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: 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.
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor | Tags: adulting, cancer, cologuard, health, humor, Middle-Age, New Year's
I’m not a big fan of New Year’s resolutions, mostly because I don’t stick to them. Now that I’m in my 50’s, there are a couple of things that probably should go on the resolutions list:
- Stop cussing so much, even though social media says you’re smarter if you do
- Try Dry January
- Learn how to do the backhanded Southern compliment thing (“You are so brave to stop drinking – people won’t recognize you!”)
- Say no to the good so you can say yes to the great!
- Do the Colonoscopy Thing*
When I had my latest physical in December, my doctor and I agreed that I’m a good candidate for ColoGuard…you know, the commercial you see on the TV where they deliver the box to your door, you poop in it and send it back. I’m a 70-percenter, meaning there are a lot of things that are “good enough” for me. I’ve accepted it, my family and friends have accepted it. So, being a 70-percenter, doing the ColoGuard screening makes sense – why go 100% with a free, covered-by-insurance colonoscopy when you can take the also-free shortcut, and then possibly pay for the full colonoscopy if the results come back positive?
Anyway, I was excited to not be put under and go through the prep of a colonoscopy. Pooping in a box sounded way easier.
(WARNING! This is somewhat descriptive, so don’t read on if you’re not into talking about stuff like this.)
Turns out, there’s a little more to it than that.
You don’t just poop in a box, seal it up and mail it. There’s a wand you have to swoosh around in your poop and stick in a tube like a Covid test, and preservative to pour into the poop container. It’s a pretty gross process and takes a little locked-door private time in the bathroom if you ever want to have sex again, or if you have children who barge into the bathroom with you and you don’t want to scar them for life.
The instructions are lengthy and explicit…as in an entire booklet. Then there’s a separate booklet for how to pack it up and mail it. There are even diagrams showing people sitting on the toilet doing their thing, and step-by-step instructions on how to untwist the top of the poop container, in case you’ve never opened anything in your life.
Instructions aside, there are also several warnings throughout the booklet telling you not to drink the preservative. Several warnings…as if this has been a large problem in the past and now, they have to spell it out for folks. As in…Don’t drink the bottle of stuff that was made to keep your poop fresh. Who is doing that? You are literally in a bathroom next to a sink with water, but no…some people are reaching for the sketchy bottle from the poop company and drinking that instead.
They also tell you not to fill the poop catcher up any higher than the preservative will cover.
I actually paused when I read that and thought, Let me get this straight. You’re supposed to poop into a container that is under you, where you can’t see it, and try to judge how much is too much? I’m willing to bet there’s a lot of containers shipping with a little bit of extra baggage. I’ve got a pretty strong stomach, but unless they give me a spoon and a gas mask, I’m not measuring it out like I’m baking poop cookies.
Then there are the warnings not to get any urine in with the poop.
So they’re telling 50-year-old women not to accidentally pee on something? While sitting on the toilet? Have they met any 50-year-old women? We can’t do anything without accidentally peeing. So, yeah…good luck ladies.
Long story short, I got it all accomplished and took my very identifiable box to the local UPS store, who I use for all my shipping needs. They know me. To their credit they didn’t even flinch as they gave me the tracking receipt (which I promptly lost). Oh, and word to the wise: keep your tracking receipt. Those boxes do occasionally go astray, as I learned from a friend. Apparently, her box never reached its destination and is still traveling. Now she has to do it all again.
I never received confirmation that my sample was received, and since I lost the tracking receipt I had no way of knowing if there was a box of my leftovers floating around some warehouse or lying on the side of the road. Thankfully, a couple of days ago I received a text with my results: all negative.
In the end, it was a weird, kind of gross experience, but thank goodness for the advances of science that make this process possible, and for the discoveries that lead to early detection.
So here’s my PSA – do whatever test is right for you, check your insurance policies, and for God’s, sake don’t drink the preservative!
*It is extremely important that you get tested. While I chose ColoGuard, it is not for everyone. Ask your doctor what test is best for you and get it done!
Filed under: Food/Drink, Middle Age | Tags: adulthood, entertainment, health, humor, music, self-care, travel
Last weekend I was lucky enough to go see one of my favorite bands, Carbon Leaf. Not only are they talented musicians and great performers, they also went to college with Hubby and I. So, shout out to Carbon Leaf for still living the dream, even though we have kids, wear readers and pay mortgages.
When the time came to get ready, I was paralyzed with uncertainty. What does one wear to a concert when you’re 50, and the band is 50, and its 35 degrees outside but you know its going to be 80 inside? I texted my helpful friends and these are the answers I got:
- Slippers
- Leg warmers
- A banana clip
- Esprit or Benneton sweater
But the most helpful was “Jeans, boots, cute long-sleeved shirt over tank top with a jacket you don’t care gets beer spilled on it so you can tie it around your waist when you have a hot flash.”
So there’s that. Now I have to factor hot flashes into my wardrobe choices as well.
In the past, we would have forgone food and just pre-gamed at somebody’s house. That usually ended with someone holding someone else’s hair and running eye makeup. As grown-ups, after a dinner and a couple of bourbons later we arrived at the concert walking straight and smelling like fried food.
Once inside, I was relieved to see we were age appropriate. See, the thing about being 50 and going to bands and other places is we either tend to be the creepy old people who get side-eyes from the youngsters, or we’re the youngest by 20 years getting side-eyes from the Q-tips. This time, there were two generations present – us, and our children. Carbon Leaf plays music both sets can enjoy. In fact, the younger crowd knew more of the sings than we did.
So, we danced and sang along, and I was secretly smug that I was getting my steps in, when I noticed something glinting on the floor. I picked it up – it was a pair of readers.
Omg. That’s who I am now.
I used to find money on the floor at concerts, or maybe even a tiny bag of weed. Now it’s readers, and the woman in front of me was just as grateful I found those as she would have been back in the day if I’d picked up her bag of weed.
When the encore was over, my jeans were covered in spilt beer and bourbon, and I had in fact stripped off my jacket because of a hot flash or two. We headed out to get our requisite CD (yes, we still listen to them) and t-shirts to support the band. Unfortunately, all I was concerned about when I selected my t-shirt was that it was soft, gray and had the band’s name on it. I didn’t really pay attention to the actual design.
Once you see it, you can’t unsee it. If you don’t see it, you are a better person than me.
Because I am super immature and have a 12-year-old sense of humor, this will forever be a sleep shirt, not for public.
The bottom line is, going to that concert reminded me of how much we need connection to our friends, our past, and our sense of fun and adventure. Stomping my feet not only got my steps in, it also reminded me of how much I love live music and, like the band members who are still living the dream, sometimes you just have “live a life less ordinary.”
Enjoy some Carbon Leaf – The War Was In Color (possibly their best song):
And “Life Less Ordinary”
Filed under: Misc. Humor, shopping | Tags: advertising, anxiety, commercials, doctors, health, medicine
We’ve all heard about how big data algorithms use everything you do to determine what ads you’ll see, from the kind of toothpaste you use to the kind of toothpaste your friends use. The purpose is to drive how you shop, travel and communicate. And yes, I turned off the tracker stuff on my phone.
So, if big data can target so specifically, can someone please explain to me why I have to sit through so many commercials for prescription drugs that don’t apply to me? How have mass communications platforms not embraced these algorithms? I don’t have psoriasis, I don’t have diabetes type 1 or 2, or any kind of cancer (knock on wood).
But here are my real issues with these commercials:
First, they’re depressing and anxiety-inducing, reminding me of all the shitty diseases that I could get, while also preparing me for an amazing list of side effects that I could get from taking these drugs.
Second, these are PRESCRIPTION drugs – who is the target audience? If it is consumers so they can go to their doctor and say, “Hey, ugh, I was watching football last night and saw a commercial for Fuckitol – should I be taking that?” Um…if doctors didn’t originally prescribe these meds, but then are prescribing them because their patients are asking for them, based on a commercial they saw, that is a very large ethical problem. Patients are now marketing to doctors on behalf of the drug industry.
Also, if I was a doctor and doctors are in fact the target audience, I’d be pissed, seeing that stuff on my TV at night. There’s nothing I would want less than to come home from treating people and then be bombarded by commercials telling my patients to ask me about a drug I didn’t prescribe for them on purpose because it isn’t the right fit.
Third, these commercials contain a lot of Doctor-Speak and acronyms like “if your PGFD546 Cells are less than 40,” and other phrases that don’t mean anything to me because I haven’t recently been to an oncologist for that very specific, rare throat cancer they’re talking about. I suppose if you are the target audience you know what these mean, but for the rest of us it’s like being left out of a conversation, and now we have to go back to WebMD to do some research and lose an hour that we’ll never get back.
And finally, who was dumb enough to take a prescription drug they know they are allergic to, so these commercials have to say OUT LOUD, “Do not take Fuckitol if you are allergic to Fuckitol or its ingredients?” These people are the reason we need to stop labeling paint cans with “Do Not Eat.”
Now my fingers are tired, I’m anxious and annoyed. I’m think I’m going to ask my doctor for that Fuckitol prescription I just saw.
Subourbon Mom 