In my last post, I wrote about how not to get sick, but I forgot to add two very important things.
1.) Drink lots and lots of good, filtered water to flush the nasty out of your body. 2.) Do not write a post about NOT getting sick, because then you will obviously be tested on this point and will wake up at 3:00 in the morning with a sore throat, wherein you will go slam some apple cider vinegar and gag.
Awesome. Merry Christmas Eve!
Peace, love, and can I have another shot, please, Ms. Daisy
'Tis the season for sick to swirl amongst the masses. With many family gatherings (and you have no idea what "many" is until you've met my peeps) and work parties, and boogery sniffling children at church who sneeze on the people in the pew in front of them - you have quite the chances of exposing yourself to utter plethoras of germy wonders. Why just last week, I got to hold a small actively barfing child. It's pretty much everywhere.
Must. Resist.
Must. Stop. The. Germs.
But how?
Well, I am not a doctor, although I pretty much pretend that I am, and in fact, at certain points in time I feel that I am at least 70% more awesomer (this grammatical structure is nearly proof of it RIGHT THERE) than doctors, so take my little plan of wonders however you want to take it.
But I digress.
Okay, so last week I was exposed to the boogery-est, most coughing in your face offsprings, and as I previously mentioned, as an extra bonus, I got to hold onto a barfing little. (Please mail all Awesome Mom Awards right this way.) I was pretty much bathing in germs, wearing them on my clothes, styling my hair with them, pushing them into my eyes and drinking them (tastes great with kombucha and chia seeds). Now it is okay to occasionally get sick, but it is not okay to get sick when you are supposed to have a weekend of double parties and host twenty something people in your eleven square foot house. You have to be legit healthy and halfway to crae crae with energy. I needed all of my faculties and then half of someone else's to pull this off. No sicky allowed!
What to do?
I pretty much went ballistic with every single immune boosting thing I could possibly think of. Let me share the list.
I started feeling the tickle thing in the back of my throat and then the weakness and the cold sweaty thing and I "oh no you didn't-ed" right over to my awesome non-pharmaceutical medicine cabinet and started with Cold Calm and a few squirts of Sovereign Silver. I popped Cold Calm every twenty minutes or so for two hours and I started feeling better - just in time for party #1 with the divas. I then proceeded to drink boiling water poured over chopped ginger, half a squeezed lemon, and a spoonful of raw honey (which probably wasn't "raw" anymore after I dunked it in that hot of water. Yeah.). Now you can't just waste that ginger, you gotta eat those spicy bits. Down the hatch. Luckily, my dear sweet friend made a turkey and she had roasted an entire bulb of garlic - so I threw a clove of that down the hatch too. Breath what?
The next day was filled with organic food sourced vitamin C, homemade chicken broth, more garlic, more ginger and a nap.
I was feeling better and better. I think I floated over and past the coughing, boogery wonders, and then the feeling in the stomach hit me.
Oh crap.
No-no-no-no-no-no-no to the exponential infinity power. It was T-minus twenty hours until the party at my house. Stress + lack of sleep = lowered immune system = I am in trouble. I was not going to restore loads of energy because there were still a pile of things to do (um, throw self across the floor playing volleyball in a league full of uber-competitive players, for one) and clean the house. This. Cannot. Be. Happening. WhatamIgonnado?
Don't panic. Eat a pile of ginger, drink a giant bottle of Kevita coconut kefir, and alternate chugging down the kombucha. Basically, ingest every probiotic possible. And pray to God for help.
God helped.
So far, I've made it out okay. If you ever are starting to feel sick, that is the time that you should boost your immunity, increase your probiotics, and consider it a serious job to get yourself some true nutrition (and see your food as serious instead of for fun - no sugar, just nutrient dense goodies).
Here's my quick cheat sheet for some suggestions to think about if you come across any of the common winter yucks.
Sore throat: - Sovereign silver squirts in the throat (Seriously? You don't have this yet? Run.) - shots of organic apple cider vinegar (with water if ya' ain't manly enough to take it straight) - and then slam down your cup and make a breathy, growly, manly sound while squinting your eyes in a way that may or may not be considered dramatically necessary - gargle a mixture of hot water, salt, and vinegar - netipot (stainless steel preferred, let's not BPA the inside of your brains) in case you have nasal drainage, which affects your throat - up the Vitamin C dose (>1000 mg/daily) - no sugar in your diet until it's gone (don't give the bad guys bullets)
Stuffy nose: - netipot (mine is here ) - Sinu-orega nasal spray (HOLY COW this works.)
- sniff at eucalyptus and peppermint essential oils - no sugar in your diet until it's gone - homemade chicken broth with onions, garlic, carrots, celery, and celtic grey sea salt
Yucky stomach: - drink a mazillion ounces of kombucha (this is an approximate dosage) - alternate with a bazillion ounces of coconut kefir (also approximate) - chomp up some whole ginger bits - avoid high fat/dairy or whatever else makes you feel worse - Bieler broth (steamed green beans, zucchini, parsley and celery with the water it steamed in, dropped in a blender until it is green soup mush)
The best way to float over the sickies is to have a good immune system in the first place. Keep exercising, eating well, getting enough sleep (>8 hours per night), and having a positive attitude.
In no time at all, you'll be up for secretly (or overtly) racing the other people in the pool and on the sidewalks.
I think most people operate under the assumption that for the most part, people are just like them. No matter how crazy weird you are, you just kind of think that you're normal and yeah, sure, maybe people don't all like the same things, but we're pretty much running standard quo-ish-esque. Right?
I have to admit that I do this same thing.
And then I am rather wildly shocked when people are not.
(See, even just typing that makes me realize how totally dumb it is. But I can't help it! I'm stuck in this paradigm! Aaaah! I can't get out!!)
The following blog will serve to prove the point about the weird people even thinking that they are normal.
Por ejemplo. I was in Costco and I have a curious habit of looking into other people's carts to see what kinds of interesting things they are buying. I mean, not like OCD ultra-compulsively or anything, but perhaps while standing in line and bored (since I don't have a smart phone to text/email/go into my own world away from society). I will glance on as the person in front of me hoists up their goods upon the conveyor and THAT is the time that I have this paradigm breakdown.
It goes something like this in my head.
"Oh my gosh! People really buy Honeycomb cereal! (And cereal in general? Do people actually BUY cereal? Why? It has no nutritional value at all. Maybe they're making crafts with it. He clearly needs glue.) That's so funny. I didn't think people bought cereal anymore. Huh. How about that. Wow, what's that? He's buying white buns? Maybe he's planning on poisoning the pigeons or something, since that is full of high fructose corn syrup, partially hydrogenated oils, and various other non-food ingredients. That guy over there has some Perdue chicken. Maybe he doesn't know about the dark and window-less aluminum houses, the mini-backhoes to scoop up the dead ones, and the minimum waged workers who care nothing about the animals. I suppose he does a lot of physical activity to sweat out the arsenic."
And then I'm driving home and I look and see that there are cars at McDonald's. People really still go there? I thought that was so like, five minutes ago. No, seriously. I am genuinely surprised that it is still in business. I mean, if I think outside of my box, it could possibly be a business running in the black. Why? How is this possible? What are those people DOING there? Do they seriously NOT KNOW? There are only two people I know who say they go to McDonalds - my mother (for their coffee and to torture me), and Julie when she is pregnant for the Angus burgers. (Now wrap your head around the fact that SHE LOSES WEIGHT when she does this. Julie, seriously. How do you do it?)
Why is this person buying flour? Did their grain mill break? Oh. Wait. Maybe they don't have a grain mill. They should call me! They could totally come over and grind some flour.
And then I will be in a conversation with someone and they nonchalantly mention that they took Tylenol/aspirin/prescription meds/Nyquil/Advil/etc. Do you know that scratched record sound? Umm...what?! Whyfor would you do such a thing? (Maybe you've been watching the twenty thousand commercials on TV that suggest they will solve your problem.) Once they suggest that their primary care physician suggested it, I begin resisting the urge to scratch my own eyes out. This is closely followed with the feeling of resisting the urge to scratch the primary care physician's eyes out. That is followed by the urge to poke the AMA in the eyeball. With a Tylenol.
I am not sure you are aware, but I am in this quasi-war with leaves. I rake them all up, bag them, put them to the curb and then somehow - miraculously! - they return the next day. This is usually due to the fact that my neighbors are not so...um...how shall I put this...particular/crazy/type-A/neurotic about their leaf pick up.
Now this does not mean all of my neighbors. In fact, the neighbors on either side of me are quite good about picking up their leaves. However, when you go beyond that, we have some serious leaf failure going on.
This is compounded by the fact that my ratty neighborhood has several vacant houses and I will tell you right now that there is no way on earth that those owners/the bank/etc. are coming around to pick up leaves, exterminate rats, eliminate the thousand newspapers collecting on the front porch, monitor copper pipe robbers, etc. It is a crying shame.
So these lazies are off in happy Out of Ratlandia Land, forgetting that they ever lived here. This is not so cute for the neighborhood. Not really improving our look, not really helping out with house values.
Thus, the leaves blow. They pile up, kill the vacant house's grass, get all wet and grossy, and then barf across my lawn. It is not a nice sight. Especially for Ms. Neurotic Leaf Warrior.
Yesterday I raked again. It was the third time this week of raking. The lovely blood blister on my thumb was nearly healing and callousing up from the previous attempts to clear the lawn.
That was when I decided to do it. Yes, dear peeps, I decided to march myself down the street with my lawnmower and get rid of their leaves. I must admit, I did not this to be a charitable neighbor. This was pure shock and awe in Leaf War. Now, you also must know that I initiated my attempt while my dear hubby was at the store looking a muzzleloader (because deer hunting just isn't long enough with bow and gun season).
Why?
Obvs! It would have been way harder to sneak down the block with a lawnmower if he were here!
Duh!
Well, after an hour of this (and my hubby driving up and asking, "What on earth are you doing?!"), it was finished.
I have been so busy, as you can perhaps guess with my absence from writing. With what, you may ask?
Let me put it to you exactly like this. I have been ultra-busy writing plethoras of love letters to my neighbors whose main life goal is to never ever ever ever ever rake their leaves, especially after I raked mine for three hours. This is especially wonderful as yesterday the winds were only 60 mph and I could layer the entire back and front yard with the deciduous litter they have spread my way.
What do to thank neighbors like this, really?
Obviously I was thinking of a few things.
First, perhaps I would submit a secret letter to them that says, "Please pick up your disgusting leaves, bozo. Love, Hardworking Caring Neighbor"
Then I thought that they would probs notice it was me since I have been prone to stand out in the front yard glaring at them with red laser beams coming out of my eyeballs shooting at their faces, shaking my fist at the sky like Palpatine getting zapped into a crispy wrinkle by Mace Windu. That might be a giveaway. Wouldn't want to take it out of the DL flava, now.
So then I thought maybe I could just bag up all of their leaves that they allowed to blow upon my lawn and march them over, walk to their fenced backyard and dump said leaves upsidedown in a wild display of floppy armage while screaming, "How do you like that?! How do you like it all over your lawn, lazy pants?!" After the initial satisfaction that this would clearly cause, I seemed to ponder a slight flaw and see that I would be exactly in the same place I am now since the dears wouldn't bother about raking it up anyway and it would all just end up in my front yard again anyway.
The only real thank you could really come in the form of a brown flaming paper bag.
(Don't put it out with your boots, Ted!)
Yeah, well, I wish. I guess this is just the fodder that bounces to and fro as personal entertainment in my mind as I once again go outside and rake up five more lawn bags.
Peace, love, and I guess the T-shirt with the "Stop Being A Lazy Slob and Get Out Here and Rake" might be a bit over the top, too, (sigh!) Ms. Daisy
'Ello, lovelies! Happy Crackoween! What's that, you say? You aren't familiar with Crackoween? Well, some people call it Halloween, but clearly they must be mistaken. Obvs. Well, if you're not exactly sure, let me tell you. Over here in the good ol' U. S. of A., we pay like a majillion dollars for a flame-retardant (poison, endocrine disruptor) costume (or $17.99) for a little, and send them out begging for crack candy from house to house wherein they knock on the door and yell out, "Trick or treat!" Halloween decorations start showing up at Costco in August so people can stick skeletons and tombstones in their front yard for all of October, because hey, if we can't make a holiday into completely over-the-top wild spaz consumerism, we've landed in the wrong country. Then the last week of October comes and the giant bags of candy go on sale at the grocery stores. The bags have to be giant because there are so many chemicals ingredients in there, they need that much space to write it down. This is when it is your duty to spend an irreprehensible amount of money on such things in order to poison bring joy to all of the children in your neighborhood.
Okay, okay, okay. I'm not exactly the Scrooge of Halloween, but I am trying to make a point. The point is that there is so dang much candy for those little bodies that I think you could induce a sugar coma in no time. Now when I think back to my growing up days, my parents were much more normal lenient in the area of candy consumption. I remember pouring out my treasure all over the living room floor in order to organize it into categories (chocolate, suckers, sugar candy, worthless pennies, McDonald's bucks, etc.) and then it was a thing back then that parents were encouraged to sort through candy to check for things like razor blades, or candy laced with LSD. We had no TSA scanners back then, so I think it passed or failed based on making a general scan over the pile and then warning us not to bite down on potential razor blades if we happened to find one. Once we got that green light, it was frenzy time. It was like Christmas morning, but Halloween night. Shreds of wrappers littered the floor, tongues turned blue, then purple, then red, then yellow. I would trade Tootsie Rolls with my brother for anything else (since who eats those unless they are totally desperate?!). I would hand my mother the McDonald's bucks and think to myself how weird that was that people passed these out.
Maybe the candy didn't contain TBHQ (butane derivative - good thing you have those flame retardant costume, eh?), high fructose corn syrup, artifical flavors, colors, soy lecithin, partially hydrogenated oils, and other chemicals. Maybe it did. But what I know now is that much of the candy in fact does contain such ditties. Some of these are carcinogens, some mess up your endocrine system, others carry heavy metals because of their processing (like mercury) which causes neurodegeneration, and some are petroleum derivatives (yummaaaay). And I haven't yet mentioned even the amount of sugar our candies contain. So what? Let the kids have a little sugar now and then! Yeah, except for two things. Sugar follows the same path in your body as cocaine, lighting up those exact paths in your brain. Sugar is a narcotic. Yes, it's legal, yes, most people think nothing of it (except maybe when they have to go to the dentist). But it is a narcotic. The more you have, the more you need. When people comment about being addicted to sugar, they may be speaking more literally than they could imagine.
The other issue with sugar is that your body can only process a certain amount of sugar at a time. Beyond that (depending on age/weight/etc.), you get, in essence, an immune system shutdown. Everything has to stop its productivity to run over and get this fructose, glucose, sucrose, lactose, etc., out. It is like factory shutdown. Hopefully at that time you don't get innundated with an enemy front and get sick three days later. So what to do? No parent wants to be Oscar the Halloween Ruining Grouch, for sure. But we are also responsible to protect our children when they are unaware of dangers. This is a personal decision, and each parent ought to think through what this looks like in their own home. I'm just here to pass on the info. As far as my home goes, I will go ahead of time with them to pick out a few treats from the health food store (72%+ dark chocolate, some organic suckers, Glee gum, etc.) so they have something to look forward to. After we go trick-or-treating, we get home and weigh the candy and they trade it in for money to buy something they like that lasts longer than a Tootsie Pop. (I dump all of the crack candy into the garbage. Garbage day is Monday, if you want to garbage pick for mine.) Happy Crackoween, ya'll. Peace, love, and that treat might be a trick, Ms. Daisy
Do you ever get door-to-door salesmen in your area? Well, my dearies, have I got a story for you. Yesterday we had such a person come to our abode selling steaks.
If you know me, you know that I just had to ask him if the steaks were from grass-fed cows. He said he didn't know, but he did know that he could give me a deal. Now you know I appreciate a deal, but not at the cost of health. I told him that usually grass-fed beef was usually marked as such because it is something sought after.
I then explained that usually cows that weren't grass fed were fed stuff like corn, and of course, cows aren't supposed to eat corn, they're supposed to eat grass.
Do you have any idea what he said next? Do you? My sweet people, this man said, "Corn is grass."
Um, what? I couldn't let this be shugged off. (Perhaps I should have?) I replied, "Actually...corn is a grain (seed). Grass is...uh...grass is that stuff right there (pointing to the lawn)."
"No, corn is grass." He retorts, still quite certain of himself.
"Okay, so...", I begin, trying to think of a nice way to go on this, "You know how corn has like stalks, you know, out in the country, and it grows really tall and on a cob...that's actually different from grass..." and I trail off, raising my eyebrows hopefully.
Pause.
He looks at my college flag that I proudly sport out in front of my house (which is known for being an agricultural university) and says, "Hey, wait a minute. Did you go to that college right there? You must know a lot about this kind of stuff! Wow! Okay, then. I guess you're right!"
Okay, well, whatever it takes to convince you. (Especially since I took exactly zero ag classes.) "Yes. Hey, you just come right back here if you get in a load of grass-fed steaks, okay?"
Yes, I understand that the stalk may be considered a grass, but the cows aren't eating the stalks. They're eating the seed - the little yellow bits. That is not the same as pasture. That's also why McDonald's pretends in the background of their commercials that their hometown farmers that they use are out wearing overalls while the cows mull around munching on lush green pastures. It's because that's the way it's supposed to be. If they were advertising commercial agricultural feedlots where cows are standing in puddles of yuck, penned in, eating corn out of a bucket (or trough, etc.), with their faces in the hindquarters of the cow next to them since they've been packed in so tightly...well, it just doesn't give off the same kind of quaint flavor (or selling umph). Perhaps it doesn't bother you very much about what the cows are eating, and I am not in crazy town suggesting that cows ought to be nestling up to fluffy pillows while their massage therapist works on their top round, but I do think we ought to realize that we are what we eat. If we promote low-quality filthy cow quarters by putting our money into that basket, we are getting the results of that - animals who must have antibiotics (since they are sludging around in poo), animals who have gut issues (since we're feeding them a sugary grain instead of a lean grass), and likely a lesser quality of life than those allowed to act like the cows they were made to be out on pasture. That meat makes it into your body and comprises what you become. It is not for the sake of making cows sacred that they ought to be out on pasture eating grass, it is because it is just plain the right thing to do. It is for the sake of profit that things are done another way - it is easier, it is cheaper, it brings in big money. But is it giving you the best of health? If the cows are eating genetically modified corn (and they are, unless the beef is marked "organic"), they are becoming altered - and that is passing on to you. And we know how that translates within society - just look at all of the robust health everywhere. Not. Eyes open, peeps. Let's do it right. Peace, love, and pass the ketchup, Ms. Daisy
You know that thing that people do when they get all wigged out? That kind of...I don't know...how do you describe it accurately? That vibe.
(Wow, that was so like totally 0% precise.) So I started up the Just One Thing Challenge and asked people to try to stop using their microwaves. I suppose in hindsight, maybe I should have asked people to do something like "try to eat a piece of fruit some time this week if you get the off chance" because for some reason, I am getting this vibe that asking people not to use a microwave is something along the lines of, "I would really think it beneficial to you if you could please not breathe this week." But I have to tell all-a-y'all, I am just not wired that way. I am not wired to gently nudge you toward taking a tiny bite of fruit sometime throughout this week. THAT IS STRAIGHT UP LAME. I am not here to coddle babies along toward pathetic-ism. I want you to change. Do you need to change? Then do it. Let me say, I am not throwing anyone under the bus if you don't have any means to do something. I'm not asking for you to paint your walls with the gold paint they use over at the Notre Dame football field for their helmets. I am asking you to try something that if it were like 30 years ago, it would not have even been a challenge. If it were 50 years ago, it would have not even existed. Do you see how this may seem odd in the whole spectrum of things? Well, I guess it's kind of like living a day without your smartphone. Also impossible. That would be like having to wake up early and exercise before work (what-EVS sonotgonnahappen!). That would be like choosing to make your own bread instead of having the glorious factory do it for us (like I have time for THAT!). Yeah. Good thing our smartphones and our devices we have brought into our lives to simplify them have given us plenty of time to live a quality life. You choose the things you want to do every single day. If you want to choose to microwave your head, slobber up some pesticides, ingest Teflon, suck down McDonalds, consume loads of sugar crack, IV yourself to Diet Coke/Pepsi/Mountain Dew (etc.), and punch your liver in the face with a blowtorch with your eight zillion prescription meds, please go right ahead. But please do NOT complain that you are obese, have no energy, and/or are not happy. You would be what we might call totally and certifiably insane. In the membrane. Insane in the brain. Do hard things. This is your life. There is so much zing to be had out there. Don't pass it up for the easy road. I know it is weird, but if we want things to be different than they are now, we need to do something different than we're doing now. Be strong. Tell the wimpy voice to shut up. Peace, love and man up, Ms. Daisy
We explored the depths of relegating your microwave to the junk pile (or the basement...or to Salvation Army) in the last challenge. Onward and upward...today we forge our path toward (bum ba da baaaaaa) pesticide reduction. Pesticide reduction? What the heck for? My direct and unfiltered answer: do you want cancer? Are you trying to make your kids totally inept and spazzy? Are you supporting the death of honeybees that make it possible for us to eat piles of produce? Do you even care about poisoning the land beyond recognition so that your offspring will have a world devoid of any nutrients and health whatsoever? (Like I said, unfiltered.) Consuming vast swathes of insane poisons sprayed all over your absorby food is straight up a TOTALLY INSANE IDEA that we blatantly overlook for no good reason. Just think about this for like two seconds. We spray things that kill living beings (no, I'm not on a specific "save-the-bug" bus here, I'm just pointing this out) all over our food (HELLO?) and then ingest it, thinking this is totally normal and nothing to worry about. After all, the FDA and the USDA approve it, so it must be perfectly fine. (If you believe that, step a little closer so I can slap your forehead for you.) What if I told you that there was a nice quick and dirty (well, actually, maybe I should say "clean") way to avoid the bulk of pesticides? There is. The EWG is the Envoronmental Working Group (find them at ewg.org). They test every kind of fruit and veg you can imagine for pesticides and report it out to the public. Unfortunately for those of us in the United States, we have pathetic standards for what is safe (couldn't be from all of the lobbyists who beg for loose restrictions so that they can make buckets of money) and trail behind the standards of the countries of Europe. (Hello, Americans? Get up that competitive spirit and let's get in first place here!)
They have compiled a list of fruits and vegetables that contain the most pesticides so that if you were to purchase and consume them organically, you would automatically reduce your pesticide load by more than 90%. This is what they call the "Dirty Dozen". It is the top twelve fruits and vegetables that if you could buy organically, you really ought to. What are they? Well, they change yearly (although they do have many of the same homies populating the list year after year) because they test yearly. For every year I've looked at the Dirty Dozen, I've always seen the top two as they are this year: apples and strawberries. Those puppies are just LACED with junk.
Here is the Dirty Dozen, in order: 1. worst place: apples 2. strawberries 3. grapes 4. celery 5. peaches 6. spinach 7. sweet peppers (red peppers) 8. imported nectarines 9. cucumbers 10. cherry tomatoes 11. imported snap peas 12. potatoes In each of those cases, you are chowing down on the outside of the fruit/veg where toxic chemicals have been directly sprayed. The EWG also puts out the "Clean Fifteen" - the fruits and veggies that contained the least amount of pesticide residue. If you're on a budget and just can't buy everything organically, here are ones that you could best get away with doing so. The Clean Fifteen, cleanest first. 1. avocados 2. sweet corn 3. pineapples 4. cabbage 5. frozen sweet peas 6. onions 7. asparagus 8. mangoes 9. papayas 10. kiwi 11. eggplant 12. grapefruit 13. cantaloupe 14. cauliflower 15. sweet potatoes So. Will you consider reducing your pesticide load by perhaps switching to organic on some of these fruits and veggies? I know that this does have a cost component, but I would encourage you with two things. First, how much is your health worth? You know what Joel Salatin says, right? "If you think organic food is expensive, have you priced cancer lately?" That. Secondly, don't buy any prepackaged foods and you can save yourself enough money to put in the organic food basket. Prepackaged foods are devoid of nutrition and are sucking your life out of you, anyway, so it's a win-win. I'm not here to boss you around and tell you you stink if you don't buy organic fruit. I'm here to encourage you to take a look at what you're doing. Don't just go on like a cog in a machine and go with the flow because everybody else is doing it (everybody else is also sick). You are not like everyone else. God made you special, sista/brotha! The point is that it's just insane to look around at so much sickness and think if we just cross our fingers and throw salt over our shoulder we'll try to dodge that bullet. Do something about it. Today. Your health is not a roulette game. Every move you make walks you toward or away from wellness. Just think about it. Here is a very practical, instant, do something about it now change you can make. Peace, love, and smell the delicious organic apples, Ms. Daisy
Hey peeps! So, you made it one week (maybe). Did you make it? Tell me f'realies how it's going. Is it easy? Impossible? Sometimes you forget? Tell me! When I gave up my microwave, I was terrified that somehow I would fail or starve or something (actually, I don't know what, but I knew that I depended on it somehow...or I thought I did). I wanted to distance myself from it without jumping off of the cliff straightaway, so I put it in the basement. For about 6 months. Do you know what happened when I put it into the basement? I stopped using it. Just like that. It wasn't convenient to me, and I was purposing to live without it - and I did. And it was no big deal. It was like switching to homemade deodorant. At first you think, "OH MY GAWSH, that is NOT EVEN POSSIBLE!" and then you do it and you wonder what your problem was. (It's the matrix if you're wondering.) If you're having a hard time, but think you are able to do it and your microwave is on the counter, put it in the basement/garage/pole barn/shed/chicken coop (?!) and you'll realize two things. One, you have more counter space and two, you can do this. Don't really put it in your chicken coop, we don't want them climbing in and laying eggs in the radiation box... And then that was it. It was over. I didn't need it anymore. I lived without it just fine. Now I wonder why I used it in the first place. If your microwave is mounted under a counter above your stove, well...can you unplug it? I wouldn't want you to cook and have that thing on shooting your brain with cancer bullets. (If it were me, I'd unscrew it and sell it on craigslist, but hey.) I haven't had a microwave in the house for about two years. At first I was the only one on this bus in my house, the hubby wanted to warm up his coffee in it and would occasionally go down and nuke it. I would ask for his coffee when it got cold and heated it up in a pot for him and he liked that just fine. It slowly transitioned over where he didn't want to use it either. He rated it a 5/10 difficulty at first for stopping the use of it and now he wouldn't use it at all. What's the point? If we can do it without much consternation, I think you can too.
Let me know how you're doing! If you have questions or need a mini Ms. Daisy on your shoulder, just ask! (justonethingchallenge {at} gmail.com) Peace, love and you can do eeet, Ms. Daisy
