Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts with the label health

Eau de Fried Steak

Lately, I've been using a facial cream made up of tallow from grass-fed cows and organic extra-virgin olive oil. Every time I rub the stuff into my face, I think of fried steak. Yummmm. That's the smell of the cream. And, that's what my face smells like. The Husband has no sense of smell. Poor guy. He doesn't get to smell how deliciously like fried steak I am. Why am I using this yummy eau de fried steak ? I have a horrible case of facial eczema and experts say that tallow fat mimics human skin, has minerals that help heal and protect the skin, and has natural cleansing and anti-inflammatory properties. It's too early to say if eau de fried steak is working. No. I haven't been eating a lot of fried steak lately. But, I do think about it each time I apply eau de fried steak on my face. P.S. Tilda-Hilda and I did a quick pedal around the neighborhood this morning. I totally got myself out of breath. Maybe, I'll talk myself—and the Husband—into

Experimenting with My Diet

You know how sometimes you wake up one morning and you decide to be good about what you eat. That was this morning for me. I haven't analyzed the why-fors. Maybe I won't. I just went with the mood. Not that we have a lot of junk food in our refrigerator and pantry. The "worse" is a half bag of potato chips and a bunch of blueberry cheese pastry bits. The latter is the Mama's, which the Husband and I help consume, otherwise they go stale. This morning, I chose to forgo my usual breakfast selections -- peanut butter and jam sandwich or peanut butter, apple, and raisins rice bowl. Peanut butter, processed grains, and food loaded with sugar could be contributing culprits for my eczema flare ups. Hence, none of those foods for awhile. What did I eat for breakfast then? I made a salad out of organic baby spring lettuces, leftover roasted sweet potato rounds, and a handful of almonds that I topped with balsamic vinegar. Someone told me that the sweet potato satisfies

Day 44 with Tilda-Hilda

It felt so good riding with Tilda-Hilda this morning. The last time we went out was 11 days ago. My left knee was being a bear, so I stayed off it and took anti-inflammatory pills. The knee feels a bit stiff right now. Tilda-Hilda and I pedaled a wonderful 8.5 miles in 47 minutes. I felt like I could've gone on farther and further. See ya tomorrow.

Day 41 with Tilda-Hilda

"Why are you up so early?" asked the Husband. "I want to ride the bike before it gets too hot," I said. "Take the phone." Tilda-Hilda and pedaled off to Tres Pinos, going about a mile pass the village. Our round trip today was about 13.5 miles in 78 minutes. Whooo-hooo!

Day 40 with Tilda-Hilda

The TV weather casters say we're going to go through another heat wave. So far, so good today. Tilda-Hilda and I went out later than usual so I could drop off books and DVDs at the library. The Mama said, "Don't go far." The Husband said, "Do you have the phone? Be careful." Molly the Cat said, "Mewww." I think she wanted to either a snack or to go outside in the front yard. I asked her if she'd like to ride with us. She could ride in the basket. No answer. Tilda-Hilda and I both agree. Earlier is better. Today, we pedaled 10.5 miles in 59 minutes. We made sure we didn't overdo or overheat ourselves. Until next time.

Day 20 with Tilda-Hilda

Beeeep. Beeep. Beeep. "I think I was being followed by a drone," I said to the Husband when I got home from a bike ride with Tilda-Hilda about two weeks ago. "What?" "It started when I took pictures of the goats on Best Road. I kept hearing a beeep sound until I got to the highway." "I've heard that sound," said the Husband. "It's not a drone." "What is it then?" "I don't know." "It was a drone." Ever since that ride I have been hearing that Beeep sound on other back roads. Today I discovered the source. It's not a drone. Unless a ground squirrel is one. Tilda-Hilda and I pedaled just over 11 miles in 64 minutes this morning. Beeeep. Beeep. Beeep.

Day 18 with Tilda-Hilda

Tilda-Hilda took off later than usual this morning, because I was debating whether to take today as my rest day. I almost talked myself into skipping, but then I reasoned I would be rushing tomorrow as the Husband and I are going to see the air show at the airport. Hence, patient Tilda-Hilda and I pedaled off for a short ride. So, I thought. Maybe if I didn't want to go up this hill (the one in the photo), it would've been a sweet, short, not-so-hard ride. But, then, no hard work, no healthy gain for me. Chug, chug, chug. I'm not a pretty pedaler going up hills. I gasp. I growl. I spit. I looked up at one point and saw a woman biker also pedaling a cruiser going down the other way. "Hello," I said. No response. She kinda had a disgusted look on her face. Oh-oh. She must've seen me spit. Oh well, as the Husband says, better out than in. Anyway, we had another delightful work-out. Tilda-Hilda and I went about 9 miles in 49 minutes. By the way, I actually

Day 14 with Tilda-Hilda

Tilda-Hilda and I thank the Wind for giving us a boost up the hill. Without it, I doubt we would've got to the barn with the cool mural this time round. Notice how the artist drew the hills so their lines matched those of the actual hills beyond the barn. Our valley was souped in with fog this morning that I couldn't see the nearby mountains. So, Tilda-Hilda and I took off just before noon for our ride. We pedaled nearly 11 miles in 59 minutes. Whooo-hoooo! Today's song was "Take me Home, Country Roads" by John Denver. This video of him and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band is from a live performance for Farm Aid in 1985.

Day 12 with Tilda-Hilda

This morning, Tilda-Hilda and I pedaled about 10 miles in 58 minutes. I'm two pounds lighter, too. Tilda-Hilda must be happy about that. Our photo opp today was at St. Benedict Catholic Church. The song going through my head on the ride was the first verse and chorus of Lady Marmalade. Enjoy Patti Labelle's version from 1975.

Rusted Running Feet

Plod, plod, plod. I jogged nonstop all the way around the block. Nearly one-quarter of a mile that first day. Yes, it was tough. On my lungs. On my knees. On my whole body. Lumber, lumber, lumber. The second day, I jogged, gasping, but nonstop, for half a mile. When I got home, I told the Husband that my jogging went from  plod, plod, plod to lumber, lumber lumber . The Husband asked, "How is plodding different from lumbering?" The sound is different. It is. Pad, pad, pad. My gait sounded like Molly the Cat's when she scoots across the kitchen floor in search of something mischievous to do. I went three-quarters of a mile that third day. I remembered to breath in through my nose and not my mouth. I tried not to think of the twinge in my right knee. The fourth morning, I laid in bed thinking which route around the neighborhood would make one mile. And I thought about whether I ought to run at all. Maybe I ought to pay attention to the twinge that was now t

Ready to Go!

Tomorrow, I start another 30-day challenge of keeping excessive, delicious carbohydrates out of my diet. It's called the Sweet Fire Challenge , lead by nutrition education Mary Toscano. I completed another of her 30-day challenges in August . My poor eating and non-exercise habits began creeping back a few weeks ago, so when I learned about this new challenge, I decided to jump in before I gain back the pounds and inches I've lost, as well as lose all the sensibilities I've gained. I'm doing the extreme challenge, which requires that I follow three simple rules from November 11 to December 10: 1. No food or alcohol after 7:30 p.m. 2. No foods with flour or with more than 20 grams of sugars per serving 3. Do 30 minutes of exercise, or do 7,000 steps, every day. Soooooo, today, I ate sourdough bread and a maple old-fashioned doughnut for lunch. I'll probably have a bit more sourdough bread for dinner, along with three or four mini mini-chocolate-chip-c

Ride Along with Me

Yippeee! One more week to go with the 30-day health challenge. Have I lost weight? I don't know. I decided not to weigh myself when I started because I get very disappointed that I've lost only half-a pound or gained 2 pounds when I think I must've lost a gazillion pounds. Both the Husband and the Mama said I looked smaller today.  This past week I was missing bread. Rice or quinoa with peanut butter, pesto, or brie doesn't quite do it. Next week, I'll be searching for sourdough bread and maybe jalapeño tortillas. Not to worry, I won't go overboard. I decided to do an additional two weeks, but I'll modify the challenge by allowing myself to eat one kind of floured item each day, if I feel like it. My workouts changed this week. One morning, I woke up feeling too tired to bicycle so later that day I walked. I don't like walking because my knees hurt afterwards, which the Husband says is because I don't pick up my knees.  That day I discovered

Done and Did -- Week One of the 30-Day Challenge

"Wouldn't you like some potato chips with lunch?" I asked the Husband, as we waited for the light to turn green. "Sure." He's such a sweetheart. "Beer would taste good with potato chips. Shall we get some beer, too?" "Absolutely!" I made a left into the supermaket parking lot. "But, can you have chips?" he asked. I was on my second week of the 30-day health-and-fitness challenge. "Yes, as long as they're not made from flour," I answered, easing the car into a parking spot far away from the door. "You can't have beer then," he said. I was momentarily bummed out. And, all this time we'd been driving around town doing errands, I'd been thinking of a gin and tonic. Not that I'm a big cocktail drinker,  But, today, I've been desiring an alcoholic drink. Then, my brain cells kicked in. "Alcohol is okay, as long as it's not past 7:30 PM." "Are you sure? B

30 Days towards a Healthy Lifestyle

Tomorrow starts the 30-Day Sam Farr Challenge for me. Sam Farr is my representative  in the U.S. House of Representatives and last week he decided to take health educator Mary Toscano's invitation to a 30-day healthy lifestyle challenge. In so doing, he invited his constituents to join him. In a nutshell, from tomorrow, July 12, until August 12, I will follow these three rules: No food or alcohol after 7:30 PM. No foods with flour (including gluten-free flours) or more than 20 grams of sugars (per serving). Complete 1 hour of exercise of 10,000 steps daily. I feel confident that I can handle rules #1 and #3 quite easily. Thirty days without pasta, bread, cereal, ice cream, cookies, and pie? That will be the toughie for me. It's the primary reason I decided to take the challenge. I've slipped back into the habit of eating desserts, rolls, pasta, and such, knowing full well that they aren't good for my eczema, estrogen dominance, and right-at-the-border diabe

Freeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Free! That's how I feel when I pedal my clunky bright pink bicycle. Being short, I've got a lot of power in my stubby legs, so says the tall Husband, who sometimes huffs and puffs after me. "That's okay," I tell him. "I can't keep up with you when we walk. Since December 31, 2013, I've pedaled nearly 320 miles on my pretty cruiser.  I'm rather proud about that. Several days a week, I take off before breakfast and pedal up and down and through the flat and hilly neighborhoods or trace a perimeter around town. Because I'm alone, I generally follow the streets and roads. Now and then I forge quickly across a field or ford the dry riverbed. The Mama is almost used to me going out on my own early in the morning. Just when I think it's not a big deal for her that I'm out roaming alone, she'll say something like, "Do you go far away?" "What takes you so long?" or "Aren't you afraid to ride by yourse

Prepping for the Pain. Boo!

"Boo!" "What?!" The Husband jumped. I got him twice already. "Stop scaring me," he whined in a fake scaredy-cat kid's voice, after he stopped laughing.  "Stop scaring me." Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. I'm feeling loosely-goosely right now. Almost floating on air. It's the ibuprofen speaking.  I took one of them red pills a few minutes before I surprised the Husband the first time. "Boo!" I'd taken 3 of them before going to bed last night. "Boo!" I'm getting ready for a big OW! later on today. An endometrial biopsy. The doctor said it would hurt a little Hah! I know better. I've had two in the past several years. The second one was the worse and I had self-medicated myself before then. Let's just say two ibuprofen pills doesn't do it for me. The Husband said he could hear me from the waiting room. Until yesterday, I thought I was a wimp, a weenie, a baby for not having been able to

Day One

No, I haven't forgotten to write Part 2 about buying birthday perfume for the Mama . Yesterday afternoon while looking for a bookmark I found the envelope containing all the tags and bits of information about the perfume samples that I got her. So, part 2 is a coming. One day. These days, it just takes me a long while to get around to doing the fun writing. Something called writing deadlines get in my way, as does making meals for the crew and doing the minimum housecleaning that I can get away with, which generally means when we're all sneezing. Not to say trying to stay half a step ahead of the Mama and remember to go water the flowers and chayote vines before they wilt. Oh, and other stuff, whatever they are. By the way, is anyone out there flinching with my grammatical errors yet. I'm sure they're there. "They" referring to errors. I ought to be sleeping. I've got only 15 minutes left of the sleep cycle for my liver to regenerate itself. I read somewhe

Hi, Hello, How are you?

Really? It's been almost a month since I posted a post. Wish I could say I was traveling or wandering in wonder lust. Nope. Just getting on with life. Dusting and vacuuming a bit more often to keep my facial eczema from flaring so awfully awful that my eyes become swollen. How swollen? The recessive epicanthic folds of my eyelids show themselves. An advantage for me. Nobody thinks anything is wrong with my eyes. Celebrating the husband's 60th anniversary of being born. Every 60-year-old child should have a birthday party complete with bubble wands, darts, and other games. And lots of his favorite food. Finishing a deadline and starting another one. Sigh. I'm boxed in until 12/12/12. So, by golly, the world better not end on 12/21/12! Working on my 40th high school class reunion. The husband doesn't believe me when I say this is the last time I work on a reunion. "Absolutely," I say. "Uh-huh," he says. So, that what has kept me me away from writing

Finding the Funny in B for Bleeding

Today's letter is B . For more B posts, please click here . Bleeding. Definitely not to be taken lightly. Postmenopausal bleeding, in particular, for us mature ladies. Still, there's some humor to be found. Hold that thought. Serious stuff first: The medical experts say that postmenopausal bleeding refers to any bleeding (light or heavy) occurring after one full year of no flow. There could be various reasons that a post-menopausal woman may suddenly start bleeding, from benign cervical polyps to yuck! cancer. So, dear ladies, you know who you are, do not hesitate, do not pass Go . Make an appointment to see your gynecologist tout de suite. Okay, back to that held thought. Humor. Let me take you back to 2006. Then was my first bout with postmenopausal bleeding. Lady-Doc (and my gynecologist is a she) found a rather huge, very ugly hot potato of a polyp. She twisted that baby off and sent it to the lab. Ladies, the things our gynecologists must see and do. They're well wort

Aging, Sometimes Awkwardly

Alphabe-Thursday , hosted by Jenny Matlock at Off on My Tangent , is staring a new round of the alphabet. Whoo-hoo!   To read more A posts, click on over to here . Of course, that's after reading my A post. ~ Su- sieee ! Mac Getting older is a learning experience. Duh. If someone gave me an operating manual for aging, I doubt that I would open it. That would be like finding out what date and time slot death has assigned me. No, thank you. I'm happy to grumble and gripe, cry and cringe, and mumble and moan through the aging process. The physical aspect, that is. Seriously, I don't think I am at all that old until I happen to glance into a mirror. Fortunately, we still haven't put up another mirror in the bathroom since the old one broke last New Year's Eve.  So, what I don't see, well is what I don't see. Though a few weeks ago, someone asked me ever so sweetly and with much concern, "Are you sick?" Huh? Heck, no. Knock on wood.