2013: Review and Resolution

Another year has come and gone and it's time to assess the damage.

GOOD THINGS:

VACATION!  So wonderful!

Health Improvement: I finally figured out the cause of fatigue!

Pantry Remodel with a New Tile Countertop: So nice to get it done.

Blog: Never-ending entertainment.

Garden.

Ocean Entertainment: Clam digging.

Peter dies peaceful in old age under the garden shed.

SHIT HAPPENS:

Barking dogs for neighbors.

Can't find a new place to live.

The Moldy Slum Lady.

House maintenance: plumbing problems, heating problems, and sleazy construction workers.

On the radar of a psychopathic sex offender, unfortunately.

The government is so incompetent it amazes me they can function at all.

Peter disappears and might have been eaten alive.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION:

Make progress toward finding a new, non-toxic place to live and go on more vacations!


What is your New Year's Resolution?

Christmas Jammies

This is hilarious. Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

Laughter is good.

38 Degrees

Damn, it's cold in here. Granted, it's 12 degrees outside, but 38 degrees inside?

This Eden Pure Gen 4 heater definitely doesn't heat 1,000 square feet as the ads proclaim. So I've sealed off my office area which is 100 square feet so I can function. It doesn't even heat 100 square feet efficiently, but it's tolerable. Venturing out to the kitchen or the bathroom is an Arctic adventure. I've also brought the pee bucket into my office to use as a toilet as I'm afraid my naked butt will stick to the frozen toilet seat and I've moved my camping mattress down into my office. I'm really glad I spent my vacation camping in 20 degree weather. It prepared me for this winter! No winter projects for me this year. It's challenging enough just trying to think of creative ways to stay warm.

On the positive side, I feel so much better. My lungs and sinuses aren't congested and the rash on my face has disappeared. I am living in the square footage of a tiny house and loving it! Now if I could just stop shivering.

I need to re-think my heating situation...



I moved the olive oil to the stove top.
It's  so cold,
it's opaque and solid.

Salt

When I was a young, immortal, junk-food junkie, I ate plenty of salt as my diet consisted of 99% processed food with an occasional apple here and there for good measure. I really believed "an apple a day kept the doctor away" regardless of whatever else I consumed. My blood pressure was amazingly low considering the damage my diet was doing to my body.

While in college I went to work at a health food store and with the indoctrination that comes with being around healthy-minded people, I had some basic health-food-store principles beaten into me. One was salt was bad. Salt would kill you. Is that why it makes me blow up like a balloon with water retention? I knew it made me feel fat. I gave it all up. I stopped eating potato chips, canned soups, frozen dinners, processed popcorn, pizza, and beef jerky: the staples of my diet. I banned table salt from my salt shaker. My blood pressure remained low, but I was convinced all that self-denial was doing some good.

 

Many years later when chemical sensitivity was rearing its ugly head, my environmental medicine specialist suggested I eat sea salt. With my indoctrination still intact I was horrified, Oh no, salt is BAD! He disagreed. SEA SALT hasn't been bleached and processed, nor has it been soaked with chemicals and enhancing additives, therefore, it still retains its natural ratios of nutrients, especially trace minerals. He explained we need minerals, especially trace minerals, to keep our bodies in balance which helps in the detoxification of poisons. My chemical sensitivity was based on my inability to detoxify. He suggested my lack of natural salt might have contributed to my chemical sensitivity. It's pretty shocking to hear all that self-denial I thought was helping my state of health might have been doing more harm than good. I tried sea salt and had no side effects. My body didn't swell with water retention and my blood pressure remained low. And OH! It tasted so good!

 

 

I rarely eat processed or canned foods now so my salt intake is probably lower than an average American. My consumption of fresh fruits and vegetables also adds potassium to my diet which is the great equalizer to sodium. I do, however, use a salt shaker full of sea salt and sprinkle it on beef, chicken, rice, squash, and eggs. Yum. And it makes vegetables edible. Bonus. I've grown to love salt! Lately I switched from Celtic sea salt to Himalayan pink salt. This pink salt is still considered sea salt although found in the mountains that were once under water. Hmmm...sounds like fancy sales mythology, but it still makes food taste good and I still have no reaction to it.

Throughout the years I've heard about how salt causes high blood pressure, or what is known as hypertension. There is some debate on whether sea salt is better than regular iodized table salt. Conventional medical doctors say it isn't and the only difference is sea salt tastes better. Some say it's the sodium levels and the chloride ratios that cause the problem regardless of the source.  In other references I've read some people are predisposed to being "salt sensitive." African Americans, in particular, tend to accumulate excesses of sodium and it is highly advised they limit their salt consumption to avoid associated health issues. Even salt sensitive people can have low blood pressure.

I still have low-ish blood pressure, although not as low as when I was younger. However, I was rather athletic in my youth which I'm sure contributed to my readings. Not so much now. I have been diagnosed with Hashimoto's Thyroiditis which is an autoimmune condition that affects the thyroid and with diet I have been able to control it. I am told iodine can trigger autoimmune attacks in people with Hashimoto's. So I wonder...if sea salt has natural levels of minerals, it probably has its share of natural iodine. Would it make a difference if I stopped using it? Since giving up dried fruits, I haven't been tired, but I could use a little more energy. It's time for another elimination test!

I started my experiment three weeks ago by going to the nearest hospital to have my blood pressure checked. It read 118/75 which is considered normal, although getting suspiciously close to prehypertension. Then I gave up my salt shaker and went salt-free!

Observations:

Rice is only edible with salt.

Eggs taste better with salt.

Second day: My whole body is in pain. At first I thought it was from crawling around under my house, but the first time I did the crawl I had no pain. Then I thought maybe it was from the very minor exercising I do, but I've never been in pain before from simple stretching or walking. Every muscle in my body hurts.

Third day: Muscle pain, thirst, nausea, sweating, and headaches. Although I'm still skeptical that this is all from eliminating salt from my diet, it's too coincidental. I've increased my water intake. I don't know if that will help or make it worse as I have read about ramifications of the lack of salt, or hyponatremia. For instance, marathon runners or anyone who exercises vigorously shouldn't consume enormous amounts of water as it will flush the salt from their blood creating problems such as confusion, nausea, seizures, coma and even death. I'm only in pain and experiencing slight nausea at this point. If I get confused or start feeling dead I might eat some salt just to see if it makes a difference. I'm guessing my body is adjusting and it'll take  couple days or it's something totally unrelated causing all this discomfort.

I'M A SALT ADDICT!

 

I searched online and found out I'm going through salt withdrawals! Ha! Who would have thought? Symptoms may include headache, nausea, loss of appetite, depression, and anxiety, to name a few. Food will taste disgustingly bland, but eventually will start tasting good so I look forward to that. Most people intensely crave salt during withdrawals. I'm not craving salt. Well, not yet. The headaches can last 3-5 days or longer because my aldosterone (hormone) levels are adjusting to compensate for the lack of sodium in my body. The remedy is drinking sea salt water because it's assumed the addict is giving up regular, processed table salt and sea salt has minerals to counteract the withdrawals. So I did the next best thing: I took a scalding hot bath with Epsom Salts. I figured that should help with the muscle pain. It did for about fifteen minutes.

 

Fifth day: Headaches and nausea have gone away. Muscle recovery is still slow. Any exercise, even minor, makes my whole body hurt as if I've exercised vigorously for a full eight hours. I know athletes who exercise a lot must replenish their bodies with salt which is how Gatorade and other sports drinks have become so popular. Maybe it's a type of dehydration? Maybe the sea salt stored in my system keeps my muscles hydrated? I am more thirsty.

Seventh day: Severe leg cramps and legs are freezing cold from the knees down and I can't seem to warm them up no matter what I do. Leg cramps are another symptom of hyponatremia, which is low blood sodium. This kind of worries me. I'd like to think it's just coincidental or maybe I exercised too much yesterday, but I didn't do so much it should cause pain. I also read conditions associated with hyponatremia include hypothyroidism, which is a symptom associated with Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. Now that is weirdly coincidental. Maybe that doctor was right in more ways than one: salt is not only good for detoxing and chemical sensitivity, but will also keep my autoimmune condition in check? Maybe I NEED sea salt in my diet? Everything I'm reading says too little salt is as bad as too much and this constant discomfort is rather worrisome. I'm still not craving salt. Not sure if I should stop this test, or keep going and see if the symptoms all go away.

I stuck my fingertip in water and then in salt and ate that much one night. Didn't make a difference with the leg cramps and I'm not willing to stop the diet just yet.

Week Two:  I'm still getting leg cramps, but no headaches, thirst, or muscle pain. I'm feeling a little down, apathetic, and lethargic. I don't normally feel this way so maybe it's a by-product from lack of salt? It always amazes me how people don't trust their own body's clues. Most people would think they are just feeling down ignoring it could be a symptom of something else entirely. These days depression is erroneously considered a disease instead of a symptom and treated with drugs without questioning the cause.

I'm still not craving salt either, but I'm feeling inclined to eat butter! Years ago when I was salt-free I craved butter and although I bought unsalted butter, butter is naturally salty. The Hashimoto's diet doesn't allow dairy so butter isn't even on my radar (nor in my refrigerator), but I'm still thinking about it.

I don't know if food tastes better in general, but I know rice and eggs still aren't tasting as good as they did with salt. In fact, no matter how I prepare rice, it's just not good without salt. I've never liked rice.

Week Three: Leg cramps have nearly gone away. No longer feel horrible, but I don't feel better either which I had hoped might come from less iodine. No surprising amounts of energy or stamina. Still lethargic.

At the end of week three I went back to the hospital to get my blood pressure checked. No one was at the emergency reception desk. I waited. Again, as I have many times in the past, I exclaimed in the privacy of my head I am so glad I've never had a medical emergency while living in Rathole!  I was warned early when I first came to the edge of civilization, if something goes wrong, start driving in any direction out of town. It takes an hour to get to the next hospital and hopefully I won't die along the way. There is more than one reason I have no desire to stay and retire in Rathole.

I finally found a nurse at the nurse station at the far end of the hospital. She was sitting around with four other nurses gossiping. She took my blood pressure. 144/61.  REALLY? The diastolic went down slightly, but the systolic went up? I've never had such a high reading. I had read giving up salt can raise your blood pressure. Well, OK. I guess I'll just accept that I NEED salt and it'll probably make me feel better, too.

Then I went toilet paper shopping and on the way to squeeze the Charmin I passed one of those automatic blood pressure machines just outside their pharmacy. Hmmm...I went back. I've always been told these machines are notoriously inaccurate and are rarely calibrated, but what the hell? Not that I had any confidence in a hospital (known as a "temple of doom" by some) let alone the whole medical system, but if you can't get an accurate reading at a hospital, what is left? I don't have anything to lose. The reading at the grocery store was 113/53. The diastolic seems a little low, but that could be what is causing the lethargy.

Forget the readings. I'll trust myself and my symptoms before I'll trust a machine. I don't like feeling lethargic. Pardon me while I go eat some salt.

 

I feel so much better!

Made in...Bangladesh? Really??

'Tis the season to shop. I'm still searching for a non-toxic raincoat. Mine is now thirteen years old and far from waterproof. So much of everything is made in China and stinks because cheap means materials with toxic chemicals are used. I avoid buying anything from China, hence, I don't buy much. I'd so much rather buy American made even if it costs more, but finding American-made products is difficult.

Refusing to buy toxic products from China is a movement many have joined. I heard about this all last year from salespeople so I know I'm not alone. We are tired of low-quality merchandise created by slave labor. We prefer an un-outsourced production of good quality, all-American products. Well, some of us. Since a majority of Americans are stupid, the majority are still willing to shop at cheap stores that offer Chinese garbage which is why WalMart is still in business.

This year, again, I'm on the lookout for a new raincoat. Strange thing about this year is so few clothing labels are confessing their Chinese roots. Now clothing with American labels is made in Mexico, El Salvador, Honduras, India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh. Really? One has to wonder if the company shipped their worker-slaves to another country and re-shackled them to another factory? Or sold them to the highest bidder and found some new indentured slaves?

Or are they lying? Can they legally state the item is made in Bangladesh if they have an address there even if it's only where their accounting is outsourced? Or do they even care about label requirements? Who's going to check? Most consumers will read the label and not question the print. Not made in China! HOORAY! Let's buy two! And we all know label requirements are always monitored by the government, right? And the government always protects us, right? The FDA and USDA always does such an excellent job, right? Are these less-intolerable third world country locations just the latest sales gimmick?

MADE IN AMERICA! HOORAY!

Peter the Peaceful

 

Today I decided to give away Peter's house and hutch and made plans to visit a friend of mine. The day I got Peter I hauled him into her office to show him off. Poor Peter. I still remember him sitting on the counter not knowing what to do with himself. He was so much smaller then. She understood my excitement as she had a feisty boy bunny named Burt. At the time we thought Bella [Peter's name before his sex change] was a girl, so during our next visit she gave me one of Burt's toys to share with Bella. It was a little stuffed bunny.

"Bella will love the smell of it."

"Bella" mutilated it and soon after I discovered Peter was a boy. It all made sense.

My friend also grew up on a farm and is the head of 4-H for our county. She knows animals and she'd know who would need a free rabbit house or hutch. As luck or coincidence would have it, I saw her today walking into the post office so I parked and went in. I asked if she knew anyone who would have need of a house or hutch. She looked at me sympathetically and asked if Peter had passed. Burt had passed a few years ago, but I didn't find out for months. She couldn't bring herself to tell anyone and refused to talk about him until many months later.

I explained it was much worse than that. He disappeared. I had no idea what happened, but I only imagined the worse. My friend said that happens. It happened to her cat. I asked if her cat had disappeared without a trace. No, she heard the dogs kill her cat. I told her I was sorry. She thought for a minute.

"But wasn't Peter quite old?"

"Yes, he was eight. I expected I'd go out one day soon and find him lying still under a bush."

"That is very old for a rabbit. And he was outside in the yard for a number of years. Did he ever have a problem before now."

"No."

"And you haven't seen predators lurking about because you know if they found food once, they will come back to check for more."

"No. Nothing."

She explained, "It doesn't sound like anything killed him or he would have put up a fight. You would have found fur all over the yard. Animals prepare for death and are very crafty about hiding their remains."

"But everyday for nearly two weeks I walked around the yard checking. The garden shed is the most practical hiding place. I should have smelled something if he was under the shed."

"Oh, no, you wouldn't have. Old animals about to die den up. They do whatever possible so predators will not find their remains especially in the wild. They will often dig or bury themselves. You usually won't smell them nor find them." She told me of rebuilding a porch at her old family home and discovering the bones of a cat. She didn't know which one as so many of them in old age just disappeared. My old childhood cat disappeared on our farm, too, and I remember an adult saying animals like to die in private.

I stared at her with my mouth hanging open. Then I burst into tears the first time in weeks. In between sobs I said, "Thank you! I am so relieved to know he IS under the garden shed and died in peace like he should have."

R.I.P. Peter Rabbit

Roasted Roots (recipe)

I've been trying to find uses for kale. I know kale is supposed to be really, really good for a body, but the first recipe I tried I found it intolerable and impossible to eat. It hurts. The texture is hard, the edges are sharp, chewing is too much work, and the taste is nasty. Like spinach only stronger. Then I read kale also thickens blood. This is great if you have thin blood, but thick blood runs in my family and although I probably don't eat, drink or smoke like my relatives have done throughout the ages, this still might make me susceptible to heart attacks and blood clots. Still, extra minerals added to my diet are a good thing now and then.

Then I found this roasted root recipe out of Chef Daniel Bruce: Simply New England cookbook that mixes root vegetables with kale. Roasted roots are also very good for a body loaded with vitamins and minerals, and yummy as warm winter meals. The kale is not only mixed with something, but cut up into teeny, tiny little bits so I thought I might be able to tolerate that! What I didn't realize until I went shopping for ingredients is there are different types of kale.



Italian Lacinato Kale

What I purchased for the first recipe was "Green Kale." Really curly, and like I mentioned previously, sharp and painful. This new discovery is called "Italian Kale" or "Lacinato Kale." No sharpness. No pain.

Ingredients:

2 medium peeled carrots
1 small peeled butternut squash
1 small rutabaga
1 medium peeled red onion
1 cup chopped kale
1/4 cup olive oil
2/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper

Preheat oven 425 degrees. Cut veggies into 1/2 inch pieces. Toss with olive oil, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Spread on cookie sheet. Bake 15 minutes, toss, bake another 15 minutes. Return to bowl. Stir in kale, cover, let sit 5 minutes. Serve.

Yum.

I've also been mixing teeny pieces of Italian Kale in my green salads. Tolerable.

Another person told me about kale chips so I tried them. Yuck. I was surprised they turned into crispy chips rather than soggy green, but they still tasted like kale and all alone not mixed with anything that's too much kale-ness for me!

Giving Thanks

The Thanksgiving holiday is a time to be grateful for what you have. We often tend to concentrate on the negative and take for granted the positive. Things I am thankful for:

My health, that keeps me mobile, cognitive, happy, and alive.

My wonderfully safe and bizarrely decorated house, that keeps me sheltered, entertained, and healthy.

My garden, that produces beautiful flowers, organic foods and serenity.

My van, that runs so well and has so many uses.

My fragrance-free friends, that keep me sane and entertained.

My income, that keeps me stress-free.

My computer, that provides income, entertainment, and a social life.

What else?

My annual rituals for this holiday are making my Christmas wreath and watching White Christmas. My unplanned rituals are eating something I shouldn't and being lazy.

Life is good.

What makes you give thanks?

Dental Dangers

Dentist offices can be hazardous to the health of a chemically-sensitive person. Prior to making the appointment, call and interview the receptionist to find out office protocol and safety. Be very clear about your fragrance-free and chemical-free needs. Don't take anything for granted and assume the receptionist and staff are clueless until they prove otherwise. Here are some potential office toxins and questions to ask before you make your first appointment:

Do staff members wear perfumes, colognes, scented hand lotions or other toxic products? Some dental offices have fragrance-free standards because being scent-free is a medical protocol, but some are managed as if it's still the 1960s. If they indicate they don't have a clue, don't waste your time trying to educate them.

Does the office use air fresheners in any capacity? Plug-in type or aerosol? I knew of one dental hygienist who sprayed her chair after each patient because she didn't want a patient's body odor offending others. It's a high stress area so people sweat!

Appointments: What day is the slowest with the least amount of patients? What time of day is the slowest? They can't help it if their patients stink so it's best to avoid them if possible. I have found a mid-week, first appointment of the day to be the best, however, be aware of commuter traffic issues and automobile exhaust air pollution.

How do they sterilize their equipment? Do they use chemicals, steam under pressure (autoclaving), or dry heat? What about disinfectants? At what time during the day do they do this? Most often this is done at the end of the day so make your appointment accordingly.

Are scented, latex gloves used? Do they have unscented and/or non-latex options available? Any other secretly scented supplies?

What is required: examination, cleaning, and/or x-rays? Most offices will require an exam and x-ray with every annual appointment. Do you want to be radiated that often? Thyroid cancer is on the rise and the causation theory is dental x-rays. Chemicals can zap our thyroids anyway - no need to help it along. The justification for requiring x-rays is liability, but enlightened dentists will allow their patients to sign waivers stating as the patient you have opted not to get x-rays unless there are obvious symptoms or problems that need a more a in-depth check. These offices will want copies of past x-rays so they have some information on your tooth structure and anatomy. If the office doesn't give you the option of a radiation-free visit, don't settle. Keep looking. In my opinion, it has less to do with liability than profits. There is a lot of money to be made requiring unnecessary x-rays and if insurance is willing to pay, why not make it a requirement?

After each patient use, do they wash off the lead protective coverings that shield your thyroid from x-ray radiation? Be aware of perfume residue left from the previous patient.

With cleaning comes scented and flavored polish. Is polish required? This may be included in the cleaning cost or an added expense so by opting out, you could save some money. In addition, some offices have the option of flavorless and scent-free pumice. I've never had a dental office require polish, but they usually argue with me when I refuse it as if it's the best part of the whole appointment. Not sure why.

Do they use mercury for amalgam material? Do they remove mercury amalgams? What are their safety protocols? If you opt to have amalgams removed, ask about the replacement material. Some composites made with plastics can be just as problematic.

 

Make sure your questions are answered and your needs are clear BEFORE your appointment so you are not liable if something goes wrong. If you go in, have a reaction and have to leave, a lot of offices will charge you for the last minute cancellation.

These are the basics, but other poisonous substances may be lurking anywhere unbeknown to the MCSer until it's too late. For instance, magazines in the waiting room will often have perfume-scented inserts. Bring your own reading material and sit in the far corner.

 

I didn't go to a dentist for eight years and finally found one that was fragrance-free. It was a long, hard search for one so enlightened. They were fine with no polish, but they required x-rays every other visit. So I continued my search and found one who was fragrance-free AND didn't require x-rays! Health-minded dentists are rare, but do exist. Someday they will be the norm rather than the exception.

What are your experiences? Did I miss anything?

Torture

Digging...

My baby boy has been gone now for a week. I wander the yard daily looking for clues to his disappearance. Was he attacked and hauled away by a vicious eagle? If so, there would be fur as I know he would have put up a fight. Or body parts if he was eaten. I can't imagine anything but an eagle could have lifted his fat body so it would have had to have eaten him on the spot. I've checked for holes in the dirt or holes in fence. Did he somehow escape? No sign of him.

I have dreams about him every night and spend my days feeling some kind of weird survivor guilt. Why couldn't I have protected him better? Should I have jailed him in his hutch?

Digging...

At the same time I feel lucky to have had him in my life these many years and I'm sure he appreciated being free to hop around the yard and sample the wonderful plants rather than being confined to the sterile life of a hutch.

I finally came to terms with his disappearance: removing his dishes, cleaning his toilet area, removing the chicken wire from the gardens, and closing the gate between the front and back yards. Some items like his bed, his food, and his herbs I've kept, just in case. I haven't given up hope yet. Everyday I look out the windows of my house expecting him to be back...from vacation, well-rested and eager to get back to his gardening duties.

Today I headed to the front yard and...there is a hole under the gate!!

The hole was dug from the front yard. Whatever it was couldn't climb the gate. A raccoon, opossum, or cat would have climbed the fence rather than worked so hard at digging.

It's the same size as a fat rabbit. Was it looking for food? Peter's food was kept in the backyard.

Motivated by new hope, I inspected both yards searching for holes in the ground or holes in the fence. Did he really just go on vacation? I whispered his name here and there waiting for him to jump out. Still no sign of him.

I'm not sure if I'm crazy or if Peter's ghost is haunting the yard.

This is torture.

UPDATE: I filled the hole and the next morning it was dug again, only this time from the backyard to the front. Hmmmm...I don't think it's Peter. He's never been so mysterious. But I have no idea what kind of animal is digging holes instead of climbing or small enough to go through the fence.

Official MCS Cult Film Nomination

I just watched the movie Safe starring Julianne Moore and written and directed by Todd Haynes. It's a fictional Hollywood movie made in 1999 about a woman who becomes chemically sensitive. Naturally, I was curious. The CD jacket summary says it's "...a bold, darkly comic, completely original drama...feel free to laugh or scream." Darkly comic? Laugh? What am I missing? Is chemical sensitivity funny to people in Hollywood?

The main character, "Carol" played by Julianne Moore, is a suburban housewife living in the San Fernando valley in the late 1980s. She spends her days having lunch with friends, taking dancercise classes (remember those?), remodeling her house, running errands, and going to baby showers. One by one toxic exposures are introduced: new furniture, interior painting, pesticide spraying, dry cleaning pick up, freeway driving, and her husband is shown dousing himself with aerosol deodorant, hairspray, cologne and aftershave. Then she gets her hair permed.  She plunges into illness with coughing fits, rashes, respiratory failure, fatigue, brain fog, insomnia, and even has a seizure. Her doctor is realistically useless, her husband is an insensitive ass, and her friends look at her as if she's crazy.

Sounds fairly accurate, doesn't it? I think this movie would be fun to watch with other MCSers so we could all gasp, moan, and scream in shared horror, understanding and camaraderie. It has the potential to be a cult film. We would all yell DON'T DO IT in unison especially during the beauty parlor scene.  Maybe that's what is comic about it? If it wasn't for the outrageously horrible acting, bad scriptwriting, and lousy plot, I might have empathetically enjoyed watching all that suffering. I can say it's one of the worst films I've ever seen.

"Carol" ends up at a co-housing retreat for the chemically sensitive. It's a strange place that would have given me the willies, but as the movie viewer I'm hoping it'll be a safe place for her and she'd find some relief from the L.A. poisons. They have creepy group meetings where they are forced to listen to sermons given by the cult-like leader, they chant affirmations, and they are given odd rules regarding meals, but the place is not so restrictive that her visiting husband can't wear his cologne. Hmmm...Strangely enough she continues to be sick and even gets sicker the longer she's there. Although she's very passive and soft-spoken throughout the movie, she timidly voices her concern about the fumes around her cabin. Management's response is a bit of psycho-babble. Hmmm...why is the place so toxic?

Then the theme and underlying message presents itself. Near the end there is a scene where the incredibly irritating guru-type leader is outside with a small group of participants and he's addressing each one individually demanding to know, "How did YOU make YOURSELF sick?"

WHAT? WHAT did he say? I thought my hearing was off, but thankfully he repeats the question over and over again so the audience doesn't miss it.

"HOW DID YOU MAKE YOURSELF SICK?"

Almost all the patients had stories about past mental trauma which created a psychological reaction which manifested itself into their illness. They felt overwhelmingly guilty. They knew their illness was their fault. WHAT??? As the guru questioned each participant, I waited for someone to clarify that MCS is not a psychological condition.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Carol smiles sweetly and passes, refusing to answer. Finally, the last patient he asks gives him such a hostile look I'm thinking she'll be the one to set it all straight. The leader taunts her and demands she be honest with herself and the group.  She glares at him as if to say I'll give you honesty, ass-wipe! and through gritted teeth she yells she wants to get a gun and kill everyone who made her sick. HOORAY! Now I can relate to her perspective! Unfortunately, this character is only being used to show how very mentally disturbed MCSers can be and she is told she is not being honest with herself and until she is, she will continue to be ill. The ass-wipe sarcastically and condescendingly laughs as he shakes his head and explains to the group she has a lot of work to do. I don't know why she stays. I would have walked out. I was absolutely livid.

This ending explains the movie's opening scene with poor Carol bored to tears while having sex with her husband. It's an aerial view so you can see the look on her face which clearly screams, "I can't wait to get this over with!" Sex is something that is insufferable - a marital duty. Throughout the whole movie I was wondering what was the purpose of that scene? It seemed so out of place until the psycho-group scene which makes a very clear statement: we are all just nut cases creating this illness to deal with our boring lives.

By the end of the movie, even in this so-called safe environment, Carol's health has declined to the point where she is practically unrecognizable. I guess she still hasn't accepted she caused her illness and it's going to kill her. In the last scene we find her staring at the mirror in her porcelain-lined, sterile cabin saying to herself repeatedly, "I love you." She has caved and accepted she is the cause. Not the chemicals. Not the poisons. She is the cause of her illness. Now THAT is kind of laughable, but I really don't think it was supposed to be. Or maybe it was and I just don't find it funny?

I am shocked someone admitted to watching this movie for research let alone suggested I see it as if it is an accurate portrayal of chemical sensitivity. It was so poorly done. I was very surprised Hollywood would make a feature film on MCS, but unfortunately it fails in every way. I think the AMA or some chemical company produced it. Siskel & Ebert gave it two thumbs up. Really? I have lost all respect for Siskel & Ebert.

How did YOU make YOURSELF sick?

Easy answer: I watched this movie.

M.I.A.

PETER RABBIT

LAST SEEN 11/17/13

 

 

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BUNNY?

 

 

Sunday night I gave him a carrot treat and he hopped away dragging it behind him. Monday I didn't see him all day, but I didn't think anything of it until the afternoon when I noticed there was a lot of food still in his dish. Usually by afternoon it's nearly gone. When I went out at dusk to get his bowl, not only did I notice there was a lot of food left, but it hadn't even been touched since I put it in the bowl that morning. I looked the yard over and no sign of him. I decided I'd wait until morning light to do a thorough check.

 

At first light I checked again and this time went to all his normal hiding places and lounging spots. Under boards, bushes, trees, and porches, on decks and behind sheds. No sign of him. I left the camellia bush for last and with much trepidation, parted the branches and looked into his sawdust-covered "cave" (it's really a large plant pot on its side with a rain-proof covering over it). I though for sure I'd find him curled up as if sleeping, but dead.

 

When I didn't find him dead, I was a little relieved until I started imagining the worst. Either an owl or eagle swooped down in the night and took him away to eat him alive (the worse case scenario), or in mid-flight dropped him (oh, I worry about this as he could be out wandering in the wild with injuries), or he's dead under the garden shed. I went for a walk down by the river which is next to the field outside my yard...just in case. No sign of him.

The garden shed is his other nighttime sleeping place. If he's dead under the garden shed I'll never see his body unless I demolish the building, but I might be able to smell it in a few days. If indeed he is dead, I do hope I get some kind of proof or I'll be tormented for a long time. He has disappeared before, but not for this long and never without eating on the sly. I haven't started crying yet. I keep looking outside just in case he appears, hopping cheerfully across the yard and doing a binky or two.

 

The garden feels very quiet...sigh.

 



Clam Digging

I only look annoyed because
I haven't caught any clams yet.

It wasn't difficult for my friend to talk me into a clamming license this year, even though I only used last year's license twice. Last year was butter clams and I have to say, although it was a new and exciting thing to do, not nearly as fun and exciting as digging for razor clams! Razor clams run! Or rather, attempt to dig themselves to safety so there is much more challenge and skill involved.

I haven't gone razor clam digging since I was very young. My grandmother was incredibly fast, strong and skilled at clam digging much more so than my grandfather so I have fond memories of gender pride. We used to help by identifying the "shows" so they knew where to dig, but we were too small to dig fast enough to catch one.

My friend has a clam "gun." It's not really a gun, but a tube that digs into the sand and can pull up massive amounts of sand out of a hole, hopefully along with the clam. So fun. There is a technique to it that I mastered in no time, but hauling wet sand out of a hole is exhausting. We've gone twice and both times shared his clam gun which gives my shoulders, knees and back a break. It takes some practice to get strong.

The first time I didn't even get my limit so I gave them all to my friend. The second time I didn't either, and he gave all his to me. My friend taught me how to clean them. I didn't like this part. It's like murdering small, helpless animals, even though they don't have eyes and sweet expressions. But they sure taste good! I hadn't eaten clams for years! Sorry to say, they aren't on the Hashimoto's diet as shellfish are considered toxic, but it's part of the local culture so I'm cheating. And these are as fresh as you can get rather than canned.

 

Today I bought my own clam gun! I'm so proud. I feel "official." Other tools and supplies are: clam digging license, bucket or clam net for carrying the catch, flashlight, headlight or lantern, really warm clothes and lots of layers, rain gear, gloves for warmth and plastic gloves to keep your hands dry, and water-proof boots.

Clamming equipment (left to right): lantern, bucket, net, license,
clam gun, gloves, rubber boots

This time of the year it can be very cold and wet so it pays to stay warm and dry. Low tide is often right at dusk and the best digging is after dark. When clam season opened a few weeks ago, I had never seen so many people on the beach at one time.

The first time we went I didn't have boots as my old ones were worn and no longer water proof. No boots means you don't have the luxury of wading in ice cold water and you constantly having to be aware of the waves unless you want to be soaked and freezing. This was a pain and made me not only ineffective, but not even helpful. Before the second dig, I bought some cheap boots at the local hardware store, but they were made with PVC so as soon as I got them in the car I couldn't breathe. I know PVC is deadly, but I figured I would get them home fast and let them offgas on the porch. I didn't even get out of the parking lot before I turned around and I returned them immediately all the while gasping for air. I know better! I got online and found 100% rubber boots at Cabela's, the store for all things outdoorsy or what I like to call the hunter's vortex complete with dead animal displays. Most of their products are made in the USA so I was very happy to spend twice as much for these boots in comparison to the cheap, toxic, Chinese-made boots. Good boots make all the difference and last twice as long. These boots still need to offgas out on the porch, but rubber isn't nearly as toxic as the PVC.

Third time, I went alone. I looked forward to it all week so when the rain started pouring and the wind blowing, did that stop me? No way! The great thing about bad weather is there aren't as many people. I finally got my limit of 15 and did it all before it got dark! Then this really cute Fish and Wildlife Officer pulled up beside me when I was walking back and asked how I did. He didn't want to count my clams, but I would have gladly showed them off. As we were talking I kept thinking, Oh Lord, I hope I counted right because if he counts and I'm over, I might be going to jail!"

Most of them nice and big, but the first couple I butchered
until I got the hang of it.

 

Ocean activities even during the cold of winter are not only invigorating, but also good for the respiratory tract. Any breathing difficulty or sinus congestion is quickly remedied with a good, clean ocean air activity. I look forward to these trips. I can breathe!



So fun! Excellent fragrance-free entertainment.

Crawling Through Space, or Construction Karma, Part 5,201

You can't imagine how much it irritates me that I'm still working on getting my crawlspace fixed and sealed. At the onset of fall I discovered my heating system was making me miserably ill. I called too many heating specialists only to be told by most their area didn't include the edge of civilization. I finally found one who arrived with the goal of selling me a brand new very expensive heating system. I thought I hired him for an inspection. Since my heating system works, there are no rebates and I can't even justify so much expense. I was also told because of the type of furnace and ducts, I can't even get it cleaned. I found a duct sealing person to check the ducts and offer a quote. At that time he also suggested he could clean and seal the crawlspace for me. It's been two months and I guess he changed his mind since he unprofessionally refuses to respond to my emails. This is typical behavior at the edge of civilization.

I called and emailed another ten companies who advertise crawlspace work, but none of them would come to the edge of civilization, so I did what needed to be done and crawled under my house in an attempt to do it myself. Through rat shit, opossum shit, fiberglass insulation, dirt, dust, and spider webs, I took a ShopVac cleaner and vacuumed as much as I could. Unfortunately the ShopVac was too large to go too far as it wouldn't fit under the heat ducts. I used spray foam to seal the holes found between the cement skirt and the house. When I wasn't swearing or screaming, I was crying out of frustration. I completed one quarter of the crawlspace before I gave up. It took me about three hours. My knees were bruised and my lungs were a mess, but this gave me a very realistic idea of what this work entails.

So I lowered my standards and went shopping for a construction worker in the Rathole area. I had no confidence, but I also had no choice unless I wanted to repeat my crawlspace experience. I hired a guy everyone has told me not to hire as he's incompetent, slow, and for every mistake he'll make he'll not only charge you for the time to figure it out, but charge you for all the extra supplies he must replace. Word travels fast in a small community. What was I thinking? I was obviously desperate. A couple people told me he might do well with a very simple project. It's dirty and time-consuming, but it doesn't take a lot of mental ability. I figured if I could do it, anyone could.

He shows up with two teenagers who will be his assistants and expects I will pay all three of them. I assume it will take one third the time. He refused to get under the house. He spends the first two hours arguing with them as they try to explain what it looks like. He offers a couple of substandard ideas on how to get the work done which I reject and we finally come up with a solution. He kept repeating the better solution will take more time and cost me more. He gives me a price $300 to seal the whole crawlspace (the cleaning part was ignored!). I'm fine with that as he doesn't realize I was willing to pay three times that amount to get it done right. He's also offering some elaborate construction plan to block the openings on the west side of the house - this is where Santy Claws front door was located last Christmas. OK! I'm still not confident he knows what he's doing, but it sounds like a good plan. I intend to watch every step they make.

As the project starts, he continues to argue with the teenagers. They seem to know more about construction than he does, but he wants to appear to be the boss. His job is to cut the wood to the dimensions they request. The rest of the time he stands around. Every piece of wood he handles he either cuts it wrong or forgets to cut it, the kids drag it under the house and THEN realize it's wrong, drag it back, it all starts over. Such wasted time. His management of the teenagers is pathetic. Every time he drops something it takes him an eternity to pick it up. Is he just old or is he purposely trying to waste my time? The dollars are flying out of my pocket. So tired of watching everyone stand around arguing, I got under the house and looked at what they were doing. Yeah, they are adding wood to block the open space, but there are still holes big enough for rodents to get in. Eventually I decide it's bad enough watching him stand around, but when the teenagers start standing around, I take over management and tell them exactly what I want done. They complete about 15 feet of crawlspace wall to my specifications. I fire them only I do it so nicely he doesn't realize I just want him off my property. He charges me $253 for 15 feet and exclaims, "See, we came in under the quote!" My mouth dropped open and I replied, "Three hundred dollars was for the WHOLE crawlspace, not just 15 feet." Good riddance.

So I get back in the saddle and call a few other Rathole construction workers, names I've not heard of. If I haven't heard of them, that is a good sign. Many don't even return my call. One shows up, a new roofing company in town with a claim they do any kind of construction. When the owner arrives I recognize him. He has changed his company name probably because of all the problems he had in the past and his bad reputation for being incompetent. I try to tell him almost half of the crawlspace is done, but he says it'll still take two men and six hours to do the job. He quotes $600. He also refuses to get under the house to actually look at what needs to be done. I tell him, "Oh, that's a really good price - for ROOFING. This is a crawlspace." He comes back with $400. I tell him I'll call him. As always, I stress about the two men who will show up at my house. Will they stink? Will they smoke? Will I need to tell them to leave? Too much stress and worry.


I give up. I'm out of construction workers to call. I buy more spray foam, don my home-made biohazard outfit, and crawl back under the house to do the remaining half. This time I made sure not to remove the mask until I was well away from the crawlspace and had removed the dirty biohazard jumpsuit. No lung issues this time. I'm learning, BUT I don't want to learn! I don't want to do it at all! I see all the holes the teenagers missed AND I finally see where the heating ducts have detached from the furnace. I push them back into place. You'd think with all the people I've had under the house, someone could have pointed that out. It only took me one hour to get the rest of the crawlspace sealed. My whole body hurts, but I saved myself $400. Priceless.

The crawlspace is done to the best of my ability, I know nothing was dishonestly left undone, and I didn't have to deal with the stress of incompetent people.

I bought a new infrared space heater that's heating my house just fine. Hooray!

Now I'm worried about the two puddles of water under the house...where did they come from?

This house is a never-ending money pit. Can I move now?

'Shrooms

Today I went mushroom hunting...in my backyard! I've never seen so many kinds of mushrooms. It must be exceptionally wet this year.

 

I see this one every year. They grow huge.

 

Every year mushroom buyers show up about this time, set up a little tent in the parking lot of a grocery store, wait for mushroom hunters to bring what they found, and pay them. I have no idea how much. If I see a buyer I might take some samples and see what I have.

 

One year I went mushroom hunting with a friend who has some property out in the country nearby. Some of the mushrooms she knew and had names for, but most we just stared at dumbfounded. I checked out some books from the library but it was a bit overwhelming as there are thousands of species. I think it would be fun to be a mushroom expert. As it is, I know nothing and don't plan to taste-test any of them. I don't have a death wish.