DIY Ovary Removal - A Tutorial

Back in the day when I worked at the local DMV, I had a list of questions I'd have to ask when someone was getting or renewing a driver's license.

"Would you like to be an organ donor?" was among them.

One elderly lady responded - "Well, I really don't have the time today."

"We don't actually collect them today" was my response.

This morning when I awoke with ovaries the size of bowling balls, or so it felt, I thought of stopping by the DMV to donate them.  

This will be my last-ish post on menopause for at least a week - I promise.

Being the DIY'r that I am - I Googled 'home ovary removal' this morning, and to my surprise, I didn't find a single thing about it.

This could go viral.  I'm about to give you a tutorial on how to do it.  As with anything I've done up in here, I dive right in - learning as I go.  I would have never gotten bees or chickens if I knew everything.

Ignorance = bliss.

The first thing you are going to need to do is to stop at your local liquor store and stock up.  I suggest the hard stuff.  Menopause ain't for sissies so don't be bringing home wine coolers.  Puh-leeze.

I also suggest copious amounts of chocolate for after the home surgery, and perhaps a Tylenol or two - or Vicodin if you are lucky enough to have a few lying about.  It would also be advisable to scour your bathroom cabinets for a rogue antibiotic or two.  Keep a glass of ice water handy - you'll see why.

Collect your utensils.  I'm sure you may have what you need in your kitchen drawers already.  Ideally - grill tools would work the best since they are long - and well - I think the ovaries are really up there.  Perhaps I should Google some anatomy photos for reference.  

After you are comfortably inebriated, I suggest sterilizing your tools, and giving your hoo-ha a good going over with some rubbing alcohol.  Now - if you are an overachiever like I am, and you've just shaved in prep for this surgery - good luck with the alcohol.  Perhaps you've ingested enough alcohol that you won't feel it.

(Dear FlowerPatchFarmGirl's dad - I am sorry - you might want to skip today's blog - I'm beginning to think I should have told you that a while ago.)

Get comfortable.  Put on some Kenny G.  Light a few candles.  It's about to get real up in here.

You might want to put a few towels down to catch any mess.

I do believe that canning tongs could work well to hold the hoo-ha open long enough to perform the surgery.  Get creative!  You might want to see what your husband has in the garage as well.

Grilling tongs will come in handy here as you enter and explore.  I think it will be easy to find the suckers - you should know when you hit them.  I have a feeling it will smart.

With one deliberate, firm motion of twisting and pulling at the same time - yank that sucker out.  At this time you might be tempted to pass out - but try and resist that urge - this is where the ice water could come in handy - to give yourself a dousing - hold on to that ovary - you don't want it free floating about your abdomen.

With any luck - it's out.

Now - what to do with it?

"I told you I needed the SUPER absorbent Playtex UNSCENTED tampons!  What's with this Light Days baloney!  You never listen to me!!"

I don't suggest you compost it - it could attract unwanted varmits.  The last thing you want around your property is a menopausal raccoon.

There might be something creative on Pinterest that you could find to do with it, or in some cultures it could be considered a culinary delicacy - I'm planning on just flushing mine.  

So long sista!

I think I need to add a disclaimer here - I am in no way responsible for any botched home surgeries - accidental spleen removals, infections, loss of blood, or mental breakdowns associated with this procedure. As with any medical procedures performed at home, there are inherent risks that need to be considered before you inebriate yourself for this, or any other home procedure.

Embracing Thomas

I just had to blog.

Right. now.

The scenario:

I just took a hot soak in the bathtub with a mug of chamomile tea. 

Jax the cat got locked in the bathroom with me, and pulled at the door the whole time I was trying to relax.

It almost frustrated me.

 My hair is deep conditioning as I type.

All I'm wearing is a towel and an afghan.  

I'm up on the davenport in the living room, or front room - whichever you prefer - and my hair is dripping on my nekkid shoulders.

It's 6:19 in the pm on a Wednesday night.

You guys have given a gift to my soul with all of the comments and emails you have sent.  I'm in process of answering them.  Bless your hearts.  For real.

Truth is -  I'm OK.  I'm super hormonal.  I miss Aaron terribly.  I've had three periods in the last six weeks, my breasts are always hurting, and the hormonal headaches are ridiculous.

I've stocked up on feminine products, ergo ...my vagina having it's own drawer.

Pads, tampons, tinctures, powders and Pamprin.

One word of advice - do not buy off brand cheap tampons.

That is NOT where you want to cut corners in your budget my friends.

They hurt.

I'm a bit discombulated, I feel bloated and tired - unfocused and unenergized.

It's near 9am before I get my head screwed on straight anymore.

I have been on the fence for quite sometime about quitting blogging - to the point that it's been a joke with some of my friends.  I guess I just needed to make a decision, and then as soon as I did make the decision, I realized it was the wrong one.

Go figure.

I have decided to continue blogging - and I'm going to rename the blog 'The Bipolar Blogger'.

: -)

Bob Mackie is designing my gowns as I type this.

I have no grand illusions about blogging - I'm not trying to make a business out of it - or just use it to promote Etsy, or become the next Pioneer Woman, I just like to yak my thoughts out - it's rather selfish of me actually - cause it just helps me to think 'out loud' sorta kinda.

So here was my thoughts today.

I made a Pinterest board called 'Addicted to Downton Abbey'.

For those of you that aren't watchers - law girls - Netflix it up.

I'll try not to give too many spoilers, but oh didn't we love it when his black market rations turned out to be plaster dust?  Or when we thought that he in fact had lost Lord Grantham's dog.

This might get long - I suggest you pee and get a drink.  Or vise versa.

Thomas.   Let's talk about him.

He's a stinking scoundrel, isn't he?  You just love hating him - he's so sneaky and manipulative.

You can imagine him spanking puppies and drowning kittens.

But.

There's something about Thomas - especially this season, that is just flat out breaking my heart - and I'm beginning to embrace Thomas.

It doesn't hurt that he's a beautiful man out of character.

He reminds me of the three hooligans that tormented my mother in the summer of 1984.

Scenario:

The lower southeast side of Chicago.

A perfect postage stamp sized yard - tended by my fabulous mother - she worked hard in her polyester pants with the sewn in crease and the elastic waist - her tanned arms toiling in her cotton smocks, with a king-sized Kool cigarette perfectly balanced on her lips.

Her yard was her fifth child - her pride and joy.

Along came the hooligans that summer in 1984.

Three motherless rascals moved in next door - ages 7-10.

They peed on her flowers through the chain link fence.

They ripped the green beans right off the vines.

Shenanigans a plenty.

Malarkey galore.

They would taunt her, throw things in the yard - you get the picture.

You don't mess with my momma.

No amount of threatening worked.  The more I yelled, the worse they got.

I decided to love on them.  I took them to the zoo.  I talked to them all the time and bought them presents.

They turned out to be the sweetest little things, starving for love and affection, starving for a mom.

And so it is with this thought that I embrace poor Thomas.

He's needing some love, just like we all do.

Why is it so easy to be kind to others, and yet so hard on ourselves?

So tonight - I'm going to take it easy on myself.  I'm going to pajama up and curl up on the couch with endless cups of tea.  I'm going to rest and realize that I'm just not at my best right now - and that's OK.

This too shall pass...why not let it pass in peace and understanding, instead of beating myself up for not being full of energy and getting a million things done a day.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

Love yourself.

You're Killin' Me

Landsakes alive.

Law and mercy.

You guys are killin' me with the comments.

I started laughing today thinking I should just say my blog was hacked, or I needed a good ego stroking.

: -)

And then I started rrrrreeeaalllly missing you guys and feeling sad over stopping.

So this is what I've been thinking.

I've become boring.

I'm not funny anymore.

I have nothing to say.

Bleh.

Life is ever evolving.  No one is always funny, no one is always insightful, etc.  

I'm seriously going through a bad case of the empty nest - and I was/am concerned that I might end up spending way too much time online.  It concerned me, because I really don't want to do that - and yet - last week I had planned on completely redesigning the blog and blogging everyday.

Can you hear the pendulum swinging?

Am I nuts, or what?

I started feeling concerned that it wasn't real life - and yet Janie Fox, whom I met via the blog is up here on my couch.  That's pretty real.  I felt like I didn't spend enough time with my sisters and 'real' friends, but took the time to be here.

Get what I saying?

I'm sighing deeply over here - for real.

Janie Fox and I got the flipping mother lode at the thrift stores today and we are completely revamping the upstairs bedroom.  I felt sad that I couldn't share that with you.

Aaron called me from 'Veh-gus' and told me all about his haircut by 'Fern the Barber' - inspired by a skyline - and how he got to meet and  assist Robert Cromeans- and I thought - dang it - you guys would want to know.

So here I sit blogging again, eh?

So where are we?  Is Carol singing and tuggin' on her ear, or is she coming out in her fabulous Bob Mackie dress and starting the monologue?

I haven't a clue.

The Winter of my Disconnect

I've been feeling it coming for sometime.

The end of blogging.

I've mentioned it several times.

Now - it's time.

There is no particular rhyme or reason for it - it just feels like the right thing for me to do.

I'm filled with such emotions of gratitude, thankfulness and happiness.

I've met the most incredible people via this olde blog - and one of them just happens to be sitting here right next to me.

Please know how much I appreciate the friendship, care and support you've shown me over the years.

It is and will always be considered one of my life's greatest gifts.

Please know that you can email me anytime, and I will answer.

I've left Facebook, Twitter - and now blogging.  I'm still on Pinterest a couple of minutes a day, but I haven't a clue how to tell you to find me!

If there is anything I can leave you with - it would be to encourage you to:

follow your dreams

don't take no for an answer

realize that you are worth more than you could ever imagine

anything is possible

get out

see things

do things

life is beauty full.

Good for you Brownies?

Thank you all for your kind comments about my hair!

I didn't reply in all of the comments this time - I thought I would just thank you here.

I'm loving the stripe, and I want more - I don't care if I'm considered too old - Aaron told me he would put them in places that were 'age appropriate'.

Speaking of Aaron - he leaves for Las Vegas tomorrow.

I'm in denial.

I refuse to call him and ask him if he's packed enough underwear and the like.

I will not.

Nope.

Aaron told me the cut he gave me is considered the 'Heidi Klum bob' - but I have bangs with it - she does not.

She's such a beauty.

I watched the some of the Golden Globes on our new HD TV - it was our Christmas present to each other this year - we'd been without a TV for a few years - we still don't have cable - in fact, I need to do a TV post soon (and I know I still need to finish the AT post).

What has me shocked is how old everyone looks.  Is it the HD?  I mean - Kevin Costner looked quite old - even though I still consider him quite dapper.

Ways in which I know I'm getting older?

People use the phrase 'age appropriate' and my name in the same sentence.

I hear 'ma'am' much more than I care to.

I've been told I look great 'for my age'.
My vagina has its own drawer in the bathroom.

No matter how long I keep my battery powered exfoliater on my face - the wrinkles won't scrub off.

I say what I think.

I find 60 year old men attractive.

I think getting a good night's sleep is WAY more exciting than ringing in the New Year.

But this post isn't about getting old - it's about brownies.

I'm just now able to start playing around with recipes like this - I still have to be VERY careful not to eat them all - I have to make things like this on days that I know I have a strong resolve.

Last week when I made my uber healthy banana bread - I did not have the resolve - 

and I ate the whole loaf.

Not good.

Trust me on this recipe and just make it - do not turn your nose up - you will be ah-mazed at how good they are - and they are full of good for your brain fats, fiber, and antioxidants.

And get this - you don't bake them.

Mmmm...hmm.

If you don't have any cocoa powder in the house - I do suggest that you buy the raw - if however, you do have cocoa powder, I'd say just go ahead and use it.  That's what I did - and when I run out, I'm going to buy the raw from now on.

Here be the link:

http://www.oprah.com/food/Raw-Brownies-Recipe

Have a spectacular day!

I'm off to my cleaning jobs for the next couple of days - and then the fabulous Janie Fox is visiting for a few days.

Life don't get no better.

(unless you make these brownies)

The Big Brunette Reveal

Well?

Whatcha think?

I Instagramed it to hide my aging face.

I think I love it.

Do you see the magenta stripe on the right side?

I love that too.

I do believe the boy's got some serious skills.  I can only imagine once he gets a few years experience under his tool belt.

My favorite thing?

The magenta stripe that peeks out matches the new workout outfit I received for my birthday!

I seriously feel like a super hero - and in fact - I've been hankering to be a super hero for a while.

Can't talk long today - got a few friends coming by that want to talk to me about losing weight, restoring their health and changing their ways.

I'm making them my famous roasted veggies and chicken.

I have to stop cooking it so much - I may tire of it, and that would be a shame.

Let me know what you think of my hair!

Be nice.

: -)

Sacred Sounds

Good Sunday morning to you!

I'm tiptoeing around the house here as the boys are still sleeping.

I love saying that.

Glenco and Aaron.

The boys.

This photo has nothing to do with the post - it's just fantastic - and that's why it's here.

Aaron is on the couch - because it's a family tradition around here if you are feeling poorly - that's where you are.  The couch.  I guess it started with me as a child and fond memories of my mom doctoring me with 7-up and crackers with my bucket next to the couch.  Got a fever?  Get on the couch.  Feel nauseated? 

 Get up on the couch.

So there he lies.  I'm looking at him right now, all cuddled up.  The BoyChild is flat out exhausted.

 How is it humanly possible to have so much love for someone?  You know that child held my hand all the way home from Chicago yesterday?  

Yep...that's the kind of wonderful he is. 

Another completely unrelated, yet fantastic photo.

You never realize how noisy everything you do is, until you are trying to be quiet.  

The floors squeak.

The tearing open of the tea bag.

Pouring your tea.

Stirring your tea.

 Whilst I was trying to be in stealth mode doing all my morning rituals, I realized how sacred all of the sounds are to me.  The sounds of home.  Think about it - the sound of food sauteing, the sound of doing the dishes, the washer, the sounds of zippers clacking in the dryer.

To me, these are the sounds of comfort and safety.

The sounds of love.

Yesterday, we spent the day with friends at the Chicago Boat, RV and Outdoor Show.

I have to get Glenco out of the house.

He's got the SAD.

Seasonal Affect Disorder.

He gets it every year, and I do declare that this year seems to be the gloomiest December and January I can remember - so he's in rough shape.  Left to his own devices, he'd spend the weekend on the couch with the remote complaining about how he has no motivation or desire to do anything.  Luckily, he's married to a lunatic and I keep him going with malarkey and shenanigans.

Unless you are ready to barf or have a fever - you shan't lollygag on the couch!

The show was interesting, and I witnessed first hand how the other half apparently live.

The prices of the boats were ridickerous.

The RV's were fun - but I'd take my vintage camper, The Squirrel, over them any day.

I have to say, standing in one of the big fancy RV's that had a full sized stainless fridge, fireplace, washer and dryer and a price tag of $205,000 - I did decide right then and there that I could in fact live on the road and be a camp host for the rest of my life.  I'd tour the country from east to west, north and south.

I came down with a fever.  A bad case of the wander lust - right then and there.

I may need the couch.

After the show - we drove over to Aaron's dorm and picked him and his laundry up, headed back to Hoosierland where I promptly began roasting chicken and veggies.  I can't go a day without a roasted sweet potato.  That's just crazy talk.  Aaron declared his dinner 'perfection'. 

We watched Kathryn Heigl in 'One for the Money' and bedded down for the night.

Today, I'll make Aaron's favorite dinner - Barbecued Meatballs, Mashed Potatoes, Green Beans with Bacon, and a nice green salad.

Today, he'll make me a brunette.

Other than that - I'm going to enjoy this day of rest - and soak up all the goodness of my life, and give thanks for it.

If that weren't enough for one day - Downton Abbey comes on at 8pm CST.

I'm still on the fence about Bates - 

Enjoy your day, because this day is your life.

Confessions of a Bad Beekeeper

Today up here in NW Indiana we are enjoying a balmy day of over 50 degrees.

I thought this would be a good chance to check on the bees - and see if I saw any signs of

 life about the hives.

So - I went a knockin'.  On the hives that is.  

The last time I did this tom foolery in January, I got stung in the neck.

I only saw three sluggish bees flitting about.  It has me worried.  I think it's just too damp and dreary for them to venture out.  That or their all dead.  I'm going with my first theory.

I've always lived life with a wide-eyed wonder - a devil may care attitude - and the thought that if anything was worth doing, that it was worth doing poorly in the beginning.

Let's talk about beekeeping.

How in the Sam hill I ever got interested in beekeeping - I don't know.  I didn't even like honey that much.  I'd never been exposed to anyone that kept bees - I'd never actually seen a honey bee - but only bumblebees, wasps, and hornets - which everyone calls bees.

Drives.me.nuts.

24 years ago when we moved into this old farmhouse - I visited the library.

I brought home a slew of books - all about living self sufficiently on a few acres.

I was hooked.

I wanted to slaughter hogs and spin wool by kerosene lamp - I wanted to raise chickens and double dig garden beds.

Then I came across a beekeeping book.

I could be a bee wrangler!

The thought of somehow controlling hundreds of thousands of live, stinging insects - well, let's just say - I found it downright intriguing.  Plus, the added benefit it would add to the garden.

Let's be real here.

I'm a poser.  Glenco tells me this all the time.  I'm a poser, and I'm all about the gear.  Beekeeping has gear.  I loved it.  I loved the idea of seeing lovely boxes of bees interspersed around my perennials - I didn't necessarily want to do all the work involved with beekeeping - I just wanted to look like I did it.

How could you not want this?

Well, 22 years later - I finally got around to wrangling those bees.

I ran into a guy at a garden center who said he was on his way to a beekeeper's meeting and he invited me to tag along.  I didn't tag along - but I did take all the information.

Well why not.  Now or never.  Put your money where your mouth is.

And money there is - it's a bit costly to get started.  The hives average $120 each, the bees - a 3lb starter package is $75 (or was when I got them), then you have your bee suit, your smoker and hive tool.

One week later I was working a bee hive in my bare hands and shaking like a...well I don't know what I was shaking like - but use your imagination.

As most things go in life, at least in my life - the reality of it is quite different than the picture I had in my mind.  I am still holding on to this fantasy picture and plan on re-arranging my beehives, and painting them a vivid violet color and painting 'bee happy', 'bee kind', etc. on them - and surrounding them with a bee friendly perennial garden.  Oh. yes. I. am.

Anyone familiar with the housing projects in Chicago - called Cabrini Green?

It's been torn down - here is a photo when it was still around.

Well...I'd like to introduce to you what I call 'Cabeeni Green'.

These are my ghetto hives.

Mismatched, duct taped, ill fitting lids, one's even sitting on a flipping lawn chair!

I'm embarrassed to be posting this up on the Interweb.

I am the clutziest beekeeper in the history of beekeeping. 

It's hot, heavy work y'all.

Sweat is stinging your eyes, and you can't wipe it cause you have a huge veil on your head.

Imagine carrying an oozing 60lb box of bees and honey, blinded from stinging sweat in your eyes, using only your fingertips.

I've stumbled and fallen with boxes of bee frames, still with bees in them.

I've been stung.

Please don't complain about the price of raw, local honey ever again.

Thank you.

You then get to bring that hot mess up into your kitchen and start to extract it and bottle it up.

By the time you are done - the cat is covered in it - it's under your stove, on the light fixtures and on every single surface in your kitchen.

And there's always a rogue bee in the house - always.

But you know what?

It's all worth it when you taste that incredible nectar!  Especially when it's still warm from the sun.

I had never tasted real honey before - it's intoxicating!

There's something about beekeeping - you don't keep them - they keep you.

I find myself completely relaxed and in such a happy state of mind when I'm out in the hives.

When you first pop the lid off - and hear the happy hum of the bees - you smell the beeswax and honey - it's hypnotizing.  They are truly amazing, fascinating little creatures.

And then they get mad and sting you.

The end.

:-)

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Hey - I have answered questions and comments on my last post - let's see how this goes.  I know you actually have to come back to read them - bummer, huh?

Oh - and you all should have gotten your Caper Bags (Wendi P - I haven't got your email address!  I still have your bag sitting here - Hedy - I haven't gotten your check yet)

Aaron leaves a week from today to Vegas.

Gracious.

I'm a Lunatic

It's the only explanation.

Who else answers the door in her bra?

Let me explain.

Remember the food I was giving away on Craig's List?

The pile grew.

Tuesday AM the gal was supposed to come by and pick up the food bags I had for her.  I was up doing house chores, and blow drying my hair to the best of my abilities.

I'm woefully inept at fixing my hair.

I wouldn't have even bothered fixing my hair - but an old friend that I've known since grammar school and haven't seen in a coon's age was coming by and we were to thrift the day away.

I had piles.

Piles of food for the Craig's List gal - a pile of stuff to take to donate to the thrift store - or more accurately to exchange at the thrift store.

The spoils of my thrifting - in my defense - most of this will be resold on eBay.  The baskets I use to make gift baskets for friends - I mean - I paid like .50 for handmade baskets!!

Whilst I was brushing my teeth, I turned the tube over and looked at the ingredients.

I quickly spit it all out and then in a moment of what we can only call sheer inspiration, I decided to purge the house of all chemical laden products.  I scoured the cupboards and had bags of hand soap, shower gel, toothpaste, deodorant, cleaning supplies, etc.

Problem was - I was in my bra, with wet hair, and my friend was due in 10 minutes.

Did I care what we'd do without any of these necessary toiletries in the house?  Did I care that Glenco would be looking for his tooth washing paste that very evening?

Nope.

Off it went to the unsuspecting Craig's List lady!

When I got home from my thrifting excursion, and what an excursion it was - I looked up some natural tooth washing powder recipes.  Suffice it to say - they are different.  I'll be a sharin' them.

I haven't been able to sleep very well the last few nights - I'm just too danged excited.

Life is just too much fun - and full of so much possibility.

I'm over the moon with the thoughts of the garden this year - as I am every January when the ground is frozen solid, and there is no blazing sun on my back, or squash beetles destroying my zucchini, or heavy clay soil that needs amending.  It's so easy to be excited in January.  Let's touch base on this subject in July again, shall we?

There shall be nearly 100 chickens up in this yard this year if there is one.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

I can smell the bees - I can just smell them and hear them!

I do hope they are all still alive.  I never did finish all 842,294 sweaters that were needed to keep them warm this year.

Take all the above excitement and couple it with fabric and sewing notions - new recipes and Aaron coming home this weekend - it's a wonder I'm getting any sleep at all!

This doesn't help one single bit!!!


Must.Learn.To.Needlefelt.

I must take my leave of you now - it's off to work for me - did you guys know that I clean houses two days a week?  I didn't know if you knew.....

OH!  I'm going to try a new thing - answering your comments and questions in the comment section - so many of you ask questions, and leave awesome comments, but there is no email address associated with you - so I am unable to respond.

Have a spectacular day!
Plan a garden!
Read a book!
Exercise!