I've been juicing every morning for several months but today I think I hit the perfect mix.
Watermelon with the rind
Apple
Kale
Parsley
Little lemon
Little ginger
Celery
Delicious!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
A great morning-starter juice
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Pay Attention
I'll start off this post by saying that this story has a happy ending. I am personally the kind of person who needs to know these things when stories go down a dark path, so I'll do you a favor, even if you're not the same.
New Year's eve and day events hold an unnerving portent for the year to come for the superstitious amongst us. I'd like to claim that I am of a rational, cynical nature, but clearly I lean toward the earnest and spiritual, and well, superstitious. (I think I resist this because I am drawn to the opposite kind of person, but so the saying goes.) So it was especially devastating when we discovered that our beloved 5 year old beagle, Linus, was nowhere to be found at 3am, January 1, 2009.
We had hosted a particularly epic New Year's Eve party. I say epic not because it was so amazingly fabulous for our guests, but for us it was because we hadn't hosted a party for partying's sake in over four years, we've been feeling very domestic and thirty-something and this truly wasn't either of those things, our two year old was safely out of the house, I was fitting into 13 year old clothes, and magically no one got into a conflict and the energy was great. These are all things parents of young children need to experience. It ended a year of heavy events that are obvious to all.
Sitting down to recap with our friends who had stayed because they were too drunk to drive (although wasn't that everyone?) we noticed our little buddy was no where to be found. We did the usual routine of calling, but he didn't come running. A lightbulb: the fireworks we shot off at midnight (we live in New Mexico) had scared the poor bastard off through his invisible fence. After an hour of searching the perimeter of our home, we gave up in exhaustion, only to rise with the sun and start again. We canvased the neighborhood, posting those horrible signs with a pathetically adorable animal under the header LOST. Our torment and self-hatred grew by the second. We slept an hour after our sleep-deprivation grew dangerous. We picked up our child who blissfully didn't seem to connect the dots. When we got home, she would occasionally, bizarrely, squeal with delight "He's home!" and run to the door. Call it two year old wish fulfillment. All day I called animal control, the police department, the shelter, all who communicated to me that animal services of all kinds were closed for the holiday.
By the next morning, my grief was as palpable and painful as when I lost my father and then my first dog a month later. Only it felt worse in some ways because I felt so deeply responsible. I found a service on-line which I cannot recommend more highly: www.findtoto.com. They'll call 500 people in a radius around your house for $125. Our friends & neighbors received the calls, which were of some comfort. Then, we were released from our suffering at 9AM when the animal shelter called to say they had our Linus in custody.
How does this fall under the advice header, or the parental header? Because of the moral of the story. Before the party, I had a thought: we should have Linus spend the night with our toddler at the grandparents house as well. I brushed the thought aside, thinking of all the parties I'd been to with wandering dogs and content with the knowledge that our dog never roams. You can imagine that tape replaying in my head for the 36 hours he was missing. And I think of all the small accidents with my child...that cabinet door is open, but can a 7 month old really pull that glass pan down on her foot? Well, yes. The 9 month old is cruising really well on that flagstone step, should I move closer in case she falls? Well, yes, and my that's a nice shiner she's got there. Those are small accidents. But you know the larger ones have that grain of a thought, a moment of "could that really happen?" Of course it could. Hear that voice, pay attention, ACT on it however small or irrational it may seem. I recently woke up with a momentary panic regarding all the hair elastics my two year old owns with those ceramic baubles at the end. As soon as I was awake, they were all stored safely away for when I feel she is old enough for them not to present a choking hazard. A long shot? Probably, but if you think it, it could happen. My advice, again: Pay attention. Act. You'll never be sorry.
New Year's eve and day events hold an unnerving portent for the year to come for the superstitious amongst us. I'd like to claim that I am of a rational, cynical nature, but clearly I lean toward the earnest and spiritual, and well, superstitious. (I think I resist this because I am drawn to the opposite kind of person, but so the saying goes.) So it was especially devastating when we discovered that our beloved 5 year old beagle, Linus, was nowhere to be found at 3am, January 1, 2009.
We had hosted a particularly epic New Year's Eve party. I say epic not because it was so amazingly fabulous for our guests, but for us it was because we hadn't hosted a party for partying's sake in over four years, we've been feeling very domestic and thirty-something and this truly wasn't either of those things, our two year old was safely out of the house, I was fitting into 13 year old clothes, and magically no one got into a conflict and the energy was great. These are all things parents of young children need to experience. It ended a year of heavy events that are obvious to all.
Sitting down to recap with our friends who had stayed because they were too drunk to drive (although wasn't that everyone?) we noticed our little buddy was no where to be found. We did the usual routine of calling, but he didn't come running. A lightbulb: the fireworks we shot off at midnight (we live in New Mexico) had scared the poor bastard off through his invisible fence. After an hour of searching the perimeter of our home, we gave up in exhaustion, only to rise with the sun and start again. We canvased the neighborhood, posting those horrible signs with a pathetically adorable animal under the header LOST. Our torment and self-hatred grew by the second. We slept an hour after our sleep-deprivation grew dangerous. We picked up our child who blissfully didn't seem to connect the dots. When we got home, she would occasionally, bizarrely, squeal with delight "He's home!" and run to the door. Call it two year old wish fulfillment. All day I called animal control, the police department, the shelter, all who communicated to me that animal services of all kinds were closed for the holiday.
By the next morning, my grief was as palpable and painful as when I lost my father and then my first dog a month later. Only it felt worse in some ways because I felt so deeply responsible. I found a service on-line which I cannot recommend more highly: www.findtoto.com. They'll call 500 people in a radius around your house for $125. Our friends & neighbors received the calls, which were of some comfort. Then, we were released from our suffering at 9AM when the animal shelter called to say they had our Linus in custody.
How does this fall under the advice header, or the parental header? Because of the moral of the story. Before the party, I had a thought: we should have Linus spend the night with our toddler at the grandparents house as well. I brushed the thought aside, thinking of all the parties I'd been to with wandering dogs and content with the knowledge that our dog never roams. You can imagine that tape replaying in my head for the 36 hours he was missing. And I think of all the small accidents with my child...that cabinet door is open, but can a 7 month old really pull that glass pan down on her foot? Well, yes. The 9 month old is cruising really well on that flagstone step, should I move closer in case she falls? Well, yes, and my that's a nice shiner she's got there. Those are small accidents. But you know the larger ones have that grain of a thought, a moment of "could that really happen?" Of course it could. Hear that voice, pay attention, ACT on it however small or irrational it may seem. I recently woke up with a momentary panic regarding all the hair elastics my two year old owns with those ceramic baubles at the end. As soon as I was awake, they were all stored safely away for when I feel she is old enough for them not to present a choking hazard. A long shot? Probably, but if you think it, it could happen. My advice, again: Pay attention. Act. You'll never be sorry.
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