Ta-kill-ya

Most people don't believe me when I say this, but... for some reason I can drink a large quantity of tequila without getting drunk. I know, you will say, you just think you're not drunk! But since I was a young woman I can drink way more tequila, if I sip it like a cocktail, all by itself/not mixed with anything sugary, than any other drink. Wine makes me very light-headed after only two glasses, especially at this altitude. Same with an Old Fashioned or any other mixed drink. (I rarely drink anything alcohol any more.) But tequila just doesn't have the same effect. I had a "flight" of three different tequilas tonight with dinner and a shot before, and I feel the same way as if I had one glass of wine. Relaxed, but not really tipsy. (I was shocked at the many, many different tequilas. Some with a "salt" flavor and citrus, some with vanilla, some that were $23 per shot). I passed on the last one.

Any one else out there that loves their tequila, like wine drinkers love their wine? 

Glam-mas

This article caught my attention because the topic has come up more than once lately. There seems to be two camps when it comes to grandparenting. Those that want to be fully involved in their grandchildren's lives, and those that only want occasional interaction. I'm not going to attempt to sway one way or the other. I do know that families that share a certain amount of childcare tend to feel less stress. I can remember when my children were young not having anyone to share the load very often. My mother died when I was young, my father not long after the birth of my second child. My in-laws were not the type to want the children for anything other than observing, nothing hands-on. So from a personal point of view, I know how hard it is when you do not have grandparents that want to be with their grandchildren.

My daughter e-mailed me yesterday to ask about a certain week in June. I knew it was not probably something that involved fun with me. No, it was as expected, would we be available to watch our grandson so they could have a get-a-way. Of course, I said yes. One caveat - we wanted him here in our home, not in theirs. That is for two reasons. One, I want him comfortable in our home, since we live so far away. And two, he needs a vacation, too! Children get tired of looking at the same things, playing with the same toys, and need stimulus. My feeling is that we can do things with him here that involve the beach, mountains, and walks in the woods. Since he doesn't sleep in his crib, he can just sleep with us. (Yes, I know, he should sleep in his crib, but since I never was very good at getting my children to do that, I will not lecture.)  In other words, we want hands-on time with him. I guess we're not Glam-mas, or Glam-pas.  What about you? Do you have grandchildren? Which camp are you in?

SNOW+TAHOE = SKIING!

Some fugue!

How does a young, 23-year-old girl, go out for a jog and end up, three weeks later, being pulled from the water by a Staten Island ferry Captain? And she just remembers going out for the jog. What in the world could have happened to make her mind decide to dump her identity, and go for a little walkabout? 

Dissociative Fugue, not to be confused with amnesia, is a rare, usually short-lived, complex neurological process whereby a person loses all personal identity, memories, and any other personal identifying characteristics of individuality. They often just take off, taking on whole new identities and jobs. They have been known to travel over many miles, countries, even continents. This condition is usually precipitated by something stressful, that is forgotten while in the fugue state, and often never remembered. It is felt the mind creates a defensive personality. 

So what happened to that young girl?

People in this state often show significant distress or impairment, yet she is seen on a security camera logging onto a computer, checking her e-mail, speaking with a male student of Pace University, where she was studying for her masters degree. She'd been all over the news, yet was standing there in shorts and sports bra, just as she was reported to have been wearing when she disappeared. This was weeks later. She said, when asked by the fellow student, that she was not the missing girl...

This type of fugue was made famous by Jason Bourne, of the Bourne Trilogy, written by Robert Ludlum. But is is most often found in war veterans that have experienced trauma. It is considered psychogenic because it involves psychological factors that impinge on the neurological bases of memory retrieval, formed in the hippocampus. The memory loss is reversible, as viewed by her complete surprise in the hospital when her friends and family seemed so excited to see her. It was unclear when, exactly, she retrieved her memory, but she recognized friends and family while there. This type of amnesia is usually undiagnosed until the person recalls their real identity. Until then they just wander about, completely capable of remembering how to do routine tasks, just nothing to do with who they are. What remains a mystery is how she was able to maneuver in a city, (New York), that is not easy when one is in total control. She had no money, wallet, cell-phone, ID, nothing. Yet she ate, slept, walked until the giant blister she had either pushed her to take off her shoes, or, even stranger, to enter the water from a pier, in the night, and swim for hours to a small reef with a lighthouse. It is then believed she spent the day on the rocks around the lighthouse, then entered the water again around 11:00 a.m. the following day. Can you imagine? Entering the water at night? Black, inky, dirty, freezing water, all alone?

When they found her she was face-down in the water, and only showed any sign of life when they lifted her out. She was a mile southwest from the southern tip of Manhattan. A mile from shore, three weeks after disappearing, wearing the shorts and sports bra she wore to go out for a jog! 

Thank You

Thanks to all of you that left stew tips! I will be incorporating them over the next few weeks and will then post my "Ultimate Stew" recipe for all of you to try, change, and (maybe) improve. 

The Ultimate ... Stew!

I am in the process of perfecting my stew. I have been working on it all winter and think I am almost ready to share my recipe. But, I wonder, do any of you have anything that is your secret ingredient that makes your stew special, that you would like to share? I'm happy to give full credit when I publish the recipe. In the meantime, the house smells great

A ghost story?

After reading Willow's latest post, I had to tell this story.

When my daughter was in high school she met a boy who was one year older. He was in one of her classes and I met him on a field trip to SF for their class. From the very beginning there was something drawing me to this kid. He was just special, that's the only way I can describe it. And it wasn't just the way he looked at my daughter. (Which was with respect, I might add - something not all adolescents use when looking at girls.) Anyway, she had another boyfriend and, while she really liked this boy, didn't break up with the boy she had been going with. Fast forward a year:

It's a normal day, both girls are at school. I hear my daughter's phone ringing in her room. I have this unbelievable urge to answer that phone. It made me anxious when it rings again. It was so weird. I wasn't in the habit of worrying about who was calling my teenage daughter. I go upstairs and listen to the message. It is this boy, he says to call him back. My daughter gets home and I am "bugging" her to call him back! She says no, she'll talk to him later. He was going to baseball practice and she wanted to go work out at our gym. (What I didn't know was he and she had been e-mailing each other and he was trying to convince her to be "with him". And she still hadn't made up her mind.) Now, let me assure you, I wasn't in the habit of pushing my teenager on to boys! Quite the opposite - I tried to watch her and her boyfriend like a hawk. But there was something different about this kid...

My daughter and her father come out of the gym, and there is a terrible accident on the corner. She worries it could be her boyfriend that lives up that way.

She gets home and tries to return the call to the boy. His grandmother doesn't know were he is, but he is supposed to be home. I think she tries again later and no answer. Can you see where this is going? Yep, it was the accident on the corner. He never made it home from baseball practice.

My daughter's boyfriend later told me that he overheard this boy telling another boy that day, that he was going to call my daughter and convince her to break up with him. He heard this at baseball practice. (Both boys were on the same team.)

I'm not going to go into the unbelievable pain and anguish our family, daughter, his family, the whole school went through. The story here is the aftermath. My daughter is not sleeping well, she says she keeps seeing this face (unrecognizable) hovering close to her face in the night. She's terrified. In the meantime, I'm hearing banging going on in her room during the day. I am the only one home. She had mirrored closet doors that were heavy and they would bang into the wall like someone was opening them with great force. Lots of noise - some small bumps, some louder - stuff falling off tables, etc. I do not tell her of these things. And for some reason, I'm not afraid. I finally decide maybe this boy is trying to tell her what he wanted to tell her that day. So I go upstairs and loudly tell him to go away, (that's what I read you are supposed to do in these circumstances),  that he is scaring my daughter, and making her very sad. 

Things begin to settle down, no more banging, daughter beginning to sleep better. So, you tell me, was it his ghost?