Allergies

My hay fever has finally kicked in and I have a runny nose and itchy eyes. One of the benefits of old age is that I'm gradually outgrowing allergies. When I was younger the sneezing would start in early August but it now starts at the end of August and lasts till the end of September. I really think it could be because I'm not outside as much so I'm not exposed as badly.

My drug of choice is Claritin which works well for me because it doesn't make me dozy...at least not any dozier than normal. The sneezing is the worst part because it's so violent. Picture driving in heavy traffic and sneezing. No matter how hard you try, the stronger the sneeze the tighter your eyes close. And the constant tickle of a runny nose can cause road rage. It's better all around to take the occasional pill.

It doesn't help that allergy sufferers can't fully enjoy one of the most beautiful seasons of the year, either. I couldn't count the number of beautiful fall walks in the woods that were marred by my allergies.

I'm allergic to a few things...ragweed, cats, and penicillin. If I come in physical contact with a cat or it's dander the underside of my chin will start to itch, followed by itchy eyes and runny nose. If it wasn't for this I'd have a couple of cats in the house because I love them. It just isn't fair that I can't even pet them.

My grandmother used to tell me that allergies were inherited. She had them and my one daughter has them but, as far as I know, none of my grandchildren are afflicted so maybe the bad seed has died out. That would be a good thing.

Sex in Public Bathrooms

Another politician has disgraced himself by trying to solicit sex in a public bathroom. Gay men who do these things have their own little private code to alert others with the same interests. Apparently they sit on the john and tap their feet and then put their hands under the cubicle wall.

Interesting.

You never hear of gay women doing that. The only thing different that women do in public bathrooms (besides gossip, hair, and makeup) is occasionally to ask the lady in the next stall for toilet paper. Then she'll put her hand under the cubicle wall and....oh, oh! Do you suppose?

Money Spent on Books is Well Spent

My sister-in-law, Faye, and I went out for lunch today and then to Chapters (book store). She was on a hunt for three particular books, found none of them, but bought five books anyway. I wanted any book that explained carbohydrates to me in detail.

Chapters is a wonderful store. There are chairs to sit on and leisurely check through the books carefully before you spend money on them. There is a Starbuck's coffee section if you have a strong enough stomach to drink that awful stuff (they should have a Tim Horton's in there instead). I gathered up about a half dozen books on diabetes and carbohydrates and scanned them carefully before finding the ideal one for me.

I'd been confused about the number of carbohydrates I'm allowed to eat in a day (mistakenly thought 50 but it turns out I can have about 180...no wonder I've been worried). The book I ended up with..."Healing Gourmet, Eat to Beat Diabetes"...is full of information I need. It lists the carbs, fats, cholesterol, protein, and sodium allowed in 1200, 1600, and 2000 calorie diets with sample menus. It also has a glycemic index that clears up that mystery for me. I love this book.

Understand that I don't have diabetes yet but it's looming on the horizon whether I change my eating habits or not. I'm just trying to get a jump on learning how to eat healthier before I have no choice. From what I've learned so far, this is what every human being should do from birth.

I'm too cheap to buy brand new fiction books like Faye did but I didn't begrudge the $22.95 Cdn this book cost me. Well, maybe a little, but it really was money well spent.

My World Has Narrowed

You know what happens when you stay home too much? Your world narrows and that's what has happened to me. I am becoming bored.

So far this week I've only ventured out to buy groceries and there's not much interesting in that. My inspirations come only from T.V. news (which is depressing) and reading the local newspaper on the internet (too brief). I can see where people who are housebound become terribly self absorbed.

Speaking of which...I've become obsessed with carbohydrates. Since my latest blood tests show a sugar count that's a bit too high I've tried to change my eating habits. I've bought books and scoured the internet in quest of information to aid me in eating healthier. So far I'm just confused.

I don't eat much meat, thank heavens, because the carbs in beef are atrocious. My personal choice of chicken is pretty good and salmon, which I can tolerate, is excellent. I appear to be eating like a saint but when I try to count the carbs it seems way too high. Talk about being obsessed with food! This is ridiculous.

Life was so much easier when I could just drop into a McDonalds for burger and fries but that's what got me where I am today...forced to count carbs.

I was keeping a diary of my daily food intake but soon got bored with that. My goal these days is to consume food with the lowest possible carbohydrates so I eat lots of fresh and cooked vegetables, fruit in moderation, and very little beef. Anything high in sugar or carbs is a no-no. I think I can manage this.

I also have very good friends who care enough about me to nag me unmercifully if I screw up. Life is still pretty darned good!

Old Neighborhood Face Lift

My street is in chaos. My next door neighbor and the neighbor 2 doors on the other side are having their driveways repaved and I'm having 2 new windows put in. The construction vehicles on my little street make it look as though the whole neighborhood is being renovated.

These houses were all built around 1953 so they need the occasional face lift in order to remain livable. One of the nicest things about an older, well-kept neighborhood is that it looks so settled. The trees are full grown and the owners have finally figured out what grows best where.

My house is a storey and a half with a small, solid window on the landing going upstairs. That's one of the windows being replaced so, for the first time in 54 years it can be opened to allow the fresh air in. The other window being replaced is in the basement rec room. It will be a terrific improvement from the truly ugly window they put in when it was built.

There have been a lot of improvements made in my house this past year and I hope these windows are the last of it. It's costly and time consuming but I should recoup every penny spent when I sell the house in a few years.

Maintenance is of prime importance with older houses. It doesn't take long for a small repair job to become a major problem if not attended to quickly. I think the older houses are built better than new construction, too. This house is a double brick and that probably isn't done anymore.

I've always loved seeing work done on my house...it's like feathering your nest. My husband did all the renovations until he became sick but his heart was never really into it. He just did it to keep me happy. Now I have to hire someone to do the work and they only keep me happy as long as I pay them. One thing I've noticed, though...they whistle when they work.

Update on Car Crash

Last week I wrote a blog about how a speeding car being chased by police ended up with the car crashing and killing it's two occupants. It turns out that the driver of that speeding car was driving without a licence and reached 180 kph+ (approx. 100 miles per hour) before losing control of his car and crashing. The pursuing officers are being investigated.

Does any thinking person want their police officers to ignore someone speeding like that on city streets?

I, for one, want our streets kept as safe as possible and I'm forever thankful to the police officers who put their lives on the line every day to keep my world half-way civilized. They often have to deal with the worst elements of the population, taking verbal and physical abuse for only average wages.

Instead of blaming the police for giving chase to that car, someone should be shouting loud and clear to the dissenters...the young man had no driver's licence and was driving recklessly! If he crashed and died it was by his own hand and not the fault of the police. Put the blame where it's deserved.

Tar Baby

In a recent article in a community newspaper, a political candidate was referred to as a "tar baby". Is this 2007 or is it 1807? I like to think that we in Canada have far surpassed the time when people with dark skin could be insulted in this way, especially in a once respectable newspaper. The writer claimed he didn't know the meaning of the expression but that's impossible. It's an insult.

Back in the days when negroes had no voice and were treated shamefully as sub humans, there was a particular torture that was used on them if they "misbehaved". They were covered in hot tar and feathers. This is partly where the hated expression "tar baby" comes from.

I'm white skinned but I'll never identify myself with the monsters who committed crimes like this. They were crimes committed by bullies against defenseless people. My view is that slavery and prejudice was the result of ignorance and not something we can attribute to any race because it happened and is still happening in many cultures around the world.

Within my lifetime black skinned people went from having to sit in the back of the bus to running for the presidency of the United States. They didn't achieve this all by themselves but with the assistance of honorable white skinned people, too. I hope everyone remembers that when the occasional racist rears his ugly head.

The community newspaper mentioned is dropped in mailboxes once a week as a "freebee" but it's financially supported by it's advertisers. I'd be very surprised if many of their advertisers don't drop them. The editor, by not better policing his/her writers, may have been responsible for the demise of his/her newspaper.

Racism can't be tolerated in a multi-cultural society such as we live in. Over the years we've gained too much understanding and acceptance between races, religions, and nationalities to allow anyone to drag it back to the dark ages. None of us want to live like that ever again.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I had coffee at the mall with my sister again today and got to enjoy some interesting "people watching".

One little girl of about 4 years of age was left sitting alone at a table while her father stood in line for food and drink. Just a note...a predator could very easily have scooped that little girl up and carried her away before anyone noticed. I didn't see the father until much later so would have probably assumed the kidnapper was the father.

Anyway, once I noticed this little one sitting by herself I kept watch and thoroughly enjoyed the game she was playing with herself. She carried on a lengthy pretend conversation with an imaginary playmate, chattering away like children will do when in their own little world. All of a sudden her voice rose in indignation and she yelled at her imaginary friend, "I only had two beers!". Hilarious or what? I could just imagine her father cringing in whatever food line he was in. Some time later he joined her at the table and they consumed their yummies. Drama over but lots of musings in the crowd.

Then there was the lady sitting next to us that spoke loud enough for half the food court to hear. We learned that her "f...... ex and his f...... new wife" had custody of her children and she wanted her friends to find her a man. I think you'd have to really dislike a man to hook him up with this woman.

One little girl of maybe 2 had such a loud voice she could have been heard outside the mall. She wasn't crying or screaming, just trying to get her mother's attention. Her Mom was buying donuts and it was very important to the little girl that she get just the right one. It reminded me of one of my grandsons when he was that age. He was little and cute with a deep booming voice that could fill any room. He sounded like "Foghorn" if any of my readers are old enough to remember. Today he has a normal voice, thank heavens.

Well, another Sunday, another coffee or two, and many, many laughs. Life is good!

John Couey

John Couey has just been sentenced to death for the kidnapping, rape, and murder of a 9 year old little girl, Jessica Lundsford. I haven't followed the trial closely because the evidence against this monster was horrendous but I did watch the sentencing yesterday on T.V. One of the things Couey said in his defence was that "this sort of thing happens every day".

Is this a world where the rape and torture of a child is happening every day? If it is then we are all lost souls because we, the vast majority, haven't taken steps to stop it. Any person who would physically harm a defenceless child should never have the opportunity to do it again. They should be imprisoned for the rest of their lives and the cost in dollars should be worth the peace of mind to taxpayers.

So many of these child predators blame their own damaged childhood for their perversions but that is bull....! We are the masters of our own destiny and regardless of what happened in our past we can choose to do better. Child molesters choose to destroy a child.

John Couey is a lost soul with no chance of redemption and executing him will only make certain that he won't kill any more children. If he hadn't killed little Jessica he would have been back out on the streets within a few years and more children would have suffered.

Isn't it sad that our laws are so ineffective that it took the loss of Jessica's young life to stop John Couey from re-offending?

I admire the dignified way in which Jessica's father has conducted himself but, if it weren't for police protection, there would have been many people beating Couey to a bloody pulp for what he did to that poor child. Sometimes vigilante justice is warranted.

I haven't voted in a long time because I've lost faith in our politicians but I've decide to cast my vote for the first person who will see that child molesters are removed from society forever...no second chances. And I'll watch closely to see if they follow through with their promise.

To the bleeding heart liberals who believe child molesters can be rehabilitated...molesters don't deserve a second chance whether they decide to control themselves or not. The damage they do the first time (and remember that they've probably molested many children before they're ever caught!) has rendered them unfit for society.

Couey's mind must be a cesspool so he's living in his own personal hell right now. Unfortunately, there will be hundreds of thousands of taxpayer dollars spent trying to stop his execution. Lawyers on both sides will waste their limited time and resources on this man. If just a fraction of this energy and commitment was spent revising laws to keep molesters behind bars maybe our children would be able to safely play on the streets again.

Won't we ever learn?

Broke Down and Went Yard Saleing

I have been so good about not yard saleing because I have to get rid of the stuff I already have. This morning I couldn't fight it anymore and went out for about an hour. I made 2 purchases...an Elvis clock for 50 cents and 20 Disney ornaments all in the original boxes for $15. The clock will go into my sewing room and the ornaments (apparently worth $5+ each) will go on Ebay when I get to Florida. This is why I love yard saleing.

Speed Kills

Last week two young men lost their lives in a high speed chase. Officers saw their car racing at a high rate of speed and gave chase. At some point (I think it's when the escaping car is moving at a speed considered too dangerous for bystanders) the chase was called off. Moments later the young men's car went out of control and crashed, killing both men.

Now the grieving parents are searching for a scapegoat and, you guessed it, blame the police. I hope they'll reconsider once the initial shock of losing their children has worn off. It's sadly apparent that the culprits were the young men and not an officer of the law who was doing his job to protect the public at large.

We take our cars and our driving skill for granted but it only takes a momentary lapse of attention or ability and that car can easily become a speeding missile. The men who died probably thought they'd outrace a speeding ticket and ended up losing their lives instead.

A few years ago I was driving along a major highway at slightly over the speed limit when I heard a strange "ping" from one of the tires. Being the cautious person I am, I slowed down just a bit to listen more closely. Suddenly there was a tremendous bang and I amost lost control of my steering...the right front tire had blown out. I'll never forget how I had to manhandle the steering wheel just in order to get onto the shoulder of the road. If I'd been driving just 10 miles per hour faster I doubt I could have managed.

Another interesting story...last month I was again driving along a major highway and keeping up with traffic in the center lane. The inside and center lanes were pretty well bumper to bumper traffic but the outside lane was empty. A huge tractor trailer moved up behind me and the driver decided to tailgate me instead of passing in the outside lane. I can only guess that he was just bored and having a bit of dangerous fun or he simply didn't want to move into the outside lane.

I ignored him as best I could but the reality of a huge truck just inches away from my little car proved too much for me. I put my empty hand down on the seat next to me and then raised my closed fist up to my ear and pretended to be talking on a cell phone. Within moments the truck driver had backed way off and settled into the inside lane as far back from me as possible. He thought I was reporting him and that's what should be done to all tailgaters.

If I had to brake or even slow down while that truck was so close to me it would have mowed me down and caused a horrible accident which probably would have included many of the cars around us. Was his fun worth the loss of life...maybe even his own?

When we're speeding along the highway inside our cars it's like being in a cocoon and we tend to forget what a tangled mess of metal will do to our fragile bodies.

The families of the young men who died can't face how quickly their loved ones were taken away from them and they can't accept that their sons were responsible for their own fate. Blaming the police may be a diversion for their pain but it isn't fair.

What I'd like to see is one of those parents speak to high school students and explain to them how one reckless moment in a speeding car can end their lives...and leave their parents to grieve.

Damsel in Distress

We have a friend we refer to as "high maintenance". I don't mean she has expensive tastes but that she's someone who needs too much taking care of.

On a trip to a hotel she wasn't able to enter elevators or parking garages because she's claustrophobic. She took the stairs and waited in the room while the rest of us were left to deal with her luggage. She can't be left alone anywhere because she'll panic and huddle like a lost soul. This elderly woman has a helpless little girl quality that men love but that wears on the nerves of adult women.

This is a talented lady of my own age but heaven forbid she should ever find herself temporarily lost or she'd move in with anyone who rescued her. She is a true, modern day damsel in distress. "A" expects friends to wait on her and cater to her wishes. She praises us to others about how well we take care of her. What crap!

How does someone live for near 70 years and not learn how to take care of herself? There is no evidence from her background that this is the life she's been accustomed to but maybe that's the problem. The sad part is that she alienates her friends. We have enough to take care of just with ourselves and we're not about to adopt an old baby.

Many people struggle with handicaps but it doesn't prevent them from being strong and independant. Their self pride urges them to strive for independance.

I believe that "A" is representative of many females before the women's liberation movement of the 1960's. In those days we expected our husbands to work while we stayed home. We sat primly in the car while our male companion rushed around to open the door for us. We fainted when upset. Total crap!

The women's liberation movement was like a breath of fresh air in a stagnant society. For the first time legions of women began to realize that they were capable human beings. There had been many strong women throughout history but it took the likes of Germaine Greer and Gloria Steinem, to name only two, to drill the truth into our dulled brains. Males and females were equals...neither of higher status than the other.

"A" is stuck in the 50's. Too bad her pals are tough old broads who expect her to stand on her own two feet.

Back to School

In just a few short weeks it will be back to school for children aged 4 and up. No matter the age, the important thing is that they'll be going back to school.

I have 3 daughters I love more than life itself but when they were children I counted the moments each August until the day after Labor Day when my little darlings would spend most of the day from Monday to Friday in school. I'd close the door on their little backs at 8:45 A.M. and have blessed freedom until noon when they'd all come home for lunch. An hour of bedlam and then they'd head back to school and not return until 4:15 P.M. Those hours and minutes will forever be deeply imbedded into my brain.

In those days, teachers didn't take refresher courses during the school year. It was felt that anything new they needed to learn could be done over the 2 months summer hiatus they enjoyed. There was no such thing as a "snow day". If you could wade through the snow you were expected to get to school...just like getting to work for most of the world.

I remember the hush that fell over the house as the door closed behind my treasures on that long awaited day after Labor Day. It was palpable. When I ventured outdoors later in the morning even the neighborhood was serene. How strange to be outside in the warm sunshine and not hear the screeches of little children coming from almost every house on the block. It was really nice.

By 4:15 P.M. I'd had enough of the peace and quiet and couldn't wait to see my children. They'd storm into the house bringing me evidence of what they'd learned that day, pictures they'd painted, stories of their hours away from home. The house would come alive once more.

Still, I remember how much I enjoyed 8:46 A.M. the day after Labor Day back in the 1970's. Sigh!!

Recycled Plant Containers

I've gone on a few garden tours and some of the prettiest gardens are those where the gardener has used broken pottery or unusual items for planters. One gardener had actually used an old cowboy boot to hold a beautiful display of Impatiens (one of my favorite annuals).

I love to see damaged crockery made use of again in a garden. How sweet to see an old teapot, spout chipped, but made useful as a container for petunias or lobelia. Years ago I bought an old wooden shoe at a yard sale and planted impatiens in it for quite a few years before it rotted away.

When I brought home a new tree about 10 years ago, it came in a heavy duty black pot that seemed such a shame to throw away so I filled it with soil and continue to use it till this day as a planter in the yard.

A couple of years ago I was at my local Walmart store in Florida and discovered a large stack of black, plastic containers in the nursery with a "free" sign on them. Apparently they were used to deliver fresh flowers to the store and normally put in the trash but a smart employee had thought it wiser to give them to customers instead.

Many of the winter residents in my park rent their trailers so they either have to purchase flower containers or do without...it doesn't make much sense to purchase when you don't know if you'll be renting the same trailer from year to year. I took all of the free containers from Walmart and distributed them to renters who had only to punch a drainage hole in the bottom and, voila, excellent planters!

I've bought some very nice pottery containers at yard sales...some people are only happy with flawless gardens. Personally, I think the chipped and faded pots give your garden character. I have one large ceramic pot in my back garden that has such large holes in it that its really held together by the chrysanthemum plant it surrounds. By the way, replant those Mother's Day chrysanthemums because most will reflower for many years to come.

I also save the heavier plastic pots that come with my annuals. They're stackable so don't take up much room and are perfect to use for giving away some of your perennials when you split them.

My own garden is eclectic...a little bit of this and a little bit of that. It's fun, and economic, to split a healthy perennial and transplant it somewhere else in your garden...or share it with a neighbor.

I went in search of a spectacular hosta for one spot in my back garden and found prices too high to justify so I'll wait till Spring and hit the yard sale trail. Enterprising gardeners often split their perennials then and put unneeded pieces in their yard sales. In fact, I have a large, beautiful hosta in my front garden that just may need to be split next year.

Recycling can save you money and make your gardens unique. All you need is imagination.

Writing

I love to write. If I analyze why it's probably because you get to put out your thoughts uninterrupted by anyone else who might have a comment to make or a story to tell. Writing is completely narcissistic. It's all about me, babe!

My friend, Carole, and I were discussing my stories (LOL!) over a glass of wine and I tried explaining how terrifying it was for me to bare my pitiful abilities on a blog where anyone could read and critique them. When I finally got the nerve to click on that "publish" button I nearly had a stroke! I was "outed".

But then an interesting thing happened. I was also liberated. It stopped mattering to me whether what I wrote was good or not...it just mattered that I had an outlet. In my own little way I was having fun and it wasn't hurting anyone.

I've said that blogging is the equivalent of baring your boobs but maybe I exaggerated a bit. Maybe it's only the equivalent of showing some cleavage. Readers really only get to see the top of one's imagination.

When I was in high school I always got top marks for stories I wrote. It was, and still is, my belief that you can make a story out of absolutely anthing. To prove it, I once wrote a story about a comb and got an "A". Through my adult years I wrote constantly but kept every story hidden from view. My granddaughter, Lisette, has no such compunctions and she's already developing a terrific talent for writing. If I'd had her confidence when I was her age I think I would be a better writer now.

Wishes for what could have been won't get us anywhere so I'm going to take today and make the best of it. Blogging isn't my life but it sure has become one of the most fun parts of my day. And that's the way it is.

Doing What You Have To Do

I just wrote an e-mail to my sister-in-law telling her about removing my husband's arbor in the backyard and saying how guilty I felt in doing it. It feels as though I'm removing a part of his memory. She wrote back and told me not to feel guilty because we do what we have to do and life does go on.

I thought about that expression...doing what we have to do...and realized we spend most of our lives doing just that. We don't really want to get up in the early morning to go to school or to work but we do it because we have to in order to live a decent life.

I didn't want to get married at 17 but I did it because I had to in order to build a family for my baby. I didn't want to stop having the fun of a teenager but I did it because I had to show more responsibility to my husband and child.

Over the years you do many things because you have to...attend boring functions, tolerate nasty people, change poopy diapers, put up with uncompromising spouses, etc., etc., etc. Somehow, when you've become old enough to retire, you've earned the right to stop doing a lot of those things.

I pretty well do what I want to now. I prefer to stay home and play on the computer than go to a boring function! I hang out with the people I'm comfortable with and who always make me laugh. Rude and nasty people have no place in my life. I still do housework because I have to, though. That chore can't be ignored. The grandchildren are long out of diapers but there's a greatgrandchild in the future. Life does go on.

Yes, you do what you have to and then you rest.

Blessed Saturday

Saturdays are special. It is the day of the week that we, employed and retired alike, get those odd jobs done...the ones we've put off until we had just a little extra time.

About 4-5 years ago my husband built an arbor at the back of the yard to grow what my Chinese neighbor called "long squash". It was a joy to behold as the vines of the long squash (also provided by our neighbor) grew up and along the arbor and the fruit began to grow, and grow, and grow. We had squash almost 5' long.

Dennis built the arbor out of untreated wood for some reason and this year it began to list. I haven't grown the long squash since he passed away so I really have no use for the arbor anymore and decided to tear it down.

It pulled out of the ground easily because the wood underground was rotted away. Then I used a hammer to knock the side and top supports off. The heavier frame was screwed together and I can't believe I found the right screwdriver for the job on my first trip to the workroom. I think my husband used an electric screwdriver because the screws were deeply imbedded in the wood and I had to use some muscle (LOL!) to get them out. All the pieces were tossed behind the tool shed but I plan to hire someone to cart all the junk behind there away some day.

Then I got a pail full of good soil, added half a bag of grass seed, and reseeded the bare spots left behind. As the water sprinkler arched back and forth, I sat on a lawn chair with my feet up and a can of Diet Pepsi in my hand and hoped the seed would grow into lucious green grass before the birds ate it all.

Saturday job done.

Casinoing Again

Yesterday I had a choice of cleaning windows or going to the casino. I thought long and hard for about 2 seconds and locked up the house with the dirty windows and headed for the casino.

I love the atmosphere of the casino. Lights are bright, people are too busy at their chosen machine to notice your presence (somewhat like a government office), and there is hope in the air.

I talk to people who sit beside me but only if they speak first. Yesterday was really interesting. At my age I can carry on long, silly conversations with younger men because there's no worry that by talking to them I'm giving them the impression I'm looking for a date. I'm more careful with men my own age, although they probably don't know they're my age and think they're just being nice to an older woman.

I sat between 2 younger men yesterday and we joked for about an hour. One man finally left his machine in disgust after putting $500 into it. I felt sorry for him but couldn't get over how crazy we gamblers can be. Think of what $500 can buy you in the real world!

I had a good paying machine at one time that kept me in my seat for about an hour and a half but I had to leave it because I had to go to the bathroom. I hate waste so I told the elderly lady next to me that my machine was paying well and she took it over when I left. I love to see other people win, too. I hope it continued to do well for her.

I overheard one lady with a strong American accent saying to someone applauding her big win. "But it's in Canadian dollars!", she said. I would have been happy with a win that paid in food stamps.

There were a lot of seniors at the casino which is a testament to our lucrative pension plans. I don't think many of us go to the casino expecting to win big bucks but just to enjoy the excitement generated every time we gamble a coin.

I lost all my money and came back home. The windows are still dirty.

Home Decorating Shows

I have a weakness for watching home decorating shows although I rarely follow their advice. When I had the basement redone I did get a little wild and had the top half of the walls painted red. It looks good, actually, but I couldn't live with it in the upstairs rooms. I like light and that's all there is to it.

I've noticed that decorators like to paint rooms the opposite to what they are presently. If they're light, they go dark and vice versa. Another thing decorators like to do is to take away ceiling fans. I can't figure this out because the fans are there for a purpose. I also like ceiling fans.

On some of the shows I'm aghast because the decorating techniques are obvious dust catchers. Once they glued straw (hay) all over a bedroom wall. Another time they glued small silk flowers all over a bathroom wall. You can't do that!!

One thing I've learned from these shows is that the minimalist look will sell a house faster than one cluttered with the usual stuff of everyday life. I'm so far away from the minimalist look it's pathetic.

My sister-in-law, Joyce, has one of the best decorated homes in the family and she follows only her own code of ethics. Her home is almost minimalist, spotless clean, and homey at the same time. Maybe she should have been a decorator.

Blood Test Results

I don't like seeing doctors so I don't have regular check-ups. I had to visit my excellent family doctor a couple of weeks ago and he began nagging me that I haven't had blood work done in 3 years so I gave in and had it done.

There must be many people who feel as I do...what you don't know won't hurt you, right? Well, the test results came back and last week my doctor's nurse phoned me. I knew I was in trouble when I heard her voice saying the doctor wanted to see me again. I asked if the blood test results weren't up to par and she said they were a little higher than he liked.

I saw him today and you'd have to know my sweet doctor to picture his worried face as he read me the results. My years of poor eating habits were slowly turning me into a diabetic. Apparently, my love of pasta is going to have to be replaced with a tolerance for salads. My weight was also going to have to decrease in order to stave off the inevitable diabetes for a few more years.

He's also sending me for more blood tests...I just know they'll give him more reason to worry and he'll make me come in to see him once again. I hate taking medication so I'm going to have to listen to his advice whether I want to or not.

Goodbye pasta. Goodbye baklava. Goodbye to a lot of the good stuff. I hope being healthy doesn't make me crabby.