Sunday, September 13, 2009

SPARK!


I dig the title of the book I'm reading right now, "Spark: The Revolutionary New Science of Exercise and the Brain". It just makes me want to hop right on my treadmill and get moving.


I have gotten so out of shape since we left Florida that I can't say I'm capable of doing much hopping right now, but I am very focused on changing that. I may not be headed for the 6 mile runs I used to do during soccer season in high school, but I sure can set aside the time and energy to walk 3 miles, or bike 12, right?


I look forward to the cool temperatures and low humidity of Fall when I can vary my routine a little and enjoy some fresh air. Right now, however, I'm stuck inside where I have my favorite tools all set up to make heart-pumping activities that much more inviting.


My first favorite is my treadmill. It's nothing special; no t.v. screen, no iPod hook-up, and it only goes up to an incline of 10, rather than the 15 I've seen on some models. But, it has a few different programmed walk/runs, and I am happy to change the incline and speed as I interval my way through my workout.


My next favorite gadget is my iPod. It's a Nano, so it doesn't have a fancy screen, but it stores all my groovy tunes, and I have a special play list with peppy music that makes me want to boogie (or do the walking equivalent, at least!).


After my babies were born, I used a heart rate monitor that used both a chest strap transmitter along with the wrist-strap receiver. I hated fiddling with the bulky chest portion, so when I saw a monitor that did away with the chest strap altogether, I was elated! The one I use now is a watch with two sensors that I press two fingers on in order to get a bpm reading. I don't need a device that records my heart rate throughout my workout. Spot checking is just fine with me.


Finally, I have a fan set up next to my treadmill to keep the air moving around. There's also one on my treadmill that is supposed to blow on my face, but when I increase the incline, it actually keeps my belly cool instead :)


Add a water bottle and a cordless phone, and I'm all set!


As I read through Spark, I am more encouraged than ever to include a good cardio workout in my daily routine along with one for my husband and kids. As I build muscle, cardio endurance, and brain matter, I figure my old figure will emerge eventually.


Monday, August 17, 2009

Lady-Stache



I did not plan to have my eyebrows waxed today, but they were getting really bushy and I have a meeting tonight where I will get to know several new people who will likely not judge me by the stray-ness of my eyebrow hair, but still; first impressions are important, right?
So between other errands, I popped into one of our local Asian-lady hangouts for a quick fix, with my girls in tow. To their credit, they stood quietly in the room, exactly where I asked them to, and only once did I hear a whisper from my eldest, "I wonder what that thing does?" I don't know what that thing was, or what it did either as my eyes were closed, and I've never felt that sensation before while being professionally waxed.
The lady who performed the deed sat me back in a chair, placed a towel on my chest (theoretically to catch all of those stray hairs that would be falling), and queried, "Uppa leep"?
Those of you who know me, will have to tell me sometime if my upper lip needs a wax. Honestly, given I have pretty fair hair, what is growing on my upper lip is blond, and probably shimmers happily in direct sunlight if you're looking. But I have no dark hair there, don't feel much like a man yet, so have never considered waxing my upper lip. I replied, "No thanks." And then closed my eyes, thinking that my eye-waxing lady had quite a nerve. Her tip shrunk in my head.
Half-way through my spreading, smearing, ripping, plucking, brushing, clipping, and whatever-that-mysterious-contraption-thing-is-for-ing, she's asked, "Pedicure too?"
Now, to the lady's credit, my feet are in bad shape. My lip is innocent, but my feet deserve some attention. It's not just the cracking, dry skin on my heels, it's also the red polish, which I applied last month that has grown mostly out, so most of my toes look like I only painted the top half. This lady (despite the brain cells she's surely lost to all those fumes) is aware that, rather than artistic painting, I'm really in need of some remover and a re-polish.
"No, thanks!" I say, while trying to keep my face still so she doesn't accidentally pluck one of my lip hairs instead.
Then I start wondering, if next she'll offer a salad, and a good work-out regimen for me, since she's probably noticed the extra pounds I could stand to lose.
Her tip shrinks once again. Because, really? I know my toes need some work, and I don't need you to point it out for me. I came to feel better about the state of my physical appearance, and now I'm trying to figure out how I'll get my grocery trip done while simultaneously sucking my upper lip into my mouth, and walking, toes tucked under my feet in my flip flops- or so fast that my feet are just one big blur. But that will cause bigger problems, because my kids will be left near the frozen bread, while I've already made my way to the self-checkout station.
She stands back proudly to admire her work, and hands me a smeary mirror to check for myself. Did all previous patrons lick the thing because they were treated with the same lack of respect as I? Her work looks acceptable, and I hand back the mirror, and she looks me in the eye, and she kills her tip. "Shoowa, uppa leep?"
"Yes, I'm sure" I respond, and gather the girls to go pay.
They lady who checks me out, asks if I want a manicure/pedicure. Seriously?? What is it with this place?
She says, "Seven dolla" and I hand her my card. I figure I'll get to add my meager tip when she prints out the receipt (honestly not clearly thinking because I'm still stunned by my new team of personal fixer-uppers).
She hands me my receipt which has no place for a tip, and tells me that the same lady who did my wax does the mani/pedi for when I come back.
Oh good. Because she's the first person I would request for my next waxing experience. Truly, the wax is torture enough.
I have no cash with me, and they can't run my card again unless it's over $10, so the lady gets no tip at all. And while I feel bad about this, I'll get over it, around the time the skin around my eyebrows is no longer red.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Book Review


I have been reading a lot lately. Too much, in fact, and my laundry has been piling up as a result. My latest book, however, got me off my tush in a jiffy, as I am humbled and convicted by all that the authors must do to keep their home in order. My daily life is a cake walk in comparison!

Our family has been watching the show about the Duggar family for several months now, and our kids love it. They can watch without wondering if we will change channels because of inappropriate clothing, language, or behavior. We watched one episode of John and Kate Plus 8, and that was the last episode for us. I don't care for my children to get any ideas from a very loud bunch of kids. The contrast between the two families, especially given that the Duggars have twice as many children, is astounding. Yeah, yeah, Kate's family's kids are younger as a bunch, and the older Duggar kids do a great deal to help out, but their little ones are so well behaved.

Picking up the book was a good move, and was encouraged by a friend who had already read it. I finished in a couple evenings, and my life has changed overnight because of a new way of prodding my girls to get things done! Michelle Duggar issues check marks on a chart when her kids complete various tasks, and the children get money for each mark.

I was giving out coins before, but would see days fly by without any initiative on my kids' parts to complete any tasks. Their banks, which have sections shaped like buildings for "Church", "Bank", and "Shopping" were very lonely without any deposits, and the dolls I bought for them to earn were beginning to give up all hope of being claimed by my girls any time before high school graduation.

Now, there's a chart for each girl, where they get to write a check mark each time they answer, "Yes ma'am" and cheerfully run off to complete a task I have given them. I think this works better for a few reasons:


  1. They like being able to write their own check mark. It brings some instant gratification and pride in their work.

  2. They know that each mark is worth five cents, whereas before they may have been given a whole quarter for the same chore. Because they're focused on the check mark instead of the amount of money, they don't seem to be calculating in their heads whether or not it's worth doing the task for the amount they're getting. That, and I've told them, that they'll be required to complete the request, whether they are pleasant about it or not. The manners are what earns the money; that, and obeying right away, without taking pit-stops.

  3. They are competing. This is one of many reasons why I LOVE having two children close together in age. They can see their charts side by side, and don't want to lag behind the other, so they run up and ASK if there is anything that I need them to do.

  4. I don't have to carry around a big jar of change. At the end of the week, I'll count the marks, hi-light the ones that have been redeemed, and give them a lump-sum.

I love Michelle Duggar!!! My kids folded and put away laundry today, cleaned their playroom, cleaned hallways, cleared dishes, sorted dirty laundry, cleaned a closet, and ran other minor errands up and down the stairs for me. Happily. With smiles. Who took my girls???!


If only for that one tip, I would have paid twice what I did for the Duggar's book. But there was so much more on their financial philosophy (no debt), homeschooling information for those of us who homeschool, or for others who might, as well as the reasons they have chosen to have a large family. My girls have asked me to read much of the book to them, and I love knowing they are hearing about a family that seeks God's will for their lives, and goes against the mainstream sometimes to rear faithful children.


Although we will not be rearing a bus load of kids, we eat a substantially different diet (I don't think any of the book's recipes would be useful to us), and I'm no more likely to circumcise a potential son than either of my daughters, I LOVE the Duggar family. They are really so precious, and such a breath of fresh air in a mostly musty world.


Saturday, July 25, 2009

Health Care (Government)


I just couldn't sleep. I watched Obama's info-mercial the other night, listened thoughtfully to all that he had to say on the matter, and then processed a friend's comment that she felt that health care was part of the "life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness" that we are all supposed to be guaranteed (under the 'life' category).

She is one of the only people I know who sides with Obama on this one. Most of my friends and family members want government to stay far, far away from their medical care. To them, government and health care go about as well together as carpet and red wine. I am inclined to agree.

To me, forced charity is no charity at all. And that is what socialism is. Charity should be given freely, and I believe our country's attempt to meddle in charitable giving has created much more of a problem than there otherwise might have been.

If American Idol can raise millions for those in need, can't we trust Americans enough to bring food to a shelter or soup kitchen if only they couldn't rest in the false assumption that, "if they really needed help, they could get food stamps, etc." If there were no safety net other than funds and supplies given by neighbors to neighbors in need, I truly believe that my fellow citizens would rise to the occasion and dig deep in their wallets to share. But many of us are apathetic because we trust that our government will step in.

It feels good to share. Paying taxes feels like sandpaper rubbed on sensitive body parts.

Not only that, but we taxpayers would have more to share, if government weren't always dipping into our pocketbooks asking for more. Further, because of the efficiency of private charitable organizations, each dollar would go further (think World Vision, and Habitat for Humanity). They don't spend half of their income in administrative costs, the way our government does. They have nearly ALL of our hard earned money ear-marked for those who will benefit the most from it.

Also note how small, private charitable organizations can hold those who receive aid accountable. If our family were able to donate money to local residents directly, instead of to worthy groups, such as ACORN, we would be able to cease our donations once we realized that, instead of buying healthy food for their children, our neighbors-in-need were taking delivery of their second flat-screen television, and registering homeless people for elections in other states in their spare time.

Fraud in the Medicaid program alone is estimated at 30 BILLION a year! Can you imagine what private clinics, like a local one called Hands of Hope, could do for those in need, with that kind of revenue? Those are our tax dollars folks. That's our money that is being stolen, and our current government wants to add more (to the tune of one trillion dollars) to the pot. How much will we lose in fraud then? Should we be adding programs when the government can't get a handle on what they already have running?

This is not to say that our system isn't a mess. Doctors pay exorbitant costs for malpractice insurance, which, of course we pay in the end in higher medical bills. Why aren't doctors and nurses held accountable with their very careers, instead of being able to return to work after they pay off the latest unhappy patient? My husband (an air traffic controller) is watched more closely at work than Al Gore keeps track of his thermometer. Every word he says, or key stroke he makes is recorded. And if he makes a mistake, all of those recordings are reviewed. If he makes mistakes, he pays a price; ultimately losing his job if he makes more than a few during a given period of time. We're not talking about actual mid-air collision-type mistakes. If two of his aircraft get closer than a certain number of miles to each other, he faces disciplinary action.

If doctors were held to a standard this high, and to this kind of monitoring, and then dealt with their mistakes by being forced out of work temporarily (or permanently if too many mistakes were made over time), I think most patients would come to understand that they could expect good care from their doctors, that they would pay with their careers if they were not very careful with the lives and well-being of their patients, and that they would not win the lottery if a mistake were made.

With frivolous law-suits set aside, costs should go down a good amount.

I have read recently, that 80% if disease can be directly linked to poor habits. Smoking and poor nutrition choices are right at the top of the "poor habit" list.

Has anyone thought of giving a rebate to Medicare/Medicaid recipients who maintain a healthy weight and who refrain from smoking? How about taxing the heck out of junk food? I know this raises some concerns about who decides what qualifies as junk food, but just as safe drivers get a break on their auto insurance, can't we figure out a way to reward those who take care of their bodies?

The big question is really as simple as how big of a role should government have in our lives? If they got out of the way, I imagine we could figure out how to care for those in need and create local clinics that were efficient. Do we have to run the same experiment on health care that has failed in Massachusetts and Hawaii? Canada? Are we really that stupid? I certainly hope not.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Udderly Interesting



Pictured here is my first gallon of raw cow milk. I was careful not to jostle the jug so you would be able to see what it looks like prior to shaking. See all of that cream/fat on top?

My husband has been looking at me skeptically as I buy and then drink raw milk. I even gave my kids some of the raw goat's milk, gasp!

He, like most of us, has been very carefully taught not to eat raw dairy and meats, and as I've done my research on this controversy I have come to find that there are very strong opinions on both sides; it reminds me of the battle over vaccinations.

Not wanting to put my beloved children, or myself for that matter, at risk, I have sorted through the information that floats around cyberspace to come to what I consider the best educated guess I can at this time. Take what you want, and leave the rest, and by all means, do you own sorting before you drink any type of milk!

I stumbled upon information about raw milk a while ago, and was NOT impressed. In fact, as a family, we avoided cow products across the board, pasteurized or not. Here is a link to the site I studied, with direct mention of raw milk. The entire site http://www.notmilk.com/ focuses on the author's distaste for dairy, along with his reasons for becoming a strict vegan.

One thing that stands out to me, is the statement that, "many bacteria are not killed by pasteurization. Rod-shaped bacteria form a "spore" at the first sign of heat (spore is the Greek word for seed). When milk cools, the spore re-emerges into its original form."

Two questions came to mind after I read that. One, if bacteria are going to survive pasteurization anyway, why go through the trouble? And two, are the bacteria really a problem at all?

Raw milk advocates address both questions by choosing a milk in which all bacteria are left alone. The theory here is that pasteurization kills off the good bacteria that keep the bad bacteria in check. I think of our guts and what happens when we get a dose of an antibiotic. All bacteria gets killed off in our systems; the good with the bad. Then yeast grows out of control (formerly kept at healthy levels by our good bacteria). We, and many along with us, take daily probiotics to ADD back good bacteria lost to the chlorine in our drinking water, among other things. Mass marketers have caught on, and now sell everything from granola bars to cereal with added probiotics. My guess is that this is nothing more than savvy marketing, and that the levels and types of probiotics used probably never survive long enough to get anywhere near our digestive tracts.

I look to human breast milk for a comparison. Experts tell us not to microwave or heat (aside from a brief warming) breast milk because the heat will destroy the componants in the milk that strengthen our babies' immune sytems. Breast milk can be left at room temperatures for hours without risk of spoilage because of the 'living' nature of the milk that is naturally anti-bacterial. I imagine "cooked" or pasteurized breast milk would not have this same protection. So, wouldn't it stand to reason that milk made by other mammals would be similarly protected prior to pasteurization?

Raw milk proponents site numerous reasons for consuming milk in its natural state. Among them are that pasteurization, "destroys enzymes, diminishes vitamin content, denatures fragile milk proteins, destroys vitamins C, B12 and B6, kills beneficial bacteria, promotes pathogens and is associated with allergies, increased tooth decay, colic in infants, growth problem in children, osteoporosis, arthritis, heart disease and cancer. Calves fed pasteurized milk do poorly and many die before maturity. Raw milk sours naturally, but pasteurized milk turns putrid; processors must remove slime and pus from pasteurized milk by a process of centrifugal clarification. Inspection of dairy herds for disease is not required for pasteurized milk. Pasteurization was instituted in the 1920s to combat TB, infant diarrhea, undulant fever and other diseases caused by poor animal nutrition and dirty production methods. But times have changed and modern stainless steel tanks, milking machines, refrigerated trucks and inspection methods make pasteurization absolutely unnecessary for public protection. And pasteurization does not always kill the bacteria for Johne's disease suspected of causing Crohn's disease in humans with which most confinement cows are now infected...." From http://www.realmilk.com/

Although I am able to get my hands on cow's milk that is raw and comes from cows that are healthy, are grass fed, and are milked in a sanitary manner (my source also has grass fed beef, and free range eggs here in GA- if you're local, go to http://www.countrygardensfarm.com/ ) I still opt to feed only goat's milk to my children.

My reasons are that I have actually seen the goats, watched them being cleaned before and after they are milked, know what they eat, and have a sense that the owners are knowledgeable and careful about how the goats and their milk are handled. Goat's milk is also much more similar to human milk in protein and fat levels, and is much more easily digested (raw!). From what I have read, a goat makes milk that most other mammals could thrive by drinking.

I would never drink or give milk to my children from an animal that was:

  • Confined to a stall
  • Fed grains only, and not allowed to ruminate on vegetation most of the year
  • Bred only for milking capacity (as most dairy cows today are) rather than for all-around health and quality
  • Given hormones to increase milk production
  • Mass-milked by workers who are out of touch with safe-handling procedures

Keep in mind that even most commercial Organic dairy products are produced by cows who are grain-fed and confined. Check your sources, and take advantage of small farms that are local!

Yes, there are dangers in eating raw. The next spinach salad you eat could be laced with e. coli (the most common food for e. coli contamination, by the way). Your raw cow's milk might give you a stomach ache and diarrhea; but the pasteurized variety might do the same. Because of those dangers, there are foods I would not offer to an immune suppressed individual or take if I were pregnant.

To find your local source for raw cow or goat milk, visit http://www.realmilk.com/

And for those of you who are hesitant to give goat's milk a try because of its flavor, fear not! The pasteurized version does taste 'goaty' or musky, but the raw milk tastes remarkably similar to 2% cow's milk (whole goat milk is much lower in fat than whole cow milk). I've had it on my cereal and out of a glass, and despite my aversion to the commercial/pasteurized form, I have nothing but positive things to say about the taste and smell.

Also, because laws in most states prohibit the sale of unpasteurized milks, most farms will advertise that the milk is "for pets". If you get to know the animals and their caretakers, and are comfortable with the entire picture, you may find that the milk for your pets is good enough for you too.

Friday, May 8, 2009

The Big, Bad, Mini-Plague!


Harsh words for a common vehicle, no?


I have to admit that I didn't give much thought to cars until I was purchasing my first, and we tend to stick with what we know, so I purchased the exact same type of car my mother had passed down to me (which I then totaled). That was "Rhonda" my Honda Accord, and I have been driving Hondas ever since. Not a bad brand to start and stay with, I say.


My husband referred to my Japanese-made sedan as a "rice burner" when we met (he'd worked for an American automobile company) but quickly became a convert as he noticed how well my Accord was made, how nicely it drove, and how little rice, eh-hem, gas I had to put it in to drive back and forth to his place at regular intervals.


After we married and our little girl was born, we looked around for something that would hold a saucer in the back for trips to Grandma's. Not the kind of saucer you put your tea cup on; the kind your 5 month old inhabits when you need to take a shower or cook a meal. Trapped, entertained, for at least 5 minutes before the protests begin...


So, we purchased a Honda CRV. Looking back, I don't know why we didn't look at the mini-vans; I guess it was because my husband's sister tossed her baby's saucer into the back of her mid-sized SUV, and we were copying her at the time, right down the the part where mom sits in the back seat (youth cabin) of the family vehicle on trips longer than five or ten minutes. Parenthood is supposed to make us feel young again, right?


When baby #2 was born a mere 22 months later, a new most-annoying-thing-ever started happening. Because there was very little space between car seats in the back of our CRV for me to sit (made more difficult by those extra pounds I packed on during pregnancy) I gave riding up front with the man who helped me create this fun situation a try again.


It went something like this:


Adorable 22-month old kicks the back of her mother's seat.


"Please honey, keep your feet down, okay?"


Adorable 22-month old kicks the back of her mother's seat 2 minutes later.


"Remember Mommy asked you to keep your feet down? No kicking sweetie."


22-month old kicks the back of her mother's seat a few minutes later.


"Honey, DON'T kick Mommy's seat."


22-month old forgetful child kicks her mother's seat once more.


"If you kick Mommy's seat again, I'm going to have to take Elmo away"


22-month old Elmo-less daughter kicks her mother's seat for the last time.


"HONEY, WE NEED A MINI-VAN NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


3 week old startles awake, and joins Mommy in the screaming.


CRV turns toward the nearest Honda dealership.


Our first Odyssey joined the family tree of Honda's very soon after our second child was born, and we were in love. Power sliding doors, tons of cargo space, more than enough seats, safety...the list goes on and on.


I cannot say that I ever thought much about our mini-van purchase. But hearing a few comments from other moms through the years has sparked my curiosity, and I was reminded of them as we were looking for our newest Odyssey (our 4th!) I came across this review of the 2007 Odyssey by Edmunds.com:


For some people, the minivan is a stigma, a vehicle to be shunned as if it were infected with the bird flu and leprosy at the same time. They go for the big and bold SUV and, in hopes of softening its image, add a trendy stick-figure nuclear family sticker to the back window. While we're fine with all of this, we test enough vehicles to know that the minivan, whatever perceived stereotypes it seems to incur, is still the ultimate family- and gear-hauling machine.
If you prioritize utility, safety and refinement, then your next vehicle purchase could very well be the 2007 Honda Odyssey.


It's the "swine flu" now, but the concept remains the same. There are women out there who would give up the convenience of more storage and people toting space, safety (SUVs are notoriously more dangerous in terms of roll-over risk), and gas mileage, in order to stay far, far away from the dreaded mini-van!


I wanted to know why, so I asked around. I only questioned current mini-van owners. Most of the people I know thoughtfully keep their negative remarks about mini-vans to themselves because they know I drive one. For that reason, I knew I wouldn't get much by way of honest answers when I asked why they had chosen to avoid the mini-plague. But current mini-van drivers might be more forthcoming, so I fired away:


"Did you ever NOT want to drive a mini-van? Why? What changed your mind? How do you feel about it now?" It went something like that, and these are my results:


Friend A stated that she never thought she would drive a mini-van because they were, "Way un-cool". This came out of the mouth of a thirty-something with three kids. I chuckled to myself. She continued,


"My mom drove one" (and we all know moms are never cool ), and this friend said that it wasn't until she and her husband looked at every SUV on the market before she finally gave up and gave the mini-vans a glance.


"I found a mini-van that had all the things that the SUVs had: windows that went down in the back and towing ability. But the van we looked at also had tons of storage space, window shades, power doors, good gas mileage, comfy seats in the back; and the SUVs just didn't compare"


So Friend A tossed her "cool" out the driver's window of her new mini-van and proceeded to tell her friends about how great mini-vans are in attempt to convert them. I chuckled more to myself, because I know this person well, and I was so tickled by her thought process. Perhaps if all her cool friends drove mini-plagues too, she could feel like she'd either a)regained her cool, or b)could enjoy the company of other un-cool, but satisfied mini-plague drivers. Mini-misery loves company.


Friend B had a surprise in store for me. She stated, very matter of factly, that she NEVER had a negative thought about driving a mini-van. She said she wanted one before her first child was born, and knew she would drive one shortly after she gave birth. She listed off all the features that other mini-van drivers cite as their top reasons for choosing this type of vehicle, and insisted that she never second-guessed her choice, felt "un-cool" as Friend A has, and would happily drive her mini-van through her kids' childhoods, if not beyond.


I then wondered if mini-van disgust has anything to do with how women regard their own mothers. Do those of us who have mostly positive views of our mothers (and then by extension, perhaps motherhood altogether) look more kindly on the switch to a vehicle that clearly identifies us as a woman with kids? We pondered that together for a while...she has a great fondness for her mother and her relationship to her, so our theory gained some credibility. Friend A does not have the most positive view of her mother, so again we noted an increase in our theory's strength.


Not to give too much credit to just 2 mini-plaguers, I moved onto Friend C. She said she had never given much thought to driving a mini-van until her growing family forced her to look at options beyond a sedan. She found a brand she liked, a style, and color, and she and her husband made a seamless switch to the land of the Mini's. She only had positive things to say about how convenient trips and errands were in their van. Her two negatives were that her non-mini friends relied on her for transportation for outings since their vehicles didn't have adequate people capacity (and she was stuck with the gas bill), and that on a very rare occasion she noticed that she missed the window-down-radio-blaring-freedom that seemed to pass away as she transitioned to a "family" vehicle. Then again, she said, she wouldn't have that experience in an SUV either. It was something unique to a small sedan, she supposed. And to life before kids.


Our latest "Rhonda" is our favorite so far. She has introduced us to the luxury of leather and heated seats (won't be much use for that here in the South for several months). We are enjoying the built-in DVD player- much, much more than our kids! The seats all the way to the back row are incredibly comfortable, and everything configures just the way we want it. The sun shades, under-floor storage, and plethora of cup-holders are a fun bonus, and those power sliding doors are God's gift to mothers with only two hands.


This van was my husband's anniversary present to me, and for Mother's Day, he's popping a "Choose Life" license plate on it for me. As I enjoy this new toy, I think how silly it is that safety, comfort, and convenience would take second (or third) row seating to "cool".





Friday, May 1, 2009

Wilt Weeds, Wilt!!


I love gardening. I mean I genuinely love designing our landscape, learning about new plants, putting them in, and than watching them add a new dimension to our home. I think this is one reason I was not really content with gardening when we lived in Florida. Although many plants grew exceptionally well there, the seasons don't change, and that really takes away from my delight in watching leaves change, bulbs sprout new flowers, and the burst of color that comes with the Spring. I suppose I appreciate the emergence of a hundred different hues when even the grass is brown all winter.

I draw the line at weeding, however. I hate weeds. But more distasteful than the weeds, are the toxic chemicals most folks use the get rid of them.

Nobody likes to pull weeds, only to have the root stubbornly remain in place as the top of the weed abruptly snaps of and sends her body flying in the other direction. Or in the case of our briars, the thorns bully their way through the toughest glove, leaving a puncture wound that reminds the human who's boss.

The result is the booming chemical weed-killer industry. One of the nastiest of these is Round-Up; Monsanto's creation. If you've never heard of Monsanto, the company is worth looking into. They are behind NutraSweet, Bovine Growth Hormone, and Genetically Modified Seeds which produce the only plants that are impervious to Round-Up's deadly mist. Monsanto is worth it's own post, so I will get to that another day.

Back to my weed pulling dilemma: how to get the weed and its root without bruising my derriere and spraying down my legs (and lungs) with poison.

I rejoice that I have found a solution! It's literally a solution; a large container of high-potency vinegar mixed with yucca extract (a surfactant).

I spent $20-something on it, and poured some into a sprayer bottle. Then I headed out to spray our weeds, hoping that I wasn't wasting my money, time, and trigger-finger muscles.

The directions recommended that I mist each weed, and aim for a day when the weeds hadn't recently enjoyed rain water, and wouldn't for a few days to come....


I'm not the most patient lady on the planet, so it had rained within the last day or two, and the forecast predicted possible showers later that day. I crossed my fingers, and hoped for the best.

Aside from getting a wiff or two of very strong vinegar up my nose, and having a drop of the stuff find its way over to a paper cut on my thumb (which stung like crazy) it was one of my better weed-spraying experiences. I didn't obsess over how much toxic spray I was breathing in, if my clothes would expose my kids to harmful chemicals, or if over-spray would reach my organic potted veggies and fruits.

And the best part? The next day, all the weeds I sprayed were either brown, or were badly damaged and one their way out of my garden!! You can see in my photo that most of the little devils are brown and crispy, and only one survived. This is not unusual for any weed killer...so I'm very satisfied. On top of that, I didn't follow the directions to the letter, and it did drizzle a few hours after I sprayed.
If you want to give this stuff a try in your own garden, you can find it here. Keep in mind, it's not selective, so it'll kill everything (just like Round Up). Only spray it on the stuff you want gone!
For fellow gardeners: The top photo is of our creeping phlox, the middle one is dianthus which smells incredible (much like a carnation). Both are perennials!