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    Archive for July, 2011


    Sadhvi Sez: Stay Cool with Clara’s Italian Ice!

    Friday, July 29th, 2011

    SADHVI

    It’s been really hot on the eastern side of the US.  Or maybe it’s just a long hot flash?  Either way, I haven’t felt like doing much cooking in the evening lately.  So I try to take it easy and make simple things for dinner, like cold beet salad (I LOVE BEETS!) with fresh goat cheese and something from the garden, like dill.  I have a feeling that everyone has their own recipe with their own memories from their grandma or mother making it, so I won’t post mine.  You do know that I really don’t follow any recipes anyways, right?  And that it’s too hot for me to prepare dinner AND write down what I’m doing?

    Oh, and by the way, if you happen to be living on the western coast of the States, where it’s been cold, well, you can still make fresh steamed or juiced beets – beets are so good for you.  Didn’t Dr. Oz talk about them recently?

    But here is a recipe from Clara, who is almost taking the place of Oprah.  I find this woman fascinating!  She’s lived through the depression, and she looks terrific!  She has her own website, and her own book.  Maybe everyone but me knows about Clara, but if you are not familiar with her, take a few moments to watch her in action.  I think you’ll agree, she’s a treasure.

     

    P.S. Thanks Garima for sharing!

    Stay Cool,

    Sadhvi

    Great Product for Women over 50: Sleep Aid

    Friday, July 29th, 2011

    Jane

    Great Products for Women over 50:  Sleep Aid

    I don’t usually give plugs, but today I am singing the virtues of Sleep Aid.

    Background:

    For the past five to six years, I have had trouble staying asleep.  No problem with getting to sleep:  I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, usually with my glasses still on my nose and words still tumbling out of my mouth.  (Tom loves talking to me in bed at night:  it’s a special time for us.) But then I wake up at 3 a.m. or so—always close to 3—with my thoughts racing—and a horrible, overwhelming feeling of despair.  I try to go back to sleep, but I usually find that I can’t, since 1) I am a terrible mother 2) Tom and I are utter failures at being successful grown-ups 3) my children will live in places close to the coast and they will drown under the ocean that is rapidly rising due to global warming or 4) nuclear war will obliterate us all—including every last trace of anything that anyone, even Shakespeare, ever created—and the lone and level sands of “Ozymandias” will stretch far away.

    sleepaid

    So, I usually give up and bound out of bed, thinking that since I can’t sleep, I might as well do something productive, like start tackling War and Peace or folding the five weeks of unfolded laundry or putting pictures in photo albums—all of which leads me, in a panic about not getting 8 good hours of sleep, to lie down on the couch in front of the tv and watch animal rescue stories or interviews with slimy doctors giving sex advice—which depresses me again and validates my worst fears about the future of our civilization.

    So, I haven’t been too happy about this state of affairs—especially since it has often resulted in my head banging down on my desk at work at about 2 p.m., typing an endless row of b’s and v’s (this seems to be where my forehead connects most often with my keyboard).   It’s a miserable condition.

    Until recently, I just figured this was my lot in life, since I am apparently one of those women that hits menopause and never sleeps through the night again.  It seemed like a logical tradeoff for never having hot flashes.  When I wasn’t blaming it on menopause, I couldn’t help but see it as a consequence of all those nights of interrupted sleep from getting up with babies and young children—but this kind of thinking was not helpful.  It just made me bitter and twisted thinking about my friends who didn’t have children—and how their faces look so relaxed and unwrinkled at this age.  Better to blame menopause, since it comes to everyone.

    In any case, I thought I just had to grin and bear it—another pleasant little surprise on my womanly journey through life that men like my soundly sleeping husband would–bless their little deprived hearts—never get to experience.

    Sort of like childbirth.

    Then, my wonderful friend, Maggi, told me about Sleep Aid.

    I realize this blogpost is sounding like a commercial.  Too bad.  I can’t help it:  I love this product!  I worship it!  It has changed my life!  And—at least according to my limited research (their website)—it is neither harmful nor dangerous!

    Here’s how it works:  I pop one in, right before getting into bed at night, and then I sleep.  I actually sleep.  I don’t wake up at 3 a.m.  I don’t even wake up at 5 when our 11-year-old dog barks her fool head off at the paper boy.  I just sleep, blissful and oblivious.

    I do have some knowledge of the product.  I can tell you that is a mild antihistame that you can buy off the shelf at Sam’s Club—I’m sure there must also be a version (probably with a different name) at your local drugstore.

    But here’s the best part:  it doesn’t work like a sleeping pill.  So you don’t wake up groggy.  Or drugged.  You  just feel rested—and ready to take on anything.

    So, if anyone out there knows of any potential long-term side effects, please let me know.

    Or not.

    Ask Johanna: Dating After 50

    Wednesday, July 27th, 2011

    Dear Johanna, 

    I’m a 51-year-old woman who has not dated for at least 10 years, since I’ve been so busy raising my son (I’m a single mom).  He’s now heading off to college, and I’m wondering how to go about getting back into the dating scene.  I’m feeling pretty out-of-it, since I haven’t done anything like this in so long.  Any suggestions?

    Rusty in Roxbury

     

    Dear Rusty,

    I’d say it depends on what you are looking for.  If you just want to go out and have a few good meals paid for by someone else and you don’t care if what you end up with in the bargain is a guy who 1) plagues you for advice on how to win back his ex-wife or 2) talks all night about all of  his unsuccessful investment schemes (“But this one is going to work. I can feel it.”) or 3) describes how great his mother’s bread pudding is, down to the last raisin-filled bite,  which, by the way, he polished off at the house he shares with his mother before coming to take you out, then I’d say try Match.com.  If nothing else, you can end up with some doozies to entertain girlfriends with over coffee.  But if you are really interested in meeting an interesting man, do what my friend, Sadhvi, says and go do things you enjoy doing: volunteer in a political campaign, learn to ballroom dance, attend lectures at your local university.  If the activity is interesting, at least you won’t feel like you’ve wasted an evening. But I don’t know about her bowling suggestion, since I’ve never been too crazy about the guys who hang out in bowling alleys.  Maybe the best idea would be to hang out in the lobby at a therapist’s office, since a lot of men over 50 are probably inside on the couch. (more…)

    Words with Friends

    Monday, July 25th, 2011

    Annice

    Like you, when I wake up in the morning, I have my rituals.   Ialso take great pleasure in them.  I have a short routine because I spend my day at a  9-5, but it doesn’t diminish the virtues of those rituals.

    Me and Carli

    My dog, Carli, wakes me up every morning  (now that Gus is gone) and while she’s out doing her business, I sprinkle a little fish food in the aquarium for the rainbows.  Carli hurries right back because she knows her breakfast is waiting  – ½ cup of dry food, 2 Tbs. of wet food (now that she’s 12) and a few spoonfuls of some sort of green vegetables.  This week it’s broccoli.

    Then, it’s all about me.  I make a mug of fresh roasted coffee and take my place in the on the living room sofa before I reach for my iPhone to play Words with Friends.

    Word with Friends app

    Yes – I admit to playing an electronic game on my phone and I admit it’s one of my guilty pleasures, so is unleashing my competitive spirit. I play with my dear friend and yoga teacher, Cindy – and let me tell you, this yogi plays a mean game of scrabble.  She wins more than me, but like I’ve said to her, “Sometimes, life just gives you all consonants.”

    We’re not the only ones who play.  It seems millions are addicted to this word building, triple score seeking, instant chatting Words with Friends.  However, Cindy and I are not addicted.   We play once a day (me in the mornings, Cindy in the evenings) and a game can last us weeks.   What I love best about playing scrabble this way is how it actually makes me feel like I’m with my friend.  I know that sounds crazy, especially since I’m not a gen xer, but a baby boomer, but believe me, there is a connection through words.  I felt it most when my dad died last April, and I was staying in Cleveland for a couple weeks.  Every morning, I  looked forward to firing up the app just to connect with Cindy and play our little scrabble game.  It allowed me to continue with part of my ritual when I needed it most.

    Amazingly, this scrabble-like app has over 1.6 million daily users, and I see why.   You can boot up the app and be in a game in just seconds.  In case you’re wondering, there’s no Facebook application or web presence of any kind, so you have to make all of your moves from an iPhone or iPad. And the game isn’t available on any other mobile platforms like Android.

    Women Elder Sharing Romance Tips: Finding Mr. Right

    Sunday, July 24th, 2011

    SADHVI

    I wanted to share my secret to eternal youth this week, but I couldn’t think of one.  Then I thought I could let you in on how at the age of 53, I’ve invested wisely and am now retired, except that this is not the case.

    So instead I’m going to share something that I think is pretty interesting.  I was looking at the data collected from GoogleAnalytics, a free service from Google that shows which key words people are punching into their search boxes, and how many of them there are.  What I discovered is that the majority of people using the web are trying to find their perfect mate!  Uh oh, wait!  I think that also includes porn sites.  Geez.  I shouldn’t be surprised, since just about all of my single friends use online dating these days.  I even have friends who tell me, “I’ve got to find time to get on Match.com!”.

    If only they realized that their type of “Mr. Right” is not anywhere but between the pages of a book.  Because having been in a relationship for over 25 years with the same partner, I can attest that it ain’t like what these single friends are yearning for.  It is not necessarily bad, it just isn’t romance every day!

    MR. RIGHT THERE ALL ALONG

    If I were looking, I definitely wouldn’t look for a potential relationship online!  They pick the picture themselves and they write things that make them appear like they are auctioning themselves off on the block!

    If I were looking for love, I would join a tango class, or a bowling league, or maybe just go the library and get some Harlequin romance novels and drift away in a comfortable chair.  Or just order online at my favorite book site: Better World Books.  A much better company than Amazon to support, by the way.

    Here’s a quote from a summer read that I recently picked up (no pun intended).  Let me know if you agree with me that reading about romance might be better than an actual relationship.  It’s cheaper. There is no compromise.  When your heart gets broken, vicariously of course, it will be better by the end of the book.

    Enjoy!

    Sadhvi

    He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow and guided me into a room – his room.

    Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone.  He approached me soundlessly, from behind

    and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear,

    “Just relax.”

    Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong,
    calloused hands start at my ankles – gently probing and

    moving upward along my calves – slowly, but steadily.

    My breath caught in my throat.

    I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn’t care.

    His touch was so experienced, so sure.

    When his hands moved onto my thighs, I gave a slight
    shudder and partly closed my eyes.

    My pulse was pounding.

    I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage.

    And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands,

    I inhaled sharply.

    Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted – he brought

    his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.

    Although I knew nothing about this man – I felt oddly trusting and expectant.

    This is a man, a man used to taking charge.

    A man not used to taking ‘no’ for an answer.

    A man who would tell me what he wanted.

    A man who would look into my soul and say,

    “Okay ma’am – you can now board your flight!”.

     

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