Zero Cat Hero.

My cat is named Zero and he is, essentially, a cat hero.  At least that is what I decided to give him as an email address.  He can be reached at zerocathero@yahoo.com.  Why does my cat have an email address? Does he like to type? Is he unusually expressive when it comes to communicating with friends?  Will I continue to ask rhetorical questions? The answer to these questions is no.

Zero is, in fact, a therapy cat.  Remember that episode of friends where Phoebe wrote a song called "smelly cat"? I just remembered that.  Zero is not a smelly cat. 

Back to the point of this blog.  Zero is a registered therapy cat with Happy Tails.  He and I went through some extensive training to determine whether he would be suitable to travel to various locations and make people happy.  Zero has always made me happy.  I got Zero in 2003 when I was still in college.  When I adopted him, he came with the name "Butters" and I changed it to Sebastian.  Eugene kept calling him "Sea bass" so I decided to change his name to Zero, in honor of my favorite band The Smashing Pumpkins and one of my favorite movies, The Nightmare Before Christmas. 

From the beginning, Zero was a very friendly and outgoing cat.  He loves people.  He has always gotten along famously with dogs, rats (yes rats), people and ghosts.  He is an awesome cat.  So I decided to see if he would be good as a therapy cat.  Needless to say, Zero passed the test (which included being pet by lots of people, staying on a leash, sitting in laps, being around wheelchairs and loud noises and being comfortable around LOTS of dogs at once) and now we visit Peachford Behavioral Health Center once a month and then we also do "special visits" to places like the Salvation Army and nursing homes.   We really enjoy our visits with people.  It is really nice to get to share my Zero with people who maybe have had to leave pets behind.  Also, Zero is now a tax write-off.  An unintended but much appreciated consequence of our volunteerism.

Zero with my rat Madeline.  Madeline is deceased now but Zero still won't attack rats.  How do I know? Don't ask.  It is gross.  But he won't chase rats at all.

My cousin could kick your ass.

We just returned from a trip to Philadelphia where we spent a long weekend visiting my extended family.  And what a trip my family is.  In particular, I would like to tell you about my cousin Sammy.  Some of you have already heard stories of my cousin Sammy.  Some of you have met my cousin Sammy.  This blog is not about those stories.  All you need to know about Sammy is that she could kick your ass.  She could kick your ass all the way to Denver.  I believe Denver is far enough away to demonstrate just the kind of ass-kicking she could deliver.  Apologies to any readers in Denver. 

Back to ass-kicking cousins: This blog will be short, in that I want you to spend a few moments watching the video I'm including.  For any of you (or "yous" as we say in Philly) that have heard of/met Sammy, you will have no doubt believing that she is just insane enough to "embrace the fall" as she so eloquently explained her art.  She is insanely tough and insanely talented, but mostly she might just be plain ol' insane.  She is the one in the pink shorts with the yellow top.

Sammy, if you somehow read this post, know that I love you and can't wait to see this show live!

Flying with my meat cleaver.

We are going to Philadelphia at the end of this week to visit family.  We are taking the baby on her first airplane ride.  And, after much debate, we are bringing our meat cleaver.

According to the TSA, I can fly with my meat cleaver, so long as I check my meat cleaver.  Thank god, because I don't know what I would do if I had to leave my meat cleaver at home. 

I was reviewing the policies for flying with infants, because until recently, I didn't have an infant to concern myself with.  I actually laughed out loud (so probably a good place to use an "lol" but I think the phrase is really exhausted.  I mean how many times can you actually write "lol" when you know you didn't actually "lol" before people begin to think, "Man, that wasn't that funny.  Did she really laugh out loud or is she just writing that because she maybe thought it was a little funny and wanted to convey that little bit of humor to us but we don't think it is even slightly funny so now we are kind of mad that she claimed to have 'lol'd' when clearly she is lying.  Plus she is stupid." So, I laughed.  I chuckled.  I giggled.  Whatever. It was funny.

Among the other things that I can now bring on baby's first flight (so long as they are checked):

1. My saber.  They don't differentiate between light and metal, so I'm a little confused. I will bring all my sabers.
2. My spear gun.  There is some good whale hunting in the Philadelphia-metro area. 
3. My realistic replica of a gun.  I have so many to choose from. 
4. My cattle prod.  Otherwise sex would be really boring.
5. Martial arts weapons.  Whatever the heck this is.  I thought karate kids killed people with fists and foreheads and chops. 
6. And the kicker? I can't even check my vehicle airbag.  Damn.

Remind me to write about the time I brought furry handcuffs on a cruise. 

Beauty and the Yeast.

As part of my child-rearing decisions, I decided to breastfeed.  The benefits abound, I knew that it was something I wanted to do for my baby.  What I did not know, however, was how hard it would be to actually commit to breastfeeding.  Spoiler alert: Elise is now 8 months old and I am still successfully breastfeeding.

Right before I gave birth, I had the standard Strep B test. I tested positive.  Lucky us.  So that meant that while I was labor I would need to have Penicillin every 4 hours.  I was in labor for 28 hours and I wound up having four horrible doses of the pen (it took 2 hours to administer each time because I had a very bad reaction to the normal speed drip so they had to slow it waaaaaay down).  Needless to say, it was bad.  Big time bad.  What I didn't know is that this copious amount of antibiotic that poured into my body would make me incredibly susceptible to yeast infections.  This is where the blog will get gross.  Not big time gross, but gross enough to warn any readers.  So that is my warning.

Now breastfeeding is hard.  For us, the physics of it worked out well and we had no trouble with latching or sucking or any of that stuff.  What was hard (which by "hard" I mean "not hard") were my nipples.  They were not ready for nursing, to say the least.  I had cracking and some bleeding, despite the fact that Elise was a confirmed "good latcher."  I tell you all this because the cracking of the nipples often leads to the dreaded yeast-beast.  When a body gets drunk from a penicillin cocktail, and you add an almost constantly wet environment, you can get one heck of a yeast hangover.  And that is what happened to me.  About two weeks after Elise was born I realized there was something wrong.  I'd endured the painful feedings and assumed that the pain was normal new-breastfeeding pain.  But when I had intense pain and burning and redness between nursings, well, I knew something else had to be going on.  I went to my midwife and she confirmed that I had thrush.  Elise did not have thrush. Thrush is just a yeast infection in the milk ducts.  And it milk duct suckt.

So the first time I had thrush, I took diflucan.  I drank chlorophyll.  I took a probiotic.  I used genetian violet (if you want purple nipples, I suggest you try some genetian violet.  It stains everything purple, including baby's mouth). I used vinegar to clean the "girls" between nursings.  I tried a lot.  Even with all my remedies working together, it still took nearly 5 weeks for the thrush to clear up.

Fast forward six months.  I started feeling the unpleasant but all-too-familiar itchy/burny suckiness.  I called the midwife and she gave me some more diflucan but then recommended I see a witchdoctor.  Ok.  She didn't actually say "witchdoctor."  That's what Eugene calls her.  She is just a naturopath.  She doesn't do magic or other witch things.  She did wear all black, but that is probably irrelevant.

I went to see said witchdoctor and she took some blood.  Upon examination, she told me that my yeast levels were incredibly high, especially considering that I'd been taking diflucan for a week already.  On a 1-5 scale, with 5 being the most yeast, I got a 6.  I also found out I have a B-12 deficiency and a leaky gut. 

I feel a lot better in the two days since I've been taking my new and natural regimen. I am now taking diflucan (one tablet a day), B-12 (2 a day), "yeast fighter" drops (30 a day), chlorophyll (36 drops in water a day), nux vomica drops (20 drops in water a day) and I have to limit my carbs.  None of it tastes that bad, although the chlorophyll stains everything it touches green ... which I guess is better than purple nurples.

Egg on my face.

As you know by now, I am a self-proclaimed chicken farmer.  With four laying hens, we are awash with eggs in the spring.  Now, our ladies are entering the spring of their second year.  Hens never lay as much in their later years as they do in their first year and in their first year, our hens laid an average of five eggs a day.  Some of the girls lay more than one egg a day, depending on her mood, I guess.  Last spring, which was our first spring of eggs, I believe there was one time when we had something like 100 eggs in our fridge.  In case you want to do the math, that is like 8 cartons of eggs (assuming we were using the dozen-egg cartons).  That's a lot of eggs.  More eggs then we could eat.  So we gave eggs away.  We gave eggs to our neighbors, coworkers, friends.  I gave eggs to the pest control guy (although he was desperate to give pecans away, so I can't say I gave him eggs without receiving something in return). I was desperate to give eggs away.

On a sidenote, our eggs are rather expensive to lay.  The hens themselves didn't cost very much (probably $50 for all five, including shipping) and the coop and run were built using supplies we mostly had in our house (and it was built by my wonderful Eugene).  What is expensive is the food.  We decided to feed our girls only organic layer food.  It costs about $35 for 50 pounds.  This may not sound like much, but regular old chicken food is about  $7 for 50 pounds.  Now, we have had to feed the girls the non-organic food on occasion.  The store where I get the organic food, Farmer D Organics, has limited hours so when we run out of food and are not prepared with a fresh bag, the store is often closed.  In a pinch, I've purchased chicken feed from Ace hardware.  Once, when we were going out of town, I had to buy birdseed and squirrel food from Kroger.  Chickens will eat almost anything, and since the squirrels always eat the chicken food, I figured we would be ok.  In any event, I've kept all most of the chickens alive and the occasional non-organic food hasn't caused anyone to suffer.  On the whole, though, the organic food makes for some delicious eggs and I believe it is completely worth the price.  As the saying goes, garbage in, garbage out.  What our girls eat goes directly into their eggs, which go directly into our bellies, so I want to make sure they eat right.  The eggs are creamier, deliciouser (I know it's not a word but you see where I'm going) and more orangy than any store-bought egg. 

After that sidenote, I now get to the point of this blog.  With so many eggs, I've decided that maybe I can do something with the eggs that doesn't involve eating them!  I found so many great homemade beauty products made from eggs!  You can make a simple face mask with eggs!  I tried it! I looked AWESOME stupid, but it worked!  The hairstyle I chose before taking the picture is not necessary or part of the mask.  You can actually "do" your hair if you are so inclined.

Eggs Mask!
Mix together 1 raw egg and 1 tablespoon of honey. Spread on your face and use tissue paper to cover. Let sit for 15-20 minutes and finally rinse off with tepid water.
There are other beauty products with eggs that I've yet to try...maybe tonight will be the night, as I've got like 40 eggs to use right now.  There are only so many quiche's a girl can eat.

Egg Mask (for oily skin)
Mix together 1 egg white and 1 tablespoon of oatmeal. Spread on face and neck, let sit for 15-20 minutes and rinse well with tepid water. This mask is especially good for removing blackheads.

Egg Mask (for normal skin)

Mix together 1 egg and 1 teaspoon of fresh sour cream. Sour cream is rich in lactic acid and helps soften and remove surface impurities and dead skin cells, leaving your skin soft and smooth. Spread on face and neck, let sit for 15-20 minutes and rinse well with tepid water.

Instructions for Doing an Egg Hair Treatment
Follow these simple instructions to use your every own egg treatment at home:

1. Wash your hair properly like you normally would do. Shampoo your hair so that it will remove any excess oil and will prepare the hair for the egg.
2. Take a bowl, and crack an egg in it. If you have long hair, use two eggs. Use a fork to scramble the eggs.
3. Now, apply the beaten egg mixture to your hair. Make sure you apply it all through the length of your hair. Once you are done applying the egg mixture to your hair, leave it on for about an hour.
4. The most important step is to wash the egg off your hair. It is necessary that you wash your hair with cold water. If you rinse your hair with warm water, you will not be able to get rid of the egg from your hair.
5. Shampoo your hair and wrap your hair with a towel for about a minute, so that the excess water is absorbed.
6. Leave your hair to dry naturally.
7. For beautiful, thick hair repeat the egg hair treatment at least once in every 15 days.

If anyone braves the smell of raw eggs (it's not that bad, I promise!!), let me know how if your bravery pays off??!!

Snatiation.

Snatiation is a term coined by some very serious scientists for a very serious and rare genetic defect.  If you've ever been around me when I'm eating, you've likely had to suffer through my disorder right along with me.  It is something that cannot be cured.  I will suffer with this defect for the rest of my life.

What is this condition that I suffer with on a regular basis?  I sneeze when I am full.  Food, drink, it doesn't matter.  I could be innocently drinking a cup of coffee when, BAM, uncontrolled sneezing.  Or maybe I'm eating chips and queso at my favorite Mexican restaurant when, ACHOO, the uncontrolled sneezing attacks. On the one hand, it is a good way to keep from really overeating.  When I get to sneezing, I simply can't indulge in whatever feast is sitting on the table. Why learn portion control when my body won't let me eat more than it can handle?

For a long time, I thought I suffered alone.  I know a lot of people experience "photic sneezing" which is sneezing when you step into bright light.  I do this too, but the sneezing when I'm full thing really wierded me out.  So I did what anyone would do. I googled it.

I've googled it a hundred times, at least.  The best I can find, it is called gastric sneezing or snatiation.  Apparently it is a rare thing to do.  I don't know anyone else who sneezes when full.  I decided to marry Eugene, though, only after learning his family history (I would have likely married him without knowing this strange bit of history...)

Early in our dating relationship, I learned that my husband gets a runny nose when he is full.  He also learned that, whenever I ate a lot (or drank a lot of water or coffee or anything) I would sneeze several times.  I told him that I sneeze when I'm full and he told me he nose runs.  The next thing he told me just let me know that fate was working in our favor.  Eugene told me that his grandmother sneezed when she was full and his grandfather got a runny nose! Having never known another person who sneezed with a full stomach, I just knew we were meant to be together!  We have, of couse, been happily snotty and sneezy together ever since...