last post, so you can imagine that it was quite oxidized. If this is all it takes to clean silver in the future, I may actually be inspired to keep it clean.
I had to tell you.
Now, go on, try it!
Peace, love and party, party, tea party,
Ms. Daisy
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Winter = the devil
Apparently I am living amongst Mr. Beaver, Lucy and Tumnus. I am living in the reign of the White Witch in perpetual winter and let me just tell you, I don't like it one bit.
I don't know if you remember, but on New Year's day I wrote a post about shoveling the snow. I am pretty sure I have been shoveling snow continuously since that day. I wake up, I look out the window, grit my teeth together in some sort of menacing snarly way and say, "OH...GOODIE...IT...SNOWED. AGAIN." It is a wonder I haven't broken any yet.
And then, I go outside with a shovel and lift thousands of pounds of snow off of my driveway and sidewalk up to snowdrifts that are so high, most of the snow you are shoveling tosses onto the side of it so that it rolls down the mountain and you get to shovel it five times. The piles are higher than the fences now.
Some of you may think, "Oh, but snow is so lovely!" (While you bat your eyes and clasp your hands near your cheek.) I dare you to say it to my face. Apparently you have not shoveled thousands of pounds of snow daily and live in a place that is not drowning in snow. I met two girls who are exchange students from Uruguay. They said the first week of snow was real excitement! Ooh! Lovely, it's -5F/-20C! What a novelty! And now, after three weeks of snow dump and negative temperatures and 30 mph winds, they are ready to jog back to the land of 120 degrees F and delightful beaches, tank tops and shorts.
I suppose it does not help that almost every shovel scoop is a full one, so not much progress is had, especially since if you finish a section, by the time you are done, it is covered in snow again.
Yes, Susie mama, I'm all done with winter.
Peace, love and OH JOY, I need to go shovel some more,
Ms. Daisy
I don't know if you remember, but on New Year's day I wrote a post about shoveling the snow. I am pretty sure I have been shoveling snow continuously since that day. I wake up, I look out the window, grit my teeth together in some sort of menacing snarly way and say, "OH...GOODIE...IT...SNOWED. AGAIN." It is a wonder I haven't broken any yet.
And then, I go outside with a shovel and lift thousands of pounds of snow off of my driveway and sidewalk up to snowdrifts that are so high, most of the snow you are shoveling tosses onto the side of it so that it rolls down the mountain and you get to shovel it five times. The piles are higher than the fences now.
Some of you may think, "Oh, but snow is so lovely!" (While you bat your eyes and clasp your hands near your cheek.) I dare you to say it to my face. Apparently you have not shoveled thousands of pounds of snow daily and live in a place that is not drowning in snow. I met two girls who are exchange students from Uruguay. They said the first week of snow was real excitement! Ooh! Lovely, it's -5F/-20C! What a novelty! And now, after three weeks of snow dump and negative temperatures and 30 mph winds, they are ready to jog back to the land of 120 degrees F and delightful beaches, tank tops and shorts.
I suppose it does not help that almost every shovel scoop is a full one, so not much progress is had, especially since if you finish a section, by the time you are done, it is covered in snow again.
Yes, Susie mama, I'm all done with winter.
Peace, love and OH JOY, I need to go shovel some more,
Ms. Daisy
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Gallbladder: Part 4 - The Flush
Good gravy, my friends. Gallbladders are something else. I have been on the ride with the gallbladder for quite a while now in the vicarious way through my dear hubby.
Last week (ish), hubby went to a crazy genius triple doctorate doctor who exclaimed wildly that, "This is easy!" and recommended a liver flush.
This is the story of said flush and its results.
According to this flush, hubby needed to prep by doing two things - taking Standard Process phosfood and drinking raw organic apple juice. Gallstones are part calcium and part cholesterol balls. The bigger, harder ones are made of more calcium. Phosfood is a phosphorus supplement - and since calcium and phosphorous are on the see-saw together, when you bump your phosphorus up, you can drop the calcium (and thus, softening the gallstones). Otherwise, there is a component within raw organic apple juice that is called malic acid - this puppy shrinks those gallstones like nobody's beeswax.
He had to drink at least 6 cups (48 oz. +) of the apple juice for three days. Some flushes say that on the third day, you fast except for drinking apple juice, but the one we were following did not say that (which made hubby really happy because he loves food).
So, the night of the flush, I mixed up a lovely concoction (according to the directions of the flush) of 8 oz. organic extra virgin olive oil and the juice of a lemon and a half. I shook it up in a jar for him to slightly emulsify it. I don't know why. I just felt bad, I guess, and I thought this would make it look nicer.
He drank it around 10:00 p.m. and then he laid down on his right side (that's what we were told he ought to do) for 30 minutes. This was the time of nervousness. Up to this point, hubby has had severe issues with his gallbladder when he ate fat. And now he just drank a cup of olive oil. He was freaking out that he was going to have an attack. But don't worry, he didn't.
He tried to go to sleep. I kept twitching when I was falling asleep so I kept him awake, but hey, I could not help it. It's how I roll. Eventually he fell asleep, but it was a light sleep and not of very good quality.
At 4:00 a.m., he woke up. Since he was awake, he tried to go to the bathroom. No gallstones. But now he felt a little nauseous. He was sure it wasn't going to work and he was just going to barf his guts out.
At 7:00 a.m., he woke up again. Bathroom, yes. Gallstones, no.
At 9:00 a.m., he went in for another bathroom party and guess what? Gallstones, baby! Those gross little puppies were floating! We were not like other people who save them and put them on paper towels and take pictures of them, I am sorry to report to you. If you'd like, I'll tell you that they were green and small and floated.
After this, he decided to try to have a little bit of a pancake. It was the first time that he had eaten anything since August and his stomach didn't do flips and turns and churns and burgles. He was so happy he could have said, "Hooray." But I am more the spaz in the relationship, so he didn't say anything and I said, "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!".
At lunch he ate some other food and he said he felt normal. He was very happy about this.
At dinner he ate spicy food and even took a bite of my grass-fed burger (something that was an instant trigger for him before) and felt fine. (He's a daring fellow, eh? Actually, I don't think he could stand the smell of the deliciousness without giving it a try.)
He did say that he felt a little sore on his right side, but it was not the way that it used to be. I am happy to say that he thought it was not a big deal, although he initially thought it was going to kill him and his face off.
If you are going to do it, let me encourage you to try it. It's basically like you're just having a gulp of some delicious lemony dressing and just try to think that you're a brave, brave wild person and try to get through it.
We are more than a week out and he has had no gallbladder attacks (phew), lessened gallbladder pain (hooray! He says it is not the same pain. It's like it is a sore muscle. It used to be that when food touched his tongue, it would FREAK OUT.) and he is able to eat foods he was not daring to try before. He is going to do the flush again, this time the official Dr. Hulda Clark flush - to see if it will increasingly improve.
(Speaking of Hulda, do you know about this lady? She wrote a book called The Cure for All Diseases. She's very interesting indeed.)
I'll keep you posted.
Peace, love and flush that thang!
Ms. Daisy
Last week (ish), hubby went to a crazy genius triple doctorate doctor who exclaimed wildly that, "This is easy!" and recommended a liver flush.
This is the story of said flush and its results.
According to this flush, hubby needed to prep by doing two things - taking Standard Process phosfood and drinking raw organic apple juice. Gallstones are part calcium and part cholesterol balls. The bigger, harder ones are made of more calcium. Phosfood is a phosphorus supplement - and since calcium and phosphorous are on the see-saw together, when you bump your phosphorus up, you can drop the calcium (and thus, softening the gallstones). Otherwise, there is a component within raw organic apple juice that is called malic acid - this puppy shrinks those gallstones like nobody's beeswax.
He had to drink at least 6 cups (48 oz. +) of the apple juice for three days. Some flushes say that on the third day, you fast except for drinking apple juice, but the one we were following did not say that (which made hubby really happy because he loves food).
So, the night of the flush, I mixed up a lovely concoction (according to the directions of the flush) of 8 oz. organic extra virgin olive oil and the juice of a lemon and a half. I shook it up in a jar for him to slightly emulsify it. I don't know why. I just felt bad, I guess, and I thought this would make it look nicer.
He drank it around 10:00 p.m. and then he laid down on his right side (that's what we were told he ought to do) for 30 minutes. This was the time of nervousness. Up to this point, hubby has had severe issues with his gallbladder when he ate fat. And now he just drank a cup of olive oil. He was freaking out that he was going to have an attack. But don't worry, he didn't.
He tried to go to sleep. I kept twitching when I was falling asleep so I kept him awake, but hey, I could not help it. It's how I roll. Eventually he fell asleep, but it was a light sleep and not of very good quality.
At 4:00 a.m., he woke up. Since he was awake, he tried to go to the bathroom. No gallstones. But now he felt a little nauseous. He was sure it wasn't going to work and he was just going to barf his guts out.
At 7:00 a.m., he woke up again. Bathroom, yes. Gallstones, no.
At 9:00 a.m., he went in for another bathroom party and guess what? Gallstones, baby! Those gross little puppies were floating! We were not like other people who save them and put them on paper towels and take pictures of them, I am sorry to report to you. If you'd like, I'll tell you that they were green and small and floated.
After this, he decided to try to have a little bit of a pancake. It was the first time that he had eaten anything since August and his stomach didn't do flips and turns and churns and burgles. He was so happy he could have said, "Hooray." But I am more the spaz in the relationship, so he didn't say anything and I said, "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!".
At lunch he ate some other food and he said he felt normal. He was very happy about this.
At dinner he ate spicy food and even took a bite of my grass-fed burger (something that was an instant trigger for him before) and felt fine. (He's a daring fellow, eh? Actually, I don't think he could stand the smell of the deliciousness without giving it a try.)
He did say that he felt a little sore on his right side, but it was not the way that it used to be. I am happy to say that he thought it was not a big deal, although he initially thought it was going to kill him and his face off.
If you are going to do it, let me encourage you to try it. It's basically like you're just having a gulp of some delicious lemony dressing and just try to think that you're a brave, brave wild person and try to get through it.
We are more than a week out and he has had no gallbladder attacks (phew), lessened gallbladder pain (hooray! He says it is not the same pain. It's like it is a sore muscle. It used to be that when food touched his tongue, it would FREAK OUT.) and he is able to eat foods he was not daring to try before. He is going to do the flush again, this time the official Dr. Hulda Clark flush - to see if it will increasingly improve.
(Speaking of Hulda, do you know about this lady? She wrote a book called The Cure for All Diseases. She's very interesting indeed.)
I'll keep you posted.
Peace, love and flush that thang!
Ms. Daisy
Saturday, February 1, 2014
New Look!
Hello, friends!I just wanted to write to let you know I have a new blog look. I know most of you get your dose of Ms. Daisy emailed to you and as a result, you just get plain text (well...I mean, it is pink, so it does have some fancy to it, but you know what I mean.).
So, if you want to take a gander at what's up, check me out. Spicy.
http://www.pinksthinks.com
Peace, love and cheers to free time on a Saturday,
Ms. Daisy
(It must be the brownies.)
Baking Up Deception: Beet Brownies?
Ha-llo, lovies! I have crossed the line today, my dears. There was the line. Here am I. One hundred miles past. Do you have any idea what I have done? Let me tell you.
I have just made beet brownies.
Yes. I know. When I read the title of the recipe at first, I also threw up in my mouth.
But here is what happened - last week or so ago, I purchased some very dirty beety looking bunch of beets from my favorite local health store because I was absolutely DETERMINED to figure out something to do with beets. It would be so wonderful to like something about beets! I decided to do something. This is because beets, to me, are something like a foreign language. Something tremendously exotic, wild and foreign. I never had them growing up (I had never had guacamole either until I was probably 30, nor an avocado - those things were wild Mexican flavors and the family of origin's idea of going tremendously food party wild is using salt and pepper on hamburger.).
I looked on some websites for beet recipes and most of them came back to me in the form of pickled beets (gag), beets with arugula and goat cheese (barf my intestines out - not only do I hate beets, I think goat cheese smells like rotten diseased feet with yellow chunky fungus growing on them), and beet tartlets with goat cheese (more barf in the mouth). I hate beets. I know very often people describe them as "earthy". I consider this the most laughable understatement of the entire world. Eating a bit of beets to me is something akin to me going out to the backyard in the spring, opening my mouth wide as can be and thrusting my whole face into the garden dirt while shaking my head back and forth in an effort to apparently find worms and compete with the local robins. I don't taste the "sweetness" that people talk of. I taste 100% straight up dirt.
I also feel the same about feta cheese. Well, not the dirt part. It's more like the sentiment I feel for goat cheese (= chunky rotten yellow foot fungus). But wouldn't it be so sophisticated to like it? I think so. However, alas, I have failed at all attempts. Add it to the pile with lamb. Sad.
So, more than my hate for beets is the absolutely disturbing nature of the thought of wasting anything. I couldn't waste the beets. I had to do something.
And then I came across the recipe for beet brownies. After my initial reaction of yelling at the computer and telling it how absolutely horrid and disgusting it was, I decided that if I could hide beets in chocolate, maybe people would eat it. Maybe I would even eat it. Maybe. And if I couldn't, my littles would.
I mean, can you even THINK of a weirder thing to put in your brownies? I had my hubby guess "what is the weird ingredient I put into the brownies" game and he came up with some also disgusting things, namely onions (wow, yep, that would be gross), broccoli (also hideous) and squash. Worse, worse and WORSE, I cried!
When I told him, he said beets were not worse. I suppose that may be in the eye of the beholder?
Anyway, I made this recipe with my littlest little who didn't know what beets were, so when we added this red puree to the mix, he merely said, "Mmm!" (Although, I must warn you - oldest little jumped for rejoicing joy at the sight of my hubby bringing home cereal - I never buy the stuff. Do you know what treat caused such great delight and spaztastic overwhelming titillation? Erewhon Buckwheat and Hemp cereal. No, I am not kidding. He asked if he could have it for dessert after dinner. We may have realized at that time that perhaps our children have either a very advanced palate, or are a teensy bit food sheltered. Must be advanced palate.)
At any rate, This is the very adorable, fantastic website I found this creative recipe on: The Way To My Family's Heart blog. (Obviously she's creative - she made beet brownies! )
I tweaked it just a teensy bit, Ms. Daisy style. Here it is:
3 organic beets, peeled
3 free-range, large eggs
3 tbsp. organic molasses
1 cup organic cane sugar
1/2 cup organic coconut oil
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/4 cup cocoa powder (Now organic brand, GMO free)
3/4 cup freshly ground organic spelt berries flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp kosher or sea salt
1 smashed up bar of dark chocolate (72%), without soy lecithin
In a medium saucepan, cover the beets with water by an inch. Place the pot over medium high heat and bring the water to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer the beets until they are soft enough to easily be pierced through the center with a knife, about 25 minutes. Drain the beets and puree them (I used a blender). You may need to add a tablespoon or two of water to the beets to get them to puree smoothly, add only what you need. Set the beet puree aside to cool.
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
In a large bowl whisk together the eggs, oil, and sugars. Add the vanilla extract and beet puree and whisk to fully combine. Mix the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt into the wet ingredients. Stir in the smashed bits of chocolate bar.
Pour the batter into a 8x8 inch baking pan. Bake for about 40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the brownies comes out clean but still moist. There you have it.
She is a genius, for sure. I ate beets. (Yes, never mind that they were hidden inside of brownies.) And I can only barely think of the garden (it may not help to continually repeat the words, "There are beets in these brownies, there are beets in these brownies..." while you chew.) and it's dirty dirt flavor. Seriously, you should try them. Even you, Julie D. They don't beat your G-brownies, but hey - can you think of any other way to trick your family into consuming beets? Exactly my point.
Peace, love and make sure you're wearing your patchouli while consuming these,
Ms. Daisy
I have just made beet brownies.
Yes. I know. When I read the title of the recipe at first, I also threw up in my mouth.
But here is what happened - last week or so ago, I purchased some very dirty beety looking bunch of beets from my favorite local health store because I was absolutely DETERMINED to figure out something to do with beets. It would be so wonderful to like something about beets! I decided to do something. This is because beets, to me, are something like a foreign language. Something tremendously exotic, wild and foreign. I never had them growing up (I had never had guacamole either until I was probably 30, nor an avocado - those things were wild Mexican flavors and the family of origin's idea of going tremendously food party wild is using salt and pepper on hamburger.).
I looked on some websites for beet recipes and most of them came back to me in the form of pickled beets (gag), beets with arugula and goat cheese (barf my intestines out - not only do I hate beets, I think goat cheese smells like rotten diseased feet with yellow chunky fungus growing on them), and beet tartlets with goat cheese (more barf in the mouth). I hate beets. I know very often people describe them as "earthy". I consider this the most laughable understatement of the entire world. Eating a bit of beets to me is something akin to me going out to the backyard in the spring, opening my mouth wide as can be and thrusting my whole face into the garden dirt while shaking my head back and forth in an effort to apparently find worms and compete with the local robins. I don't taste the "sweetness" that people talk of. I taste 100% straight up dirt.
I also feel the same about feta cheese. Well, not the dirt part. It's more like the sentiment I feel for goat cheese (= chunky rotten yellow foot fungus). But wouldn't it be so sophisticated to like it? I think so. However, alas, I have failed at all attempts. Add it to the pile with lamb. Sad.
So, more than my hate for beets is the absolutely disturbing nature of the thought of wasting anything. I couldn't waste the beets. I had to do something.
And then I came across the recipe for beet brownies. After my initial reaction of yelling at the computer and telling it how absolutely horrid and disgusting it was, I decided that if I could hide beets in chocolate, maybe people would eat it. Maybe I would even eat it. Maybe. And if I couldn't, my littles would.
I mean, can you even THINK of a weirder thing to put in your brownies? I had my hubby guess "what is the weird ingredient I put into the brownies" game and he came up with some also disgusting things, namely onions (wow, yep, that would be gross), broccoli (also hideous) and squash. Worse, worse and WORSE, I cried!
When I told him, he said beets were not worse. I suppose that may be in the eye of the beholder?
Anyway, I made this recipe with my littlest little who didn't know what beets were, so when we added this red puree to the mix, he merely said, "Mmm!" (Although, I must warn you - oldest little jumped for rejoicing joy at the sight of my hubby bringing home cereal - I never buy the stuff. Do you know what treat caused such great delight and spaztastic overwhelming titillation? Erewhon Buckwheat and Hemp cereal. No, I am not kidding. He asked if he could have it for dessert after dinner. We may have realized at that time that perhaps our children have either a very advanced palate, or are a teensy bit food sheltered. Must be advanced palate.)
At any rate, This is the very adorable, fantastic website I found this creative recipe on: The Way To My Family's Heart blog. (Obviously she's creative - she made beet brownies! )
I tweaked it just a teensy bit, Ms. Daisy style. Here it is:
3 organic beets, peeled
3 free-range, large eggs
3 tbsp. organic molasses
1 cup organic cane sugar
1/2 cup organic coconut oil
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/4 cup cocoa powder (Now organic brand, GMO free)
3/4 cup freshly ground organic spelt berries flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp kosher or sea salt
1 smashed up bar of dark chocolate (72%), without soy lecithin
In a medium saucepan, cover the beets with water by an inch. Place the pot over medium high heat and bring the water to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium and simmer the beets until they are soft enough to easily be pierced through the center with a knife, about 25 minutes. Drain the beets and puree them (I used a blender). You may need to add a tablespoon or two of water to the beets to get them to puree smoothly, add only what you need. Set the beet puree aside to cool.
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
In a large bowl whisk together the eggs, oil, and sugars. Add the vanilla extract and beet puree and whisk to fully combine. Mix the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt into the wet ingredients. Stir in the smashed bits of chocolate bar.
Pour the batter into a 8x8 inch baking pan. Bake for about 40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the brownies comes out clean but still moist. There you have it.
She is a genius, for sure. I ate beets. (Yes, never mind that they were hidden inside of brownies.) And I can only barely think of the garden (it may not help to continually repeat the words, "There are beets in these brownies, there are beets in these brownies..." while you chew.) and it's dirty dirt flavor. Seriously, you should try them. Even you, Julie D. They don't beat your G-brownies, but hey - can you think of any other way to trick your family into consuming beets? Exactly my point.
Peace, love and make sure you're wearing your patchouli while consuming these,
Ms. Daisy
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