Celebrating Independence Day

Today, I am preparing to go to south Alabama to see my parents for the July 4^th holiday. I am very excited about the visit because I don’t see my family but 3-4 times a year since moving out of state. As I was thinking about the visit, I began to reminisce about how the Independence Day holiday has changed from when I was a child.

From my childhood perspective, July the 4^th was a HUGE holiday.  Although fun, the summer seemed to stretch on forever. We lived in the country and although there were several boys that were my brothers ages, there were no girls my age except in town. At that time, we did not go to town on a whim like people do today. We went on Mondays to deposit the church money (my mother was the church treasurer) and we went on Fridays to buy groceries. Occasionally we would go to the park to swim, but usually we spent the summer at home. So the holiday was very exciting.

Daddy, my Granddaddy, and all of my uncles were off from work.  I had several aunts who worked outside the home and they were also off for the day. Everyone would go to my grandparent’s house beginning in the early afternoon. The grill would already be heating up and the fryer would be set up and ready to light. Grandmother would be in the kitchen with the aunts cooking and all of the men would be outside in lawn chairs talking and watching my Granddaddy cook the meat du jour. There was not a square inch of the house or yard that did not smell of wonderful food.

The yard was full of cousins of all ages, adult and teenage cousins with their new wives or girlfriends and the cousins who were still children and toddlers. Everybody running around and playing games such as hide and seek, tag and mother may I? Everyone was happy and relaxed.

Around two in the afternoon, we would all sit down and eat! There was food for days and tables of desserts.  After everyone was finished eating, it was time to make ice cream. There were electric ice cream makers but there were also the hand crank mixers.  The hand crank mixers were easy to turn at the beginning, but as the ice cream would start to freeze, it would get more difficult to turn. As the crank became more difficult, I along with the younger children would be enlisted to sit on top of the freezer to hold it steady as the crank was turned. I always felt very important getting to sit on the freezer! For the cousins who were too small to sit on the freezer, the uncles and older cousins would give them the “important” job of making sure the hole on the side that allowed the water to drain was not stopped up by ice and salt.

While the ice cream was being churned, there would often be a game of baseball being played in the yard or some other activity going on.  Nighttime however, was the most exciting part of the day. The area that I lived in did not have a fireworks display, but we bought firecrackers, sparklers, roman candles, and cherry bombs from the little store down the street from my grandparents house. A dollar would by a brown paper sack full. Everyone got to shoot fireworks. Not only did we shoot fireworks into the air, we had fights and played war with them, throwing them at each other as if they were hand grenades. Looking back, it is a miracle that none of us died. We had ringing ears, scorched fingers and occasionally had very angry mothers because of holes burned into clothing, but no major injuries.

After the fireworks, we would pile up into our cars and head home exhausted. Looking back, I would give anything to be able to relive just one holiday. Just once more to have my grandparents, all of my aunts and uncles, and the 2 cousins that are deceased back together and in one place. The last time we were all together, there were 50 of us. Now almost 20 years later, there are just too many to count. I regret that my children did not get to experience family holidays as I did as a child.

Living Healthy, Weight Loss and the Fight for Healthy Food!

As I strive to “recreate” myself and become a healthier and happier individual, I have discovered a fact that many of you already know but some of you may not.  What I eat affects who I am. The old saying “You are what you eat” has never been more evident to me. Since I began this endeavor in earnest 6 months ago, I feel like a different person.

I am losing weight, it is a slow process, but I do not have to starve. In fact, the weight has just begun to come off on it’s own and I seem to eat less and less. Also, I don’t crave food the way that I once did.

Many of you may be asking why???? I have been thinking about this question also, and I have decided it is because of what I eat. As you know, if you have been following my blog, I was diagnosed with gluten and casein intolerance. Also, I have an aversion to soy. American grown soy was never meant for human consumption. At first, I thought that my world had ended.  How was I going to survive without bread and milk? Thanks to Vanessa and “Q”, I was introduced to the wonderful world of gluten free living and the amazing world of sheep and goat dairy and coconut milk. How, you ask can a person lose weight doing that? Well partially by getting rid of the foods that I have intolerance to. You see, when I eat these foods, my body starts an attack against these foreign substances. My joints become inflamed and I ache and swell. But also, my body in response to the inflammation puts out cortisol, which promotes and helps retain body fat. So, when I quit eating the foods that I was intolerant to, I began to lose weight.

However, I think that a major cause of my weight loss and my overall general better health is the fact that when I started reading labels looking for these foods, and began to realize what was hidden in the processed foods in the stores today, I stopped eating processed food.  A friend of mine tried this method and lost 70 lbs in a year. What? You ask? Stop eating processed food? How? Why?

The answer is easy. Processed food will KILL you! My journey began with oh, that has gluten, milk, or soy in it. Then I started saying, “ What are the other 30 things in here that I don’t recognize”?  "What will I do"? My mother or I used to make this food from scratch maybe I can do that again. Once I made the homemade version, I wondered why I had ever bought the processed version. People say, “but it is more time consuming”. Yes, but it is very satisfying to know what you are eating and what your children are eating. If you sit back and think about it, can you truly say, I would rather feed my children non-nutritious, potentially carcinogenic, dangerous food, or would I rather spend 20 extra minutes a day cooking REAL food?

The thing about processed food in the US today that scares me the most are the genetically modified organisms or GMOs. These are food products that have been genetically changed in a laboratory at a cellular level and then grown and sold as “food” in the United States. The big corporations in the U.S. are in bed with the FDA. The American people are being kept in the dark!!!! GMO foods are not labeled in processed foods or in the produce section of the grocery store! Do you want to eat corn or other vegetables and fruit that has been injected with viruses or animal DNA to keep insects from eating it? That is what most of the corn in the U.S. is today. It is not the corn that we had as children. In order to get a bigger yield, it has been injected with things that kill the insects that normally would eat it. Ask yourself, if something at the bottom of the food chain cannot eat a vegetable without dying, what is it doing to my children and me? Also, it is killing the bees!!!!! Without the bees, we cannot survive! The picture in this link shows why we need to protect our bee population!

I am repeatedly amazed at what the general public is aware of and what the government keeps hidden.  I am very proud to be an American, but I am not naïve enough to believe that our government has our best interest at heart.  Have you ever wondered why Organic cost so much? Are you aware that the government uses our tax money to fund GMO testing but charges small farmers to be able to tell us that they are organic farmers????

I am also surprised that the general public has issues with things such as embryonic stem cell testing but does nothing about scientists changing the vegetables and plants that God put on this earth. Either they are unaware, or they choose which Dr. Frankenstein to condemn and which to ignore.

One thing about living in the United States is that we are all free to believe what we choose. I for one, choose to fight government interference with nature and what I think is God’s plan. Luckily, in the United States, I am not alone! Much of the worlds including Europe, China and India have already banned GMO foods. Hopefully, this will happen soon in the United States.

I am including the links below if you would like more information. Have a wonderful week! And please let me hear your thoughts!

http://www.undergroundhealth.com/non-gmo-food-companies-with-printable-list-of-brands/

http://www.spreadlibertynews.com/the-organic-review-long-term-study-shows-gm-corn-soy-causing-severe-stomach-inflammation/

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/harvest/viewpoints/risks.html

https://www.facebook.com/MarchAgainstMonstanto

A Thank You to My "LIFERS"

A lot has happened since I last sat down to write.  I spent the week of Memorial Day weekend traveling.  During this time, I went to my oldest granddaughter’s 6^th grade graduation and my youngest granddaughter’s 4K graduation.  Nothing in the world is as sweet as grandchildren! I also spent time with old friends and with a very dear and special friend who is losing the war against Alzheimer’s.

As I was driving the eight hours back home, I had a lot of time to think about my life. There are so many people that are so near and dear to me. Some I see often, some once a year, some every five of ten years and some are gone and I would give ANYTHING for just one more day.

Everyone has family and most everyone has friends, but there are some of us who have been blessed with people who transcend these categories and blend into something totally different. They become part of who you are. I realized as I was driving that these people, living and dead are part of what makes me the person that I am today. My friend Lee has a term for these people. She calls them “Lifers”.

I was able to spend time with my oldest friend Lee this weekend. By oldest friend I mean that we have known each other since birth. Our parents knew each other even before we were born. We started kindergarten together, dealt with children, marriages and divorces together, cancer, job changes and moves. We have been together so long that we instinctively pick up the phone, sometimes after not talking for a year and say  “what’s wrong and what can I do?” Countless times, we sensed that the other was in need.

There are other “lifers” that I love.  And after spending time with my dear friend who is fading away, I think it is time that I let all of you know that I love each and every one of you. Even if we don’t talk often, you are in my thoughts and prayers and you are part of my very being!

I have been looking at old pictures recently and there are quite a few that I want to share! Unfortunately, there are some of my oldest and dearest friends that I have no pictures of.  The only excuse that I have is that when you have been friends for LIFE, you take for granted that you will always have that person. So, my “lifer” friends if you don’t see a picture, that is probably the case, and the next time I see you, expect to see the camera!

Until next time!

'"Call it Paradise and Kiss it Goodbye" or My Childhood Memories of the Beach

I am getting ready to go down to the Gulf Shores/Orange Beach area for a couple of days. As I am packing, I am remembering my childhood memories of the beach.

I grew up a little over 2 hours from Gulf Shores. At that time, it took much longer than that to get there due to road conditions, etc. But at least once a year, we would go to the beach. I remember several occasions when we would stay for a few days, but usually, we would go for just the day. Wow, what an experience!

Mama would go to the store and get stuff for a picnic.  She would fry a chicken the night before and we would also have sandwich fixings. We would carry potato chips and drinks.  In retrospect, this probably was not a vacation day for her, since she had to work twice as hard as usual just to get us all there packed and with food. But she always made the day special. 

We would leave early in the morning, wearing our swimsuits and away we would go. The entire trip was two lanes, so traffic was a variable. Also, there was the drawbridge over the river that we as children were always worried about. We were never certain that we were actually going to get to the “Beach” until that obstacle was overcome. One time, we waited and waited only to have to turn around and come home.

Once the drawbridge anxiety was over though, excitement would build. In those pre-seatbelt, car seat days, we would sit/lay wherever we had chosen as our spot for the trip and watch the sky or watch the wires swoop and hit the telephone poles. Sometimes, someone would say something that at the time we considered profound; usually it was my youngest brother. One trip he voiced his thoughts by announcing, “Wow, Granddaddy would have to have a long trot line to run this river!” as we crossed Mobile Bay.

We would travel through the piney woods of Clarke and Washington counties, go through the city of Mobile, cross Mobile Bay on the Causeway (pre Bay Way days) and head through the farm land of Baldwin County. At that time, there was nothing but farms, and the tiny towns of Spanish Fort, Fairhope, and Foley. We could tell when the journey was almost over by the smell of salt in the air.

Finally, we were there! The road came to a T. and there was the ocean.  There was asphalt for maybe a half mile in either direction, but otherwise nothing but ocean and beach. No fast food, tourist attractions or entertainment, just the Hang Out and the beach.

We would play all day.  It was one of the few times except for Sundays that we got to spend a whole day with Daddy. He would play with us the entire time. Looking back, I realize that he was probably exhausted and would have liked to just sit and do nothing, but he never let on.

Lunch was wonderful. There is nothing better than cold coke, cold fried chicken and pimento cheese at the beach. Nobody cared that occasionally the food was a little gritty from the wind blowing sand onto the blanket.

We would stay until we started looking pink. There was no sunscreen in those days, but I really don’t remember getting badly burned. Maybe it was because we played outside all the time and our bodies adapted. Finally, we would have to leave. There were tears and pleadings “just a little longer” but we would load up the belongings, and get into the car.  We would get in with our suits on, sand and all, and ride all the way home with the beach all over us.

At bedtime, after my bath with the bottom of the bathtub covered in sand, I would lie in my bed and feel the ocean moving me along and hear the waves in my dreams.

As an adult, I moved to Gulf Shores and my children grew up there. It was a great place to raise children and my dearest friends are still there, but it is now more of a destination location. The beaches are as beautiful as ever, the people just as friendly, and the food outstanding. However, I will always miss the beach that I had as a child.

Many years have passed since that time. My granddaughter Chloe' is graduating from 6^th grade at Gulf Shores Elementary this year but it seems like yesterday that I was her age and eating fried chicken on the beach!

Chloe' and me on the Beach!

Happy Memories and Happy Mother's Day

I’ve been thinking over the last couple of days about how blessed I am. I have been especially thinking recently about what a charmed childhood I had. Most children today cannot relate to the childhood that I remember.

I was born in the Deep South in a time when families still lived close to one another. I was blessed to have parents, grandparents, and great grandparents who loved me. That’s right, great grandparents. You see when I was born; I had all four grandparents living within 5 miles of my house along with 2 great grandmothers and a great grandfather.  My mother’s grand mothers were also living, one in North Alabama and one in South Georgia. Life for me was a joyful time of sitting on knees, receiving hugs, silver dollars at Christmas and on birthdays, and waiting for divinity, fudge, cards and letters to arrive in the mail.  I was a very happy spoiled little girl.

Besides the great grandparents, I had numerous great aunts and uncles, and even great-great aunts and uncles. These wonderful people who were actually my grandparents aunts and uncles also spent many afternoons and Sunday mornings at church molding my life.

I had cousins for days. There were thirteen of us on Daddy’s side and 5 of us on Mama’s. Not to mention the second and third cousins. Holidays were magical and Friday and Saturday nights as a small child were spent playing outside until dark and then lying on the couch while the adults watched Lawrence Welk or listened to Jerry Clower records or played a card game known as Rook.

Summers were spent in the creek or playing baseball in Grandmother and Granddaddy’s yard while waiting for Granddaddy to fry fish and waiting for the ice cream freezer to freeze. Sometimes the older boys would let me help with the ice cream by poking the drainage hole with a stick to keep the water draining or letting me sit on the top of the ice cream bucket to keep the churn in place.

The other part of my time was spent with Granny. Granny was single (widowed) and fun! I thought she was old at that time in my life but now I realize that she was very young. She died at age 51 when I was 12. With Granny and my aunt LaVonne while she was still at home, I had a great time! When I spent the night, we had what a 5 year old would consider wonderful meals. Frozen pizza and tater tots, or TV dinners, things that I did not get at home. Breakfast was buttered toast and milk coffee. We watched the Pink Panther cartoon because it was Granny’s favorite and she told us stories at bedtime. She played baseball with us and we spent time in the back yard picking up pecans and eating them.

Mother’s Day stands out in my mind as a very special day. We got up on Sunday morning and went to church as usual. But once there, it was different from the usual Sunday. Every mother there had a corsage.  The mothers who had lost their mothers had white corsages and the ones whose mothers were living wore colored corsages.  But all of the mothers were special on that day.

On this Mother’s Day, I would like to wish everyone a wonderful day and say, “I love you!“to my Mother, and “I miss you!” to my grandmothers and great grandmothers. 

I am going to leave you with some pictures of some of my favorite women in my life!

"Back to the Future in Healthcare"

Hello everyone! I’m home!  I had a wonderful time in India and I am missing my family and friends there, but it is good to be back to the family and friends that I’ve been missing here!

I had the opportunity to visit a hospital in Mumbai while I was there. My father-in-law was having some health issues (he is better now, thank goodness) but he needed to be seen by a physician.  We called his physician who said that he would be glad to see him the next morning, but since it was a national holiday (Independence Day) his office would be closed. He suggested meeting at the hospital in the outpatient department. I was dreading this....you know how it is in the U.S. sitting in the waiting room for hours.

Shank and I went with Aba (that is the name that his grandchildren gave him many years ago) to the hospital to see the physician.  Vivek, the driver pulled the car into the entrance to the hospital and I felt like I had been transported back in time.  Now, for those of you who don’t know me very well, I have been a nurse since 1984. When I say transported back in time, I do not mean back to the dark ages of the early 80’s. Oh no, I mean transported back into time. I felt like I was back in my childhood, only in an alien environment. The staff was out on the lawn waiting excitedly for the flag raising ceremony for Independence Day. Most of the nurses looked like the nurses of my childhood, starched white uniforms with hose and shoes and the hats. Those horrible hats that I HATED wearing for the first 10 years of my career. Those horrible hats that I miss seeing. The hats that inspired trust and gave off a sense of character. The hat that radiated the Nurse Hatchet vibe that instilled fear and trust into the heart of everyone under her care. The remaining nurses looked like Mother Teresa. They wore white and blue sari and gave off an air of compassion.

As the car came to a stop, an orderly immediately opened the door, deposited Aba into a wheelchair, and escorted us through the hospital into the outpatient department. Entering the hospital, again I had flashbacks to childhood. The lobby had a receptionist desk and a waiting area with chairs. There was no air conditioning but the hum of the oscillating fans was very comforting. The mission statement over the lobby entrance said “We Check Everything in the Hope That We Find Nothing.”

As we walked down the hall, I saw a board directing patients and visitors to different areas of the hospital. The lettering reminded me of the attendance board at Sunday School during my childhood. We passed the time clock with the paper time cards and the employees divided by job description.

The physician came in and examined my father-in-law. He was very thorough and compassionate. He then explained to me what he thought was going on and gave me the plan of care. During this whole conversation, he is writing on a pad of paper.  I assumed that this would go into the patient file. However, at the end of the conversation, he tore the sheet out of the pad and gave the entire thing to me. He was sending the entire History and Physical along with the Plan of Care and Treatment home with us so that we could review it whenever we needed. I assume that he either rewrote or dictated the visit after we left.

When the conversation was over, he asked if I had any questions and then began to talk to me about the hospital. I found this conversation to be amazing. I discovered that individual families owned the hospital. Anyone could become part of the hospital by paying a yearly membership fee. The members of the hospital paid for every piece of equipment and all of the employees’ salaries. The staff and physicians mission was to provide excellent care while keeping the price of healthcare as low as possible. As long as salaries are paid, equipment maintained and cost of business expenses are covered, the healthcare is free to members. Everyone (members and staff) works to stay within budget in order to prevent an increase in membership fees. The physician then told me about the new MRI scanner that had just been purchased to provide up to date care.

We said goodbye to the physician and left the hospital. We asked where to get the prescriptions filled and were directed to the pharmacy located on the side of the building.  There is nothing in my memory that can describe the pharmacy. However, knowing how the hospital runs of a cash basis, all I can say is it serves the purpose!

Waiting area

Time Clock

Information board

Nurses at the flag raising ceremony

Pharmacy

The only thing that I can say after the visit is I am impressed! Maybe new and state of the art is not always better. Maybe the healthcare system in the U.S. should take a trip “Back to the Future” and try to sort out where we went wrong!

Reminiscing about childhood and thinking about life in India!

            One of the things that I’ve always liked and been in awe of here in India is the way food is prepared.  Except for cookies and sweets, nothing is commercially prepared or instant. My sister-in-law uses no frozen or canned vegetables. Everything is fresh! Also, there are no leftovers. She cooks enough for the meal that we are eating, and it is gone.

            Growing up in a very southern rural country area, this is alien to me.  As a child, I remember having fresh vegetables in the summer! I loved the summer when school was out and the days were long and filled with playing outside, Bible school and fresh vegetables in the garden.

            The day would begin with waking up, and having breakfast. Breakfast was not a big meal at our house unless there was company visiting. We would have toast or cereal and then the day would begin. As a small child, I would play all morning until lunch time (we called this dinner), then I would take a nap, wake up and play some more until Daddy came home and then eat supper and go to bed at 8pm. This was my life. Looking back it was a wonderful life with nothing bigger to worry about than hoping that if it rained, there would not be lightening and we could stay outside and play.

            As an older child and teenager, things changed somewhat. The day began, as always but instead of being able to play all day, there were vegetables to deal with. My Grandfather had a huge family garden that we all participated in and there were massive amounts of food to be processed.  We did not visit much in the summer but if we did go to someone else’s home, the process was the same all over the countryside. The only difference was whether the mother of the house canned or froze her vegetables. My mother put everything in the freezer. The day would begin with the vegetable that was ripe and ready to pick that day. Usually, one vegetable would ripen and we would work that vegetable for several days or a week. Sometimes, however, we would be dealing with multiple vegetables at the same time. We would shell peas or beans for days on end. When we would have a large dishpan shelled, my mother and as I got older, myself, would begin the process of putting them in the freezer.

            My mother or I would fill up the sink with water and dump the peas or beans into the water. Then we would begin the job of picking out the trash and the bad peas. The majority of the trash would float to the top and could be scooped off with your hand. After this was done, each pea was looked at by scooping up a handful of peas at a time, holding them under running water and discarding any bad peas. The peas were then placed in huge pans with water and brought to a boil on the stove, the heat turned off and the peas bagged in freezer bags, sealed and put into the freezer.

This process was then repeated until the plants stopped producing peas and then it was on to the next vegetable. The process was the same with only small variations for tomatoes and corn. My mother also put up “soup mix” which consisted of combining all of the vegetables that she used in home made soup into one bag. This saved freezer bags and space in the freezer.

We had vegetables all year until the next summer. We did not buy vegetables from the grocery. We also did the same with meats. My grandfather raised hogs and my father, brothers and uncles hunted deer and fished.  My grandfather had a meat processing plant and a smoke house. We had fresh and smoked meat and sausage all year! We bought chicken and the occasional Sunday beef roast at the store.

            The ladies in the community worked very hard, especially in the summer. For that reason, they usually only cooked once a day. We would have a HUGE meal in the middle of the day that we called dinner. Afterwards, the leftover food would be put up and pulled out for supper. I remember as a small child, before microwaves, we would often eat the food cold depending on how tired my mother or grandmother was and how hot it was outside. Anything that wasn’t finished at that meal went into the fridge and usually ended up in a soup of stew for Saturday.

            I’ve been wondering why the two cultures in my life are so very different from each other. India is fortunate to have a yearlong growing season. I’ve come to the conclusion that life in India while being optimal is not possible for most people unless they live in a large city where they are in walking distance of an organic farmers market.  Also, I’ve spent quite a bit of time this trip reminiscing on the lost days of my childhood and wondering what I can do to incorporate some of my knowledge into healthier eating. I think that I am going to concentrate on eating less processed foods and strive this summer, to put up my own vegetables instead of having to rely on the poor quality vegetables in the stores during the winter.

I’m going to leave you with a picture of the local vegetables available along almost every street in Mumbai! Have a great week!