Do you ever wonder how you accumulate so much stuff? It's like the junk fairy makes a weekly visit to our house. In our effort to put our house on the market, my husband and I have been cleaning out the closets, attic, basement, and any other place where things tend to accumulate. So far, we have made 4 trips to the Goodwill in the last week and have enough trash sitting at the curb to scare the trash men away.
I can say that my tendency to be a packrat stems from my parents. Both of them have the "I can't throw it away, I might need it someday." While this was probably a good rational 50 years ago, the tendency today is toward excess. This seems true for people of all generations, particularly in the US. Maybe everyone should be required to move every five years just to clean out their closets.
Can we live with less and be happy? Perhaps, we can. The cleanout has been long and tiresome, but also liberating and freeing. The more I get rid of the easier it is to let go of things. I realize it is not the quantity of possessions in life that makes a person happy, but rather the quality of life experiences.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
A Visit with Granny
Earlier today, I visited my grandmother in the nursing home. She is currently there getting some rehab in order to be able to go home. In essence, she is a short-timer as far as those places go. Granny, as I have always called her, will turn 83 in a few weeks. A medical marvel, she has been to the brink of death and back more times than I can count. When we are together, I work hard to be positive and encouraging. After all, she has pulled through far worse than this. Sort of like a cat with more than 9 lives.
These days her short term memory is getting weaker and the long term memory getting stronger. She revels in telling everyone she meets that I am her only granddaughter and that after I was born she got to hold me first. She talks of my head full of dark curls with a bow in it. In her mind, this happened just yesterday. I usually just smile and nod.
Granny has been like a 2nd mother to me and it is difficult to think her life is coming to a close. Looking at my grandmother makes me think about my own life and how I can make it meaningful. My goal is to appreciate each day, to learn from my mistakes, to promote happiness and health in my family and friends, and to be fully present for each step in this journey.
These days her short term memory is getting weaker and the long term memory getting stronger. She revels in telling everyone she meets that I am her only granddaughter and that after I was born she got to hold me first. She talks of my head full of dark curls with a bow in it. In her mind, this happened just yesterday. I usually just smile and nod.
Granny has been like a 2nd mother to me and it is difficult to think her life is coming to a close. Looking at my grandmother makes me think about my own life and how I can make it meaningful. My goal is to appreciate each day, to learn from my mistakes, to promote happiness and health in my family and friends, and to be fully present for each step in this journey.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Why Gluten Free?
After going through dozens of doctors trying to improve my headaches and fatigue, I started reading nearly every article I could get my hands on. Nobody seemed to know what would help. After throwing my hands up with conventional medicine, I turned to alternative methods. I was not willing to give up...something was making me sick.
After reading stories of people had cleared up a myriad of medical issues by removing gluten (a protein found in wheat, barley, and rye) from their diet. I decided to give the gluten free diet a try. Little did I know, I was really on to something important for me. After two weeks, I hadn't noticed a dramatic change in the way I felt, so I decided to have a piece of pizza. BIG MISTAKE!!! After spending nearly a week in the bed post-pizza, I had my answer. I was clearly gluten intolerant and needed to completely eliminate it from my diet. From there, the quest for all things gluten free began.
I cleaned out the pantry and went through everything in the house. If I couldn't eat it, then it had to go. It was astonishing to me that gluten was in just about everything in some form or another. Why did wheat need to be in chili powder or italian dressing? It goes without saying that almost everything "processed" was hauled away.
Since I love to cook, I started looking for new recipes and products that could replace the flour in my old ones. Being a baker, this was a tough one. I grew up helping my mother with cookies, cakes, and pastries. I often fell asleep by reading cookbooks. Around our house, food was love. Needless to say, there was a lot of love at our house. We were in the South after all.
After reading stories of people had cleared up a myriad of medical issues by removing gluten (a protein found in wheat, barley, and rye) from their diet. I decided to give the gluten free diet a try. Little did I know, I was really on to something important for me. After two weeks, I hadn't noticed a dramatic change in the way I felt, so I decided to have a piece of pizza. BIG MISTAKE!!! After spending nearly a week in the bed post-pizza, I had my answer. I was clearly gluten intolerant and needed to completely eliminate it from my diet. From there, the quest for all things gluten free began.
I cleaned out the pantry and went through everything in the house. If I couldn't eat it, then it had to go. It was astonishing to me that gluten was in just about everything in some form or another. Why did wheat need to be in chili powder or italian dressing? It goes without saying that almost everything "processed" was hauled away.
Since I love to cook, I started looking for new recipes and products that could replace the flour in my old ones. Being a baker, this was a tough one. I grew up helping my mother with cookies, cakes, and pastries. I often fell asleep by reading cookbooks. Around our house, food was love. Needless to say, there was a lot of love at our house. We were in the South after all.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Southern gringa?
In less than two months, my hubby and I are heading to Ecuador on a scouting mission to decide if it is the place for us and our pups. Until recently, I thought the term "gringa/gringo" had a negative connotation. Since I started investigating Ecuador a few months ago, I discovered it means someone not native to Ecuador. Perhaps, I too will join other expats and become the new "gringa" in town.
When I say investigating, I mean researching the culture, cost of living, lifestyle, climate, etc. The question is, "Do I want to live in Ecuador?". At the moment, I am 75% sure that I will love it. I have read every blog I could find, been trying to get a lay of the land, and have been working on my Spanish (mostly conversational with the folks at the local Mexican restaurant). I find myself even hanging out around people speaking Spanish in stores, usually understanding every third or fourth word. Wow, they talk fast! My Spanish sounds very "Southern" with a Tennessee twang and minimal rolling of "r's". My hope is that by totally immersing myself in a Spanish speaking culture, it will get easier.
A friend recently asked, "Have you always wanted to live in another country?". The answer is that I always wanted to travel around the world or should I say "eat" my way around the world. The idea of moving to another country is a relatively new idea encouraged by the chaos of the US economy and a desire to reinvent myself in a slower paced environment. When I first suggested the idea of moving to Latin or South America, my husband thought I had lost my mind. After a number of "ecua-arguments", he is warming up to the idea.
When I say investigating, I mean researching the culture, cost of living, lifestyle, climate, etc. The question is, "Do I want to live in Ecuador?". At the moment, I am 75% sure that I will love it. I have read every blog I could find, been trying to get a lay of the land, and have been working on my Spanish (mostly conversational with the folks at the local Mexican restaurant). I find myself even hanging out around people speaking Spanish in stores, usually understanding every third or fourth word. Wow, they talk fast! My Spanish sounds very "Southern" with a Tennessee twang and minimal rolling of "r's". My hope is that by totally immersing myself in a Spanish speaking culture, it will get easier.
A friend recently asked, "Have you always wanted to live in another country?". The answer is that I always wanted to travel around the world or should I say "eat" my way around the world. The idea of moving to another country is a relatively new idea encouraged by the chaos of the US economy and a desire to reinvent myself in a slower paced environment. When I first suggested the idea of moving to Latin or South America, my husband thought I had lost my mind. After a number of "ecua-arguments", he is warming up to the idea.
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