Just Drink It Already.

Drinking water is healthy. Boring, but healthy.  I try to drink eight glasses of water everyday and most of the time I am not successful. I. Hate. Drinking. Water.

Unless I am really, really hot and thirsty, I feel like I am forcing myself to do the healthy thing. I have read all the benefits of this fine beverage and I know why it's good for you. I know that my physical being is 70% water and it is a necessity of life, but I still don't like to drink it.

What's a woman to do?

Is it an acquired taste? I used to detest coffee. I know, weird. Maybe I could acquire a taste, a thirst for water. I've tried adding flavor packets to the bottled water, but I think they leave a funny aftertaste. I haven't tried lemon slices yet.

I wonder if the water used when making coffee or tea counts as "drinking water". It should, if it doesn't. Or eating jello. . . when it dissolves, it's basically water. Really, it's not much different than adding a flavor packet.

What about taking a bath? I am sure you absorb some of the water through your skin. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. Swimming could be the new way to get your water allotment for the day.

Or I could just learn to like water and drink it. So far today, I have drunk zero water (unless you count my coffee). I am soon going out on the road for some home visits and I think I'll take 4 bottles of chilled water along. I will challenge myself.

I only see one problem with that plan. You see, the more I drink, the more I need to find a bathroom. RIGHT NOW! That is no fun when you are along a highway. I will admit to making a mad dash into a wooded area to find relief, but that is no fun either. Rather embarrassing actually.

8 cups.
64 ounces.
2 quarts.
1/2 gallon.
1.9 liters.
2000 ml.
128 Tablespoons
384 teaspoons

No matter how you put it, it stills seems like a lot of water to me. But, for my health, I'll give it a try.

Love,
Dianne

“There is no water in oxygen, no water in hydrogen: it comes bubbling fresh from the imagination of the living God, rushing from under the great white throne of the glacier. The very thought of it makes one gasp with an elemental joy no metaphysician can analyse. The water itself, that dances, and sings, and slakes the wonderful thirst--symbol and picture of that draught for which the woman of Samaria made her prayer to Jesus--this lovely thing itself, whose very wetness is a delight to every inch of the human body in its embrace--this live thing which, if I might, I would have running through my room, yea, babbling along my table--this water is its own self its own truth, and is therein a truth of God.” 
― George MacDonald

Post-it Anonymous

Rarely in my life, up until now, have I bought Post-it Notes. I always found them unnecessary and a little expensive. Really, why did I need a piece of paper with a sticky strip at one end?

Since June, I have become a Post-it Note addict.
"Hello, I'm Dianne, and my favorite Post-it color is blue."


Yesterday, in my car, I had 8 bright yellow notes sticking all over the front of my car around my air vents. Notes to remind me of phone calls to make when I got home,  a reminder to email someone about a laptop battery, a list of food I'd eaten so I could log it later, random blog ideas, and a grocery list. I can't help it. I just think of things as I am driving and as soon as I get to a destination, I quickly jot them down and slap it up.

So handy. So convenient. How could I have ever survived before?
Around my laptop, I have 7 blue notes framing the screen. More reminders, more emails to write, more questions to ask.

Again, how did I survive without them before? Pink, Orange, Blue, Yellow and Green. Fluorescent or not. Some with decorative edges when in their little perfect 2x2 inch square. I could use blue for family, yellow for work, green for groceries, pink for "to-do", and orange for everything else.
 Sigh. Could this be love? After all, what's not to love?

I like making lists.
I like being organized.
I like being able to find my notes and lists later.
I like doing whatever it is on the note and then tossing it.
Let's face it, Post-it Notes and I were meant to be.

"Hello, I'm Dianne, and don't you dare take my Post-it's away from me."

Love,
Dianne

Please. Leave. A. Message.

I bought a new phone for the house yesterday. As I hooked it all up, I longed for the days when setting up a phone meant plugging the phone jack into the wall and that was it.

After many years, many inventors, experiments, trials and failures, the telephone was patented in 1876. Alexander Graham Bell was the lucky inventor whose "apparatus for transmitting vocal or other sounds telegraphically" was chosen. The country was soon being connected with switchboards and cables. We would never be the same again.

Now, I am nor old enough to remember the era of switchboards and party lines, but I did watch the Little House on the Prairie episode where the telephone phenomena invaded Walnut Grove. Who can forget Harriet Olsen listening to all the local gossip and using it to her advantage?

No, that was all before my time. I do remember the old rotary dial phones though and the days before touch-tone buttons. I liked putting my finger in the correctly numbered hole and moving it clockwise to the little silver stop where you would release it and find your next number. Depending on how quickly (or not) your phone moved back, sometimes made remembering the number you were dialing difficult. There was no speed dial, no memory. I liked the sound the phone made as you spun the wheel and it moved back; it was much better than the beeping today.

The phone cord was the other part of the phone I remember . The twisted, tangly, spiral cord that only let you travel so far from the phone before yanking you to an abrupt halt. Really, it was like it had a mind of it's own. Even after we moved here to the farm in 1997, our phone, for a long time had the curly cord. As you talked, and chased children, or tried to get away from their noise, you would get wrapped up in it. The little ones, of course, loved it. \

Sometime in the 1970's, the idea of a hand-held cordless phone began to be experimented with. I remember seeing TV shows where they had car phones, big and unwieldy, and I thought that it would never catch on. Technology mystified me then, as it often does today. Why would you want to carry this around? Why?!?

Fast forward about thirty years.  Of course,  I own a cell phone now. A sleek, little phone in a zebra case that goes with me everywhere. I has become like another hand; I feel a little unconnected without it. I've gotten used to having it around, just like most of society. 

I do have days that I think about what we did before answering machines, cell phones, and instant communication. If we couldn't get through, we'd try again later. If the message was really important, it got delivered one way or another. We made sure what we had to say was important. We paid by the minute, so chatting with friends for hours was discouraged. Besides,  I would be seeing my friends the next day anyhow. It was all just different. 

Today, I like to text. I like those brief "Hey I'm thinking about you!" messages. But sometimes, like yesterday, when hooking up a new handheld, cordless system with a manual of instructions on how to set everything up that it could do, I wanted something simpler. I don't use all the call-waiting, speed-dial, caller ID, etc that is featured. I just want to be able to get the call or have someone leave a message. Simple, right? 

I am off for my day now, cell phone in hand, ready to conquer the world. 

Love,

Dianne 

PS: It doesn't get any more simple than this:

Living, Not Dieting

Four score and seven years ago. . .
Actuallly, it was one score and seven months ago (and that's if a "score" is a year) that I started entering everything I ate into a food log/diary. Through work, I connected with a program that helped me lose around twenty pounds. Since last June (2011) though, I quit logging my food (too boring and time-consuming), and my weight has pretty much stayed the same. Now, I am thankful that I didn't gain the weight back, and I did adopt some new healthy habits with my eating, but I am tired of being "stuck".

You see, I had a goal in mind, and I have yet to reach it. That's frustrating. I believe, even though it is time-consuming and boring, I need to go back to logging every blessed bite that enters my body. I like that it is not a diet; I can eat what I want. However, seeing it all in black and white, all the unhealthiness that I can consume, is eye-opening. I think I have become lazy about what I eat, and when I am eating it.

I could blame it all on working night shift.

But I won't, cause that's a cop-out. If I could lose weight before, I can do it again to reach a goal of feeling better about myself, being healthier and looking healthier. I want to set an example for my children. I mean, I like chocolate and coffee for breakfast as much as the next woman, but that doesn't mean I have to indulge in front of my innocent children, perhaps scarring them for life.

Don't' laugh, you have never seen me indulge in chocolate and coffee for breakfast. It's not pretty.

Today is Monday July 16th, not a particularly special day, although I do have books due at the library. Today is a day for a new start, because why wait until tomorrow? If I want change, then it needs to start with me, today.

So as boring as it can be, oh and don't forget time-consuming, it can also be life-changing and sometimes that makes all the difference. I am just asking you all for pushes along the way. Ask me if I've logged my food. Remind me that it is worth it. Stop in with chocolate and coffee for breakfast.

Oops, sorry, my fingers just took over their for a second.

Okay, maybe not coffee and chocolate, but just a cup of coffee. Hey, I'm not giving up all the little enjoyments in life. It's about living, not dieting.

Love,
Dianne

A Balancing Act Back in Balance

Sunday afternoon on the front porch, listening to an occasional rumble of distant thunder, is blissful. After a busy week last week, and an overnight trip to my sister's, I am primed for a Sunday afternoon on the porch. 

On Friday, after working three nights, my youngest three and myself drove to Mercersburg PA. Amy needed to get there as she is a camp jr. counselor this coming week. Ryan was going to play with his buddy Shane who also lives at the camp. Heather came along just because she wanted to, and I was the willing driver. Besides I wanted to see my sister Valerie, her husband Eric, and my nephew Sam. 

I didn't feel really well on Friday, even after sleeping for a little while in the morning. After we got to camp, I was just queasy, really cold, and just "off". I hate being sick, especially the "of the stomach variety" kind of sick. I would doze off, but my dreams were filled with work-related dreams, not restful ones. You know how you fall asleep and wake with a jerk? That's what I kept doing, and when I looked at the clock, it would be mere seconds or minutes that had passed, even though it felt like much longer. 

I am a big baby about not feeling well. I just wanted someone to pity me, rub my feet, give me a back rub and make me tea. 

I don't know for sure, but I think it was a case of being simply over-tired. Physically weary and brain-tired. Once I fell asleep for the night that night, I did sleep pretty good until about 10:00 the next morning. I awoke feeling rested and hungry. And grateful. 

I was grateful that I needed to take Amy to camp because it gave me an excuse to be somewhere where I didn't have to clean, cook or go to work. I read a book. I listened to music. I played a game. I didn't think about logging 10,000 steps on the pedometer. Instead I rested. 

Today is Sunday. I slept until 10:00 again, got up and went to church. After a fundraiser meal at the church, we came home and I thought, why not enjoy the porch? Continue the book (which is due at the library tomorrow by the way, so I have to read it. Shucks.) which I have already renewed once because I never just take the time to read. Unless you count in the evening when I fall asleep after one page, which, in my book (ha ha) doesn't really count. 

I am now sipping a coffee, listening to "a haunting tapestry of. . . harp, bagpipe, violin, piano, guitar, and the whispers of the moors." My feet are up, my mind is being rested, my soul is being renewed. I want to be ready to face the week which is ahead of me. It is easy to see all the things that fill my week and feel like it is hopelessly busy. Instead, I need to look at those pockets of time where I can pause, I can take a breath, I can wander through my gardens, I can sit, I can just do nothing for a minute. 

If I learned nothing else this past week, I learned that I am not invincible. I can do too much. I can set my ambitions too high, and I need to take breaks so that the balance in my life is maintained. Today I am getting back on the balance beam. 

 Love,
Dianne

With Guest Writers, Amy & Heather

I would like to introduce two of my lovely daughters, Amy and Heather. They want to write a "guest blog" today. Anything they say from this point on may not be used in a court of law.

I do reserve the right to read, and edit, prior to posting. 

May God Save the Queen. 

As we begin to plot out a fantastic story of excitement and entertainment, our mother attempts to peek at our creative works. Without any hesitation we both simply pushed her aside and told her to wait till we're finished. Such a nosy one she is ;) 

What should we write about? I, Amy, could write about how my mom tried to part my hair down the very center of my head, but we won't because that didn't end very well. I, Heather, could write about how Amy stole all my Whale crackers from me, but that might make me sound like a pig. Think, think, think....

Ah ha! We finally got it after minutes and minutes of thinking....

Once upon a time there were goldfish. Not the food, either. This is the real deal. Ya know, those gold colored fish that swim around in water? Yeah, those! As of now there are four goldfish swimming around in a tank at my aunt and uncle's house. Eric and Valerie got the fish at a Vacation Bible School Kick Off Fair. They thought they would perish sooner than two weeks, but this did not prevail. The fish, which don't have any names, first started off in a Pampered Chef trifle bowl then when Valerie realized this wasn't going to work, they moved them to a small regular fish bowl. The fish weren't getting enough air in the water in the small bowl so they found an even bigger fish tank for the fishes. They didn't think it would take this much effort for four little goldfish, but it did. So when they realized that they had to get a fish tank that the fish could stay in permanently. So the asked our lovely oldest sister Adrienne for her old one that she had. 

Now the goldfish will have a tank with a pump and cleaner and all the works, left over from what Adrienne didn't use, and will be able to stay in there. 

The End 

And there you have it, the musings of my girls whilst I lounge about, reading a book. Now, I am off to play a game with these same two girls, along with Eric and Valerie. 

Love,

Dianne

Listen...Noise

As I get ready to go to sleep before my last of three night shifts, I am enjoying the sounds.

    I hear. . . 

    a tractor idling,

    the breeze as it rustles the leaves outside my window,

    the chit-chat among the birds,

    an occasional cow mooing out in the pasture,

    an even less occasional, mournful braying by Zorro,

     the faint hint of "I Love Lucy" being watched by the girls,

     Ryan as he calls to Leo,

      fjjjffkkkffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff k fkffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffkfffffff dfffffkk

And that was me, falling asleep. 

Interesting. 

I hope nobody was listening to me snore. 

Now, it is a few hours later. I was awakened by Amy as she is packing for camp. Now I hear...

    Aaron and Leo bantering in the kitchen,

    the sound of a newspaper being opened and the wrinkles being shaken out,

    Ryan's calf, bawling, wanting attention,

    one lonely fly buzzing in the window, behind the curtain, 

    and a different set of birds having a discussion over the merits of being an early bird.

Back to sleep again for another hour. . . 

Now, all I hear in an annoyingly chipper cell phone alarm going off, urging me to bound eagerly out of bed. Urging, but not succeeding. Ugh.

I am up, getting ready for work. 

I guess my point is this: 

    There are all kinds of sounds around us, some worth hearing and others are kinda annoying. I have a choice; what kind of noise am I going to make?

Love,

Dianne

      PSALM 100:  vs. 1 - 2

"Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands."
"Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing."