Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: anxiety, apocalypse, comedy, humor, plague, survivor, UFOs
These days there is a lot of fear mongering, talk of anarchy and threats of various apocalypse scenarios. If you believe the social media “preppers,” the apocalypse is coming in the form of World War Three, a plague, or UFOs.
Or maybe the world is eventually going to be underwater.
Well, if any of those scenarios are on the horizon, I can rest easy because I’m not a survivor. Nor do I want to be.
I’ve seen enough Thunderdome movies to know that I wouldn’t make it past the first week.
Here are things I do NOT bring to the table:
Weapons or the skills to use them. I’m pretty sure my throwing axes will only protect me if my attacker is 10 feet away and standing still.
Medical knowledge or herb lore. Despite the fact that my family jokingly calls me “Dr. Libby,” I’m really just a fast Googler. As for the herb lore, if it’s a nuclear attack, you can’t eat what would be left. If we’re floating around an endless ocean because of climate change, seaweed will only do you so much good. That’s pretty much the extent of my ocean flora knowledge.
Mechanical ability. I can barely work a screwdriver, and IKEA instructions make me break out in hives. So no, I won’t be the person who’s fixing machines, jumping car batteries or siphoning gas to save the day.
Procreation. My body is no longer equipped to produce offspring, much less offspring that would adapt to a post-apocalyptic new world. I’m pretty much a post-apocalyptic recessive gene.
Here’s what I DO bring to the apocalypse:
Humor. If you can’t laugh at the situation, you’ll cry. So maybe I can keep some people from falling apart by making snarky observations. I’ll eventually become a court jester.
Documentation. I can write down what happened and how people survived. I’m told I’m good with dialogue when I write fiction. I will explain the weird lines on our (underwater) roads and strange phrases future archeologists uncover, like “Let’s Go Brandon” and “what’s your Roman Empire.”
Medical Assistant (certain conditions only). When it comes to radiation poisoning, I’m your girl. People throwing up doesn’t bother me at all. But, if there’s an attack with a respiratory component, I’m out. Snot makes me dry heave.
Medicinal Alcohol. My house could be a temporary source of medicinal antiseptic and anesthesia, given our current supply of bourbon. Until those supplies run out, we can all figure out how to make moonshine from ash, instead of actual crops.
Realistically, by the time the apocalypse happens, us non-survivors will probably already be assigned red Star Trek security shirts so we’ll be easy to identify. That way, others won’t waste time trying to save us when they could be building a desalinization machine out of seashells.
So if you’re a McGyver, a Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs, or someone who knows how to operate multiple vehicles, more power to you. You go all Thunderdome out there and keep the human race going. I’ll see you on the other side, wearing my shiny red sweater.
Filed under: Posts
This is a re-post of a blog I did over 10 years ago – and it’s still valid today. Enjoy!
Like many women, I have toyed with the idea of “getting some work done.” There are so many options available! You can inject things into your face to get rid of the wrinkles. You can make your lips fatter, your bottom rounder and your thighs skinnier. You can even take fat from one part of your body and put it somewhere else. But none of those things has ever really appealed to me. I have found a much cheaper way to make myself feel better about the toll time has taken on my face and body.
I heard a performance by Canadian poet Shane Koyczan, about bullying (you can watch it by following the link at the end of the post.) There were many phrases and ideas of his that resonated with me, but the one I want to share is…
“If you can’t find something beautiful about yourself, get a better mirror.”
So I did.
My new mirror isn’t anything special. I got it at the Dollar Store for, well, a dollar. It has a white plastic rim, and for the moment, doesn’t have any water or toothpaste splotches. The glass doesn’t really magnify anything, but it did show me some things in a much different light.
The crow’s feet around my eyes come from years of squinting at diamonds on turquoise seas and Virginia mountain sunrises, and from searching for the Daughters #1 & #2 as they shot a goal or cantered over a jump.
The bump on my nose that makes my glasses lopsided is a reminder of my love of sports, although playing soccer might not have been one of my better choices (I broke my nose by kicking the ball into my own face. Try it at home—I dare you). Running, jumping, kicking and throwing—what a way to celebrate the body I was given!
The wrinkles on my forehead are the marks of a mother who worries about her family—are they doing okay in school? Will we have enough money for college? Do I still make Hubby happy? It is a miracle to have those things to worry about. Why would I erase them?
Even the wrinkles on my upper lip are testimony to the years of clamping my mouth shut in twenty years of marriage. I finally learned that not every opinion needs to be voiced—even though mine is usually better.
The freckles and age spots on my hands come from hours of driving my children to and from school as we talked about our day, from driving across country with Hubby, and riding horses as often as I could. Sure, I could get them lasered off, but why? I don’t want to look like I never had any adventures.
My hips and stomach are no longer flat or small. They shifted and made room for two daughters. No, I don’t have the body of a twenty-year-old anymore—I have the body of a mother, of someone who has survived my babies’ colic, teething, first steps, tantrums, first day of school, and first dates.
None of this is to say I’ve totally accepted this body I’m living in. I still highlight my hair every two months to cover up the gray, and I struggle to fit into jeans that I probably shouldn’t. But when the mirror on the wall in my bathroom isn’t making me happy, I try to remember to get the other one out, the one that says “You’re beautiful because of those lines, and wrinkles and sagging parts. They are the result of living your life, of all the things that have made you who you are.”
The erosion of the walls of the Colorado River could have been viewed as a tragic invasion of pristine countryside—instead, we now see the Grand Canyon as a wonder of the world. Why can’t our bodies be the same?
Watch Shane’s performance here:
https://youtu.be/sa1iS1MqUy4?feature=shared
Filed under: Country Living, mental health, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: adulthood, animals, anxiety, Birds, cows, de-stress, family, health, humor, mental health, mindfulness, self-care, stress relief, videos
I know different people have different ways that they relax. My family, except for me, finds puzzling a fun, relaxing thing to do. Me? Not so much. I get frustrated and annoyed, partly because I don’t get instant gratification, but also because I’m competitive and it takes too long to get a win.
Wait – competitive…with puzzling? How is that possible?
Well, in our family, SOME people give each completed piece three annoying taps for completion emphasis. Dude, I saw it – no need to gloat-tap. Then there’s the secret and not-so-secret tally that they keep in their head…until they don’t.
So yes, puzzling can be competitive in our house, and it’s not relaxing.
But what I do find disturbingly relaxing is watching Nate the Hoof Guy on social media as he cleans, files, and repairs nasty cow hoof after nasty cow hoof.
It’s amazing.
At first, I thought I liked them because I love horses, and I also like watching farriers work at our barn – but it’s more than that.
Farriers of all kinds every day do back-breaking, precise work that requires a high level of knowledge, skill, experience and patience. What’s amazing is how much videos of what they do satisfy my need for the cleaning, leveling and instant gratification that comes from hoof cleaning. I think it’s a passive way for me to feel like there is control in a world where things often feel so out of control.
Yep, I could watch him sand the hooves, then scrape away layer by layer until the problem is found. Even the spraying away of all the dirt and manure and other barn funk is satisfying. And if he gets to the layer where an infection or abscess breaks through?
That is THE BEST.
And it’s not just horse people who watch these videos. I’ve had so many people admit that they also secretly watch them and find them satisfying. I guess it’s something along the lines of Dr. Pimple Popper. However, that show just grosses me out. Human fluids are just nasty.
Would it be healthier for me to just clean my own space better? Or spend as much time on my skin care routine as I do watching Nate care for those cow hooves? Probably. But if this is what I find relaxing at the end of the evening and it helps me wind down enough to read the same three sentences of my book before I fall asleep, well, I’m going to keep on watching.
Another soothing video to watch is the 3-hour video of birds at a feeder in the woods.
These were originally made for cats to watch, and that’s how I got started. Our elderly cat Izzy was sick before she passed away and became very needy. So, I set up my old laptop next to my work laptop and watched that video for hours at a time. She loved it – and so did I. Even though we live in the woods and I see virtually the same thing from my window, something about that video was incredibly soothing. For a few weeks after Izzy died, I still played the video to relax.
So, find what you need – it may not be videos, or reading – it may be music, or stretching or twirling your hair while staring into space. But in a world as crazy as ours is right now, I think it’s okay to find your stress relievers where you can.
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: 2025, adulthood, anxiety, depression, goals, humor, life, mental health, new year, personal growth, positive, resolutions
Usually at this time of year I post something about New Year resolutions and re-post a previous blog about body image. And yes, one of my resolutions is to get back to writing this blog. (I’ll still repost the body image blog, because I think it’s valid.) But, this year I really want to remind everybody to take a second and look back over the last few months, or year, or even five years, and see how far you’ve come. For some of you, that may mean taking off your readers for a few minutes to see farther back than yesterday. I’ll wait while you tap the top of your head, trying to remember if you actually have them on or not.
You do, because otherwise you wouldn’t be able to read this.
Ready? Ok.
Anyway…New Year resolutions are all about becoming a better person, or maybe just being less of a dick. Side note – one of my favorite gifts this year is this dish towel:
So that’s where my expectations are for people these days.
However, I think that before you make unrealistic resolutions for 2025, you should take a look at the positive changes that have happened in your life over the last year. Sometimes they are huge, like getting a new job, losing a bunch of weight or cutting someone toxic out of your life. Sometimes they may be as small as learning a new skill at work, like the fact that not every email deserves a response, or making it through an entire movie without also playing a game on your phone or scrolling through social media.
And, sometimes things that seem small are in fact HUGE – like going through a dark time and just plodding your way through, one day after another, until things get just a little bit better.
Whatever you’ve accomplished, take a second to acknowledge that you have had some triumphs. If it’s not 9:00am, maybe even have a glass of champagne to celebrate – unless you’re doing the Dry January thing (which I am). In that case you can always choose to substitute alcohol with a giant box of Cheese-Itz or other favorite snack food (which I do on the regular now). I mean Jesus, give yourself SOME kind of reward. You say you’re not or can’t afford to be food/drink motivated? Then reward yourself with something you like to do. If I’m not eating Rice Krispy treats or cheese in any form, my reward is to read fairy smut.
Don’t judge.
Some of you like biographies about celebrities with drug and sex addictions, real-life thrillers with some truly screwed up characters, and self-help books that are just cringey. I was in the airport for a significant amount of time this weekend and I saw what y’all are reading. At least fairies are fake.
So before you get that planner you’ll never fill out, join that gym you’ll quit in two months or start on ruin your knees by running 3 miles a day when you’ve been a couch potato for the last year, remember that you accomplished some stuff this year. It’s not anybody else’s business what that was – they don’t know your experiences, struggles or inner goals that you set for yourself. Most likely they wouldn’t understand or appreciate it. But you do – so go get that cheese or champagne or book that you don’t want anyone to know that you read over and over again (I see you, ACOTAR people). You deserve a little celebration as well as a little improvement.
Filed under: Exercise, Food/Drink, Middle Age, Posts | Tags: adulthood, health, humor, mental health, Middle-Age, new year
New year, new me…blah, blah, blah. I don’t like resolutions because I never stick to them. Last year’s resolutions included:
- Drinking less
- Eating healthier
- Losing 10 pounds
- Stretching
- Start jumping in my horseback riding lessons.
Let’s see…in 2023 here’s how that went:
- I honed my bourbon taste buds, took a trip to Ireland and Scotland and discovered after two weeks of tastings and more liver abuse that I still prefer bourbon
- My eating habits leaned farther to the Oreo and pizza side than veggies and protein; therefore I…
- Gained 10 pounds and went up a size – I am now embracing clothes that actually fit instead of trying to squeeze into jeans like a sausage
- I took a stretching class and managed to irritate already gimpy shoulders because…wait for it…I’m weirdly competitive at stretching – against myself
- I had a couple of concussions from falling off horses – not even jumping.
So, screw the resolutions. But I did come across a couple of ideas that might make more sense.
First, someone asked, “Are you acting like summer in winter?” Meaning, why are you working at life with the same energy in winter that you do in the summer? Traditionally, animals and humans in the age of foraging and farming used winter as a time for resting and saving energy – through hibernation, fixing equipment, making and mending clothes, etc. These days it’s often the only quiet time we get, except for that “retreat” somewhere in a mountain setting which costs and arm and a leg, and half your PTO. Winter is a natural time for a lot of us to reflect, to eat hot, nourishing meals that warm our body and soul, and figure our shit out. So, unless you’re an avid winter person who relishes outdoor cold-weather activities, slow your roll and stop acting like its summer. Sometimes having no agenda is an agenda.
The other thing I thought was a good idea was to change the inner voice that groans at 6:00am, “Fuuuuuck, I have to go to the gym,” to “Fuuuuuck, I get to go to the gym because I can afford it and all of my limbs and faculties work well enough to let me get stronger.” Changing from “I have to” to “I get to” may sound like a bunch of new-age think strategy, but it really does help. However, I swear if any of you hear me say anything about a person’s “journey” you get to punch me in the face.
Subourbon Mom 