Fire cider

Have you ever heard of fire cider?  Neither had I until something like last night.

I read the ingredients and thought, "Oh wow, that totally sounds like it tastes like dog butt!" (Pardon my French.)  And then my second thought was, "I am pretty sure that is the most powerful combination of germ killers in the entire natural world all in one place.  I am going to make it in case anyone gets sick."

So here I am.  I bought the horseradish root today along with some whole turmeric root, but besides that I had the rest of the ingredients.  I began my experimentation just an hour or so ago.

I had to step away from my culinary processes because my eyes were burning out and tears were involuntarily pouring from my face.  Am I making you want to try this?  I bet!

I think you probably have to have some serious uh...cojones...to try this thing.  I don't think I actually fall into that category, but since I want to, well, ain't no stoppin' me, baby.

So what the heck is in this stuff, you sit by and wonder in bewilderment?  Let me tell you what my version contained and then I'll link you over to the original (and perhaps traditional) recipe. Mountain Rose Herb's fire cider recipe.

I chopped up the following like a wild, sassy, sous chef:

1 insanely wild ginger root the size of my hand
1 long crazy turmeric root that looked like a smallish carrot
8 cloves of garlic (I minced these to near squoosh)
1.5 organic onions (I had a half of one left over, hey, why not toss it in?)
1 piece of horseradish root about 7 inches long and 1" in diameter on its wider side
2 lemons, juiced and then their rinds ripped apart like I was a T-Rex
several shakes of organic dried rosemary (I think of rosemary and instantly the words "woody stalk" come to mind.  Why? Probably the hair dye.)

That totally insane pile of anti-inflammatory, anti-viral, anti-biotic, anti-fungal, anti-bad germ anything all went into a glass jar.  Actually, two.  The jars were not so huge, so I thought it would be more appropriate to split them up.

Then, and only then, did I pour so much organic Braggs apple cider vinegar all over that stink pile that it came to the top.  I put a piece of parchment paper in between the liquid and the jar lid as I'm pretty sure that stuff could eat a hole in your sidewalk if left for enough time.  I shook it up and then took a picture of it.  I think this step is optional, but I bet most people do it.

Now, according to the directions, I'm supposed to shake it daily but keep it in a cool, dry place for a month.  At that point, you strain out the stuff (since the lady at Mountain Rose Herbs said it will start disintegrating) and keep the liquid.  You then pour a whole hot mess of local organic honey into it so that you don't die when you taste it.  Well, she didn't say that part, that was me.

And then, if anyone threatens illness around you, you just grab a teaspoon and your handy dandy fire cider jar and follow after them and they will miraculously get better (either because they are terrified that you will make them sip it or because it will work on them).

So, what do you think?  Totally crazy?  I guess people swear by it.  I'll try anything...once.  Maybe more if it is good.  Check it out below, a famous herbalist who lives in the mountains is going to show you her version of it, if you'd like to see what your eyes couldn't believe someone would concoct in print - here it is on video.

On that note, gonna go shake my fire cider.

Peace, love and are you feeling well today?
Ms. Daisy

Oh my gosh, I got a Twitter account.

Horrifying, right?

I totally agree.

Okay, let me explain.  As you likely know, I left facebook quite a while ago and it was nearly the most liberating things I have done in my entire life.  So why am I picking up another stupid social media vice?

Honestly?  To argue with idiots, I think.

I know.  That's the same thing as facebook.  (But facebook has more pictures of people's breakfasts.)

Well, whatever.  Maybe in like two hours I'll decide it was too stupid to pursue.  Maybe the orange hair chemicals have seeped into my brain and have made my previously clean brain tainted beyond recognition.  Either way, it is what it is.

If you're on there and want to peek, you'll find me @daisyglitters.  If you don't have a Twitter account, I suppose I ought to say by all means, and for heaven's sake, don't start now.  

Peace, love and submit this as evidence not to dye your hair,
Ms. Daisy

 

I have orange hair. Organic hair color FAIL.

Think of your worst nightmare.  Is it that you have orange hair?  No, no, no.  I didn't say red, nor did I say auburn.  I said orange.  See the color of the blogger thingy?  Yeah.  Orange.

Well, that might not be your worst nightmare, but it is mine, and NOW, it is MY REALITY.

Yes.  I am Ronald McDonald's sister.  I am Carrot Top's cousin.  Except they have the complexion to pull it off and I have three colors I can never wear.  They are: orange, yellow and brown.

I can't wear my head.

What did I do?

Yes.  Really.  What did I do!

Well, it all started because blonde hair is so awesome.  You know how I am obsessed with blonde hair.  I love blonde hair.  I used to have blonde hair!  Well, that is, until it turned brown.  I let it all grow out because I was soooooooooo freaked out about the chemicals.  And then I had sad sad brown hair.  That sad brown hair I would pay $250 to get back right now.

But for the last two years I decided I had to give up and forget about blonde hair.  I let it all grow out to its natural state.  It was a sad state of very medium brown-ness with some auburn highlights.  But it was not good enough.  Who wants brown hair when you can have BLONDE!

I changed my mind when I started reading about organic hair color.  I was avoiding it all because of the ammonia, the dyes and the chemicals.  But if there was really an organic color that worked, DUDE SIGN ME UP RIGHT NOW.

I looked for a salon that was around that carried it.  I found one about 30 miles away. I got a babysitter.  I researched it.  I specifically asked the owner, "This works for brown hair to change it to blonde, right?  No orange, right?  I don't want orange.  I don't want strawberry blonde.  I don't want Ronald McDonald.  I want ASH.  Can it do this?"

"Yes."  said the liar.

I made the appointment.  I skipped out of the house just imagining how I would come back in, blonde flowing locks behind me, just ready for summer.  What a great day this would be.

Well, except for the dog barfing a pile of grass on the carpet.

I told lots of friends, "Next week I will be blonde!"

I texted a picture of myself to the hubby saying something along the lines of sayonara, brown hair!!!!!!

I went in to the salon.  The owner was going to personally do my hair.  Should be great.  Color blobbed on.  Under the dryer 30 minutes.

Ding!

Wash.  I say, "I'm really surprised.  Usually my hair takes about 1 hour and 40 minutes and that's with bleach, so this stuff must be really amazing."

Rinse.  Dry.  Hair is half of a shade lighter than its current self.  It is brown.

Um.  ?  Dude?  Please make my hair blonde.

Applies another color layer.  Sloshes it all over my head.  Wait 30 minutes under the dryer.  Ding!

Rinse.  Dry.  I HAVE ORANGE HAIR.

"Dude.  I am panicking.  Do SOMETHING.  I said NO ORANGE."

The dude says, "Oooh!  You want blonde!!!!!!  Oh!  You need bleach then!"

Me: "No.  You said your product would work.  I am Ronald McDonald right now.  Fix it.  I can't do this."

Dude puts bleach highlights on my orange hair.

Sooooo much better!  I now have orange and yellow hair!  WOW!  SO GOOD.  I HAVE STRIPES!  Thank goodness.  This is so much better.  False.

Tomorrow I'm getting brown hair again.

Moral of the story: Live with your horrifyingly stupid brown hair.  It may be totally ugly and boring, but at least you don't look like a GMO clown.

Peace, love and the helpful little told me to shave my head,
Ms. Daisy

Amazing Errors

Having a slight obsession with grammar, I am always on the lookout for fun and entertaining spelling, punctuation, or grammatical errors.  When I find such a thing, I document it (if possible).  

Why, just last week I nearly drove off of the road for such a thing.  It was garbage day in the neighborhood I was driving through.  People had their garbage bins all lined up along the side of the road (a moderately busy road, mind you).  In this area, you must distinguish your general run-of-the-mill garbage from your compost on the outside of your bin.  This is usually done by painting the word "compost" or some such thing on the outside of the bin so the guys know which to bother with at the time.

But this day I was to see such a sight that has never been seen (by me, anyway).  A sight that would forever be burned into the minds of those who had beheld it - a wonder of wonders.  I saw a garbage bin with large yellow lettering that said, 

"YARD WAIST".

Are there ever TRULY any words to express what goes through one's mind when such a thing is witnessed?  My 8 year-old asked me, "What does that even mean?"  Usually for me it is something along the lines of, "Oh wonder of wonders, they did NOT just do that.  That is AMAZING!  Children, LOOK!  Look at the horror!!  We're drivivng too fast to take a picture!  Shall we turn around?"  And then I feel the pressing urge to knock on their door just to get a glance at what kind of special person they are so that my mind can conceive the depths of how this would be possible.  I want to ask if they are one of the people who were educated in the illustrious Detroit public schools (and therefore have a 50% chance of being illiterate).

Well.  It's not just on garbage cans, love.  Yesterday there was a storm and the sirens were going off so I flicked on the tube to see if we were having a run of the mill storm or a tornado.  After they reported that we were just indeed having a severe storm, they had a piece about how Magic Johnson was criticizing Donald Sterling (you know, the guy who they are going to force to sell his NBA team for making private comments to his girlfriend in his own home?) for his opinion on HIV/AIDS (now I like Magic - he went to the best college in the nation and everything, but the fact is that he got HIV from sleeping around with so many women while playing in the NBA: not a very upstanding background).  The caption read,

"Magic Johnson cricizes Sterling".

He whats?

I couldn't decide - do I take a picture of it?  If I run to the other room to get a camera, will the caption be gone?  Should I just keep reading it aloud and staring at the wonder?  I was frozen as if in front of an accident.  The caption cleared off of the screen and I ran to do what I usually do in such a situation.  Write an email.

Dear _______ (news people),

Perhaps you are unaware, but during your piece about Magic, the caption contained a misspelling of the word "criticize".

Not to criticize... ;)
Ms. Daisy

Response:

Of course there are many hard-working writers and producers scrambling to write an incredible amount of news each day.  Having produces newscasts for nearly 25 years, I know each strives to be letter perfect.

Believe me, no one is more aghast at any misspellings than the one who made the typo.

Sincerely,
Mr. Producer*

Me:  Did he just write "having produces"?  Should I correct that?  Putting bets on Mr. Producer* as the editor of captions...  I never knew news could be so entertaining!

(* Names have been changed to protect the reputation of Detroit public schools.)

Keep your eyes open and your brain clear of pesticides!

Peace, love and entertainment,
Ms. Daisy

PR-ing your run: 5k strategy

Hey peeps!  How goeth it?

What a weekend.  I had a 5K run on Saturday and then we had the non-holiday here called "Mother's Day" (LOL) in the U.S. of A., where you get to still correct your children all day long, do the dishes, make the meals and pretty much do everything you have to do every single other day of the year.  It's great.  Mostly it serves to make mothers irritated because they wish that they could have a day off (and they secretly hope that Mother's Day would be it), however, year after year, it is still just another epic fail.

So, happy freakin' Mother's Day out there to all of you mothers, but a toast of pink moscato with frozen organic berries in slushie form to all of you who had to do the stinkin dishes anyway.

Moving on.

Back to the race.  I was sort of training for the 5K, but not as much as I usually do for such things.  I enjoy making a thing of it and forcing myself to run about 4-5 times a week but this time I kinda failed at that and prior to the run on Saturday, I had run once about 8 days before.  Someone at the pool suggested that I was tapering.

Yes.  Tapering.

More like my cousin's secret trick for triathlons - he calls his training "non-training".

It works for him.

I was running about once or twice a week from January on - the weather was not really cooperative this year and I don't have clothing that works for -30F temps.  I mean, I could go running in my snow pants, but it's kind of bulky and the whole running with snow boots on is a workout I don't really enjoy.  Because of this, I did not feel very exceptionally prepared, but somehow, glory to God, it worked out anyway.

My usual practice runs for distances of around 3-5 miles have an average pace of about 7:45 min/mile.  I can run much quicker on adrenaline, however.  My first mile of the half marathon I did clocked in at 7:00 even and I figured I should chill it out a bit since I had only 12.1 miles left to go.  (At mile 12 I wanted nothing more than to lay down and take a nap.)  My usual 5k time lands usually somewhere in the 23 minute range.

Before I did the race on Saturday, I read an article on Friday about an experiment that was done with some college women runners.  They got a baseline pace and then started their first mile at 6% faster, 3% faster, and 0% faster to compare their results. They found that half of the runners did better at a 6% increase and the other half did better at a 3% increase - some of them even PR'ed with this method (average around mid twenty minute results).  

If you're a runner, you always ALWAYS hear about negative splitting your miles.  I read the research and decided to try the positive split method.  Basically, you pull a crazy first mile and then hang on to your pace for the last two.  You know with a 5K being such a short race that your torture will be over shortly - and on the flip side, if you think about it, you really can't make up a minute or whatever somewhere else in the race.

I put myself up near the front (it wasn't an enormous race - no Kenyans) of about 500 racers and psyched myself up.  The ipod was pumping, the intimidation vibes were being sent out to any females nearby with my stretching and jumping around maneuvers (yeah, well, not really, but whatever, it helps me somewhow to think so).  The countdown began - 5, runners, 4, 3, on your marks, 2, 1 go!  I blasted off, adrenaline extending to my fingernails, heart pumping out of my ribcage, mouth drier than dirt (I actually was moving my tongue all over to try to see if it was going to dry up and fall out - this was a good distraction for a moment).  I kept my eyes up and tailed those seven guys in front of me (well, except for #1 who was 25 years old, about 7 feet tall and weighed something like 124 pounds and had those special arm sleeves and leg thingies - he was out of sight of everyone in about 4 minutes).  

Mile one came.  Check the watch.  6:30.  Woah.  Yeah, I guess that's faster than normal.  Is it too fast?  I'll find out.

Here came the out and back turnaround - I looked at my watch at that point and then the adrenaline in my brain made me promptly forget all about it (very useful).  Starting to get tired.  Dizzy.

Mile 2.  Really?  Oh man.  Okay, come on.  I can hear the people on the opposite side cheering for me...sort of...the music in the ipod was loud.  I was focusing on not passing out - stuff was getting fuzzy in the vision.

Am I at mile 3 yet?  Breathe.  Don't pass out. It would be embarassing.

Distraction #2: Is that pee going down my leg?  Please tell me I'm not starting my period right now.  Oooh, that would also be embarassing.  Then I pictured myself running and thinking of that thought - then what other people would be thinking.  Should I nonchalantly grab a leaf from the ground and find a way to keep running and use it if necessary?  It would be organic...

Yes, the thoughts of runners are a bit bewildering.  I'm just keepin' it real.

Then I saw it.  On the ground - a bouncy, flippy ponytail shadow coming my way.  NO!!!  Distraction #3 was on the way.  Mile 3 - high school cross country runner is trying to pass me.  No,  no, no, no, no.  I am in 1st place for women...no, no, no, no...  Don't want to give it up.

Aaaaaaaaaand Miss 85 pound teenager bounds past, ponytail cheerfully bouncing.  I stare at her hamstrings.  Holy cow, her leg is the size of my arm.  She is a running skeleton.  Holy cow.  Look at that thing.  It's sticking OUT of the back of her leg every time she lands.  Mesmerizing.  Now hypnotized by the hamstring.

Around the curve - the finish line is in sight.  

I remind myself to push to finish.  Um, I can't.  I am.  Ugh!  GO!

I cross the line - chip calls me 21:59, gun calls me 22:01.  2nd place women's overall, 10th to finish overall.  I figure it is a good time to lay on the soft cement now.

Yay.  It's over.  Poo, she beat me.  Yay, I cleared my best time ever.

The positive split worked.

Next time, I'll start out fast again.  And maybe I'll practice running in Depends.

Peace, love and yes, I do know 2nd place is the first loser, but it got me a medal anyway, 
(and seriously - I wish I could show you the freakish vision of hamstrings burned on my mind - it was ALIEN, I tell you, alien!)
Ms. Daisy 

Hippie Diva at Plato's Closet

I have just discovered for myself...Plato's Closet.  Yes, yes, all of you out there the world over know and have been one MILLION times, but I just went for the first time this week.

If you're wondering what on earth Plato's Closet is, let me summarize it for you this way: someone smart realized that teenagers cannot bear to wear the same clothes more than five times, so they made up a retail store that only accepts higher end clothing, with a surprising amount of clothing with the original tags still on them.  

(You were originally thinking it had something to do with Aristotle, Archimedes and Homer, but alas, no, you were a teense off.  Oh wait, never mind, that is what first sprung to my mind.  Not really.)  But I did wonder where they got the idea of Plato. Maybe because he was so dang smart and so are they?

But I digress.  

But seriously.  I am fairly certain I have been wearing the same jeans (outside of pregnancy) for the last six years.  Maybe longer.  My 22 inches of closet space contain amazing fashions circa 2007.  Now, I don't really care and I make it work anyway, but for $4.00, yes, I will take that glittery tag-still-on-it tank top from some place I would not even dream of shopping since I could get an entire 25 pound bag of wheat berries for the same price, thankyouverymuch.  Priorities, peeps, priorities.  

My hubby asked me, "Are you a diva or a hippie?"  I wondered why I couldn't be both at the same time. Mostly, the frugal hippie side takes over because it is making the most logical sense, but living happily beside Ms. Long Skirt is Ms. Pink Glitter Everything Who Would Dye Her Hair So Platinum Blond With A Pink Stripe In It In Two Seconds If It Weren't For All Of Those Chemicals.  Instead, here I am, hair looking healthy and brain cells intact, but weeping secretly inside everytime I see a fantastic blond color that would look totally amazing on my head.


Why, WHY did I ever read about the poisonous danger that is hair dye?  Blasted!!!  (This right here, my friends, is the ONLY down side I can see to being health educated.  I said it.)

But meanwhile, back to the Batcave of Plato's Closet.  It is a sad thing in one way - it shows the wastefulness of our society and speaks to that issue on a very tangible level.  But yet, it is a totally SCORE thing for me since hello - they have shirts there with glittering sequins.  Which begs the question, "What kind of people are these who don't want glittering shirts?"  Yeah, I know.  Now we have two things to ponder regarding the sad aspects of our society.

Well, I'm going to go think about that while I go score some more glittering deals.

Peace, love and you could probably empty your change purse and get something good,
Ms. Daisy

 

Randoms, Vol. VI

Hello, lovies!

Have some randoms.

#1:  I found a great grass stain remover that you can make homemade in about two seconds and it works in kind of an amazing way.  My dear little thought it would be a good idea to run around outside and play flag football (which obviously turned into tackle) in khaki dress pants.  OH GOODIE.  I washed the pants (trousers, sorry, you dear English people) in the washer and they looked 0% clean at first.  I went off to the interwebs to find a solution.  

The solution is: 2 blobs of hydrogen peroxide and 2 equal blobs of liquid dish soap.  I swirled it around with my finger (very professionally, I am pretty sure) and then poured it onto the grass stain and scrubbed it with a scrub brush.  Viola!  After 10 minutes, you can barely see any of it at all.  Hooray!  Thank you, interwebs!


#2:  I am quite sure I am the only one with this problem, except for maybe your grandmother - but, today I got notice that my operating system was no longer supported by Microsoft.  What?  How DARE they stop supporting XP?  It's only been like twelve years!  What-EVER.  I asked my computer friend, "Whatever shall I do?" and he replied, "Do not even THINK about putting Windows 7 or 8 onto that dinosaur.  It doesn't even have the minimum requirements."  Oh.  Yeah.  I was totally not thinking...of...um...doing...uh...that...

Shiny new Compy 386, here I come.

Seriously?  Also, we
are German.  See how
we capitalize "Locker Rooms".
No punctuation necessary.

#3:  I am always so thankful for this sign when I leave the locker room in the morning.  First of all, I just don't know what I would do without it!  You don't know HOW many times I've arrived at that door, bag all packed up, keys in hand, and just totally and utterly completely naked.  It saves me pretty much daily.  If I didn't have that sign, I suppose I may have just wandered out into the main workout areas in nothing but earrings!

This sign is brought to you by the special people who had the "climate" sign posted.  

Golly, every time I think of it I get warm fuzzies all over.  Just pondering the fact that it is there soars me to glorious new heights about the state of our society.  Wow.  

Such a splendid world!

Peace, love, and maybe I should put one of these signs on my own back door,
Ms. Daisy

Detroit: The Third World Country of Michigan

Detroit has issues.  Serious ones.

You've likely heard the gorgeous city has gone bankrupt.  You've likely heard that the governor of Michigan had to send in an emergency manager to keep it from splitting apart at the seams.

Maybe you've heard they have no money to pay their police officers, firefighters and other such offices and you can call 911 and they will NEVER come.  

Maybe you're familiar with the 65% graduation rate for high schoolers in 2013.  This was actually cheered because it was a five percent increase over last year.  And as far as the general population of hot-spot Detroit, 25% of the population never finished high school.  Only 7% of 8th graders in DPS are proficient at reading according to CNS News, but this is even better than their scores in math.  Proficiency levels in math for 8th graders chills out right around 4%.  47% of the entire city is ILLITERATE.

You probably know Detroit scores a number one, though.  Number one for most violent crimes for cities above 200,000 people in all of America.  Winner, winner, chicken dinner.

Forbes has figured out several factors that create a "misery index" for different cities. Guess what, babies?  DETROIT IS NUMBER ONE IN THAT, TOO!

Thankfully, Detroit has a few saving graces - the Detroit Institute of Arts, the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, WRCJ FM, and um...uh...wait.  I know there's more.  Oh well, it will come to me later.

Besides that, the gigantic sprawling city is a near complete trash dump.  You cross the borders of the city and you can literally hear every person locking their car doors and cocking their concealed weapons.  

But hey, check out the real estate market.  Detroit has homes for you if you want them.  If you can buy something off of the dollar menu at McDonalds, you can buy a house.  There are plenty of houses for $1 in D-town.  You may be shocked, but at this price, it's actually a rip-off.

And this is exactly where you can get beaten to (near) death for stopping to help someone.  A 50ish year old man was driving down the street when a 10 or 11 year old boy leapt out (some are saying on purpose) directly in front of him.  After he was hit, the man stopped to help him.  His thanks for helping was to get beaten to almost death by a mob.

 If you want to see some hot footage of the awesome city, you can check this out:

Yes, it is a city, even though most of it is vacant now and people are starting farms since there is so much open land.  They are finding quail and beavers in Detroit.  Pheasant are common.

Why don't people from the suburbs want to go down there and spend money?  Why don't businesses want to open up in Detroit?

Huh.  Kinda hard to figure out.

I'll tell you one thing that is embarassingly obvious - the whole throwing money at the situation hasn't worked.  Selling works out of the DIA to balance out the bankruptcy is even worse.  It seems that someone who maybe ISN'T from the city should get in there and fix things, especially considering the 1) repuation of the city, 2) the education of the city, and 3) the desperate situation the city is in.  But the people of the city in the past haven't wanted "outside" help.  It's time to do something.

To continue on this way is unconsionable and abusive.  I recommend recalling every person in the Detroit City Council (have you ever seen the youtubes of them screaming and yelling each other like they're trying out for Jerry Springer?).  Check out their cool antics on this video:

Do you wonder how they got there?  Maybe they were voted in there by a city of people where half of the population can't read.  

It is time to do something different because I'm pretty sure this doesn't seem to be working.

Peace, love and clean it up,
Ms. Daisy

Why don't you want to inject your newborn with mercury again?

Hello there, friends!  What's the haps?  Today I've got an issue that I'm sure - no matter which side of the fence you're on - you have a passionate stance.

It's even bigger than the how long you should nurse debate.  It's bigger than even the should you work or stay at home (as a mom) debate (yeah, that's right, and that's pretty much one that can rip heads off).  Since I said it's bigger than that you likely already know what I'm talking about today - the big "V" (no, not vasectomy) - vaccinations.

Now hold up, homies.  I'm not here to get your blood all boiling over.  You clearly have facebook for such nonsense.  This time I'm not here to sway your thoughts in one way or the other (although anyone who has any brain knows the RIGHT way to go on this...oh, what!  Did I just say that?  No, no, I didn't mean that.  I just meant anyone who has any love for their own child.  You know, as in NOT an insanely brain-damaged poop face ninny?  Wait, CRAP!  It always gets heated.  Back to the issue.).

Seriously, though.  There is one thing we do all agree on.  And that is that a parent has a right to raise his or her child in the way that they choose.  You may not agree with it, you may even think them a complete insanely brain-damaged poop face ninny, but when it comes down to it, we link arms, raise a glass and high five each other for freedom to do what we believe is right for our own offspring.

There was a piece recently in the oh-so unbiased (try not to pee your pants with laughter) New York Times from a physician stating that groupthink is best, betas wear khaki and for the good of all, you need to shut down parent's rights and vaccinate every living and breathing two-legger on the planet.  Now even if you do vaccinate your children, and you agree with her side regarding vaccinating, you likely don't support such Hitler regime/Crusade-like tactics.  (Forcing people into stuff always works out for the forcers, eh?)  

I found a response to that article that I'd love for you to read.  It is written by a mom named Megan who also happens to be an attorney, a naturopath and who also does NOT have a microwave (HIGH FIVE, BABY!!!).  She intelligently expresses her response to the NYT article and walks you down the road of actual factual documentation of why you may just want to perhaps consider what you are shooting up into your child's bloodstream.  

(And hey, if you research those ingredients and the side effects and you totally are on board with doing it, good for you - because at LEAST you are educated.)

Here is a link to her article that you should check out:http://www.livingwhole.org/a-parents-response-to-the-new-york-times-article-eliminate-vaccine-exemptions/

If nothing else, you can say that you've heard of two people in the modern world (who are not 100 years old) who don't have a microwave.

Peace, love and I brought you into this world, and I'll...oh, you know the rest,
Ms. Daisy

Get the Gunk Gone

Buenos días, amigos.  Perhaps you have noticed that most people fall ill in the wintry, frozen, frigid months.  I dislike the cold as much as anyone.  I dislike getting a cold even more.

One way I stay warm - crawl all the way in.

Anyway.

Perhaps you are looking for some good immune boosters as we forge through the longest and coldest and snowiest winter in the history of the entire universe?  (Can you hear my teeth clench as I speak the last bit there?  I thought so.)

What to do?  How to fight the germs?

Here are a few things you can get your (hopefully not grubby little) hands on.

Ready?

1.  Exercise.  Really.  I know, you were so totally looking for me to say "eat more ______"  (and don't you worry, I will), but you have got to get your booty out there and sh-sh-shake it shake it, come on, shake shake it.  Yep, f'realies.  Moderate exercise is a good idea for so many reasons - it moves your lymphatic system around (you don't want that lymph just sitting in its little puddle there, wallowing and slodging around inside you).  It doesn't have a pump besides your fabulous muscles.  So, c'mon, homeboy/girl, get it going.  And what about your cardiovascular benefits?  Healthy heart, healthy happy lungs, I  think so.  Regarding personal antedotal evidence, any time I have the very first inkling of a bit of a sniffle and I go for a run, it hacks itself right out of me and I don't get sick.  Now, if you're already full blown sick, heck no, skip that (OBVS).  You're just going to end up some kind of tired puppy and blasting your poor T-cells.  But avoid it as much as possible by giving your body a lift with some exercise.

2.  Don't eat crap.  (This reminds me of a very weird question someone asked me, "Would you rather eat high fructose corn syrup or poop?"  Do you know what I said?  "Whose poop?"  It all depends, you see!)  No, really.  Sugar and its buddies will feed those little germsicles in your body faster than you can say Jack Robinson.  Or maybe even faster than you can say "hi".  Either one is pretty fast.  And so is the feeding of nasty germs if you're going to shove your mouth with sweets.  You know how all those tiny micro-organisms grow, right?  They LOVE sugar!  Just think of bread yeast. All those little creatures think sugar is the bomb.  And if you're addicted to the narcotic (yeah, I'm being totally serious), then you should at the very least break your crack addiction for a while if you're starting to come down with something (or if you already have - stat).  Feed your body fabulous healthy things it can use and digest well.  (If you get sick, get your hands on some Bieler Broth: a very nourishing, body boosting green soup.  Look up the recipe, but it is basically steamed zucchini, green beans, celery.  You keep the steaming water to add to the mix.  Add parsley at the end.  Stick everything into a blender and feed it to your sick ones.  The original recipe does not call for salt, but I must have it with some good Celtic grey.  It has all the right minerals in balance for you and is extremely bioavailable.)

3.  Suck down garlic like you hate Team Edward with a passion.  My friend went to a weekend retreat and everyone there was getting hit with the sickies.  She ordered an  entire clove of garlic, roasted, and ate it.  She was THE ONLY ONE who didn't get sick.  That stuff is crazy powerful.  Maybe everyone just ran away from her because she was stinky.  Not sure.  But either way, she didn't get sick, did she now?  No, garlic is a powerful force to be reckoned with.  Not only is it famous for its anti-inflammatory properties, it is anti-carcinogenic, anti-bacterial, anti-viral, it powerfully assists in the uptake of iron, while serving as an excellent source of Vitamin C, B6, manganese and selenium.  It is a cheerleader for your heart, high in sulfur compounds making it a knockout in the cardio section.  It is nearly a complete and utter wonder.  And don't get the stuff in a jar.  Get the real deal and crush it.  Studies show the potency and efficacy of these properties are vastly different in garlic from a glass jar versus the clove you just crushed fresh.  (Duh.)

4.  What time is it?   Are you up at an an ungodly hour right now?  GO TO BED.  This is me, talking directly to you.  Get appropriate sleep.  Yes.  Like 8 hours.  If you are nursing a baby, I know that is not going to happen with a wee teeny one, but the rest of you, shut off your stinkin computer/phone/tablet/TV and GO TO BED.  Your body is able to to its job when you aren't burning your candle at both ends.  Go to bed at a reasonable time and get the sleep you need.  What a surprise it is another one of the biggies for boosting your immune system (or killing it if you go the voluntary insomnia path - oh, and speaking of insomnia.  If you feel that you are having a bit of insomnia, may I recommend that you re-read point #1 again?  If you are having trouble sleeping and you have run 5 miles that day, please come talk to me.  I am pretty sure that you can pass out just fine when you've exerted yourself enough.)

5.  Avoid anti-bacterial soap like IT IS THE PLAGUE.  Wash your hands with real soap, like castile stuff.  May I recommend Dr. Bronner's Peppermint Castile soap?  The stuff is AH-mazing.  Were you surprised for two seconds there that I said don't use anti-bacterial stuff?  Well, hang around here for a bit, kid, and I'll kick that notion straight out of your head.  You do know that the FDA is just beginning to recall and investigate stuff with triclosan in it, right?  That's the anti-bac ingredient.  It's pretty much worthless, no, wait, less than worthless - it also screws up your endocrine system.  Read this ditty from the FDA on triclosan.  Don't be so 1990.  Anti-bac is the thing of the past.  Dump that junk like it's hot.

6.  Get yer Vitamin D.  However you can get it, do it.  If you can go and get some sunshine (and there aren't too many planes playing stratospheric geoengineering up there), do it.  If you live in the land of the white sky of perpetual cloud wonder, get your hands on some good (NON-LAB CREATED) Vitamin D.  I personally take the Garden of Life brand with a sun on it - it is made of raw, whole foods that your body can recognize when it enters your system.  A deficiency of D has been linked to cancers, especially breast cancer.  Help your body out.  

7.  Eat, drink and be merry with your ginger (and turmeric).  Those guys are incredible for anti-inflammatory responses.  Ready for another antedotal story?  My dear friend's mother has suffered with arthritis in her hand(s).  She was so unable to move, she decided she would go get one of those cortisone shots.  The shot was so painful she began debating whether or not she ought to just live with the pain and give up.  But she is a smart lady, and she minced up some turmeric root with some raw honey on a spoon and began taking it daily.  Wouldn't you know that HER ARTHRITIS WAS GONE after a very short time?  I'm not just flaunting it for arthritis and other inflammatory conditions within a body, it is a great helper when you're just starting to feel unwell.  Get out your potato peeler, shave off a little bit of that brown outside of your ginger and then cut away a little yellow piece to make into itty bitty pieces.  I like to put it in boiling water and smash it up with a fork to release the juices, add some raw honey and some squeezed lemon.  It is a tasty concoction and great for throat issues.

May you live well, m'dears!

Peace, love and grab health by the horns (um...if health had horns),
Ms. Daisy