tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13736035549465913662024-03-19T04:24:06.461-07:00So That Happened...amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-69842151743996775232018-11-27T09:41:00.001-08:002018-11-27T09:41:12.779-08:00Oatmeal now served with a dash of Roundup.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi22cGyEIbrZDW5XnC11QCyir-_5RKxysDzXqQ5Da7CSArS15i7EtT_kSQ2j6qGTTL1IG-8nV-C2S7sh_7AHtaojeQWN5iclvwgj8CyYPHM9ghT9wBvMEmnHhYt7tMzuMdxHOOHYfMiCULY/s1600/Four+Leaf+Clover+Lives+On.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi22cGyEIbrZDW5XnC11QCyir-_5RKxysDzXqQ5Da7CSArS15i7EtT_kSQ2j6qGTTL1IG-8nV-C2S7sh_7AHtaojeQWN5iclvwgj8CyYPHM9ghT9wBvMEmnHhYt7tMzuMdxHOOHYfMiCULY/s320/Four+Leaf+Clover+Lives+On.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "libre baskerville"; font-size: 18px; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: xx-small; font-style: normal;">This piece originally appeared on elephant journal, </span><a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/05/11-time-savers-that-are-hurting-us/" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: x-small; font-style: normal;" target="_blank">here</a><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: xx-small; font-style: normal;">. </span></em></div>
<em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "libre baskerville"; font-size: 18px; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">“Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.” – Chief Seattle</em><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #343434; font-family: "libre baskerville"; font-size: 18px;">I used to ferociously pump “he who should not be named” (aka Roundup or Voldemort) all over the yard of my first house because I was working long hours like my neighbors and that’s what we did to get rid of weeds. It has been advertised as a miracle product just like the heroine cough syrup produced by Bayer Laboratories in the 1890’s and I thought it was all gravy. Did you know that Roundup, developed by Monsanto, was recently acquired by Bayer?</span><br />
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<em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"> “Risk comes from not knowing what you’re doing.” – Warren Buffett</em></div>
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I’m now a dog walker and my furry friends and I stroll past a lot of yards. There are some days when I come home with bloodshot eyes and a headache from the fumes radiating off the lawns. I started to question and research what has become commonplace for yard maintenance. The research didn’t give me the warm and fuzzies’ and I have learned to vehemently veer away from any of those tiny plastic signs proclaiming with pride that this yard was just treated by the “Mosquito Man!” or “Lawn and Order” (names fabricated for the purpose of this story).</div>
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I found there are whole books devoted to this topic! Check out Whitewash: The Story of a Weed Killer, Cancer, and the Corruption of Science by Carey Gilliam published just in 2017. One could say, as a result, I’ve developed a bit of an aversion to using chemicals in an attempt to constrain nature.</div>
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Glyphosate is the active ingredient in Roundup and is used world-wide as a herbicide (RIP herbs). Now when I say world-wide I don’t mean third world countries where like don’t give a sh*t if there is a dandelion in their yard and they would likely make a delicious tea out of it.</div>
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Monsanto/Bayer offers genetically modified seeds resistant to glyphosate called “Roundup Ready crops”. Farmers can spray the chemical like a bottle of champagne on New Year’s Eve all over their genetically modified crops and the crops will live on while the weeds can’t stay awake to see the ball drop at midnight. How’s that for a business model?</div>
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You know how our <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2018/03/could-this-gut-bacteria-be-the-fountain-of-youth/" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5fab32; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;" target="_blank">gut health and microbiome</a> is all the rage in wellness nowadays? Glyphosate prevents plants from making certain proteins that are needed for plant growth and targets an enzyme found in plants and microorganisms. There is current research being done on the impact of glyphosate use on a whole slew of things including, but not limited to, the decline of the <a href="http://www.pnas.org/content/115/41/10305.short" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5fab32; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;" target="_blank">honey bee</a> population, the lingering effects of glyphosate in the soil, and human gut bacteria health.</div>
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<em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;">“Some day we shall look back on this dark era of agriculture and shake our heads. How could we have ever believed that it was a good idea to grow our food with poisons?” – Jane Goodall</em></div>
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In a 2015 investigation by the International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC), they labeled glyphosate as Group 2A <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;">probably</em>carcinogenic. This is smack dab in the middle of Group 1 carcinogenic and Group 2B <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;">possibly</em> carcinogenic. May the odds be ever in your favor. <a href="https://www.baumhedlundlaw.com/toxic-tort-law/monsanto-roundup-lawsuit/where-is-glyphosate-banned/" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5fab32; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;" target="_blank">Many countries</a> didn’t like these odds and have banned or restricted the use of the glyphosate.</div>
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In a <a href="https://www.investor.bayer.com/en/nc/events/live-events/conference-call-on-glyphosate-litigation/" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5fab32; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;" target="_blank">conference call</a> on glyphosate litigation in August of 2018, Bayer states, “Farmers and growers have been using glyphosate safely and effectively for more than 40 years.” Bayer goes on to mention all of the historical studies done supporting this claim…studies that have controversy around them. Bayer shared there are over 8,000 plaintiffs—<em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;">thousands</em> of lawsuits against Roundup from people that have developed non-Hodgkin lymphoma and other forms of cancer and claim Monsanto knowingly hid the cancer danger. It may be time to look at glyphosates with fresh eyes eh?</div>
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On August 10, 2018, the Superior Court of San Francisco found Monsanto liable in a lawsuit by a school groundskeeper that alleged the herbicides Roundup and Ranger Pro containing glyphosate caused him to develop non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Bayer’s response is, “This verdict is inconsistent with the robust science-based conclusions of regulators and health authorities worldwide, and we believe it is wrong.” Did I mention in 2017 Monsanto made over <a href="https://monsanto.com/app/uploads/2017/12/2017_Monsanto_Annual_Report.pdf" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5fab32; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;" target="_blank">$14 billion in sales</a> on the chemical and corresponding glyphosate resistant seeds? Ken Cook, President of the Environmental Working Group, response to the verdict was “Monsanto made Roundup the OxyContin of pesticides and now the addiction and damage they caused have come home to roost.” You gotta’ love good metaphor use.</div>
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On August 15, 2018, the Environmental Working Group (EWG) <a href="https://www.ewg.org/release/roundup-breakfast-part-2-new-tests-weed-killer-found-all-kids-cereals-sampled" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5fab32; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;" target="_blank">released a report</a> finding elevated levels above what they would consider safe of glyphosate in 31 of the 45 popular breakfast foods made from oats grown in fields sprayed with the herbicide. Now that’s a breakfast of champions. Who needs a shot of wheat grass when we can have weed killer! Oh those yummy Quaker oatmeal squares? Those had the highest levels. The levels were within regulatory limits set by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA).</div>
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September 27, 2018, the EWG, Ben and Jerry’s, Stonyfield Farm, Nature’s Path, and other food giants <a href="https://www.ewg.org/release/food-companies-ewg-petition-epa-stringent-limits-glyphosate-oats" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #5fab32; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;" target="_blank">petitioned the EPA</a> to limit glyphosate residues allowed on oats and prohibit its use as a pre-harvest drying agent. Band together brothers!</div>
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Now I’m not in the big agriculture game and don’t know enough about large scale farming and feeding the masses to chime in…although I hear there’s this old school thing called “crop rotation” and ploughing that worked well for hundreds of years without chemicals, but I digress. While I don’t have a direct say in how the food is produced, I do have a choice in what food I choose to support with my dolla’ dolla’ billz’ and I choose to eat non-GMO when possible—the same kind of food my ancestors scarfed down.</div>
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I received an email from our neighborhood’s home owner association (HOA) this fall with their tips to get our lawns looking Stepford Wife status. Tip number one was, “Start in mid-August and start killing the invasive weeds. Use Roundup for Bermuda grass (2 applications, 2 weeks apart), or broadleaf weed killer for other noxious weeds.” I had visions of homeowners and golf courses all over the country receiving this same popular tip and streams of chemicals trickling down, making their way into the lake we swim in with our dogs.</div>
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We are in the suburban yard game. I can control is what I put in our own patch of grass and this year we retired our controversial Roundup chemical and took strides to try it all natural with aeration, organic mushroom compost to fertilize, grass seed, and good old fashioned weed pulling.</div>
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Is this more time intensive? Yes, but we’re ok spending a few more hours outside grounding and enjoying the fresh, chemical free air and burning calories pulling weeds and not our eyes.</div>
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Is there indubitably more clover in our yard than yards watched over by Voldemort’s dementors? Yes, but clover is f*cking adorable. How else does one search for four leaf clovers if they’ve all been wiped out by acrid chemicals? And dandelions and the “he loves me, he loves me not” game are a childhood staple, let’s bring them back in style.</div>
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Let’s not wait for all of the 8,000 plus litigation cases to pan out years from now to see the writing on the wall, or in this case the topping on our oatmeal.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #343434; font-family: "libre baskerville"; font-size: 18px;">Many thanks, your neighborhood dog walker and novice gardener.</span><em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "libre baskerville"; font-size: 18px; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"></em>amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-87028055135342656322018-09-03T18:55:00.004-07:002018-09-03T19:03:22.737-07:00Lobstah ChroniclesI hadn't vacationed in over six months and I was raring to go. Every cell in my body was itching to travel. I consciously vowed not to work like a madwoman up to the last minute, pack until two in the morning, and return home to a tornado. This time, I slowed down my schedule leading up to our departure. I cleaned the house, fooling our dog walker into thinking we don't live in a sea of fur. The night before we left we had a home cooked meal and took a long bath to unwind and kick-start our vacation.<br />
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Off to Portland (of the Maine variety) we went! We started our phone detox with a vow not to check email, Facebook, or Instagram and just scan text messages and phone calls a few times a day for anything urgent (see dog walker above). Ping! Others on our plane were very clearly <i>not</i> on a phone detox. Ping! I guess vibrate mode is no longer hip. Ping!<br />
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After a relaxing flight of me draping myself over Troy to nap, we drove to Old Orchard Beach just outside of Portland for our first East Coast meal. We landed on Joseph's by the Sea, which had a rooftop patio with a view of the ocean and had been around for fifty years.<br />
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The smell and feel of the sea air, albeit a tad more fishy than usual, wafted by. We bundled up in our jackets while the locals waltzed around in shorts and tank tops during their "heat wave." We had our first lobstah' roll, mayo based, and bowl of chowdah'. The lobster was surprisingly soft and dissolved in my mouth. These rolls became fabled for a reason.<br />
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We took a stroll on the beach and noticed a lot of white dots in the water. As we came closer to the shoreline we discovered dozens of dead fish...and very plump seagulls. You couldn't walk more than a few feet before seeing another. We then noticed the red algae swirling in the water. I had no idea the toxic red tide impacted that far up the coast. I felt dismayed. No one was playing in the water during this alleged heat wave.<br />
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We walked away from the shoreline and sat on a bench, letting the sound of the waves relax us.<br />
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We started the beautiful drive (based on Troy's account...I was keeping my pro napper status) to Sunapee, New Hampshire. It looked an awful lot like North Carolina with the green trees surrounding the roadway. Sunapee is straight out of a Hallmark movie, it is so quaint and adorable. My cousin and his soon to be wife had a welcome dinner on the MV restaurant ship.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2HggJtxZlMxH5xayUWQZ9uOVfLJ8VRTFBA9XWoNbHZ_pKCRmDIut2XSqvYaO2rY4_787LTLgfiVm1fAAG68n4AnkmmP_9LlogsvRj2JlrYnv8_gZWFZm16IEwdenyIh7PXn3P74VegNtg/s1600/boat2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2HggJtxZlMxH5xayUWQZ9uOVfLJ8VRTFBA9XWoNbHZ_pKCRmDIut2XSqvYaO2rY4_787LTLgfiVm1fAAG68n4AnkmmP_9LlogsvRj2JlrYnv8_gZWFZm16IEwdenyIh7PXn3P74VegNtg/s200/boat2.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSszCPR9R1Gl74YdMhQ-IAjih4xMwbKlk-gfzu5WqJPpzK6RDlQJHs_oH3qWCRWX8-pFPJf7w9YBcf0j3IvRE_o5__1wwGo1SHDZP7ngnjmHoVZNYiyJ-GssPI5yzm8RSmCKBXNCjCI68b/s1600/boat+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSszCPR9R1Gl74YdMhQ-IAjih4xMwbKlk-gfzu5WqJPpzK6RDlQJHs_oH3qWCRWX8-pFPJf7w9YBcf0j3IvRE_o5__1wwGo1SHDZP7ngnjmHoVZNYiyJ-GssPI5yzm8RSmCKBXNCjCI68b/s200/boat+3.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvxPyzW5Uh1MSXrC56xHnDEu23ZG7Xy3dYEHkwAkD_yAAjkrMVNMmt2yFtTkU8j9HB2vTqjmO00hTc6TF-qpnfCCNEPyU1-RoruaqGvn0jbK_dS-dXcbr18kmLnkBpy556sphIFWRdI2v/s1600/boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvxPyzW5Uh1MSXrC56xHnDEu23ZG7Xy3dYEHkwAkD_yAAjkrMVNMmt2yFtTkU8j9HB2vTqjmO00hTc6TF-qpnfCCNEPyU1-RoruaqGvn0jbK_dS-dXcbr18kmLnkBpy556sphIFWRdI2v/s200/boat.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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We ate from a wicked salad bar and southern entrees while cruising Lake Sunapee. It was great to catch up and story tell with my sisters, their significant others, and cousins.<br />
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The next morning we searched yelp and google for local breakfast establishments to no avail. Despite the abundance of maple syrup, breakfast was no where to be found. Wherever does all the syrup go? Quite confusing really.<br />
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Chomping on our granola bars from our wedding welcome bags, we hit the road to check out the Fells historic estate and gardens. The Fells was built by John Hays, Abe Lincoln's right hand man. I was taken aback by how beautiful the gardens were and I loved all the the little stone benches. Who knew stone could be so dang charming!<br />
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We took a hike through the virgin timber forest on the John Hays Ecological trail. The bright green moss was dazzling. We stepped over large boulders (well, some of us tripped cough Troy cough), saw lots of ferns, and dying white birch trees. Upon research these trees have short life spans and are shade intolerant so as the forest grows they die off. I was in my happy place, migraine auras clearing. That forest aroma just makes you feel good all over.<br />
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We met up with the family at Bubba's for lunch. We shared our picture of a moose and had everyone fooled into thinking we spotted one...we had but it was from a sculpture exhibit.<br />
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We had a hot buttered lobstah' roll and it was succulent, the mayo version seeming unimpressive. More chowdah. I could eat chowdah' all day, but alas we had a wedding to get ready for.<br />
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To get to the wedding ceremony we got to ride the ski life up the summit of Mount Sunapee. This was the longest lift I've ever been on and the view! It looked like a watercolor painting in the backdrop with overlapping pastel mountain ridges.<br />
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I loved watching the emotions during the beautiful ceremony. My favorite part is when the minister said the wind is the spirits of the ones that are no longer with us and to take a moment of silence to honor them and feel the breeze and the breeze picked up at that exact moment!<br />
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On to celebrate! Cocktail hour did not disappoint. Have you ever had green onions dipped in artichoke dip? You should. The speeches, Troy's favorite part of weddings, were on point; a balance of humor, reflection, and love. Despite my desire not to delay dinner, I was inspired and felt compelled to speak, sharing the story of my cousin sending me a letter years ago that ended with, "P.S. I'm going to ask Caroline to marry me." I tore the house apart trying to find that bloody letter to frame for them to no avail!<br />
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On to dancing, my favorite part of weddings, and the bouquet toss. I was a shoo in given my wingspan. Luckily the bouquet split in two and I didn't have to take it from the flower girls...we each got our own. Despite my excitement over my fate, it was very anti-climatic. Troy was in the bathroom at the time and my entire family was out on the patio. No one seemed to care that I was now surely going to soon be engaged to be married. I was happy to hear a guy saw Troy exiting the bathroom and exclaimed, "She caught it!" I'm not sure if he said it apologetically or excitedly.<br />
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We ended with pie, such a unique and lovely touch, in honor of the bride's mom. She believed if you always brought a homemade pie to a get together you'd always be invited back! I am a huge fan of pie and happily savored the raspberry delight.<br />
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Heading back to Portland the next morning we were in luck, the East Coast does believe in Sunday Brunch! We stopped at the Breakfast Club in Manchester. I felt the need to get an item that required maple syrup and chose the french toast. I have never had a bad piece of french toast and this was no exception.<br />
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After another nap er drive back to Portland we wandered around the cobbled town checking out the shops.<br />
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We stopped at the Liquid Riot Brewery. We landed prime time seats on the back patio overlooking the water and began our seagull observation.<br />
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The Tropical Storm sour beer was good, but not quite as tart as I prefer. Troy gave their IPAs two thumbs up.<br />
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On to Sebago Brewing Company. Super excited to try the cranberry sour "Bog So Hard", I was a little let down by the lack of tartness as well. There was a faint flavor of cranberry if you knew what you were expecting. The chowdah wasn't homemade so we passed. The IPAs didn't pass the Troy Test. Womp Womp.<br />
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We walked through DiMillo's floating restaurant, but it seemed too cruise ship and I started having flashbacks and we proceeded on to Scales. The entrance is tucked away down the wharf.<br />
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We were shocked to hear it would be a three hour wait, but consoled when the bar wait was thirty minutes. As we waited in the convenient lounge area we met two people in the restaurant business there to eat and felt confident in our dinner selection. I wasn't overly impressed with the fried cauliflower, it was a little bland, but every other bite I wanted to imprint in my brain. The heirloom tomato salad was fresh with hints of basil. The cloverleaf rolls with garlic butter were like eating a cloud. I had to refrain from ordering more. We decided we had to try lobster outside of a roll and ordered one steamed. I watched on in mild astonishment as the local to the left of Troy grabbed a lobster leg right off Troy's plate, manhandled it, and showed him the proper way to eat it.<br />
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I splurged on a hotel room with a balcony and view of the water and Old Port. I love when I can get to fresh air which is rare in a hotel. We were so excited to discover we could hear the live outdoor music perfectly from our balcony, grabbed the complimentary throw blanket, and bundled up on the balcony chairs with the dreamiest view.<br />
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We slept for ten tranquil hours! We debated going to a local yoga class and decided we weren't ready to leave the view from our hotel room just yet. I laid out the throw blanket for a mat and settled in for a "home" practice, feeling more and more human with each minute as I found my breath and released travel tension. Feeling like a new woman, we headed to our last stop, Holy Donut. The line was halfway down the block, but moving quickly so we jumped in.<br />
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Half an hour later we left with half a dozen donuts and Maine blueberry coffee. Our donuts in order of favoritism; lemon, pomegranate, maple, Maine blueberry, vanilla glazed dark chocolate, vanilla glazed.<br />
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The only regrets from the trip were not having enough time to get more hiking in and Troy wanted to get out on the water to fish or crab.<br />
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I love traveling, and I especially love doing it with Troy, he is an amazing travel partner. I always feel at ease and relaxed and he supports my pro-napper ways. We include activities we each want to do and take it all in.<br />
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We didn't pick up the East coach accent, but did gain a greater appreciation for Lobstah...and breakfast.<br />
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<br />amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-91884544566546274502017-12-19T10:51:00.003-08:002017-12-19T10:54:47.497-08:00I Get By With a Little Help from My Chair<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0aWz5HqBudB3LaClMeuH1pK4qkhmrBULDPC1dYFVyPUvqGHm_LaXYbrO8TnSxsDzJUjxGq13z31T59wl5pS3d739TlmVhK0R5Cj2m21hjqqcvyHnUjyam-O9wf7iqQqzgGAfcKpddt7Z/s1600/image1+%25282%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: #f7f7f7; font-size: 18px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: rgba(26 , 26 , 26 , 0.701960784313725); font-family: proxima-nova;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="940" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0aWz5HqBudB3LaClMeuH1pK4qkhmrBULDPC1dYFVyPUvqGHm_LaXYbrO8TnSxsDzJUjxGq13z31T59wl5pS3d739TlmVhK0R5Cj2m21hjqqcvyHnUjyam-O9wf7iqQqzgGAfcKpddt7Z/s400/image1+%25282%2529.png" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
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Chair yoga home practice. 2017.<br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: xx-small; text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: xx-small; text-align: center;">This piece originally appeared on the iShine Yoga Blog, </span><a href="http://www.ishineyoga.com/blog/" style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: x-small;" target="_blank">here</a><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: xx-small; text-align: center;">. </span></td></tr>
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I went through a long bout with chronic migraines and fatigue last year. It was near the end of yoga teacher training and I was low energy. As part of our training we tried various types of yoga classes and we were introduced to a glorious yoga prop---the chair.<br />
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The old friend instantly engulfed me in a steady hug filled with quiet strength. Long-time friends are comfortable, supportive, and OK to lean on from time to time.<br />
It’s not natural for me to ask for help, to rest. I want to do it all on my own, not having to rely on others.<br />
<div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"You just call on me brother, when you need a hand. We all need somebody to lean on." </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
~Bill Withers</blockquote>
I overheard a student telling another teacher the last class was really hard. The teacher replied, “But how did you feel at the end of practice?”<br />
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The chair practice was grounding and peaceful. With the support of a chair I was able to relax and drop into my breath, my body awareness heightened. I’m 6’3” and the “right” way to do a yoga asana (pose) is not always the same for me as someone who is 5’3”, our body structures and flexibility are all different. I explored warrior asanas more deeply than I’d ever been. I could hold the poses longer and build strength. My alignment felt on point.<br />
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Like an unspoken glance between sisters, the chair understood exactly what my body needed in a pose. I stopped thinking about what my body couldn’t do and instead noticed what my body was able to do in the moment and how strong I was.<br />
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You don’t have to be on a mat or standing or have Gumby flexibility to do yoga; you just have to <i>breathe</i>.<br />
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I regularly interact with people intimidated by yoga classes in studio due to injuries, lost flexibility and balance, or low stamina from a recent injury or illness. I want yoga to be accessible to every body so we can all experience the endless benefits of yoga. I thought back to my friend that brought steadiness and ease to my practice, the chair.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_de3snB9gm7_ZOnTzvS-4Ht2_QGWTHthj50YifVGDBzU2jPb63N6ccGyz5wTV_3PO2mee6UUY8joNz_AA72j8Jb-o0afe6QrrcjTjPlkmvLeFc-76-ARjgZJ-t-BJ2yS-OyD_YUyzGqsc/s1600/IMG_2624.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: #f7f7f7; font-size: 18px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: rgba(26 , 26 , 26 , 0.701960784313725); font-family: proxima-nova;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="940" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_de3snB9gm7_ZOnTzvS-4Ht2_QGWTHthj50YifVGDBzU2jPb63N6ccGyz5wTV_3PO2mee6UUY8joNz_AA72j8Jb-o0afe6QrrcjTjPlkmvLeFc-76-ARjgZJ-t-BJ2yS-OyD_YUyzGqsc/s400/IMG_2624.PNG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
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Mandatory chair yoga with family. Thanksgiving 2017. </td></tr>
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I hope fellow yogis and yoginis like the one below will come and take a seat with me.</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Three years ago I fell and had to overcome some difficult injuries. After a long rehab I couldn’t bring myself to start exercising. Several months ago I developed sciatica. After it resolved I decided to try yoga in an attempt to ward off a recurrence. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
This is one of the best decisions I have made. While my strength and balance are lacking, I see improvements in my flexibility and overall feeling of wellness. When Amber told me about her class on chair yoga I knew it would be perfect for my needs. I hope to gain strength and improve my balance. This will enhance my yoga practice. I feel like a new person in mind, body and soul since starting yoga. I am looking forward to beginning the chair yoga class!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
~ Anne Beasley</blockquote>
Asking for help reveals strength, not weakness. Sometimes you just need a friend to help you on your way.<br />
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B.K.S. Iyengar defines a yoga prop as, “any object that helps stretch, strengthen, relax, or improve the alignment of the body.”<br />
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Over time we may rely on our chair friend less and less, but will know it is always there if we need it.</div>
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<a href="https://www.lakeyogatribe.com/yoga-on-land/" target="_blank">Reserve your chair for one of Amber's Chair Yoga classes. </a> <br />
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amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-68179641616525961382017-11-12T18:15:00.001-08:002017-11-14T08:48:20.185-08:00Last Second Anniversary at the Outer Banks<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">My love, Troy, told me he wants to take me to the Outer Banks for
our two year anniversary. I was ecstatic; it’s on my bucket list and everything
wild and remote about it intrigues me. We planned to go in October, the start
of offseason, to avoid the crowds. The next day he curiously asked me if it’s
ok if he takes three hours of kite surfing lessons every day on our
“anniversary” trip. My initial reaction was not pleasant, I wanted undivided
anniversary attention. Then I paused for a moment. Three hours a day... Naps,
reading, meditation, beach walks, yoga galore! Game on. I replied, “Sure babe!
Please do, I know how much you’ve been wanting to do those.” Cough. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">We had a 1:00 pm target departure time on a Thursday. Actual
departure: 2:30 pm. Someone (cough Troy cough) needed to squeeze in four
errands. I meditated patiently in our chair hammock with visions of the beach
until Troy was ready to pack up the car. I made my way to the garage and
suspiciously peered in the car. I asked, “Babe, why did you pack fishing rods,
a cast net, a fish net, and a tackle box for our, “anniversary” trip?” Troy logically responds, “In case there is no
wind when I’m supposed to go kite surfing.” Sigh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">We hit the road, alternating who napped. I proclaimed that this is
our first vacation together just the two of us. We started our phone detox,
turning off our ringers. I began asking Troy all the questions from the Ungame,
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">a learning/communication game of
conversation that claims to foster listening skills as well as self-expression.
I randomly received this game alongside an essential oil diffuser in the mail,
addressed to me, three years ago. The sender remains unknown. I’m not sure who
could possibly think I need to listen or express myself better… as Troy turned
to me and exclaimed, “You aren’t answering any of the questions, and I’m answering
all of them.” </span>We agree to go away together just the two of us once a quarter
for quality one on one time, perhaps without the Ungame.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">The food options leading up to the
outer banks are not plentiful. Word of advice; eat before you get to the two
hours remaining countdown. We settled for shrimp pineapple fajitas and
guacamole from a Mexican restaurant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">After seven hours of joyful
self-expression and pineapple delight, we arrived at our <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/3774488">treehouse</a> room in Buxton, NC.
It was charming with light catchers in the windows, eclectic artwork, and
trinkets like sea glass in every nook. On the second floor alongside the trees,
you could hear birds chirping and the breeze enveloped the room. Fifteen feet
away from the treehouse was the boat of Ty Luckett, owner of <a href="file:///C:/Users/Amber/Documents/Writing/kitehatteras.net">Kitehatteras.net</a>. Troy was originally going to take
lessons from Ty, but unfortunately his mother passed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Day one of the Outer Banks, I dropped
Troy off for kite surfing camp with the gentlemen from <a href="http://outerbankskiting.com/">Outer Banks Kiting</a>. Troy was so excited
and cute, wrapped up in his wet suit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEMgF_Vz_u0-aNRwA1wqL39E4CVh0Q1wgkV5gRhVgjH0U98kOhROQqZQf4RmQ2fLK2E_yuWouFTqe5zpoJEwBgQ8gRAkVTCRPB7g6mMNpTgvDjjIZPlxBQTl6AHxKY5foSsUPbYzanX42Y/s1600/wetsuit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEMgF_Vz_u0-aNRwA1wqL39E4CVh0Q1wgkV5gRhVgjH0U98kOhROQqZQf4RmQ2fLK2E_yuWouFTqe5zpoJEwBgQ8gRAkVTCRPB7g6mMNpTgvDjjIZPlxBQTl6AHxKY5foSsUPbYzanX42Y/s320/wetsuit.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Phone detox day two. I found myself
opening my phone and catching myself about to scan emails or Facebook, a
mindless habit. I forced myself to put the phone down.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">I made my way to the back porch of
the treehouse, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, no responsibilities, with all the time
in the world (three hours to be exact) to just be. It was drizzling, but not
enough to leave my peaceful back porch oasis. Just being and not doing is <i>hard</i>. I had to release all the guilt
that came up from not being productive. I mused that all the drama that seemed
so monumental back home and at work really didn’t matter at all as I was tucked
away in the sound in another part of the world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">I started yoga on the back porch, letting
my body flow into whatever asanas (poses) called to me. Afterwards I jotted down a new
class sequence to teach when I got back home. I journaled. I wrote. The three
hours passed quickly and it was time to pick up my big kid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Troy was ecstatic about his day,
bouncing around excitedly. He drove his SUV onto the beach and we stopped to leisurely
walk along, picking up sea shells. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wgMD5mK_4208eZflgGo_Rc3PSYPhebPasEMdjxjqBujsOvQ0rUopfkwuTqJbhmJhDL_4b54x7leKe14tYFB8VUA4R8VtyVghdrrTy0SzsVfr1G7kQpoJ4YfnlCBrvd9WykLmVxcEPV7F/s1600/beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8wgMD5mK_4208eZflgGo_Rc3PSYPhebPasEMdjxjqBujsOvQ0rUopfkwuTqJbhmJhDL_4b54x7leKe14tYFB8VUA4R8VtyVghdrrTy0SzsVfr1G7kQpoJ4YfnlCBrvd9WykLmVxcEPV7F/s320/beach.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">To think these all these shells grew from a tiny
particle. I started to toss the broken shells back and paused. I looked hard at
those pieces, really looked, and saw something different. I developed a
protective fury for the seashell population. Everyone throws back the shells
that are chipped and cracked, the broken pieces, only keeping and cherishing
the seemingly perfect crustaceans. Just because you aren’t the same as you
started, doesn’t mean you aren’t beautiful. How do you define whole anyways? Who
wants perfect ridges like manicured lawns or vacuum strokes on a carpet? I
developed a fondness for the wild and irregular shell pieces. There were 50
broken shells to one whole everywhere I looked. Rounded edges smooth from the sea
water battering---holding strong despite the continuous beatings. Sharp edges
still fresh from a break that will smooth over many years. Beautiful colors,
the purple called to me. Troy just looked at me with a bemused expression and
held his hands out to hold pieces for me as I raged on about the shell
injustice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">When we went to leave the beach,
Troy had to dig sand out from behind the tires. Letting air out of the tires to
ride on the beach is legit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHT_xM4FpQHvRknkV6jYWHlCIgFY2cQCSOkdSBhGFy2LnW-o1DREJcDAA6L6JT5kil7H8FUNhTCt9abas1kN5GSo6PiAJGKMPy3Oeh4qrBMdfQooEoN1wCpI98voOzCNYvetEUlsJRNPo/s1600/tire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHT_xM4FpQHvRknkV6jYWHlCIgFY2cQCSOkdSBhGFy2LnW-o1DREJcDAA6L6JT5kil7H8FUNhTCt9abas1kN5GSo6PiAJGKMPy3Oeh4qrBMdfQooEoN1wCpI98voOzCNYvetEUlsJRNPo/s320/tire.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white;">We stopped at a muffin joint and
picked up fresh baked pecan butterscotch scones and fresh squeezed orange
juice. Ahh vacation. We proceeded back to the treehouse and gave each other deep
tissue massages (well, mine was really more Swedish, let’s be real) and fell
into the most wonderful nap. That night we went to the Watermen’s Bar &
Grill at REAL Watersports for grub, live music, and views of kite surfers. We
had the guactail filled with crab meat, shrimp, and guac. It was humongous.
Topped off with a seafood plater of Mahi, crab cake, shrimp, black beans, and
cole slaw I grew sleepy.</span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Outer banks day two. I woke up and
went to write about my dream in my dream journal. I turned to a new page and
found a note from my love saying I am his dream come true. This guy, swoon. He
said he wrote it months ago for me to find. I guess I need to dream more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">After picking up our scones and
fresh OJ, I dropped off Troy at his adult camp and went to a local yoga class. I
loved how we didn’t always flow, we would turn our feet to the back of the mat
and do the sequence on the other side. I went to the back porch and wrote
another yoga class sequence for when I returned home. I picked up Troy and we
grabbed a quinoa burger and ahi tuna from Bro’s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">We stopped to see the famous
lighthouse and pick up our beach driving permit before proceeding onward to the
Ocracoke island ferry. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVmpgwi0s0Nhe2iYBvdM_U7nC95d5_1gtx5VavnIKt3Lx59L6NHteE9nQ2mWkZTsLi3kGkGApQ3b5iqTq2eWYBhLwZAh5fBs0n90uonH4Wb_EJrcR2oMCN5aOPPYe1vmm965OtaCyz4_gX/s1600/lighthouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVmpgwi0s0Nhe2iYBvdM_U7nC95d5_1gtx5VavnIKt3Lx59L6NHteE9nQ2mWkZTsLi3kGkGApQ3b5iqTq2eWYBhLwZAh5fBs0n90uonH4Wb_EJrcR2oMCN5aOPPYe1vmm965OtaCyz4_gX/s320/lighthouse.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYXlDJsBMC-mqBH2oSPsIj6v2Gj9K6BkZqAXkEwl8Byz2DmjIATYlUdB8L5HKX_0Ca2Et1C9V37Eqbgoomlv71_ZLhB5ImBVRu0qpTfaogGda4Uc4EUx3kdKJ0SLG-kfhCsDZ9s8BrpqZ/s1600/lighthouse2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="274" data-original-width="206" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqYXlDJsBMC-mqBH2oSPsIj6v2Gj9K6BkZqAXkEwl8Byz2DmjIATYlUdB8L5HKX_0Ca2Et1C9V37Eqbgoomlv71_ZLhB5ImBVRu0qpTfaogGda4Uc4EUx3kdKJ0SLG-kfhCsDZ9s8BrpqZ/s320/lighthouse2.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">After the ferry ride, we ventured to the Hammock Hills Nature Trail in the Maritime
forest. The mosquitoes were no joke, they went through my yoga pants with a bug
spray cover. Troy attacked me with the DEET mosquito repellent, not satisfied
with my all natural essential oil spray. We saw the coolest tree roots
intertwined. I have a tree root fetish, I am fascinated in how the trees communicate and help each other out underground. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh2YOJvQEITYrTumet5T3f_2VZGGHJlwuBB79uxdDE7jBA6vR0IjzmnaLbLqbsyEabbKv4ZqJCWBZFVYmabFEpbbJyaqTv3FSIpm3VrjEGSH6qGZ6OaD1E0qv-WU75PfzGfmj57MtItRwv/s1600/image1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh2YOJvQEITYrTumet5T3f_2VZGGHJlwuBB79uxdDE7jBA6vR0IjzmnaLbLqbsyEabbKv4ZqJCWBZFVYmabFEpbbJyaqTv3FSIpm3VrjEGSH6qGZ6OaD1E0qv-WU75PfzGfmj57MtItRwv/s320/image1.jpeg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIzMtDg94ryq_HhvEjIJJ2Gtxhh-H1NHUeuZDrWngxvosakScn6SlESq9iv87ogY_FOX7q-r1zvgQpj4z3WziaVjeDkrt1FU1PpD8dYJ48G31cH703d0vqLsFP0gYwIxNr5cvmMtHssimg/s1600/maritime+forest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIzMtDg94ryq_HhvEjIJJ2Gtxhh-H1NHUeuZDrWngxvosakScn6SlESq9iv87ogY_FOX7q-r1zvgQpj4z3WziaVjeDkrt1FU1PpD8dYJ48G31cH703d0vqLsFP0gYwIxNr5cvmMtHssimg/s320/maritime+forest.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Troy then took me to see the wild ponies, but they had 800 layers
of fence in between me and the horses so I couldn’t love on them. Is a horse
nuzzle too much to ask for around these parts? </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgazSH5SzuSt8paujBEhn2tFwYrw1wNACyHM_mxys3HbBZb7L_5pFmQhyphenhyphen62rrJafM9AG1Wroe02PZsBzZAxrDbFC4AvA_6Y041grIvEnCYxckdZkcC4lr46QL8qMqIlupzll8eiHQJL7fi_/s1600/horses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="274" data-original-width="206" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgazSH5SzuSt8paujBEhn2tFwYrw1wNACyHM_mxys3HbBZb7L_5pFmQhyphenhyphen62rrJafM9AG1Wroe02PZsBzZAxrDbFC4AvA_6Y041grIvEnCYxckdZkcC4lr46QL8qMqIlupzll8eiHQJL7fi_/s320/horses.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">I went on to read in my OBX
guide that every time a human approaches, feeds, or touches a wild horse, they
have to take the horse out of the wild for the protection of the horse and
others. They are actually quite dangerous as they aren’t tame or trained and
can bite and kick and they can become deathly ill if they eat anything off
their mild and native diet of sea grass and oats, acorns, and persimmons. A
horse recently died from eating watermelon rind a vacationer fed it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">We at dinner at <a href="http://www.dajiorestaurant.com/">Dajio</a> and it was so bloody good. They
use local ingredients from scratch and had a straw-less summer poster up. We
feasted on oysters and spotted sea trout, root vegetable medley, succotash,
clam chowder with mushrooms, and jalapeno corn bread. Days like that are why I
call myself a <i>semi</i>-vegan/pescatarian.
We stopped at 1718, Ocracoke Island’s first brewery. They had only been open
for six days. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUDkNX-ZSpCEJzhf6VuK2v9im6eV-xXLR0GAZkT-lcdAwwrJNLs3E7fCsJqu6AI8j5QY1TahCzKyrPJfMr9i1tPFf65w_2lx6RjlfbpKZsajb-cXwsF0KlttyOOs-vO3B_qFqqT-52mFE/s1600/brewery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUDkNX-ZSpCEJzhf6VuK2v9im6eV-xXLR0GAZkT-lcdAwwrJNLs3E7fCsJqu6AI8j5QY1TahCzKyrPJfMr9i1tPFf65w_2lx6RjlfbpKZsajb-cXwsF0KlttyOOs-vO3B_qFqqT-52mFE/s320/brewery.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Bellies full, we made our way back to the ferry and fell into a
deep slumber. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Outer Banks day three we slept in
and awoke to a beautiful day. The sun was out! The sun was out! We picked up
our scones and mango smoothies and headed to Ace Hardware to buy a tire
pressure gauge capable of reading below 20 pounds, a tow strap, and a shovel.
The cashier asked us if we had a board. We looked at him questioningly. He
replied, “Sir, did you even read your permit?” We bought a board. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS8YOMrru_YzkV8TkPJHfI3FQKI9tltOsYYI3oFgeVbRr2rB-cDfuqEzyFXM4bUbfuB1iyNC1FWhm4zcVIVYeFcvoc6_imjMkSHB9j_2B4xtZPcyqS4DyPhlhyphenhyphenf51YCfDA_CfS5R7nA5VL/s1600/image4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS8YOMrru_YzkV8TkPJHfI3FQKI9tltOsYYI3oFgeVbRr2rB-cDfuqEzyFXM4bUbfuB1iyNC1FWhm4zcVIVYeFcvoc6_imjMkSHB9j_2B4xtZPcyqS4DyPhlhyphenhyphenf51YCfDA_CfS5R7nA5VL/s320/image4.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">We met the
coolest guy at Ace Hardware. He was shouting from the rooftops about celebrating
the 62<sup>nd </sup>anniversary of escaping the Vietnam War prison he was held captive
in for a year! a wave of gratitude flowed over me. I wanted to envelope him in a hug.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">We ventured to Shelly “island”. It’s,
well, shelly. There were <i>so many
seashells</i>. It was astounding. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsot7YTzhNkv0DmqdGGFn8jxTkdHAzYnZEX5adiZ-Lq_SftkPgbdaGSpmdTqh70DvMW7OkjPmJTIx541bzAWcrKeRN3L5U0UBj2a0HHZ3y7SrKUCqf3udxuC93Id2emrlCiY21UngoL3qs/s1600/image3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsot7YTzhNkv0DmqdGGFn8jxTkdHAzYnZEX5adiZ-Lq_SftkPgbdaGSpmdTqh70DvMW7OkjPmJTIx541bzAWcrKeRN3L5U0UBj2a0HHZ3y7SrKUCqf3udxuC93Id2emrlCiY21UngoL3qs/s320/image3.jpeg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I had to force myself to stop picking up
seashells because every footstep I found so many beautiful ones. We pumped up
our paddleboards and ventured into the ocean. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd82H6_8W7g_NnJMbS9Xm-rlXXqYUC_Y0p-mFxvxUvJ-oqkxPhN765MoaHbuRGPKLtV9XYslKngzgIb8-iFCHvSPJbiSInECG1qUWrScPa-BSCfGacMamy5HwwT8y4BHEmTWG-Enw6N3CA/s1600/paddle+pump+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="274" data-original-width="206" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd82H6_8W7g_NnJMbS9Xm-rlXXqYUC_Y0p-mFxvxUvJ-oqkxPhN765MoaHbuRGPKLtV9XYslKngzgIb8-iFCHvSPJbiSInECG1qUWrScPa-BSCfGacMamy5HwwT8y4BHEmTWG-Enw6N3CA/s320/paddle+pump+up.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYUm7stqd0_WMtkizzagC57infr5oQLRXTbWSPleT5ycpj37Mq4BGCQnylgIi83gJqXUTQTDTz2SWqO07MsSbtKZrjwTUB9r-BKiDQk3znQIj6LNtQiJiZ5q6fx3NfhIc4jS189Tq391U/s1600/image2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYUm7stqd0_WMtkizzagC57infr5oQLRXTbWSPleT5ycpj37Mq4BGCQnylgIi83gJqXUTQTDTz2SWqO07MsSbtKZrjwTUB9r-BKiDQk3znQIj6LNtQiJiZ5q6fx3NfhIc4jS189Tq391U/s320/image2.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">It was such a blast having waves
come unexpectedly from behind and surfing. After paddling and surfing the
gentle waves for a while, I had a migraine aura visitor and laid down on my board.
I sleepily lifted my head to ask Troy what he was doing. His eyes frantically
darted from side to side and he replied, “Have you ever heard of the term, “Apex
Predator?” This area is known to be the most shark infested area of the Outer
Banks. Remember the guy that didn’t want to come paddle-boarding with us here
because he said he didn’t want to be part of the big fish eats the little fish
game?” I chuckled and laid my head back down on the board. We eventually made
our way back to the beach and headed out.</span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">We had fresh caught red drum for
lunch and it was decadent. I was a little disappointed that all of the
restaurants at the Outer Banks had so many disposables; plates, cups, ughhhh.
Even when dining in, we’d get our scone on a disposable plastic plate. I
expected them to be more eco and earth conscious being remote. Eating
semi-vegan/pescatarian was a little challenging. Cheese wasn’t always listed,
but it came on everything. But most places had salads, vegetables, and fruits
so I was golden. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">I went with Troy to the last day of
his adult camp to watch him kite surf into the sunset and take pics. It was
impressive to say the least, so many variables. He got some really long runs ins, at one time
almost disappearing into the horizon. He was a shredding handsome fool (Troy
made me type that). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffw3XoggTTpsugqYxHiPgpdFdFiUl8iw9AieqpBy1k-ClLQ_tukFT3qJ1KWemg5JsFHEIebw7vvUg3wTO_Cb8lMRTka9JOzPMOihWHn3zW2OcNdvy08cC_mu2DVOeE7uPUoifKTizRhgH/s1600/orb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffw3XoggTTpsugqYxHiPgpdFdFiUl8iw9AieqpBy1k-ClLQ_tukFT3qJ1KWemg5JsFHEIebw7vvUg3wTO_Cb8lMRTka9JOzPMOihWHn3zW2OcNdvy08cC_mu2DVOeE7uPUoifKTizRhgH/s320/orb.jpg" width="180" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">On recommendation from multiple
locals, we went to <a href="https://www.ketch55.com/">Ketch 55</a> for our
anniversary dinner. I talked about all the sea shells we found excitedly to the
folks at the bar. James, one of the kite surfing trainers, said he never took
seashells because a local in Hawaii told him it was bad luck not to leave
things as you found them. Well drat. I thought regrettably back to the huge
bucket of shells in our car and sighed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">A local at the bar exclaimed, “You
will never have another second anniversary” and his comment really stuck with
me. We had the most decadent pesto-crusted grouper and sweet pea cous cous.
Best food we had on the entire trip. The kite surfing trainers from Outer Banks
Kiting and locals at the bar had an apple pie turnover sent to our table and
the entire restaurant sang us happy anniversary. It was so warm, unexpected,
and memorable. Those are the kind of memories I want to create for others. We
joined Jay (the owner of Outer Banks Kiting), Larry (local fisherman), Danny
(owner of Dizzy’s ice cream trucks), and the bartender Joni to one up each
other with tall tales (mine clearly the tallest). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">The next morning we packed up the
car, walked the Avon Pier, and then took one last beach stroll. I left <i>most</i> of the shells there. We (ok I) skipped and danced in the wild
winds on the beach, twirling around exuberantly, all 6’3’’ of me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Until next time OBX, until next
time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-13801670774974604442017-05-12T12:03:00.001-07:002017-05-12T12:05:02.976-07:0011 Time Savers that are Hurting Us.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">This piece originally appeared on elephant journal, <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/05/11-time-savers-that-are-hurting-us/" target="_blank">here</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Did you ever have one of those deciding moments, a sinking realization that you’ve learned too much and there’s no going back to how you were living prior to that knowledge?</span></div>
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During my apprenticeship with elephant journal, one thing kept standing out to me—what is popular is not always what is the most important.<br />
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Like great journalists, I need to doggedly search for the truth and facts and not take anything at face value. This caused me to start questioning my daily way of life. I agreed to a challenge of not using any disposable cups for several months. Sounds easy, right?<br />
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One day, I forgot my stainless-steel tumbler, and I purposely didn’t get carryout at a local restaurant to avoid the waste. But it was to no avail. They brought me water in a plastic cup to my dine-in table, and I cringed when they proceeded to bring my food on a paper plate, as well. I stared on in horror as the server threw my disdainful cup away and grabbed a new plastic cup to leach chemicals into my refill.<br />
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That weekend we attended a charity dinner, and I watched in dismay as 250 hard plastic plates that could pass for fine china in my own cabinet were thrown into large trash bins after the meal.<br />
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Now that I was mindful of it and paying attention, it was incredulousness how much waste I created every time we went outside of our home for a meal or social outing. I am just one person, but when I started envisioning how many disposable items are used in just one hour across the world, I started to feel ill.<br />
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I don’t want to challenge the way it’s always been done; I want to challenge the way we’ve done it for the past 50 years or so and how it’s impacting ourselves, our communities, and our Earth.<br />
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Red flags for me are hearing the words popular, convenient, easy, or free.<br />
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A lot of truth and research is staring us in the face, but we have been blindly turning away.<br />
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We work so hard to afford the finer things in life and maintain them, but are those the very things that are hurting us? When I sat down and really thought about how we’re living, I came up with 11 ways of life I’m working to make the exception instead of the norm, saving some money along the way. We can survive without all of these things, but with them, the Earth won’t:<br />
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<b>1. Processed, frozen, packaged, and fast foods. </b>I just threw up a little bit in my mouth. I don’t want to eat anything with 25 ingredients on the label that I can’t even pronounce. I like to call this faux food. Let’s bring cooking locally-grown whole foods back.<br />
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<b>2. Microwaves. </b>With an increase in the consumption of frozen and processed foods comes an increase in microwave use. Microwaves change the chemical structure of food, and that sh*t just isn’t natural. Microwaves damage the nutritional value of food; steaming is much better. I am also a huge advocate of the toaster oven or a rice cooker.<br />
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You can plan ahead to defrost and it only takes just a few more minutes to heat up food. I store dish towels in our spotless microwave, but if you can’t quit it, at least stand in a different room when it’s running so you don’t absorb as many electromagnetic frequencies (EMFs) linked to cancer and other health issues—we get enough of those EMFs from our cell phones and Wi-Fi!<br />
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<b>3. Coffee and energy drinks. </b>I am down with coffee in moderation for a jump start in the morning, but when multiple cups are required, I have to re-evaluate why I’m so tired in the first place. We’ve known since we were little tykes that we need eight hours of sleep a night. My personal average is six. Long-term consequences of insufficient sleep are not good. I don’t need obesity and cardiovascular disease in my life.<br />
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<b>4. Medication.</b> The body heals itself during sleep, and food nourishes the body. We’ve all listened to the 80 side-effects rattled off when medications are advertised and shook our heads. Don’t get me wrong, there is a time and a place for medication. Other times, it may just take a few more days to let the body heal itself rather than popping a pill.<br />
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<b>5. Disposable plates, bowls, cups, and cutlery.</b> One party with a few dozen people creates bags of garbage. The amount of garbage daily collected from amusement parks, concerts, and sporting events is astounding. Think of all the bridal showers, baby showers, and birthday parties going on at any given moment.<br />
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We use an old silverware set for parties and just throw them in the dishwasher after. I’m bringing cloth napkins back in 2017. We make our coffee and tea at home and save some serious change and to-go cups. That $4 a day for a coffee quickly adds up to $120 a month.<br />
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<b>6. To-go boxes. </b>A new socially awkward thing I’m going to start doing is keeping a glass Pyrex bowl in my satchel when I go out to eat for the leftovers. I would rather look at the bemused expressions on my friends’ faces than yet another carryout box that will end up in an overflowing landfill.<br />
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<b>7. We put produce in plastic bags. </b>Whatever did people do prior to 1960? I want to avoid the risk of the migration of any chemicals from the plastic into the food. I put my fruits and veggies right into my reusable bags and for the little and loose guys like okra I put those in mesh bags oranges come in. I always kick myself when I forget my bags at home, and I’ve been known to leave my full cart at the checkout line to run out to my car and grab them.<br />
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<b>8. Bottled drinks. </b>Plastic chemicals can seep into what we drink. I now try my best to plan for my day and bring my own water. I carry a stainless steel, glass, or porcelain cup with me. Plastic is off the chain, don’t get me wrong. It was originally invented to create a material that would replace elephant ivory so the beautiful creatures would stop being poached. But there is too much of a good thing when we go to extremes. There are humongous garbage patches filled with plastic in our oceans and plastic pieces end up in the wildlife’s stomachs. The animals can’t take their kids to the doctor to get X-rayed to see they swallowed a G.I. Joe figurine or a bottle cap.<br />
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<b>9. Social media for our primary news source. </b>We are relying on a haphazard scroll through a newsfeed to know what’s going on in the world. You are what you eat, how you cook it, and what you read! Let’s bring the Sunday paper back full of independent journalism that is working to protect the interest of the public. I need to be mindful of not just settling for what’s going viral on the web, but seeking out solid reporters to stay informed like they have at The New York Times or The Washington Post. I want to ensure I’m drawing my opinions from facts. And let’s be real, we all miss the Sunday Comics.<br />
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<b>10. Online shopping with direct shipping. </b>That one-click purchase and two-day free shipping is enticing; the struggle is real for me on this one. I was pleasantly surprised when I ran into a local store this week and got a free tote bag with my in-store purchase, and I met a cool chick in line and struck up a conversation about the meaning of her tattoo that became my mantra for the day. Shopping local is eco-friendly and strengthens the economy of your community. Support your neighbors.<br />
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<b>11. Weed killers and pesticides. </b>While these quickly kill weeds and insects in the short term, what are we slowly poisoning long term? Let’s check out crop rotations from days of old and natural remedies for weeds like boiling water, vinegar, or some elbow grease.<br />
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We seem to have this need for speed and insist on intervening. New inventions have come out over the years that were touted to be time savers, and we excitedly adopted them because they were convenient (for us). Study after study comes out about how bad processed foods are for us, how we need more sleep, and how plastic and chemicals are bad. As new information came out on their effects, it was too late—we were hooked. It’s like we would be inconveniencing ourselves to do what’s healthy and ignored the research.<br />
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Despite all of the new technology to go faster, when’s the last time we said to ourselves, “Dang, I have so much time and money.” If you ask someone how they are doing, most will respond, “I’m so busy.” Let’s rethink this whole alleged convenience thing. Perhaps having to wash a few plates instead of throwing away a paper plate isn’t the problem.<br />
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If we don’t need to buy all of these convenient and disposable items, maybe we won’t have to work quite so hard and will have more time in the long run. And I’ll wager we’ll be sick less and have more energy if we cook more at home with local produce and get more sleep.amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-48804670289263384712017-05-07T08:30:00.005-07:002017-05-07T08:30:54.063-07:00Medicating Migraines With No Relief? Try This.<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">This piece originally appeared on elephant journal, <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/04/apprentice-edit-kl-medicating-migraines-with-no-relief-try-this/">here</a>.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I am now a firm believer that our body is trying to tell us something when we have distressing physical symptoms—and it is in our best interest to find out what that something is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not listening has significant consequences.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have had a few bouts with my old foe—chronic migraines—but the most recent was debilitating. The migraines were constant for six months and I experienced auras with scattered spots the majority of the day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Every morning I woke up, hopeful, searching my eyes to see if the dreaded spots were still there. I took naps in my car in the parking garage at work, because I felt feverish and my eyelids were so heavy with fatigue. I felt helpless and didn’t see any options.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I reached a breaking point, my doctor suggested I go on leave from my demanding corporate job to focus on my health. I felt shameful for letting everyone down at the time, but it’s the best decision I could have made. Some surprising things happened to not just my health, but my life along the way. I realize now that you can’t help anyone else until you fix yourself.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I wasn’t doing anyone any good by being a shell of myself.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had already tried all of the natural remedies I could find in an attempt to eliminate any possible migraine triggers. I exercised, slept like a bear in hibernation, had weekly acupuncture, chiropractic care, deep-tissue massages—and ate a whole food diet of organic fruits, vegetables, legumes, and wild caught fish.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hasta la vista processed foods and alcohol. I quit the juice (coffee) and even my delightful green tea. Thank heaven for herbal teas. I stopped eating lunchmeat—RIP turkey sandwiches. I dramatically cut back on chocolate. We replaced every fluorescent bulb in the house.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wanted the migraines gone and as quickly as possible, but I wasn’t willing to medicate. I tried medication in the past and it didn’t help keep my migraines at bay long-term. I now don’t believe in hiding symptoms without addressing the root cause.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I underwent a series of tests with a doctor that practiced integrative medicine. We uncovered that I was deficient in Vitamin D and my Epstein-Barr (EPV) virus was active. I invested in Vitamin D and zinc whole food supplements. We added in some riboflavin and magnesium—common antidotes for migraines—for good measure. By using whole food supplements, it could take four to six weeks before I would see results. In the meantime, I continued on my quest for the root cause.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few things happened that pointed to stress as the primary trigger for my migraines. My integrative doctor informed me that I was constantly in a state of fight or flight mode. My pupils were dilated. My lip or nose twitched regularly. My monkey mind was out of control, playing out ridiculous scenario after scenario.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After acupuncture, my entire body felt relieved. My migraine aura would often clear when doing yoga—and then quickly return. When I went on leave, a good friend bought me three sessions with a psychotherapist and made me promise I would try them before I decided whether I would return to my corporate job or quit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We focused my treatment plan on yoga, meditation, and therapy to develop coping mechanisms for stress. By addressing the stress, I could decrease my anxiety, calm down my nervous system, increase my serotonin and dopamine counts, decrease my fatigue, and improve my concentration.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I was tired, I slept. My body ruled the roost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Life doesn’t stop and you go on living despite (or in spite of) the migraines. I started a dog walking company that allowed me flexibility in my day should a migraine hit. This was a low-stress venture. I still got to meet new people and had the perk of getting to be outside and playing with dogs.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">The migraines spurred an entirely different path for me.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My career decisions were made out of practicality and for financial reasons. I clambered up the corporate ladder. I had stopped dreaming somewhere along the way. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my migraines were like a flashing light (literally and figuratively), letting me know it was time to leave the sensible job and move toward my purpose. That sensible job was making me sick—it wasn’t right for me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My migraines gave me the push I needed to pursue my passions and not a dollar sign.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As my leave was coming to a close and it was decision time, my decision was made for me. The company I worked for let everyone on leave go, along with hundreds of other employees. I now had a severance package that seemed like a gift to start me on my way. A thank you for working yourself to the bone. We are going to use it to travel and start a SUP yoga company. At the same time, a friend was opening a yoga studio and needed a studio manager.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The universe always seems to provide, if we just get out of the way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I redefined success for myself and it was no longer climbing the corporate ladder. I now was focused on my health and passion to help others—human and animal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I now meditate every morning to calm myself at the start of the day. I do yoga. I’ll teach yoga in a few months when I’m certified—to help others manage stress. I write. I cook. I walk dogs. I hike in nature. I’ve slowed down and listen to my intuition. I spend time with friends and family. I set boundaries so I can remain healthy. I realize I always have choices. And I’m happy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It took my body six months to heal. Most things in nature heal themselves, if we give them enough time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Initially—I didn’t pay attention to the signs of chronic stress so that I could increase self-care or address the underlying causes of the stress. If you get migraines, you may not have the same causes I did, but don’t give up finding yours. We are not our migraines; we are people overcoming our migraines.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The next time my body talks to me, I will listen. I won’t wait until a breaking point.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’” ~ Mary Anne Radmacher</span></i></div>
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amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-66834083498840664652017-04-05T14:00:00.002-07:002017-04-05T14:01:13.203-07:00We Used to See Wishes, but Now we See Weeds.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5868a-rcVg3uwgkewj8x2tPPmwPCxkTK6Yg-KUQ4sUu4eB3NP5CGhi8HWZml-JAdJifnjNA1f4FmEQLvsGJkz3zm336m8wPGL-Ka5-LNV_LJ0qLZZ0mC3xh2_rGmTkfLmVve754XnQihq/s1600/wishes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5868a-rcVg3uwgkewj8x2tPPmwPCxkTK6Yg-KUQ4sUu4eB3NP5CGhi8HWZml-JAdJifnjNA1f4FmEQLvsGJkz3zm336m8wPGL-Ka5-LNV_LJ0qLZZ0mC3xh2_rGmTkfLmVve754XnQihq/s320/wishes.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #404040; font-family: "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Brand Park, Glendale, CA</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #404040; font-family: "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">This piece originally appeared on elephant journal, <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/03/we-used-to-see-wishes-but-now-we-see-weeds/" style="border: 0px; color: #117bb8; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">here</a>.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #404040; font-family: "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; font-family: "Open Sans", Arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">“What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson</em></em></div>
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I was driving down the road and noticed a few patches of weeds.</h3>
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At a stop light, I continued to stare and noticed flashes of purple from a weed flower and the pop of yellow from dandelions.</div>
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When did weeds become bad? When did uniform, perfectly-manicured lawns become good?</div>
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And at what cost?</div>
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As a child, blowing dandelion seeds and watching the wind carry them off was always a magic moment for me. We now see a weed where we used to see a wish.</div>
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I want the wild, the unexpected. I don’t want acres of the same shade of green, evenly trimmed grass blades. I don’t want to be mad at the deer for eating the flowers that we painstakingly paid to be planted.</div>
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We spend money on chemicals to stop weeds for a brief period of time—money that could be used on so many other things. Why? Is it because we are afraid of what the next-door neighbors will think?</div>
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I remember the horror I felt when my boyfriend wanted to treat the weeds cropping up in our driveway with <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/03/965599/">Roundup</a>, because that is what you do in suburbia. “We live 100 feet from the lake where our dogs swim every day! They would be swimming in poison!”</div>
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Because the weeds always come back, and then the cycle begins again.</div>
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When I drive by wildflowers planted on the side of the road though, I can’t help but smile. There is a 1987 federal law mandating one-quarter of one percent of federal landscaping money be devoted to planting wildflowers by the highway. That seems tiny, but I’ll take it.</div>
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We could all plant wildflowers around our yard and save time on mowing. But I do love the smell of fresh-cut grass. I get pleasure out of seeing a beautiful lawn with crisscross patterns from the mower. I used to edge my lawn for hours in a meditative state.</div>
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There are other ways to tame the weeds though. We could skip the gym and pull the weeds if their existence is bothering us that much. We can pour boiling water, vinegar, or leftover pickle juice on them. We can smother them with newspapers so the sun can’t reach them.</div>
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Or we can just let them be. We can stop the judgment.</div>
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<em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">“One man’s weed is another man’s flower.” ~ Gloria Naylor</em></div>
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<span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: white; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">~</span></div>
amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-4308988405562321422017-03-20T15:49:00.001-07:002017-04-05T15:07:04.032-07:00Crash Into Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xZ2lRXz1FIspogvO_6X6YxriR9OHOyCR1WHaspNyaxYt6R61O8JEM_x0TRYYMqEOoHSmscSQrnN0_KigFvnbuOdIsf_sjfuESpBN_BkthYtfXKi3zX4XiezYVQCkXXALE3B2U6jLAe2q/s1600/wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xZ2lRXz1FIspogvO_6X6YxriR9OHOyCR1WHaspNyaxYt6R61O8JEM_x0TRYYMqEOoHSmscSQrnN0_KigFvnbuOdIsf_sjfuESpBN_BkthYtfXKi3zX4XiezYVQCkXXALE3B2U6jLAe2q/s320/wave.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nature provides so many answers if we can just become aware.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Watching the oceans waves I think about how similar they are
to life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The hard stuff comes in with a bang, salty foam flying. We
are always waiting and anticipating, but it crashes in when we least expect it.
If we are mindful we may have noticed the swell coming our way, building and
building. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the time the crash seems so long, but if we wait it too
will fizzle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two waves crash into one another and join forces to ride it
out. If we look just a few feet to the left, change perspective, there is no
wave. To the right is a wave much larger than ours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All of the waves are connected, all are one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If we look down, the wave likely left us little treasures
and messages. An unexpected sand dollar or a beautiful shell. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The waves will leave an impression with salt upon our skin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While they seem out of control, the waves are reliable. If
we watch the waves long enough, we may notice patterns like the tides are
there. They will come again and again. The waves are inevitable, we can’t
possible sustain out-swimming them. Seemingly good or bad, wanted or unwanted,
they will come. Some days the water will gently lap against the shore. Other
days the waves are in a fury and seem endless, crash after crash. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We can control how we react to the wave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Will we freeze, tumble, and get sucked under, somersaulting
out of control? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or will we look up and remember the blue sky above us? Will
we remember the earth beneath our feet? Will we stop fighting it and trust?
Will we ride it out, finding the good, heading the rush, and wanting more? </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQhw1vJ0AR2eQxSkYJPWjXeyGKA8hol25VQOMFQsFY0LhwuixzLjLNeI2VEmbr0Yw8lq3r2krYjBkJ0_wKQ4P0lhGNRlhMs1dayTpTBQw7u-ccTFGJ4AqqmeuZ7FEMxWgEbB9Ga-tKVuC/s1600/wave2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQhw1vJ0AR2eQxSkYJPWjXeyGKA8hol25VQOMFQsFY0LhwuixzLjLNeI2VEmbr0Yw8lq3r2krYjBkJ0_wKQ4P0lhGNRlhMs1dayTpTBQw7u-ccTFGJ4AqqmeuZ7FEMxWgEbB9Ga-tKVuC/s320/wave2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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We will then see we needed the wave after all. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-19483281236979019822017-03-13T12:41:00.002-07:002017-03-13T12:41:22.352-07:00Three Dogs, One Hour & a Reminder of Gratitude<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_biTwWZDEgKmdxwPSVS1fNdUs9Vl0L78l_TujpNvJUW45mBKQkgbMyHEcPRL5fCI_GzLffnHsrroA7vgfo8vl7zVZ6jD-4kz9j7Kli-GGhL-N1Jkq_SbiR_9lG28xyWJRaP0HsGcqOOK/s1600/ying+yang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_biTwWZDEgKmdxwPSVS1fNdUs9Vl0L78l_TujpNvJUW45mBKQkgbMyHEcPRL5fCI_GzLffnHsrroA7vgfo8vl7zVZ6jD-4kz9j7Kli-GGhL-N1Jkq_SbiR_9lG28xyWJRaP0HsGcqOOK/s320/ying+yang.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #404040; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;">This piece originally appeared on elephant journal, <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/02/three-dogs-one-hour-a-reminder-of-gratitude/" style="border: 0px; color: #117bb8; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">here</a>.</em></div>
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It can be easy to take the presence of animals for granted.</h3>
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Expecting to be greeted at the door by a wagging tail and wet nose. Feeling annoyed at having to walk them when it’s cold outside. Carelessly weaving fingers through fur and not consciously acknowledging every fiber of the soft texture.</div>
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Indulging in the seemingly unconditional love in our pet’s eyes. Ignoring the tennis ball or rope in their mouth as we crank through another item on our to-do list.</div>
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But imagine now that our bodies are failing us while our minds remain sharp. We sit for hours on end in the same room with little to no company. We ache for connection and wistfully remember our own home filled with family, pets included.</div>
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We feel anxious. We feel lonely.</div>
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Then one day, we look up and a dog is trotting toward us with an inquisitive look and a swishing tail. We reach out our shaking hand and he nudges his head into our palm and sighs. A tear streams down our face.</div>
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We look forward to that dog returning each month. We store dog treats for him in our room. He quickly becomes more and more familiar and affectionately licks our hand. He could care less that we are in a wheel chair or that sometimes our words are jumbled.</div>
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Any time I replay this scene in my mind, it makes me wish I had started pet visits a long time ago.</div>
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It seems selfish that I’ve had these three dogs all to myself for so long. Especially since all it took was a phone call to a local nursing home to inquire about their pet policy. Most homes only require a copy of an animal’s vet records showing up-to-date vaccines and a heads up that you will be coming.</div>
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I partnered with a volunteer organization, knowing that they could help raise awareness of this opportunity to others. More volunteers also meant more time with dogs for the residents. I learned that not everyone likes big or small dogs, so a mix of both is ideal.</div>
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I do these pet visits because I would want someone to do them for me.</div>
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The visits are a gentle reminder to value my time with my dogs and with others. My grandmother is in hospice several states away and while I cannot do much to bring her comfort, it brings me peace to make a small impact on those close by.</div>
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The pet visits are one hour out of the month. I guard that commitment like a watch dog. It amazes me that such a small amount of effort can bring much-needed joy to these residents.</div>
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When we volunteer, we don’t expect anything back in return, but I’ve found that helping others is a good way to gain fulfillment for ourselves. It gives me a sense of purpose each month and a little joy as well. I get outside of my head and away from the seemingly important drama to focus on others. The connections I’ve made help give me a better sense of community.</div>
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The best parts of my week, and maybe yours, are when someone performs a random act of kindness. When my friend emails me a link to a video she thought would help me. When the neighborhood kids knock on my door and ask if they can walk our dogs. When my boyfriend leaves a cheerful note next to my tea each morning. These thoughtful gestures bring a smile to my face and a rush of gratitude. My mood and spirit elevate instantly.</div>
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Pet visits are my way to make a difference. I can feel the energy in the room shift when the dogs enter, as if each resident is recalling images and memories of their former pets. Often times they share stories as they reminisce about dog companions from the past, and this is when I pick up valuable nuggets of wisdom.</div>
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Imagine if we all found a simple way to give back, to do something different with a small portion of our time or resources that would instill that feeling of joyfulness in others. Imagine that.</div>
amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-13938549407370021342017-03-13T12:36:00.000-07:002017-03-13T12:38:50.606-07:00Do You Know Your Neighbors' Names?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9ZqqWX0Vg-4KQKvG5SIslPxzPalxa8KVmZGeYFY2jcrSRNBzLJA_HnTrc85BK6QIYmQ10daM8RWlZPj_v2AsFbQ3SFJexo9GH4riMOAeP1hloMlODFHe4naSmybULPeBBuYIY2GLGO_v/s1600/image1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9ZqqWX0Vg-4KQKvG5SIslPxzPalxa8KVmZGeYFY2jcrSRNBzLJA_HnTrc85BK6QIYmQ10daM8RWlZPj_v2AsFbQ3SFJexo9GH4riMOAeP1hloMlODFHe4naSmybULPeBBuYIY2GLGO_v/s320/image1.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #404040; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">This piece originally appeared on elephant journal, <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/02/do-you-know-your-neighbors-names/" style="border: 0px; color: #117bb8; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">here</a>.</em></div>
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It took me awhile to figure out why I enjoy chanting an <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.elephantjournal.com/2013/01/why-i-choose-to-chant-om-samantha-soucy/&source=gmail&ust=1486767862119000&usg=AFQjCNHQskFzGDmbbhb9Z-NxtWUI47l_Xw" href="http://www.elephantjournal.com/2013/01/why-i-choose-to-chant-om-samantha-soucy/" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #ff3300; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" target="_blank">Om mantra</a> in yoga class.</h3>
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I like feeling the united vibration from everyone in the room.</div>
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We need others for their perspective and input, their teachings, ideas, and companionship. You’ve probably heard the stories of the premature twins that were not doing well, but once put together in the same incubator, against standard protocol, their health rapidly improved and they thrived.</div>
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We’ve all seen society come together after a natural disaster.</div>
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I crave that connection (hopefully without the disaster).</div>
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We’ve all had nightmarish neighbors or maybe we’ve even had brief stints playing that role ourselves. The fast food wrappers haphazardly thrown in our yards. The overzealous neighbor that gives you a fertility statue and invites you to their church within the first 30 seconds of meeting.</div>
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Maybe we’ve come home laughing loudly with friends, waking up others close by. Maybe we’ve had to pound on ceilings and invest in ear plugs. Maybe our boots have seemingly honed-in on that pile of dog poop that wasn’t picked up<span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: blue; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span>(now that’s a sh*tty neighbor). I couldn’t tell you any of their names (well, maybe their dogs’ names).</div>
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If we’re lucky, we’ve caught glimpses of community, people helping each other along the way. Neighbors doing yard work for the person next door not capable of pushing a lawnmower. Coaches taking players to visit colleges. Friends calling to check on each other. Neighborhood kids asking if we need help on moving day. Being rescued by a woman in a minivan when being circled like prey by a vicious dog.</div>
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How do we create a stronger sense of community? I’m an <a href="http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/02/its-ok-to-be-an-outgoing-introvert/" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #ff3300; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">outgoing introvert</a> and am perfectly content recharging inside my house solo. I’ve found the following tips help get me out there and learn about my cul-de-sac<span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: blue; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span>community:</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">1. Initiate contact.</strong></div>
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Rally the neighborhood to do a group volunteer activity like a trail clean up. Start a book club, host a game night, coordinate a Nerf gun battle complete with war paint and barrel-rolls down hills, or plan a potluck dinner. Challenge everyone to an excessive Christmas decorating contest.</div>
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If that’s a little aggressive, at least let’s nervously knock on our neighbors’ doors with sweaty palms and laugh just a little too heartily and find out their names. Let’s assume they also want cool neighbors to throw Halloween parties with, where they use their baby monitors instead of hiring sitters because they are so close to home.</div>
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When someone new moves into the neighborhood, let’s kick it old school and bring them a casserole in a glass dish along with their Nerf gun for the next battle. Time to dust off that crockpot!</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">2. Slow down. </strong></div>
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When is the last time we’ve sat around to catch up with friends or family and were truly present? No cell phones on the tables. Not formulating responses while people are talking or cutting someone off mid-sentence to jump in with our own brilliant response. Instead, we could ask an open-ended, follow-up question to show our support, encouragement, and interest.</div>
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Let’s be content and happy to be there, really there, with our comrades. Isn’t that why we came?</div>
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A cursory wave as neighbors drive by isn’t good enough.</div>
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I want that sense of community and belonging, the peace of mind in knowing that we will all band together and share our skills and means when one of us is in need.</div>
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And I don’t want to step in dog poop anymore.</div>
amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-36974500190698103762016-09-11T17:12:00.000-07:002016-09-12T16:03:03.018-07:00Chronic Migraines...not a Dr. Dre Album<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">How do I explain migraines to someone that has never had one?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And how to explain having one constantly, on
the reg, with an aura.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I will try. </span>You feel like a
lesser version of yourself, operating at a “C” or “D+” level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like you’re extremely hung over, but haven’t
drank in days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are now lackluster
about the things you normally enjoy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
takes a lot of effort to even talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
thank the stars (similar to the spots floating around in your vision) that your
boyfriend is really helping the team average by keeping conversations
going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have to mentally work
yourself up to have a phone call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
only want to be around people you are comfortable with that you know will not
cause any stress, and sometimes don’t want to be around any human beings at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dogs are welcome, they seem to sense when you
aren’t feeling well and don’t require a response.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meeting new people is utterly exhausting, but
you usually love to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You try to power
through because you feel guilty missing yet another outing or more days or
work, but all you want to do is lay down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Every morning you wake up hopeful, searching your eyes to see if the
dreaded spots are still there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are
more sensitive to light, sound, and smells.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Everything seems… dreary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
know you aren’t showing the proper levels of enthusiasm, but can’t seem to
change it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was walking through the
grocery store on Friday and my boyfriend Troy brought over sunflowers and another bouquet of
purple flowers for me and asked me if I liked that kind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gave him a bleak smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A woman next to me exclaimed, “That is just
so adorable!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is such a keeper!!!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that is how I should be reacting, but
all I could do was nod my head politely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You feel like you are observing the world go on around you and you can’t
participate the way you’d really like to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My sister and I both get migraines, but different
types.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our bodies seem extremely
sensitive to just about everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
reality is, you don’t always get a perfect night’s sleep, have low stress, eat
perfectly, and exercise….not too much, but just right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when you don’t do all of these things and
maintain perfect balance…. you regret it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I had my first migraine when I was little and remember
clutching my head and crying while hoping I’d soon drift off to sleep and it
would mercifully end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My next memory is
a series of migraines my senior year of college towards the end of basketball
season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember holding my head on
our bus traveling to an away game.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
picked back up when I worked at Deloitte.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I got my first aura, I thought I was going blind and walked into an
eye doctor’s office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hootie and the
Blowfish “I Go Blind” became my favorite song.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I was about 25 I got to the point where I had a migraine every day
for six months. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would pull over on the
side of the road and throw up on the way to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some mornings I would throw up into the trash
can at my desk at work, fueling the rumor mill that I was preggers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a cat scan and tried all the medication
out there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quit coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stopped eating lunchmeat (RIP turkey
sandwiches).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally one glorious
morning a coworker asked if I ever tried chiropractic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miraculously that had never been
suggested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made an appointment that
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I was diagnosed with forward head posture likely from
staring down at a laptop all day and being 6’3’’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took about a month of going to the
chiropractor (mad props to Dr. Ruocco in Ohio!) before I had my first migraine free day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I burst into happy tears when I had gone 12
hours without seeing spots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t
want to jinx it earlier in the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
migraines had gotten so bad that I barely made it to the gym.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During that month, even if I was feeling awful,
I forced myself to start working out again almost daily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dr. Ruocco introduced me to whole foods
and a plant based diet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never
before been truly educated on nutrition, I only knew mainstream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got a new job that would be less hours and
no travel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a month off in-between
jobs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started a cleanse where I only
ate organic fruits, vegetables, brown and wild rice, and small portions of
chicken and fish and I lost 17 pounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wasn’t exactly sure which triggers were mine so I tried to eliminate every
possible one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was desperate from being
in a migraine abyss for so long and every hour I went without one I was hungry
for more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I soaked in all possible
information.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the cleanse, I stuck
to the diet for the most part with some exceptions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day my migraines became milder and
milder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually I got to the point
where the ratio of migraine free days was more in my favor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The past year the migraines have begun creeping up on me
again (cue TLC).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Migraines became the
norm and I didn’t even realize it was happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I eat pretty clean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I work outregularly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am happy with amazing people in my
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I drink alcohol only socially and less
than I ever have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I live on one of the
most relaxing spots possible on the lake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
I am dating a chiropractor so needless to say I get adjusted fairly often. </span>Why is this happening? I am trying to climb my way back out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s been two months now and I can’t remember
a day where I haven't see spots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
trying to cut my work hours down and not feel guilty about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am being diligent about getting adjusted
chiropractically and having deep tissue massages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started going to
acupuncture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My new acupuncture doctor, Dr. Bishop, made me realize I am in a constant
stressed state of fight or flight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
pupils are dilated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My lip or nose twitches
occasionally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After acupuncture my
entire body feels relieved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stress seems
to be a huge trigger for my migraines, but I’m not quite sure why it is so bad
or how to stop it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have naturally
migrated to all the exercises that help relieve stress where you focus on
breathing and movement over the past few years; swimming, yoga, biking, and
paddle-boarding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems to help, if I
can just get myself up and going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
started doing positive affirmations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I get stressed about having migraines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been unable to stop from crying
randomly the past three days out of frustration when all I want to do is enjoy
my normal life, but there are these large spots flying all over the place and I
am in a constant state of fatigue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
know I am not myself with every interaction and it’s impacting me at work, with
my friends and family, my boyfriend, with strangers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure I have lost friends because I just
don’t have the energy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish they could
see more of the normal amber. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I worry
about my migraines are impacting my relationships which I’m sure is compounding
the stress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I hate to talk about my migraines (minus this blog ha ha)
because it’s the same old story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
like groundhog day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you tell
someone you have one, they want to usher you straight to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But how do you explain to them that it’s only
a “mild” one and you are only seeing a few spots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s manageable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know they mean well and just want to
help, but if I went to bed every time I had a migraine, I would never
leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I see people all the time that are worse off with cancer or
something else and feel guilty even talking about my migraines that I have
learned to live and function with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have the utmost appreciate for good health.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A coworker told me a few weeks ago that I am the happiest person they
have ever seen at work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stared at them
in disbelief thinking in my head that I was doing a darn good job with my
façade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel like nemo, “just keep
swimming, just keep swimming.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
keep doing the right things and hope the results come again, fingers
crossed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the meantime, I hope the
real Amber has enough flashes through to keep my relationships going so I can
return again to my migraine-free life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-48471688676247735402016-08-02T17:00:00.001-07:002017-03-20T15:36:52.745-07:00Unplanned Greatness<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My friends and I have a concept we refer to as “unplanned
greatness.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The secret sauce is having
just enough pre-planning to start the domino effect but not strangle the creativity
and organic outcome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">A few examples of when we have successfully executed upon
this concept and some tips are outlined below. </span></div>
<u><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Fight the urge to say no<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Rule #32 for allowing unplanned greatness into your life:
unplanned greatness cannot enter if you are not open to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you get an invite, but you were planning
on swiftly putting on sweats, grabbing your carton of cashew milk ice cream,
and snuggling up for a Netflix marathon of GoT…. Reconsider.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However can you end up at Roxbury dancing to
90’s rap and r&b or belting out karaoke at Saeed’s with your best friends
if you say no to that invite to grab a drink?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think like Jim Carrey in
Yes Man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went on my first inadvertent
date with my partner in crime by accepting a last minute invite for a boat ride
to the Port City Club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time you
leave the house think to yourself, this could be the best day of my life!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ok if that’s too much…. This could be the day
I meet my next good friend!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">An indicator that there is the potential for unplanned greatness is hearing the famous last words, “Let’s try to leave by early afternoon so
we can get home and do some stuff.” or “let’s just grab one drink.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heading back last weekend from the Lake
Chatuge, straight out of Narnia, my boyfriend Troy and I decided to stop and
hike midway to break up the drive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
I remembered that New Belgium’s new brewery right on the river was nearby. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And with that, unplanned greatness was
initiated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">After doing a consult on the best hiking trail with my
cousins, the Black Mountain locals, we picked Catawba Falls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am heavily reliant on The Google, but you
can’t beat the local recommendations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is
now a good time for my shameless plug for my cousin’s bed and breakfast, the
Arbor House B&B at <a href="http://arborhousenc.com/">http://arborhousenc.com/</a>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s consistently rated the
best B&B in Black Mountain. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Back to the hike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s
just something about a walk in the woods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Troy exclaims, “Happy Amber is out!” when we start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hike to the second set of waterfalls is a
tad grueling, but worth it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
happened upon my own personal trail guide that was wearing jeans and cowboy
boots on the 90+ degree day that gave me a hand and pointed out the best holds
on the way up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His wife was wearing
flower strappy sandals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also
encountered a couple walking their tabby cat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I can't even make this stuff up if I tried.
</span>My only regret from the day is not taking a picture of the
domestic tabby cat hiking. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well that and not
bring my bathing suit to swim in the cool mountain swimming holes. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The most memorable part of the exhilarating hike was when a butterfly followed
us down the trail and then landed on Troy’s butt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“There is a butterfly on your butt!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a butterfly on your BUTT!!!” I
shrieked like Nemo’s friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Legend has
it this is a great omen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The butterfly
started to make its way towards me and I stood primed and ready for its landing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another couple gruffly stormed around the
trail and the butterfly promptly flutter away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I glared accusingly at the couple and they trekked on, oblivious to their
impact on my well-being.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I shortly
thereafter rolled my ankle, twice, clearly it was their fault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quickly forgot my misfortune as I sipped on
a sour ale at New Belgium and we devoured food truck goodness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Everyone has a story<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you’re shuffling along the sidewalk avoiding eye contact
and staring at your phone, how the heck are you going to see your next good
friend, much less initiate conversation!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This could be “your person” and you are just letting them walk on
by!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think about all the interesting and
random things you have experienced throughout your lifetime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every single person has a story and we can
learn from them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take the time to get to
know them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I vacation I always
attack the locals with a barrage of questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why don’t we do this in day to day life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Check out the book One Hundred Names by Cecelia Ahern for more on this
train of thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At a table with any of
your friends or family members?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be
present and learn more about their story. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That text will still be there
when you get back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our framily often times
puts cell phones in the middle of the table to help.</span><br />
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<br />
<o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><u><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Picking up strays to hear more story telling</span></u><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">When entering an establishment, it’s best to appear solo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Walk in separately and have one person go to the bathroom, another go to the bar for drinks, and the most social of the group start the initiation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have the socialite sit just close enough at a long table where there are others that appear to be fun going and rambunctious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glance at your phone, glance up and try to make eye contact, smile and nod, and have a prepared entry question such as, “have you tried this ale yet?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s almost as good as Wicked Weed.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My grandpa carries around a notecard with reminders of his favorite jokes to tell. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Appear very interested in what the person says in response and continue to pester them with questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once everyone has validated the initiation is going well, they have clearance to approach the table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The socialite can then introduce the others and next thing you know it is just one big boisterous group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four hours later you’ll have secured a free CD from the band after a member of your tribe dances on the nonexistent dance floor and made three new Facebook friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Score!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of them just may be the “stray that got to stay.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><o:p><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></o:p></span></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><u>Bring the celebration<o:p></o:p></u></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you aren’t that stoked for an event or you are at an
event and thinking how bored you are… change it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be the kind of person you want to meet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can start or restart this at any point in
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Workplace in a lull?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounds like it’s time for a nerf gun or a
good old fashioned prank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example, plant
Fabio romance novels and the Dummy’s Guide to (insert profession) in their
stack of books on their office bookshelf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sit back and watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bring
thundersticks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Costumes and embracing
event themes are also a great way to kickstart unplanned greatness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s impossible not to have a good time
walking around uptown as the Power Rangers squad, in togas for no reason at all, or attending the Batman v. Superman movie dressed in your Wonder Woman costume. Go to Jurassic Park dressed as a dinosaur and shout out, "Dinosaur hate crime! That's why we're extinct!" when someone accidentally runs into you. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I dressed up
for a Madonna lookalike contest in Beach Mountain on a whim with what was in my
closet and won a weekend long lift ticket! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Make every moment possible special and a new
memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Your friends missing an event?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Make them feel special and missed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bring a cardboard cut out of them and take pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>Picking someone up from the
airport?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Make an obnoxious sign!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just may make their day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Remember all the
stuff you loved as a child or always wanted to do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Start now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Create a new tradition like a turkey bowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have a pumpkin carving contest. Jump in puddles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Get your mom to go
rollerskating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Get a crazy pool float...or two.</span></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Find reasons to celebrate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Einstein’s birthday?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Obviously a party is needed!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Make a huge deal about birthdays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Dress up like a robber and k</span>idnap your friend to go to brunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Be silly sometimes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Go crazy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life is short, live loud. Let more greatness begin. </span><br />
<br />amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1373603554946591366.post-81190656979731501992016-07-18T08:33:00.000-07:002016-07-20T02:56:04.201-07:00Surviving and Thriving Loving a Modern Day MacGyver - Offshore Fishing My boyfriend loves offshore fishing. I love the water. I like to eat fish. Naturally this will be yet another activity we like to do together. <br />
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We depart for Charleston Friday afternoon with the fishing boat in tow. <br />
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As we roll into town my mouth starts to salivate as I think of all the restaurant potential for dinner. The visions of the Charleston food mecca dissolve as Troy takes us directly to Walmart to buy fishing licenses and bait so we can head directly to the marina to catch more bait. I get anxiety on vacation about the next time I can eat again. I wander around the Walmart food aisles delirious from hunger and spot a garlic encrusted rotisserie chicken. Yahtzee! I want to note that I don't even typically eat meat unless it is hormone free, antibiotic free, and pasture raised. I head straight away to the car and start tearing off pieces of fowl like a savage while Troy takes us to the marina. This should have been my first red flag that human needs are trumped by fish potential and what I shall affectionately call "The Infection" had started to spread. <br />
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Troy glances down at my Walmart bag and sees a bunch of bananas. "Bananas?! You got bananas!?" He calls Greg and shares in an alarmed tone, "Amber got BANANAS!!" Apparently bananas are bad luck on a fishing trip. I try to discretely tuck them away back in the bag and hug my food bag protectively to my body. Now all I want to do is eat a banana. <br />
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Phil joins as at the marina and we head out to catch some bait. I quickly realize I am the low woman on the totem pole with no fishing skills like a Staff 1 Auditor trying to make it to Manager. I was in charge of picking up the bait from the boat floor and putting it into a bucket. I was needed and part of the team. After a few initial shrieks, I proudly got the squirming, floppy mullet into the bucket. You really have to very firmly hold the head (get your mind out of the gutter!). I learned how to spot bait balls and feel better and better about my life survival skills. I gently suggest to the men that perhaps we could have a more efficient operation if they unleashed the bait net over top of the bucket....just a suggestion. I gazed longingly at the cast net thrower and the Captain driving the boat performing their superior jobs as I squatted and clamored to wrangle another unpredictable mullet. After an hour or so of this process, Phil grabs a miniature net and scoops up one of the mullet from the floor. There was a net. This whole time. I stare down at my hands and politely ask for the net. <br />
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When everyone is satisfied we have sufficient bait for tomorrow, we head back to Phil and Anna's house. I walk in with my bag of food always in site and plop down on a bar stool. Greg begins regaling me with the history of the bad luck of bananas while everyone stares at me like I'm Typhoid Mary. Greg catches me eyeing the bananas longingly and shares,"You can't even eat one, because then you will be a carrier and technically a banana will be on the boat tomorrow." Never have I wanted a banana so badly in my entire life. At this point saying the word banana has the same effect as saying Voldemort in Harry Potter. Fishermen, also known as "The Infected," view it as their Kryptonite. Greg shares, "I get off work at four tomorrow. I'll join you guys after that." With one last backward glance at the bananas, I head to bed.<br />
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Saturday morning at breakfast Troy describes the offshore fishing spot we will be heading to. Everyone exclaims how they have never been out that far. Red flag number two. <br />
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As they are preparing the boat and car to head out, we come to discover the aerator batteries were dead and all the that bait I extracted off the boat floor one by one with my own hands was dead.<br />
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Troy takes me to a bait shop and buys me a long sleeve fishing shirt and a scarf contraption. "What do I need that for?" I question him. Troy replies, "You wear it over your head to block the sun. We fish all day. We don't come back in, even if someone gets sick." I laugh lightheartedly thinking he's joking. Red flag number three. <br />
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We make our way to the Marina and start the bait catching exercise. <br />
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I swiftly grab the mini net before my fellow bait scooper, Grayson, takes it. I only feel mildly guilty. While I am pleased to have a partner in this endeavor, I really don't want to share the mini net. After the bait supply has been restored, we start the voyage to the offshore spot, the one no one has ever been to. <br />
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Everyone is in a joyous mood and looking forward to the promise of fish. Anna and I joke about things I wasn't prepared for and we came up with the idea of this blog post. The ride is very rough and I grab onto Troy like I'm on the back of a motorcycle. It is frowned upon to do this to the Captain on a boat and I am redirected to the hand rails. Half an hour goes by and my hands are becoming numb. I feel as though I've been riding on a rickety wooden roller coaster like The Meanstreak at Cedar Point for ages. Troy says, "I know the GPS marker still looks far way, but I expanded the screen." "You're getting awfully quiet over there Miss Amber" Phil questions. "Conserving energy" I reply, flexing my hands and resuming clutching the hand rails. I think to myself in passing how we haven't seen many other boats and the ones we did pass looked very big. <br />
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Another half an hour later we arrive at our destination. I continue my downward spiral into seasickness. I can't describe much more to you as I curled as best as I could my 6'3'' self into a ball on a chair clutching my head. "Look at the horizon" they repeat over and over. This doesn't seem a possibility as my migraine aura is in full effect with spots everywhere. I nod bleakly and return my head to its cocoon in my arms. I distantly hear the excitement of The Infected as they catch two sharks. After what seems like a very extended period of time Phil, my savior, suggests we head to the jetties. The jetties! We passed those on the way out I register in my head. This is very close to the marina. Marina. Land. I muster up the energy to life my head and proclaim, "can you take me to an island?" Troy, "Morris island?" I reply, "I don't care. Any island." Gilligan's island would have worked. <br />
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As we pick up speed I am uncontrollably sobbing in alignment with the throbbing of my head and the steady rocking of the boat and start to hyperventilate. So this is what it feels like to hyperventilate. Interesting. Occasionally a huge spray of salt water would whack me in the face, adding in-salt (get it!) to injury. <br />
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Land. LAND! <br />
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I start to gather all necessary provisions one might need if they never planned to reenter the boat; Beanitos, sunscreen, floppy hat, bamboo shirt, towel, watermelon, pineapple, my phone, and water. That should do it. Not yet capable of using words, I gingerly exit the boat also known as the area of captivity. I spread my towel and collapse to the ground. I hug the sand and swear I can feel the earth pulsing like a heartbeat. I am still crying partly because of the traumatic experience I just endured and partly out of joy. I wonder if we are on a giant island float as I still feel rocking.<br />
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Troy and the others don't come over right away. I think their survival instincts kicked in and they knew I viewed them as my captors. I tentatively sit up and grab a beanito and watermelon spear. I feel like Arial in The Little Mermaid when she wakes up and joyously realizes she's on land. I also want to be where the people are Arial. I send a few mayday and SOS texts to my best friends, envisioning them sending me some Dramamine in a parachute pouch like in The Hunger Games. Or even better helicopter me home. Ed used to fly planes right? Angie has connections... Troy slowly approaches me. I am still only capable of head nods and accusing eyes. He tells me something about nerve endings and water helping my sea sickness and to drag my feet in the sand so I don't get attacked by a sting ray. All I can think of is we are walking back to the boat. After about 30 seconds in the water I have an irresistible urge to return to the land. We walk a stretch of the beach and I observe all of the happy people floating and laughing in the surf. The common factor is everyone is within 25 feet of the land. <br />
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I stifle panic as Troy suggests I learn how to throw the bait net. He quickly counters I can do it by standing in the sand and not off the back of the boat. Everyone is really trying to build me up and exclaiming, "You're a natural!" as I pull in two mullets and release the net over the bucket so they drop and plop right in. I am pleased I now have a life skill should a zombie apocalypse occur. What I didn't think about at the time was that I was catching more bait for more fishing by The Infected. <br />
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Art "Smalls" comes over to chat with other beach goers. I do my best to pull it together and resemble a normal human being capable of holding a conversation. Art talks about how he just buys fish. He then goes on to share his theory that all violence in the world would stop if everyone just hung out at the sand bar. Yes Art, yes. <br />
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I return to my group, the haters of the land. I hear them conspiring again about returning to the jetties. They try to reassure me the water is calm there like Lake Norman. I think about how we will be picking up Greg soon at the marina and I can execute my exit strategy. The jetties is that much closer to the marina. I warily return to the boat and hoist myself in. I look back at the happy island goers and stable sand as we start to pick up speed. <br />
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I am in the front seat of the boat and flopping around like a mullet. I somehow get the attention of The Infected and transfer to the back. Grayson reassures me, "We're almost there!" <br />
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The ride to the jetties wasn't terrible. I am feeling more human. I sit at the Captain's seat and observe The Infected start to enter the frenzy as I think through my next move. I may have imagined this, but I'm pretty sure they were frothing at the mouth. I think to myself, perhaps now that I am capable of staying upright I can try fishing. I look at the rod, unsure of how to use it. Maybe someone can give me a refresher on how it works. I look from person to person contemplating the best teacher. They all had the same look in their eyes as our Great Dane Max does when he sees a rabbit or squirrel and he blacks out with a one track mind. Troy says to me, "Baby, do you think you'd feel better if you stayed up moving around and had a job?" "What kind of job" I respond reluctantly and suspiciously. "You could cut up the dead fish for bait!" Troy proclaims as if this job is a great privilege. Reverse psychology from The Infected. I stare at him blankly as I envision the aroma of dead fish and see my skin turning green again. I abruptly leave the Captain's seat and go to the front of the boat as far away from The Infected as possible. I curl into a fetal position clutching my throbbing head. <br />
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I was just starting to drift off to a protective sleep when I hear, "Baby look! We caught a sheep's head!" Sheep? Land? No. I open my eyes and a large striped fish is inches from my face. Troy continues, "We need to put it in the fish locker, can you move over a little bit." I trudge to the Beanitos bag and check my phone. Surely we'll be heading to pick up Greg soon. 4:30. 4:30?! Why aren't we heading back. My heart rate picks up. I innocently ask, "Hey, shouldn't we go back in to get Greg soon?" Troy replies, "He doesn't get off work until 4:00, he probably won't be ready to come out until after 5:00." My heart sinks as I see my exit strategy crumble. I muffle my sob as I reach for my head scarf and resume my fetal position. I think back to our conversation from that morning, "We don't come back in, even if someone gets sick." <br />
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I hear talks of bait running low and heading back in. I look up hopefully. The frenzy is dying down. Why didn't I think of that! I could have discretely deposited bait from the boat to speed up this process. I clamor to my return seat in the back of the boat. Everyone is making jokes and trying to cheer me up. They exclaim about how I haven't complained at all. I just nod at The Infected and stare at them through my sun scarf as I fire off another SOS text to my best friends. <br />
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They begin talking about me as if I'm not there. Troy says, "I can't tell if she's mad or just tired." Phil replies, "I think she's just here, enduring." That about sums it up. <br />
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We get to the Marina and I calmly walk to the car and sit down. Troy asks, "Do you hate me right now?" I ask him, "Why did we have to stay at the jetties for so long when I was sick?" He replies, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were still so sick. I thought you were just napping. It was a fluid situation." It was fluid alright. Troy shares he broke a toe. A small part of me feels better. I regret this now, but at the time seasick Amber was pleased. Troy says, "Next time we'll stick to the jetties with you." Next time?! The car continues to spin in my sober state. <br />
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Troy takes me to dinner later that evening and I happily and perhaps revengefully (hey, at least I'm self aware) order the most expensive thing on the menu. I think about how we spent all day on a boat and caught one sheep's head as I stare down at my crab legs. I look around the table cautiously for signs of The Frenzy. I think The Infection has passed.... for now. <br />
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Offshore Fishing Lessons Learned:<br />
1a. Have an exit strategy.<br />
2a. Validate your exit strategy with The Infected.<br />
3. Don't ever leave a party island.<br />
4. Footwear is important in all walks of life (you see what I did there?). See broken toe above. <br />
5. Sometimes it is ok to say yes to drugs...in particular Dramamine.<br />
6. Start small when doing new activities. Perhaps going twelve miles offshore on your first fishing trip is a tad aggressive. Ease your way in.<br />
7. Don't ignore red flags. I always thought I was good at reading people and picking up on things. I was wrong. <br />
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<br />amberkay50http://www.blogger.com/profile/14399209938509727349noreply@blogger.com2