Home Remedies

Have you noticed that when you have a cold, flu, or other illness, or when you sustain an injury people will be very caring and helpful. Inevitably they all seem to have a home remedy to cure the ailment. Often they work. If you recall all the remedies we were told on how to cure or prevent a mosquito bite itch while we were in Ecuador we heard plenty. In the end though, time was the cure.

The topic sprang to mind this morning as I looked again at the huge burn I got on the weekend, courtesy of my lawnmower. I look like a branded calf with a nice big C on my forearm. At first I didn’t realize how badly I had burned myself but as I continued to feel the throb I went into the house, applied an icecube for several minutes and then put egg white on the burn to prevent scarring. I don’t think I waited more than three minutes before I attended to the burn but that was long enough to cause the burn to run deeper into the skin with the result that I now have a pretty ugly looking scar on my arm. I only added the egg white for 2 days which was my second mistake, I should have continued using the egg until the burn was gone. Now I will end up with a permanent scar on my arm. It will go nicely with the big one on my upper arm which was the result of a scratch from a barbed wire fence.

The story of that scar is quite funny. It happened on the momentous occasion of my mother’s pseudo 75^th birthday. Part of the event was raft racing on the creek that runs through my brother’s property. My sister Jeanette and I were partners in one boat and when they said “go” we ran like maniacs to get down to the creek, hauling the stupid raft with us. I hauled the raft over the fence and then climbed through it ripping my arm as I went. I didn’t think much of it because just as that was happening my eyes beheld Jeanette rolling down the hill to the water. It wasn’t a graceful roll. She was bumping and leaping as she rolled (don’t ask me how that is possible but she was). Apparently as I was crawling through I somehow ended up hauling Jeanette over before she was ready with the result that she lost her footing and made this horrific journey down to the creek. Jeanette ended up wrenching her knee but despite the pain both of us scrambled into the raft and made our way down the creek to the finish line, though we hardly got any flags along the way because SOMEONE had cheated and got there first!

Fortunately I had a tetanus shot so I didn’t need to worry too much about not seeing to the scratch right away and quite frankly it didn’t seem that deep to me at the time. I was pretty amazed to discover that I even got a scar and that it has lasted 3 years is even more surprising to me. It’s definitely permanent. To think a grown woman could cause such damage to herself is kind of scary. Can you imagine what I can get up to in the next 30 years? I need a home remedy for caution.

Have I mentioned the cure for bee sting?

Customer Service

Customer Service is actually an oxymoron for customer aggravation. At least that was my experience yesterday when I tried to straighten out my Sears account for the second time in 6 weeks. The person I spoke to yesterday was the most obnoxious, unhelpful moron I have ever had the misfortune to speak with. He seemed to take pleasure in misconstruing what I said, deliberately lied, prevaricated and in the end infuriated me to the point of no return. When I get angry I get LOUD. I only get angry when I know that I am in the right and I definitely know that I am right in this instance. When a person has a credit on their account, how can you possibly be in the wrong? When you have been a customer in good standing for 25 years, how can you be in the wrong? When you have the equivalent of a triple A credit rating, how can you be in the wrong? Lastly, when you are the customer, how can you be in the wrong?

Apparently this individual who undoubtedly hails from India hasn’t been taught elementary customer service. You know what he quoted to me? The list of how many times I hung up on the collection agency. You think? Two days after my first call where I had assumed everything had been straightened out I got a call from the collection agency. I told the person “please speak to the store because this has been straightened out” and I hung up. Since then I have had at least one call per week (and who knows how many more that I simply don’t answer). Anyone who knows me will tell you that the minute I hear that space between pickup and some machine kicking in, I hang up. So when this fellow said I had hung up that was actually untrue because I never spoke to anyone except the first time – I haven’t spoken to anyone since. The fact that I spoke to the collection agency that one time was a fluke where the human was on the phone immediately. And I don’t have a problem speaking with a human and naturally when I heard “Sears” I wanted to know if there was a problem. But to hear that they wanted to collected – excuse me, but I have a credit. You think maybe I would be annoyed? ANNOYED, yes, I was ANNOYED.

After cooling down somewhat yesterday I started to compose a letter to Sears but I wasn’t cooled down enough to review it and send it off. And I still haven’t determined what ultimate action I want. All I know is that I got royally cheesed off when I was simply trying to straighten out the mess of having said yes to changing from a store credit card to a Mastercard. My advice is DON’T DO IT. I should have left well enough alone and stayed with my old store credit card. Now I don’t think I can even shop in Sears, I am so irritated with the experience.

Hazel, in 2011 the customer is always wrong.

Thunder and Lightening

We had a terrific storm in the night and then the power went out at 4:14 a.m. so I wasn’t able to turn the computer on this morning. It really is amazing how dependent we are with all our inventions. I was completely blind fumbling in the extreme dark this morning, unable to see a thing and naturally unable to find the matches to light my candles. I also could not find my flashlight which is usually by my bedside and let’s just say it has mysteriously disappeared.

Electricity is probably our greatest invention. It’s what drives all our other conveniences such as washing machines, stoves, fridges, toasters, electric kettles, irons. Notice it’s all the kitchen conveniences that I mention first. Sure, there are televisions, radios, electric guitars and what not but for a woman, the essentials are in the kitchen. Not for me the pounding of laundry on rocks, using paddles or washerboards, ringing my hands raw. I mentally shudder at the thought. Back in the day our grandmothers made their own bread, jams, and jelly. They knit the socks of their thirteen offspring and the husband who took off sailing for two years at a time. My great grandmothers also worked the farm while their husbands were fishing or sailing as a merchant marine.

Can you imagine raising a dozen children, running a large household without electricity plus run a farm with almost no help? They used oxen to pull the plow, no tractor yet. No going to the store for bread, meat or clothing, that was also prepared by the little woman. One of my great grandmothers also dried her own fish and had enough left over to sell back to the grocer! Talk about intrepid.

And what flashed through my head when the lights went out?

“Thank God I got my coffee before the power went off!”

We’ve come a long way, baby.

Clods

Many, many years ago I was a faithful reader of Ann Landers and on one particular day she wrote a response that included the term “insensitive clod”. I thought it was extremely appropriate in the circumstances and have used it many times as the need arose. It just has a certain cutting edge to it that works much better than any curse word. The other day I discovered another sort of clod, the uncouth clod. This is what happened.

As always I was extremely early for my medical appointment, so much so that the doors were not even opened yet so I sat in my car just outside the doors and waited. As it got closer to 8:30 a couple arrived and stood in front of the door. Then a third person arrived and I thought I better get outside and join the lineup. As I did so a fourth person arrived and then a fifth. There were 3 men and 3 women including myself now waiting. The doors opened. Three men streamed in, the third one literally, and I mean literally, ran in front of me. Uncouth clods, that is what I thought as I got my ticket and stared at them sitting in a row. They looked smug like they had won the lottery rather than just beating out three women going in for blood work.

As I sat there for the next 45 minutes awaiting my turn I puzzled about the lack of chivalry in this small town. One would think that there wasn’t the same hustle and bustle in a small town as there is in the big city but apparently clod-dom is alive and well in this little hick town. I shouldn’t be surprised but I have to say when I saw that old man running ahead of me I was amazed to the point of speechlessness. I’m not sure I will get over it. All I can say is that I behaved like a lady and didn’t say a word but if looks could wither they would have all three turned into shrivelled bits of corn.

By the way, I’ve seen the same sort of smarmy behaviour in the Tim Horton lineup. Men in expensive business suits slithering up the line looking for someone they might remotely know, then they chat them up and yes, they sneak ahead in the lineup. I think the same thing, uncouth clods. Warren K. Cook or not, you are nothing but a clod in a suit. I mentally see the hayseeds falling out of their hair and mud clunking off their sparkling black shoes. You can dress them up but you still can’t make a gentleman out of a clod. That comes from within.

So, are you a gentleman or a clod? Women are watching you for the answer.

Bring It On

There was a movie with this name about cheerleaders a few years ago which was all about excellence and competition. Girl stuff. I like that phrase, it is challenging but also fun.

Last night I was reading my Zoomer magazine which was loaded with articles about How To Be 100. Did you know there were 6,000 centenarians in Canada? The oldest documented person was 122 years old and 164 days? Impressive. She gave up smoking at 117! Just like the documentary Barbara Walters did a few years ago the findings have something similar – joy of living and a sense of humour. Well I have both in spades so I should be good for 116 don’t you think?

If only my doctors would agree. And there is the nub of the matter. Taking care of one’s health has to become a priority if you “have a plan” (that’s my code for living to 116). I know what I need to do, eating healthy, exercising in moderation and going to the doctor(s) regularly. The last two I am fine with and generally do the correct things. But the eating healthy is difficult for me, mostly because I am lazy but give myself the excuse that I am tired, it’s not easy to cook for one (throwing away fruits and vegetables is wasteful) and so on and so on. Some people can get away with being sloppy with their diet but I am not one of them.

I’m not beating myself up today because I have actually been very good over the last few months. The only thing left to do is give up sweets but I don’t know that that will happen. But cutting down, this I can do.

It’s a gorgeous morning in the countryside, the sun is shining, there is a slight breeze to cool down the day, the grass is green and the sky is blue. Today the plan is to buy the longed for barbeque and a new riding lawn mower. I’m hoping we can fit both into the truck but if not it will be a two-tripper. Things are coming together.

So summer – bring it on!

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Years ago I was told by our family company’s accountant that “I could be intimidating”. I was considerably shocked at that statement because I had always considered myself a pretty mild kind of person. However his subordinate had used that as an excuse for not doing her work and I straightened that out pretty quickly (and just making that statement does make me sound a little intimidating, doesn't it?) I think being told one is “intimidating” is rather aggressive behaviour on the one doing the talking or perhaps I am being defensive because it isn’t a very attractive characteristic to be talked about? At the time I was in my mid thirties so if I was intimidating back then, what am I now?

If a woman has confidence it can sometimes be off putting to certain people, male or female. If a woman knows her job well, or her subject well, again, it can make other people uncomfortable. If a woman expresses her opinion with confidence or enthusiasm it can again be disturbing to others. And if you change that from “woman” to “man” everything changes. Then he is passionate about his work, intelligent and dynamic. What a difference a word makes. It is still a very sexist world out there but give yourself a little shake and edit your thought processes today. Look at the women around you today with fresh eyes and see if they are passionate, intelligent and dynamic rather than a bitch.

I’m not sure why I picked this subject this morning because I am certainly not feeling intimidating nor has there been any conversation about this theme in ages. I feel quite the opposite, relaxed and ready for a long weekend. But yes, I am confident and enthusiastic and nobody better mess with me. But all in a nice way. J

Camaraderie

Yesterday I had the pleasure of having lunch with a large group celebrating an engineer’s retirement. I was the only woman among a group of 19 men and so I got to hear a lot of talk. Who says only women can buzz at a lunch table has obviously never been listening well. But as I listened to the talk what came out of it was work, work, work. Men talk about their work. They talk about other colleague’s work. Seldom if ever does their personal lives get in the way of their talk much less as a topic of conversation.

Every single one of the men at the lunch was working even though some of them had ostensibly retired several years before. Clearly men define themselves by their work and when they are not working they are at a loose end. All of them find their work interesting (I mean all of the men at this table) and they are passionate about their work. It was a pleasure to hear them talk but I was also mentally shaking my head. Women do not think in this way at all, not even the ones who are passionate about their work. They still talk about things other than work and I can pretty much guarantee that when a woman retires she is definitely retired. No going back for her.

It really is true, men are from Mars and women are from Venus. We think differently. Men truly have a one track mind whereas women juggle more than one or two items in their minds at all times. Multitasking is very female.

And one last thing, I feel very privileged to be part of this terrific group, even though I am only on the fringe of things. What a pleasure to bring them all together for good food and good conversation. It gave me a warm feeling to be appreciated also. Mixing the mix is great fun!

Royal Visit Eminent

The media is stirring up excitement for Will and Kate but I think there is a genuine feeling of love for this young couple. William has grown up in the public eye, adored for himself as much as his mother Diana and his chosen bride seems very sweet. Like the rest of the world I truly hope they have a long and happy marriage. Calgary is always wild and busy during Stampede Week but this year we have the added cache of having the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge here. It’s going to be a zoo on the roads starting Thursday but this too shall pass!

I have a cute story. Going home last week Lisa began speaking of the visit by saying “when the Duch and Duchess . . . . “ and we started laughing so hard we never did hear the rest of the story. It was just one of those slips of memory that came out but it was so cute and also perfectly normal. I remember thinking when I was young “why a duchess and not a dukess?” It is after all Count and Countess; Viscout and Viscountess; Prince and Princess. Yes, yes, King and Queen – but that is quite different, isn’t it?

Words are funny things. Remember my little swanlings – or rather cygnets? Ducks and ducklings; chickens and chicks; and then these little cygnets. Why? Because too much perfection and fluidity is boring. We need to shake things up a bit.

Myself, I shall be enjoying my day off during Parade Day. I shudder to think of the crowds that will be bustling about the downtown core on Friday. I will watch from afar.

Starting Over

The ever constant theme of weight loss returns again. Just when I am on the path of righteousness, I mean exercise, what happens? My body falls apart. Is there a message there for me? Well, yes, of course. It means that I am not supposed to stop exercising since exercise will prevent this old body of mine from falling apart. Did I know this before the latest incident, of course. But I have a million excuses or reasons for stopping and that just can’t continue.

Remember, I have a plan. I plan on living to a ripe old age and one needs their health to do that! There is no point in being old if I am decrepit too. A person would have to be living under a rock not to have some exposure to all the Right Things To Do to stay healthy. And yet how many of us do the work? Sadly it is a very small percentage.

So here I am starting over again. I have a gimp leg still and the doctor has forbidden me to get on the treadmill until I am back in shape but that doesn’t mean I can’t do my yoga, weight training or pilates. I’ve proven that I can get up in the morning and write a blog for 30 minutes so rather than sit at the stop waiting for my carpool buddy I can take 30 minutes to do my exercise.

Thumper “get me my uniform”!

Sunday Sunshine

I’ve spent two hours working on the front lawn with a little weeding kicked in for good measure. Time for a good hot soak and then I plan to play the Lady of Leisure. The best way to do that is not to go back outside because there is the whole East side beckoning to me. I took a stroll over there before I came in and I so want to start working that area but the old hip is protesting furiously so I better err on the side of caution and call it quits for today. Inspecting the front I notice some of my honeysuckle bushes have died and I think that is all that water they stood in for six weeks. It has been so wet I’m surprised we haven’t heard incidents of malaria, typhoid or cholera!

The deck is finished and it looks fabulous. While Erik worked away I ate watermelon and cheered him on. Next step – new BBQ.

Goodness, but we had a wind storm blow through here that knocked down a huge tree (dead) and I just feel grateful that I wasn’t standing close to it! While it is still blowing now it is not nearly the hurricane winds of a couple of hours ago. Nature is cruel, but nature is true. My father used to say that. I see that in the mornings when Thumper or Cherie bring me their offerings of mice, sparrows and moles. They just can’t help themselves!

Well, it has been a beautiful long weekend, with excellent weather, good company and some achievements. I hope everyone else has had a great a holiday as I’ve had.

Finding Bliss

Another perfect day in the countryside! And more promised. Is this bliss or is this heaven? The only downside right now is that I am giving myself a break with the garden because it seems my hip is starting to get better so I better not fool around. After all “tomorrow is another day”.

Speaking of Scarlett, I ran across a humorous sketch which mirrors my all time favourite Carol Burnett spoof. Scarlett (Carol) coming down the stairs to meet Rhett (Harvey) wearing the curtain rods across her shoulders.

“I saw this in the window and couldn’t resist.”

You know Harvey Korman, he must not have been in on the joke because he couldn’t keep it together, you could see him cracking up. It was hilarious.

I’ve been reading the Nora Roberts “Bride Quartet” series of books and my observation is that it is rather like reading a Harlequin romance, there isn’t much in them. Girl meets boy, they resist, having hot sex, fall in love, quarrel, get married. She’s written 170 novels and if they are all like this series not surprised. I think she is a glorified Barbara Cartland. I hadn’t ever read a Nora Roberts before but I thought they were a bit more like Danielle Steel, I thought there was a little more to them than this syrup. However, now that I am in the series I may as well finish them up.

I gave up romance novels about 25 years ago when there was one too many heroines who got ravished by the guy who was clearly her soul mate but they had to be torn apart and she had numerous sexual encounters with wicked beasts before being rescued by said soul mate. Ready to throw up now. I told Mom if I read one more that was it. Along it came and that was that. Straight to murder and mayhem novels like “The Minds of Billy Milligan”, “The Name of the Rose” and classics like “The Woman in White” and “The Moonstone”. I read a lot of biographies, every Agatha Chrisie, Leslie Ford and Mary Roberts Rinehart I could lay my hands on. I’ve read everything by Steinbeck, Dickens, Eliot, Austen, Hardy and the Brontes.

My two favourite Steinbeck novels are “Travels with Charlie” and “Tortilla Flats”. Least favourite is “The Grapes of Wrath” which I must confess was the first book I ever did not finish. It bored me to death. Someday I will have to take it up again but it will be painful.

What I need right now is a hammock and some lemonade. And no mosquitoes!

Canada Day

I was up early this morning so enjoyed a beautiful sunrise from the sunroom while I waited to have my coffee (Actonel day). The sun was coming through the leaves of the trees so that it looked like a jungle scene and I thought “it’s going to be a beautiful day in the countryside”. After breakfast I got out there and cut the backyard, took a rest and cut some more. There was no dew on the lawn so you just know it’s going to be a warm day. Summer has finally arrived.

Remember when you were in elementary school and you just longed for the summer holidays? I remember having Field Day one of the last days of school when we got to do sports all afternoon out of doors. It was great fun. It must be like a best day for the teachers to see the kids having so much fun just being kids. I had a favourite tree at the very edge of the schoolyard which cut off the field from the school yard. I could climb right to the top and I would just hang there like a monkey. Of course, we weren’t allowed to do that in school hours, that was done on vacation time. There were also some apple trees along that line of trees and we’d hang on those as well and swing from branch to branch. I really don’t remember there ever being apples on them but I suppose there was eventually. There were even a couple of pear trees in our neighbourhood where I grew up though I think eventually they got cut down for new houses. Isn’t that sad?

When I was about eleven I discovered the creek on the other side of Applebyline (that’s how we would say it, fast like that) and we would have so much fun down there imaging every kind of game from cowboys and Indians to stagecoach to murder mystery. Sometimes we were Laura Ingalls on Plum Creek and sometimes we were Tarzan’s friends in the jungle. Other times we just went picking for raspberries or looking for frogs. Inevitably we would come home dirty and wet and my mother wondered where we found water. Naturally we never told her we had crossed the road and gone down to the creek. For the longest time I don’t think my mother even knew there was a creek though eventually she found out and we were forbidden to go. Didn’t stop us though. Water beckoned us like a haunted house calls to a Gothic heroine.

As I got a little older I can remember laying on the lawnchairs out in the garden and smelling my mother’s roses and the fresh cut grass as I read Anne of Green Gable or Jane Austen’s Emma during my summer break at University. Every once in a while I would dip into our swimming pool and do a lap or two and then crawl back out to the chair and just breath in the summer air.

You could say I love summer. All of it. Cutting grass, weeding, watching the birds, listening to the breeze. Life is good.

Happy Canada Day.