High Fructose Corn Syrup

I am on a quest....a journey really, to rid my home of "High Fructose Corn Syrup." If you believe what you read, and this I do believe, High Fructose Corn Syrup (HFCS) is the worst kind of "foodstuff" there is. For the last month, I have been focusing on eliminating white flour from the Parker diet and now we are onto the Liquid Death as it has been called, HFCS. The problem is, this junk is in everything, and I mean everything! So expunging it is not an easy task. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find Ketchup, a staple at the Parker abode, that doesn't have HFCS? Virtually impossible, unless of course you want to spend 8.99 for a jar of "natural ketchup" at the Whole Foods. Which of course, I will do, once we finish the Heinz squeeze bottle of poison that is currently sitting on the shelf on the door in the fridge. I mean, you can't throw away perfectly good ketchup can you. Next up, find me a cookie, any cookie that doesn't have this stuff in it.....almost impossible. Now I am up to making homemade cookies for my families lunches since I can't find a decent cookie in the store that isn't loaded with hydrogenated oils and HFCS.
So, tell me friends, have I lost my mind? Am I going cuckoo? I just figure there has got to be away to eat food that has real food in it right? thoughts.....anyone?

Am I Just "That Good" or do I have "SUCKER" written on my forehead?

Anyone who has peered at my FB page in the last 36 hours knows that I have spent much of that time at the Annual St. John's Bazaar, chairing the soda booth. Now, this is not a complex assignment. The chairperson is required to contact volunteers and finesse them into giving away their valuable weekend free time to help out the church and sell some soda for Jesus. So, about 3 weeks ago, I made calls in earnest and found myself about 12 or so volunteers to cover various shifts throughout the weekend. Unfortunately, a number of folks on my list have since moved away so there were several shifts left uncovered.....and that meant I had to cover them. No biggie, I enlisted the help of my 14 year old daughter along with her friend to help "man the booth" They were a great help, but it quickly became clear that they would rather be riding the rides with their friends. Plus, I needed them to keep my 5 year old occupied, so for much of the weekend, I sent them off to play games and ride rides and I was alone in the booth as the designated St. John's "Soda Jerk." I must say I didn't mind working the booth alone. I was the picture of efficiency, with noone to get in my way and I was really busy so the time flew by. Let's be honest.....In the world of Bazaar Food Booth's, I was good! Soon I had attracted the attention of some steering committee members who were clearly impressed with my fountain drink prowess, for soon I was fielding questions about whether I might be interested in joining the Bazaar steering committee next year......what? All I did was make some lemonade and Iced Tea. Why was I all of a sudden a hot property? This evening, I came home with blistering feet, an aching back, smelling of fried dough and I asked my husband this question. His answer........"because you show up and you lead." How the hell does one lead the soda booth? I think it's more likely because I show up. I also think the word is out that when I am asked to volunteer for something, I never say no. (I always intend to say no....but then I can't, it's an illness) So, guess who will be attending the steering committee meetings for next year's bazaar friends? Yup, you got it.....Jill, the "leading Soda Booth Chairperson" of Brunswick. So I got that going for me........which is nice.

Any day.......

I received word on Saturday night that a man that I knew passed away unexpectedly that morning. Now, I had not seen this man for at least 5 or 6 years and we certainly weren't close but I remember this man fondly for he was truly "larger than life" in personality and spirit. The type of person who should be immortal, one might think. Unfortunately, that was not the case as this 45 year old man who was full of zest for life, suddenly died of a heart attack just a day after returning from a Disney World Vacation with his wonderful family. I found myself spending alot of time thinking about him and his family during the past two days. It was a busy weekend, but he kept creeping into my thoughts. My heart ached for his wife and children who are no doubt reeling from this sudden and horrible event. I prayed for them to find some peace in knowing he is in heaven watching down on them. I prayed that their close family will hold them up and keep them safe and sane during a truly insane period when, I am sure....absolutely nothing makes sense.
Of course, being the narcissist that I can be, I began to think about my own life and about lives in general. It seems lately, I have come just way too close to so many cases of amazing people leaving this world well before they were supposed to. It really makes you pause and think about how life is really so short and uncertain. Many of us become so self involved and think only about the minor inconveniences in life as if they are the end of the world. The truth is, they are just that, inconveniences. Even major issues like divorce, job loss, home foreclosure should seem insignificant compared to the immeasurable grief of a family who loses a loved one well before "their time."
Again, the question becomes, understanding the impact of an event such as this on those of us in the periphery, what does one do? Maybe, just maybe, we hug our kids a bit more, we drink a bit of wine, we go for a 2 mile run, we call our mother, we go to church, we reach out to old friends on facebook, we make love to our spouse, we sit on the deck with some iced tea, we smell the flowers, well, you get the idea. And we feel at that moment as if our kids are just a bit sweeter, the laughs are that much funnier, the iced tea is the best we've ever had, because we really savor it. That's my plan. Because, let's face it, life is a crap shoot anyway and there are no guarantees. That's the lesson here, a painful and awful lesson, but one that I need to remember more often. Rest in peace Chip.........I am sure there will a Preakness Party in heaven this year.

Where the hell have I been?

Well, it's been a few weeks since I blogged. I am happy to report the heel spur is on the mend and I have been on the treadmill and out on the roads a few times since then, so it appears that the worst has passed. Still a little twingy, but ok nonetheless. But enough about my foot, let's talk about Sporcle, my newest obsession. If you haven't been to Sporcle.com......do yourself a favor, don't ever go there. It will suck you into a vortex of ridiculous trivia quizzes that will cause you to lose many hours of your life that you will never get back.
I spent a good portion of last evening on this giant time bandit of a website......I particularly enjoy the "corporate logo" quizzes where they show you the logos and you have to figure out what company it represents. I am amazed at how many I actually got right. It boggles the mind to consider how much useless crap we have stored in the recesses of our brain. For example, why do I know every major muppet character as well as the names of most Dustin Hoffman movies? How does this serve me in life? Only on Sporcle my friends, only on Sporcle.
So, once again, consider this my own personal PSA......stay away from Sporcle. You will find that you have time for little else.
night!

Heel Spurs and Vicodin

Ran a race on Saturday. The Brunwick Police Department "Hot Pursuit" 5K. I logged the best 5K time ever and shaved two minutes off my PR. Feeling good, walking tall. Came home, showered, went to the grocery, proceeded with a productive Saturday, thrilled with my accomplishment. Then at around 1:00 AM on Saturday Night/Sunday Morning, it happened. pain. searing pain. My heel was protesting my PR in the 5K and how! It felt like someone was taking a knife and plunging it into my heel. Attempts to "walk it off" were futile. I couldn't put any pressure on it at all. Up all night in pain, popping Advil, like tic-tacs, and it didn't even touch the pain. By 10:00 AM Sunday, I was off to the ER rather than to 11:00 AM Mass at St. John's. X rays revealed a big ugly heel spur that looks like the nose of the wicked witch of the west. My pain, due to inflammation around the "spur" from my PR in the 5K. Crap!
They sent me home with crutches, vicodin and strict instructions to ice and rest my sorry little heel.
The next two days are a drug induced haze. That vicodin is powerful and nasty stuff. Believe me, I was willing to put up with the incoherence because it beat the hell out of the ripping pain in my heel but jeez louise, the crazy dreams I was having were too much! Alligators, and monsters and murderers and crazy flying creatures.....all out to get me.......bizarro. Finally by day three of this crap, I went to the Podiatrist for a better treatment plan besides narcotic intoxication. Dr. S. was kind enough to give me a six day course of prednisone to calm the inflammation and a walking boot to ease the pressure. He assures me that in a few days, I will be on the mend and I should be lacing up my Mizuno's in a couple of weeks. As long as I follow his advice on my training and I let him fit my sneaks with Superfeet or orthotics, to protect my tender Plantar Fascia. No problemo Doc! We are in this together. So, I have added Dr. S. to my training team. He seems to be on board with what I am trying to accomplish here. Yay!
So, the good news is, I am starting to feel better. I am not addicted to Vicodin, so you won't see me on an upcoming edition of "Intervention" and I am getting back to my life. Amen. I am going to make it to church this weekend and pray for Dr. S. and my tender Plantar Fascia!

Are we raising a generation of morons?

We have three children. Ages fourteen, nine and five. My husband mentioned this evening that he is very concerned that our children don't know how to do anything for themselves. For example:
The two youngest went down to the playroom to play tonight and wanted to listen to music. So, the nine year old asks for her IPOD......sadly, it's not charged. How about a CD? No, don't like any of that music. So hubby says, "why don't you listen to the radio?" "How do you do that?" our nine year old asks. Now, fo shizzle, you and I knew how to work a radio when we were nine years old. How else would we have been able to listen to Casey Kasem's American Top Fourty? Hell, we even knew how to work the tape deck so we could record our favorite songs (Journey anyone?)
But, our nine year seriously had no clue how to work the radio. So, hubby gives specific instructions, look for the "radio on" button. Then use the "tuning knob" to set the station. He could have been speaking Swahili based on the look on this kid's face. She clearly didn't know what the hell a tuning knob was and she sure as hell didn't want to find out. But, she headed to the basement in earnest. Five minutes, later she returns, clearly frustrated. She can't find the Radio on button and forget about a tuning knob. So, of course hubby heads to the basement for a quick lesson in rudimentary radio operation.
Similar scenarios have occured at Parker's Nest with such complex items as......
"Setting the alarm clock"
"Turning on the stove"
and of course, the Coup de Gras.....
Running the Dishwasher.

Have mercy! Sure, my kids can get to any song on their ipod in twenty seven seconds, they can get to level 32 on Mario Kart for DS in a few minutes. My five year old has even mastered the complexities of PopTropica online but don't ask any of these kids to change a set of batteries in a flashlight or anything mechanical like that. It just ain't happening.
So what should I do? Hold a weekly "fend for yourself clinic" in the basement with the tribe? I think so. If anything should happen to Mark and I, these kids won't last 45 minutes on their own. Hell, they can't even find the milk in the fridge when it's staring right at them. (Funny, they always seem able to find the popsicles in the freezer-though)

Now, don't judge me. I love my children and they are three bright and articulate youngsters. But sometimes.....I wonder just what else I haven't taught them that I really should. Great, another thing to think about at night instead of sleeping. I am starting a list. Starting with the whole batteries in the flashlight thing!

Communication-It's not just for breakfast anymore

I have been thinking a lot about communication lately. Particularly how some people are so good at it and others are so not good at it. Understand, I am not speaking about the ability to communicate in an articulate manner. Anyone can put together pretty words. I am talking about the ability and courage to communicate what you are really feeling. I have been accused in my life of being "too direct." Several people I know (yes, you Mark) have been accused of having "no filter." In other words, whatever they are thinking comes tumbling out of their mouth. Now there are risks and rewards to being so forthcoming with communication. The risks are, of course, you will say something inappropriate, offend someone, hurt someone etc. The rewards are the people in your circle will certainly know where they stand and they also may find your "filterless" communication very amusing.
But, here's the deal. Throughout my life, people have claimed, that they want to know how I really feel, the want direct feedback, they want me to be honest with them. Then when you give them what they want.......they don't really want it. They get defensive and don't want to take accountability and own it.
And believe me, I am just as guilty of this as the next person. Mark and I have a very communicative relationship. I tell him that we talk things to death and beat the crap out of every subject. But there's great value to that because we always look at all the angles. But having such an open communicator for a husband, also means I sometimes hear more than I want to hear. And I am just as reticent as the next guy (girl) when I hear stuff that I don't want to hear. But it's better than the alternative, which is having to guess how someone really feels about your performance, attitude, cooking, lovemaking, bathroom habits, whatever.
So, I am going to continue to be a direct communicator, albeit continuing to focus on diplomacy and form in my communication. And I want others to do the same. I can take it! Can you?

By the way, I love you all and I thank god for blessing me with your friendship. There, that was a good first step wasn't it?