Ode to a Park

Here is another poem from my cousin Michael:

Ode to a Park

They come to share with me today,
having traveled so far away

From round the block with spring in stride
she comes to share in exercise

And who walks who with leash in hand
a fresh cat scent across the sand

They park in lots between the lines
Mom hopes the guest arrive on time

The birthday party starts at two,
but Dad can't start the barbeque

They'll ride on swings and kick the sky,
with sand you're faster down the slide

And round and round the carousel,
oh so dizzy, but the ride was swell

Seems Granpa's gone, Granma walks slower,
I dread the thought of getting older

And peace and calm return at dark,
the silence breaks when crickets bark.

Michael S. Velko

For Veteran's Day: The Last Battlefield

The Last Battlefield
by Michael S. Velko

No heroes left to worship, his country let him down
He fought with true commitment, with honor brave and proud
So the story goes, filled with bullet holes his company did save,
in a MEDEVAC with IV packs, back to the states he came
And the nightmares never leave him as he wakes up by her side
seeing stone-gray shadow faces of his comrades he watched die
One last self-destructive mission in a barroom pale with light,
He's a five star living legend, but "Jack Daniels" now walks point

And no one came to meet him as he stepped down from that plane,
That shattered leg and damaged hip, some fragments still remain
And no one buys him coffee or pats him on the back, took
rehabilitation to get him back on track
And the nightmares never leave him as he wakes up by her side
seeing stone-gray shadow faces of his comrades he watched die,
one last self-destructive mission in a barroom pale with light,
He's a five star living legend, but Jack Daniels now walks point

So he settled down in a backwoods town to get on with his life,
going out the door of the corner store was where he'd meet his wife
Now she can't bear the heartache with his trying to adjust, a family
once together, a marriage now gone bust
And the nightmares never left him as he woke up by her side
seeing stone-gray shadow faces of his comrades he watched die
one last self-destructive mission in a barroom pale with light,
He's a five star living legend, but Jack Daniels now walks point

Michael is mom's first cousin and a Vietnam Veteran.  Mom used to send him care packages and he'd write about being in the Mekong as well as places where our government said we weren't like Laos and Camobodia.

Grandma-ism #1

Grandma, who was 100% Macedonian and could remember stuff from a very long time ago, but couldn't remember us (her grandchildren) said some very funny things these past few weeks.  I kept her talking by asking her about growing up in Ohio and her parents who were born in the old country.  She talked about the kolos (dances) she attended and could even remember bits of the songs and showed me some steps. Here is my favorite conversation with her:

Grandma:  "Are you Macedonian too?!"

Me:  "Yes, Grandma.  I am"

Grandma:  "Oh!  Imagine that!  Another Macedonian!"

Me:  "Yep!"

Grandma (thinking):  "I'll bet your mother was surprised to find out you are Macedonian!"

Me:  "Yes, yes she was..."

C’mon Baby Light My Fire

When I first moved to the mountains the thought of wood stoves was mesmerizing.  Growing up in Yorba Linda we used to beg and beg and beg for Dad to light a fire in the fireplace in the “winter."  Southern California, of course, does not have anything even resembling real winters, but this we did not know growing up.  It was 60 degrees and it was cold to us.  (Now 60 degrees is shirt sleeve weather to me.)

I do not know where dad got wood or if he just lit one of those fake logs in the fire place.  I will have to ask him because I no longer remember.  We would then form a mosh pit in front of the fireplace and machete each other over prime butt warming spots.  Any reason to machete each other was a good one in our opinion.

Our heat in Yorba Linda was, I guess, natural gas.  It was not warm, just kept the chill off the house.  What I have never told mom and dad is that the sound of the heater going on was extremely comforting to me.  Sort of a “harrumph” and a “whoosh” and then the soft humming.  When I had trouble sleeping, I would sneak out and crank up the heater so it would go on.  I would rush back to bed and listen intently, then I could feel my body relax.  I would not turn it up much, just enough to hear the voice of the heater and make the bill skyrocket, I am sure.

We would have campfires going camping.  Dad would either bring wood or get it from Louie and Yvonne, the people who lived just inside the June Lake Loop whom we rented trailers from.  After lighting the campfire we would begin the traditional Camp Fire Dance.  Not unlike most ceremonial dances, except for the screaming, pushing, hitting, and whining, we would constantly do-see-do around the fire trying our best to avoid the smoke.  But it was FIRE.  There is nothing like warming yourself in front of a real fire when you have frosty fingers and toes.

So the idea of always having a fire for heat was intoxicating.  Dad and Jeff would go woodcutting in the summer.  You purchase tags and head off, manly man style, into the woods with saws and axes and other deadly tools.  Dogs would be involved as well.  After a couple years of splitting wood by hand, Dad bought a gas powered splitter – the first nod that maybe wood was not all that it was cracked up to be.

When I got married 20 years ago, the responsibility of “doing the fire” was left to me.  Hubby worked 12 to 14 hour days and I would freeze to death if I waited for him to do it when he got home.  We purchased our wood, usually a combination of cedar (for kindling) and oak (for BTU power) and then later almond (even better BTU power).  I, however, had to bring it in, split the cedar for kindling, light it and keep it going.  I did not mind at first; while not the most enjoyable part of my day it was just another winter chore.  Just a “gotta do” like my retired kindergarten teacher friend states.

Our Woodstove during our power outages and the Toyostove next to it.

But have I mentioned my irrational, all-consuming phobia of fire?  I think I was 17 before I was brave enough to light a match to light a candle.  Lighters terrified me as my thumb was far to close to the flame for comfort.  So one day I put on my big girl panties, found a matchbook, put the head of the match in between the cover and the striker like I has seen someone do, pulled hard, and was rewarded with a lit match in my right hand.  Within nanoseconds I was also rewarded with a burned left hand because I apparently lit the whole damn book on fire when I pulled the match out.

It was another 11 years before I would try lighting a match again, and this time it was because of sheer necessity:  light and have warmth; don’t light and freeze to death.  Or at least be horridly uncomfortable.  I perfected my fire building skills to the point where I built better and more reliable fires than Hubby.  I crumbled the paper just so – not too tight nor too loose.  I stacked small kindling with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker – not too much nor too little.  I lit the paper and waited the perfect amount of time before adding in larger kindling, and then the larger almond.  After only an hour’s worth of work, I could sit down and relax in front of the heat.  Well, not quite yet since it took another 45 minutes or so for the wood stove to heat up and begin to radiate.

This went on for fourteen long years.  Falling in love with wood burning fires is not love – it is infatuation.  There is no joy to sustain a long term relationship.  The little things begin to bother you immensely.  The soot, the dirt, the spiders and roaches that hitchhike in on logs, the smoke that poofs in during really windy days, the allergies (turns out I am allergic to oak which is one reason we switched to almond), the wheezing.  All of this makes wood fires undesirable for a long term commitment.  Did I mention waking in the middle of the night to a freezing house because for whatever reason the fire went out?  Or waking in the middle of the night to discover that it is now 102 degrees because you stoked the fire very well but cloud cover came over that you did not know about which insulates and keeps heat from escaping?  I have had to open the doors and windows at 2AM in the dead of winter just so we could sleep.

Then there is the “harrumph” and “whoosh” sounds of wood stoves.  Unfortunately, this is not a comforting sound.  This indicates the probability that you have a flue fire.  I tense up and break out into a sweat when I hear the fire catch at first, and watch the stovepipe like a fighter pilot looking for a bogey hoping, praying, I did not see an orange glow form in it.  The stovepipe caught fire three times in the 14 years we relied on wood heat.  Each time I successfully shut things down (closed all vents) and the fire went out.  Most people aren’t so lucky and the result is extensive damage or a home lost completely.

Then there is the anxiety of having to leave for work.  Do I stoke the fire and pray nothing bad happens?  Do I let it go out and come home to a 50 degree house that takes 6 hours to warm up?

After 14 years, however, the final straw was my cat Solomon.  Well, not him personally, you see.  But one evening he was over by the wood I had piled next to the stove to dry off a bit.  His head was moving frantically side to side.  It was obvious he was tracking something, some kind of a bug.  I walked over and looked and… ewwww!  The log I had brought in the day before had warmed up hibernating cockroaches and they were now skittering all over the floor.  We normally do NOT have roaches.  I frantically threw the log outside, and began stomping the wretched things.  This is one place my pro-life stance is not in play.  I found roaches for days after.  Not three weeks later I had ordered my Toyostove and kerosene tank and have never looked back.

No, the Toyostove most certainly has neither the character or ambience of our wood stove.  At first I wondered what I had done, I felt like I had truly betrayed our temperamental, yet reliable, wood stove.  But with BTU’s nearly that of wood heat, and heat at the touch of a button in seconds instead of hours a day, I quickly fell in love.  This is a long term relationship.  The Toyostove is not exciting, not particularly good looking, and rather predictable, but it is always there for us.  Except in power outages.  That is when our wood stove sticks out its tongue and shines. 

How To Go Paleo

I get asked all the time about the Paleo Diet.  I think I will post my most recent response here so I can direct others who ask and not have to retype!  I was asked about Paleo for a friend of a friend...here is what I said:

She can do it. It isn't hard. I do like it because I feel so much better. But if you are a carboholic, the first couple of months can be difficult with cravings. Once you are over that it is smooth sailing.

The Paleo lifestyle is basically meat, fruit, vegies, nuts, seeds, good fats like coconut oil. Cooking with almond and coconut flour. I highly recommend these cookbooks: The Gluten Free Almond Flour Cookbook by Elana Amsterdam and Cooking with Coconut Flour by Bruce Fife. If she can tolerate almond flour she can make amazing things. I cannot tolerate it, so I stick with coconut flour.

The Primal lifestyle is all of the above plus FULL FAT dairy. No low fat stuff. It's crap. Both lifestyles completely eliminate processed foods, fast foods, HFCS, soda, all grains (corn, wheat, rice, everything), legumes (incl. peanuts), soy. Bacon is considered a health food. ;) Our brains ONLY run on saturated fat - Alzheimer's is connected with low saturated fat in our brains.

There is also the Perfect Health Diet which includes full fat dairy, tapioca, white rice, and potatoes. I use a tapioca flour batter to make these little wrap like things. So I float between Paleo (mostly) to a bit of dairy (parmesan) now and then, plus tapioca. I have tried potato chips, but they don't agree with me.

If you want to cheat with a grain, white rice is the only one. NOT brown. Brown rice has lectins which are poisons that your body cannot flush out. Lectins are there to prevent the grain from being eaten so it can propogate.

In other words, everything you have been taught about health and nutrition is completely wrong.

First, I recommend the book The Paleo Solution by Robb Wolf. It is pretty much required reading. Very easy to understand.   http://www.amazon.com/Paleo-Solution-Original-Human-Diet/dp/0982565844/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1317691864&sr=1-2

Also this important website: Marks Daily Apple http://www.marksdailyapple.com/  Every Friday they post a Primal success story - they are inspiring!  All kinds of people from athletes to moms and everyone in between.

Second, cookbooks are in order. I have a number of them. Primal Blueprint Cookbook and Primal Blueprint Quick and Easy Meals both by Mark Sisson. Everyday Paleo by Sarah Fragoso. There are TONS of FB Paleo/Primal pages with recipes as well - I think I have 'liked' them all. You could probably go to my info page and look at all my pages to like. Robb Wolf, Mark's Daily Apple, Everyday Paleo, FastPaleo, Mastering the Art of Paleo Cooking, Balanced Bites, Civilized Caveman, Nom Nom Paleo, Jason Seib, The Paleo Home, Paleo Digest and many, many more FB Paleo recipe sites.

Paleo Magazine is a new magazine out - I subscribe now. Only about 2 or 3 issues so far. On FB as well. http://www.paleomagonline.com/

I have lost sixteen pounds in four months (for my many British readers that is 1.14285 stone) (hahahaha) - I am now evening out so to speak. Muscles are returning. Another friend has lost twelve in two months and his wife has lost eight in two months. Her cholesterol has completely flip flopped (she just told me this yesterday): Triglycerides down from 173 to 45; from LDL much higher than HDL to completely the other way around. She just had blood work done the other day and her doc compared it to what it was in March.

Of course, being Orthodox you wonder since I have to have meat with every meal what can I do during fasts? I have asked Fr. Ignatius and basically I am fasting because I love pasta and I prefer to be vegetarian. I don't love all the meat, but grains were making me really sick. I would love a big bowl of pasta now and then, but I can't. I also eat MUCH less then ever before, and I can fast a meal now when I couldn't before because of blood sugar ups and downs. I have not had a migraine since starting Paleo back in June.

So there you have it.  I will write more about why I am now Paleo instead of just gluten free next time.

Cribs, Cradles, and Carping

Well, as a quick aside, NaNo was wonderful, but getting so sick on days 8 and 25 sucked all the creativity out of my brain.  But I learned so much even after just 12,000 words and have so many ideas - one cradled until next NaNo and one I am going to start on right away.  The cradled one will be a YA story that has been flitting around my brain for years.  The best thing about NaNo was getting the writing juices all flowing after not wanting to do anything for years.  College in your 40's has a way of sucking all the fun out of life and ruining all desire to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) ever again.

And speaking of cradled:  I just came from a baby shower for our dear Liz.  While searching for gifts, I did research on cribs.  Having never given birth and only been around a few babies here and there, crib comparing is...a nightmare.  Everything that has ever been built has been recalled.  Six times.  There are all these rules, "No sides that move down," "Mattress must fit exactly," "Slaghts must only be so far apart," and that is only the beginning.  So here is my thought:  Why a crib?  After putting in all that baby rubber room bumper padding you can't see inside the darn thing anyway. 

Can you see inside?  Neither can I.

Why not just build a big, wooden box?  I am totally serious.  You could have lovely carvings all over the outside, glue the padding to the walls and et voila! no moving sides, no dangerous slaghts, just a nice safe box that baby cannot get hurt in.  I am not thinking coffin like - no lid or anything - just a big SQUARE box. 

Is this so bad?  Jesus got a manger which really was a big box.  Manger recalls have yet to happen.  Perhaps this needs to be another Orthodox tradition to keep.

Hopefully the above makes a bit of sense since I am heavily medicated.  I really dislike this prednisone they have me on - starting to wean down but it makes me dizzy.  But at least I can breathe - like Rick said, breathing is a good start! 

Top ten clues you may be a writer

1. You would rather talk to the voices in your head than the person sitting by you.

2. You know the library’s phone number, but not your work number.

3. Some of the letters on your keyboard are completely worn off.

4. You have a favorite pen that no one else can touch.

5. Books are your favorite scent.

6. If you could meet anyone in the world, it would be your favorite author.

7. You eat macaroni and cheese for a week because you spent all your money at the bookstore.

8. Your/you’re errors drive you crazy.

9. You named your laptop.

10. You would rather write than go out.