No one really ate out much.  Mostly everyone cooked their meals at home.  I bought my tofu and brown rice and organic veggies (that usually looked kind of wilted) at a funky health food store, not the posh Whole Foods-like stores of today.

I’m not dwelling on the past!  I just want to share this clip of something that I found kind of funny…enjoy!

JANE

So, I’m back from Africa and settled back into my life (after considerable jet lag).  It’s hard now even to believe that just a week ago, I was driving around the wilds of Botswana in a safari vehicle, looking at rhinos and giraffes and elephants.  It all seems like a movie that I went to see, and now I’m out of the theater, dazed by the  bright outside light and realizing that I ate a little too much popcorn (or, in this case, one too many ‘fat cakes,’ a Botswana staple consisting of a big ball of friend dough dripping with grease).

This trip to Africa made me feel both younger than usual and older.  I felt younger to realize that I still had the nerve to go exploring and camping in remote places, with my 2 girls and some camping equipment.  It also made me feel younger to try new foods, meet new people, and to see new things.  However, the trip also made me feel older, in that I had more anxiety about things than I had ever had in the past.  Part of this is probably due to the fact that it was Africa I was visiting and not Wales (where I ventured when I was 19 and traveling by myself for the first time).

Part of my anxiety was also due, I’m sure,  to the fact that I didn’t have my husband with me—for the first time in about 28 years!  After all, Tom is always so on guard against every possible hazard to our kids that it makes it easy for me to relax and be laid back.

But the biggest part was probably just due to the fact that I’m 58 years old and a little too aware of the bad things that can happen to good people.  While Becky was excited to see the very interesting lizard on the roof of our camping tent, I couldn’t help but imagine that lizard dropping down on us in the night to give us a fatal, poisonous bite.  While Becky and Josie both enjoyed steering the rental car through the sandy roads into Khama Rhino Sanctuary, I kept imagining us stuck in the sand on a backwoods trail, with no one to come and rescue us or bring us water.  It made me feel old to be conscious of every mosquito bite, fearing dengue fever or malaria.

JANE ON SAFARI

I have to admit it:  when our plane touched down in Philadelphia, and I knew, for the first time, that I had gotten at least one of my girls safely back on this side of the ocean, part of me breathed a huge sigh of relief.

But then, I have to remember that there was also another part of me that was ready to pack up and go again.

I guess there’s still some life in the old girl.

Annice and founder, Corinna

The 7th annual SE Women’s Herbal Conference

What a great week-end I had at the 7^th annual Southeast Women’s Herbal Conference in Asheville, NC.  This year, was the biggest conference ever, almost 900 women gathered to learn, connect, and deepen into the Wise Woman Tradition… earth-based healing, local plants, & deep nourishment.  Those of you who know me, know I’m not an herbalist but I tend to use herbs and natural products as my first line of defense when I feel something coming on.  This conference brought together such an amazing group of healers, and not only did I get to attend this year, but the organizers invited me to monitor the Embodiment track.  There were 8 incredible classes ranging from Shadow Work; Making Peace with your Body; Our Predatory Nature; and the Power of the Drum.  Let me just say that listening (and dancing) to over 100 women learning to drum was phenomenal, and these women practically brought the tent down.

What I loved most about the class was the teacher, Kristen Arant, who runs a non-profit in Washington, D. C. called the Young Women’s Drumming Empowerment Project which helps promote self-esteem in young women.  Now why didn’t anything like that exist when I was growing up?

President Obama visits Asheville

So, after an inspiring week-end, I was given a ticket to attend Obama’s kick-off speech in Asheville to promote his “Jobs Act” bus tour. What amazed me was that after living in D.C. for 20 years, I could still get excited about seeing the President and shaking his hand.  I know North Carolina is a battleground state, but hey, he won it before, and it ain’t over till it’s over.

Lynne

Our guest blogger, Lynne Roche Matthews, grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio and went on to study at Kent State University.  After college, she worked in the hospitality industry for over 29 years.  She moved to upstate New York in 1990 and became Vice President for the motorcoach tour & charter company she and her late husband owned until retiring to Punta Gorda, Florida in 2001.  She now spends her time volunteering for the yacht club, chairing the PR & Marketing Committee, and the annual Bridal Expo.  She also is active in city politics, serving on the Planning Commission and Board of Zoning Appeals.  In her spare time, she loves to go boating, read, travel and shop.  AND, she just got married this past Saturday and looks forward to many new life adventures with her new husband.

Thanks to my High School Reunion, I reconnected with Lynne after 40 years.  And, by the way, if you’re going to a reunion any time soon,  just pray you have someone like uber-planner, Lynne, running your event.  This woman knows how to have fun!  After our reunion, I asked Lynne to write a blog post about her experience locating all our classmates and what it all meant to her.  Here is her story.

Annice in 1967

I recently had the wonderful opportunity to chair my 40^th high school reunion, reconnecting with so many great friends that I had lost contact with back in the day.  It was truly an inspirational weekend after planning it for almost two years.  I got on the plane to return home to Florida, only to see one of my classmates, Annice, who had also been at the party, so we sat together on the flight and talked non-stop for a couple of hours.  It was great fun just catching up with each others lives.  So she told me about this blog she started with some friends of hers, and one thing led to another…well you know how these things happen.

When asked to write a blog for Oops50, I started thinking of all the things I could write about.  I’ve often thought about writing a book about some of the crazier things in my life, but I just never had enough time to do ii…ah yes, TIME.  That evil four letter word.  If only I had TIME.  It made me think of something that really stood out in my mind, something that I wish I had made the time for.

Reunion Fun

When I first started working on the reunion a couple of years ago, I discovered a classmate (Roberta) who lived just 5 miles from me, here in Florida.  So after almost 40 years, here we were, almost 1000 miles from where we grew up, living the good life in sunny Florida.  After a couple of months of knowing she was so close, I called her one day (it blew her away), we laughed, we cried and found each other again.

I had already found another one of my BFF’s from high school (Barb) just a few miles away, and she and I have gotten together frequently over the past 10 years to have lunch every month or two.  So we made arrangements for the three of us to meet for lunch.  Here’s where the “if only” comes in.

Roberta announced to me she had just come through a rather intense session of chemo, having a rough round with ovarian cancer.  What a true trooper she was, braver than most, and she was doing well.  Sporting a beautiful wig and her ever present smile, she arrived, nervous as all get out, but we quickly settled in for a wonderful lunch and conversation.  We did the same thing several other times since, hooking up with other classmates I found nearby (there are 17 of us here in SW Florida), and had a wonderful time reconnecting everyone.

There was to be a group dinner with spouses back in late winter of 2011, and she opted out, saying her husband was out of town on business.  And then she cancelled out on a girl’s day lunch.  Well I think you know where THIS is going.  I had a bad feeling, but I just didn’t follow up on it.  And then I got the call from her husband…she had succumbed to that evil disease in May.  I hated myself for not doing what I knew I should have done, but I also know she wouldn’t want anyone to dwell on the illness.  She kept it very private, and that’s the way she wanted it.  But it was way too soon to see her go, and I will always second guess myself for not doing better at keeping in touch.

That's Roberta next to Lynne

I’ve mourned the loss of my dear friend, Roberta, and not a day goes by that I don’t regret waiting to get in touch with this beautiful, kind soul.  It just proves that there’s no time like the present – don’t leave this place we call earth with any regrets, and don’t wait to reach out to those who mean something to you.

If only I had started sooner, I would have had more time to spend with her, and maybe, just maybe I could have helped her get through the times when she really needed me to be there for her.  I know she loved that we reconnected, and she loved the time we spent together.  I just wish there had been more of those times.  So RIP sweet Roberta – I will miss your beautiful smile always, and I’ll see you on the other side.  Dance like no one’s watching ladies – you never know what’s around the corner!

Annice

Last winter was long, cold and miserable.  It’s one winter I want to forget.  I spent months taking care of my husband (after he fell on ice and had to have a hip replacement) and feeling sorry for myself.  When Spring finally arrived, it brought my father’s passing followed by the death of both my dogs within three months of each other.  At long last, I received some good news.  I was gifted one full week in a writer’s residency program at the glorious Wild Acres Retreat Center in the North Carolina mountains.  Their website says, “The program allows individuals the solitude and inspiration needed to begin or continue work on a project in their particular field.”  And so, from Sept. 5-12^th, I stayed at the Owl’s Nest Cabin, tucked away in the mountains to work on my novel without any interruptions – none.  No distractions – none.  No T.V., no cell phone service, no internet, and no iPod.  It was just me, my laptop, my yoga mat, and 23 chapters of my book needing to be revised.  

As if that wasn’t cool enough, I also didn’t have to spend time preparing any meals, or cleaning or washing anything.  I didn’t have to be concerned about anyone other than myself.  How often does that happen?

SEE ANNICE WRITE

I was pretty much off the grid (without a car) and had to hike ¼ mile up to the main campus for my meals.  No big deal.  However, I was a little alarmed about a few things such as critters in my room and hunters on the gravel road near my cabin with their barking dogs.  You see, it’s bear hunting season in the mountains, and while I don’t want to be judgmental regarding a tradition that is centuries old, I am disturbed to know that folks are still out there hunting bears.  I mean, what for?

NOT MY HAND

As for critters, I had a ring-neck snake in my cabin which I managed to get out without killing it.  How did I know it was a ring-neck snake?  When I described it to people at lunch, they informed me that’s what it was.  I don’t like snakes, but I survived that crisis and moved on to another crisis, a yoga crisis.

When I left my house, I grabbed the September issue of the Yoga Journal  in case I needed it.  So, while I was patting myself on the back for progressing so well on my revision, I put myself in a funk practicing Hanumanasana (full splits).  Well, I knew it wasn’t an easy pose and certainly not one I ever practice out of class, but hey, I figured in a week I would make some progress- NOT.  So, frustration paid me a long visit that week, thanks to my greedy self wanting immediate results.   It’s amazing how we can find things to be discouraged about even when we don’t have to.  Once again, my mat teaches me a lesson.  I guess a yoga retreat is in order next.

YES SHE CAN!

Annice

Every August for the last four years, a group of us (women over 50) spend the day on one of the most beautiful lakes in this country.

OUR LAKE

Hope you don’t mind if I don’t share the name of that beautiful pristine lake in Tennessee, but we just don’t want all the tourists coming with their loud motor boats, radios, etc.  Even though we only spend one day on the lake, it becomes an event for us gals.  There is a core of us who embark on this journey every year, but sometimes friends drop out (usually because of family commitments) so others join in.  It’s always a surprise, and it always works out.

Why is this day so special for us women over 50?   It’s simple.  It gives us one day where we can leave behind all the demands of our families – kids, aging parents, husbands, partners, meals, laundry, and on and on.

TAKING OFF

For one full day, our fearless captain Gwen, steers our Pontoon Boat so we can  just “be.” For some of us, it’s an escape from the everyday hassles of computers and technology that

LIFE IS GOOD!

sometimes overwhelm our modern and crazy life.  It allows us to bathe our bodies in the cool freshwater of the lake and feel the chill on our skin when we get out.  It allows us to anticipate the taste of a slice of juicy cold watermelon after a piece of tangy barbecued chicken.  It’s a time to visit with each other without interruptions, and it’s a time to say good-by to summer and agree to plan two visits to the lake next year even though we all know it won’t happen.  It just is.

TOO MUCH FUN!

Annice

I’ve heard from some baby boomers that high school reunions are nothing but a terrifying rite of passage, but for me, four decades after graduation, it was a blast.

It started with the preparation and anticipation of going back.  I think I received the first announcement (at least 6 months before the event) from our uber organizer and former majorette, Lynn.  Preparation for the Reunion would not be without challenges for me.  After all, there was pressure in high school and it didn’t have to do with grades.  Grades?  That was the easy part.  My anxiety came from the lack of dates and boyfriends.   I scored a big zero in that department so why wouldn’t I feel a tiny bit of pressure?  I’m not perfect, you know.  Then, there was the issue of what to wear.  I prayed I would find the most flattering outfit I could fit this 50 something body into short of liposuction in time for the Reunion.   Thank you very much J. Jill.  

40 years later

So why would I go to my 40^th reunion?  Simple, I wanted to reconnect with people I shared my youth with – after all, I spent the most formidable years of my life with these 480 kids with raging hormones.  You see, I grew up in Mayfield Hts., Ohio, attended Mayfield Rd. Elementary School, Mayfield Jr. High and Mayfield Senior High school as did my two sisters, my brother, and my five cousins.   Oh yeah, I must also confess, I love stories and the Reunion was filled with them – stories of former cheerleaders, majorettes, football heroes, wrestling champions, thespians, and merit scholars.  There were stories about divorce, ex-husbands and their girlfriends, children, step-kids, ageing parents, dead parents, and even dogs (yes, baby boomers love their dogs).

The first night we all met at a bar which I thought was a brilliant idea.  It facilitated the initial shock of seeing each other grown up.  Understand, I hadn’t seen or in most cases, thought about my classmates in 40 years.  Well, that’s not exactly true because many of us have been reconnecting on facebook in anticipation of the Reunion.    Another brilliant idea was posting our graduation picture on our nametags.  Purposely, I kept reading glasses in my pocket so I wouldn’t have to squint all night to read the nametags and distinguish the photos.

my reading glasses

The first night, all I could think of was who were all these people hugging, and saying hello with huge smiles across their faces,  and why didn’t I recognize them right away?  Too fat, too skinny, too gray, too many wrinkles?  And of course, they were thinking the same things about me.

Saturday night was the banquet and so much dancing and gabbing and I must’ve been having a great time because I didn’t get home until 3:00 a.m. –  just like old times.  And memories, so many memories and laughs that made it all worth it  My advice, if you get a chance to go to your Reunion – don’t miss it.  Life is short.

Me and Carli

Over the years, you got to know Gus, my rescue Chesapeake Bay Retriever who passed away at the end of April.  He was often the subject of my posts because his special needs presented me with tons of engaging material to write about.  Now, I’d like to tell you about our Carli girl, our champion show girl who passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago at the age of 12 while I was at my 40^th H.S. reunion.  (Promise to write about that next).

We got Carli as a puppy when she was 12 weeks old from a very responsible breeder on the Eastern Shore.

Carli girl

She was the first dog in my marriage and we took her everywhere.  She was our special girl – sassy, smart, sensitive, and funny.  And, as a good retriever, we trained her to bring us the Washington Post (we lived in D.C.) every morning.  Then, when we moved to Asheville, her job became more involved as our mountain driveway was quite a climb.  Plus, on Sunday she had to carry both the local Asheville Citizen Times packed with all the advertisements AND New York Times.  Believe me, the Sunday papers were heavy and bulky, but Carli proudly delivered them, and never let us down.

Carli doing her job

I know we’ll get another dog some day, but we’re just not ready.   Our house is so very empty, and my husband and I keep talking about all the cute and annoying little things we miss about Carli and Gus.  When you have two big dogs in your house, their absence is monumental.

Carli and Gus

We cancelled the newspapers and read it on-line now.  Neither one of us want to do Carli’s job.

Lastly, I’d like to share some info with you about Frontline – which many dog owners using for fleas and ticks.  I took both my dogs off this toxic medication last year and started using an all natural product my breeder told me about.  I am convinced Frontline contributed to both my dogs’ cancers (liver and stomach).  Please consider Best Yet cedarcide (I use it too, for mosquitoes).

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.

Annice

There it is – I said it: I don’t garden.  Never did.  Don’t want to, don’t have time to, don’t want to make the time – until l I retire – maybe.  I know gardening is the favorite past-time of baby boomers, but I’m just not that into it.   I dreamed my house was surrounded by beautiful plants and flowers blooming all about, bordered by superbly arranged hedges brilliantly designed by a landscape architect (green, of course).

My Dream

But the truth is, I’d rather do yoga, read a book, walk my dog, work on my novel, or plan a dinner party.

I wish my house had a vegetable garden with a variety of edible plants right outside my door.  And I would love to walk outside swinging a basket in my arms to gather strawberries, blueberries, tomatoes, and watercress, but then again, I’d have to sow in order to reap.  Last year, my dear friend and expert gardener Sadhvi, helped me grow various lettuces and herbs in potted plants for my deck.  She educated me and set me up, and I’ll be darned if I didn’t have lettuce and herbs all summer long.  But now, I can’t even get it together to do that.  So, I went to the garden shop and bought colorful plants (don’t ask me what they are) and I will re-pot them and display them on my deck so I can sit and relax in the privacy of my home.

Front yard

By the way, I must also confess that my yard needs a ton of work.  I looked on the HGTV site to see if by chance I could nominate myself for an extreme outdoor makeover but couldn’t find that option on the website.  I’m so desperate.  If you know of a contest for outdoor landscaping, please let me know.  You see, I live on a mountain, so I’ve convinced myself and everyone else that I don’t need any landscaping because I’m a firm believer in the school of “natural habitat.” In case you’re thinking, OMG, I’m so glad I don’t live next to her, you can’t see my house from the road.  It’s down a big hill (the one my husband slipped on during the snow storm in January and broke his hip), and no one can see it.

Back yard

Last year's deck - will try again

SADHVI

Well, I almost stopped doing this blog since some of my friends seemed to be concerned about me after my last posts.  For those friends who don’t know it, I have a very quirky sense of humor.  I think it was developed from all those winters that I spent growing up in Cleveland, Ohio.  At any rate, I didn’t realize that ending a post with Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” would give anyone cause for concern until I mentioned the weird reactions I was getting to a long-time friend who happens to be from Cleveland too.  She said she read my post, and as usual, simply enjoyed hearing from me.  However, she did say that having that Pink Floyd song might give someone the impression that I was drifting off into a suicidal binge – OMG!

I’ve been doing a post a week for the last couple of years, so if it sounds like I am going off into the deep end, in reality, I am not:  I am simply sharing something.  Consider these posts a little window into my reality, and simply enjoy.

There are just so many things that are in bloom right now.  I love my flowers, and I love how they photograph.

Here are a few that lit up my world this past week:

CORNFLOWER

AN ORIENTAL POPPY

CALIFORNIA POPPIES

PEONY

I also like to bake, and so here’s what I made this past week for my husband, who absolutely loves rhubarb.  This tart is made from the first batch of rhubarb from my garden.  And as usual, it was delicious!  I don’t even like rhubarb but I squealed when I my first taste of this.

SADHVI'S SWISS RHUBARB TART

I shared this secret and easy recipe for this before, so I have not re-posted it.  Just enter it in the search box at the top to get it from the archives.  It is timeless and always good.

What else?  I like to take our dog, Bello, for an evening walk on the trails nearby our house.  It is so quiet, and we usually don’t run into anyone, so it is especially nice.  I wanted to share a picture of the evening light that makes those walks magic for me.

THE LIGHT IN THE FOREST

So whatever your reality is, I invite you to share yours with me, or simply enjoy mine!

Annice

Is it just me or is it because I live in NC where basketball is king that I’m overwhelmed with March Madness?  To be honest, I really don’t care about it.  There it is.  I’ve said it.  I’ve got enough madness in my life, thank you very much.

Another truth, I never even heard about it until I met my husband 16 years ago.  He loves college basketball, and all sports except NASCAR (thank God).  Come mid-March, Madness lives in our living room because we are not a home with multiple televisions, something I insisted on long ago.  That means whenever there is any kind of tournament  (World Series, Super Bowl, PGA Golf, Wimbledon, etc.) the T.V. is on and on and on until I try to convince my husband to go downstairs to his office to watch this Madness on his laptop.  Needless to say, he doesn’t enjoy that AT ALL.

When I can no longer endure the basketball game in our house, I politely hand over the Sennheiser wireless headphones (which I highly recommend)  to  my husband before muting the T.V.

Sennheiser Headphones

When I question him about all this basketball, he thinks I’m crazy.  “Everyone watches college basketball this time of the year,” he assures me.  Really?  I’m pretty sure most of my friends don’t watch it.  I’m sure if I had sons who played basketball I’d be more interested.  Don’t get me wrong, I admire, even envy the talents of super athletes and their victories.  Who doesn’t like to see their team triumph?  But two weeks of basketball?  So, I’m asking, how many of you are really into all that March Madness?

Annice

I hope this is the last post I write about taking care of my husband and all my tsores (yiddish for troubles).  As expected, Len turned the corner from being in pain all the time and taking lots of drugs to moving about more, going up and down the stairs, and reducing his pain meds.

Better Days

Like him, Gus  also turned the corner so we are all doing better.   I’m even back at work part-time.  Being home-bound with Len has been a true learning experience, and, as a woman over 50, I feel liberated enough to say, I didn’t like it.  It made me feel isolated and anxious, and considering I am a 7 (Enthusiast) on the Enneagram that was tough.  By the way,  if you’re not familiar with the Enneagram personality profiles, check it out!  Seven’s are extroverted, optimistic, versatile, and spontaneous.  At their best, they focus their talents on worthwhile goals, becoming appreciative, joyous, and satisfied.  At their worst, well, let’s just say that nursing would not be good for a 7, as being patient often feels like being stuck.  Needless to say, I have work to do on that one.

.

Being home-bound has made me realize how much I like my work.  I’m not a workaholic, but I like my work and love the interaction with people.  Friends and family asked me what I did all day during the downtime.   Well, what kept me from going over the edge emotionally was getting on the yoga mat, reading wonderful novels, facebook, and re-visiting cookbooks.  I’ve been preparing 3 square meals daily for almost 6 weeks, and I’ve never done that before.  I’m pretty much cooked out!  Last night I made an “Indian Samosa Casserole” and a Green Bean Salad with Miso dressing, compliments of the  January issue of the Vegetarian Times. You can be sure with me back at to work part-time, the food fest is over.  Let the diet begin!

Last night's dinner

Ingredient List

Serves 6

Crust

• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup whole-wheat pastry flour
• 1/4 tsp. salt
• 2 Tbs. vegetable oil

Filling

• 1 Tbs. black or yellow mustard seeds
• 1 tsp. curry powder
• 1 tsp. ground ginger
• 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
• 1/8 tsp. red pepper flakes, optional
• 5 medium potatoes, peeled and quartered (1 1/4 lb.)
• 1 1/2 tsp. vegetable oil
• 1 medium onion, diced (1 cup)
• 1 medium carrot, diced (1/2 cup)
• 3 cloves garlic, minced (1 Tbs.)
• 1 cup frozen peas
• 1 cup low-sodium vegetable broth
• 2 tsp. agave nectar or sugar
• 2 Tbs. soy milk

To make Crust:

1. Preheat oven to 375°F.  Whisk together flours and salt in bowl.  Stir in oil until clumps form.  Add 6 to 10 Tbs. cold water, 1 Tbs. at a time, until dough holds together.  Shape into ball, cover with damp towel, and set aside.

To make Filling:

2. Stir together mustard seeds, curry, ginger, cumin, and red pepper flakes (if using) in bowl; set aside.

3. Cook potatoes in boiling salted water 15 minutes, or until tender.  Drain, return to pot, and mash, leaving small chunks.

4. Heat oil in skillet over medium heat.  Add onion, carrot, and garlic, and sauté 5 minutes, or until carrot is tender.  Move onion mixture to side of pan, and add mustard seed mixture in center.  Toast 30 seconds.  Stir in peas and broth.  Fold onion mixture into potato mixture; stir in agave nectar.  Season with salt and pepper, if desired.

Spread Filling in 9-inch pie pan. Set aside.

5. Roll out Crust dough to 11-inch circle on floured work surface.  Cover Filling with dough, pressing down to make sure no air pockets remain.  Trim away excess dough, and crimp edges with fingers.  Cut X in center to vent steam; brush with soy milk just before baking.  Place pie on baking sheet, and bake 40 to 50 minutes, or until crust is golden. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

6. Frozen cooking instructions:  Preheat oven to 375°F. Place casserole on baking sheet, and bake 75 to 90 minutes, or until Filling bubbles and Crust is golden. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Nutritional Information

Per slice: Calories: 299, Protein: 7g, Total fat: 7g, Saturated fat: <1g, Carbs: 54g, Cholesterol: mg, Sodium: 469mg, Fiber: 7g, Sugars: 7g

PEGGY SANDS

Peggy Sands is not only a beautiful woman over 50, but she’s an artist that I like a lot.  And since I don’t like everything that I see these days that is called “art”, and I didn’t know that she did such beautiful paintings, I wanted to share her with you.

She paints murals.  She paints with colors that make me squeal. Go to her website and buy some of her paintings.  Or have her make a mural for your bedroom or living room.  The world needs more art and more artists like her.

WAITING FOR YOU IN MY GARDEN

Just for fun, I asked her to answer 5 questions recently, and here is what she said:

1. What was the name of the first record you ever bought?

Rubber Soul: THE BEATLES

THE BEATLES: RUBBER SOUL

2. What is the one thing you have to put on or have on that makes you feel good about leaving the house?  And, what is your favorite perfume?

It’s a bracelet I got for Christmas that makes me feel really special when I remember to wear it.  And Nina Ricci L’Air De Temps is my favorite perfume.

REMEMBERING TUSCANY I

ELAND PASSAGE

BOYNTON CANYON

3. What is your favorite comfort food?

Almonds and raisins maybe?  No, wait, I can’t do comfort food – I’m on the diet from hell to try to revive my adrenals and thyroid.

Oh, I know, oatmeal raisin cookies or Miso soup (Can you believe it? Miso? Comfort? So embarrassing!).

4. Have you found the perfect bra?

Yes! One from Victoria’s Secret, I got it years ago and I still like it a lot.

5. What’s your favorite and least favorite thing about being over 50?

I never ever think about it.  But, if I have to think about it, the least favorite I suppose is wrinkles and the body falling apart slowly but surely.  And the best is loving and accepting myself, and not beating myself up anymore, and becoming whole.

IRIS A MURAL

Jane

Now that all 4 of my kids are either adults or within spitting distance of adulthood, I have moments where I  actually get a glimpse of the things—good and bad—we did in raising them, and the things I wish someone had told me when I was starting out.  (“Oh, so that’s how it works!”)

I’m never going to write a book on the subject, since I still feel pretty clueless on the whole subject. (Being a parent offers you such a host of ways to feel like a failure at your job.) But I do have some off-the-top-of-my-head suggestions for young parents (not in any logical order, since raising 4 kids has destroyed any logical sense I may have ever had before):

1) No matter how bad things seem when your children are infants and toddlers (and you are a) sleep deprived b) at your rope’s end with frustration over ‘potty training’—I put that in quotes because I no longer believe in it—or c) ready to blow up at your child’s pediatrician/teacher/fill in the blank because they don’t “get” your kid, keep in mind that some day you’re going to look back on these days as the glorious time when you still had control over their physical location!

At the beginning: my husband, Tom, with Lizzie

2) When a toddler is defiant, try to keep your sense of humor.  Try to avoid letting their defiance go deep down into your gut where it can threaten your whole psyche—or at least your confidence in yourself as a parent.   Remember:  even if you are in the middle of a grocery store and a really patient mother of toddler triplets is watching you with mild condescension or a highly professional and important-looking person is trying to step over the massive pile of cereal boxes your child has created by emptying a shelf, and even if it is all being broadcast over the store’s tv monitor, it doesn’t matter in the big scheme of things.  Think of it this way:  keeping a sense of humor now will be good practice for later, when your child is a teenager.

3) When a teenager is defiant and insists on doing something that you know is bad/dangerous/unhealthy for him/her, don’t back down!  No matter what!  Try to remember the 2-year-old inside that teenager body, when he/she says something like, “You are completely psycho, Mom.  Why in the world should I do that?” and answer proudly the words you should have learned at your mother’s knee: “Because I’m your mother, and I said so!”

4) On the other hand, when a teenager really wants you to let them try something new, even if you know they will struggle at it and even possibly fail, hold your breath and let go.

Teenage Years: the 3 Girls

5) Grades aren’t everything, but they also aren’t unimportant.  No one wants to be the parent who is obsessed with grades, but you also don’t want to end up watching kids who are dumber than your kid delivering the high school valedictory address just because they had parents who gave them $10 for every A!

6) Sometimes your children will get a) physically injured or b) mentally or emotionally pained or c) both, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it, except to avoid falling down the rabbit hole with them.  When they are going through terrible times, your job is not to empathize, it is to sympathize and help pick up the pieces.  If you empathize too much, you either make them think things are worse than they are or you make them feel responsible for your happiness—and that’s no fun, especially not to a teenager.

7) Enjoy the time you have with them at home and try to make it about something more than chores or homework or responsibility.  Even if the house is a pigpen, play with them every now and then—and even if they get to choose the game—and even if it’s Monopoly!

Pat yourself on the back occasionally.  It’s okay, as long as you don’t overdo it and become Ms. or Mr. “ Perfect Parent,” which is really obnoxious to all the other poor schmucks struggling through.  But remember to do it when you know you’ve done something right—or at least that you haven’t botched things too badly—because those moments are few and far between and you need to grab hold of them.  They give you strength for the moments when you really screw up.

9) Remember to take time for yourself every now and then and take good care of your health.  Nobody needs/wants/or likes a martyr! Besides, if you’re just starting down the parenting highway, you’ve got years ahead of you of getting up in the night to a) change a diaper b) help Santa Claus deliver his presents c) hold a sick child’s head while he/she throws up oatmeal and blueberries d) make a screaming kid get up out of bed and walk out the cramp in his/her leg e) deal with a child’s “night terrors” without giving them a heart attack f) talk them down from whatever ledge they are on.  Conserve your strength. You’ll need it.

10) Remember that love is everything—and the best guide you have.  I seriously do not believe that you can love a child too much.  You might do stupid little things because you love them.  You probably will say the wrong thing, over and over (“I’m sorry” is a handy phrase, even for a parent.)  But if you really love them the way you probably can’t help and the way you’ve probably done since you first saw their little monkey face in the delivery room or at the adoption,  you won’t mess up the big things.

Now

SADHVI

As a woman over 50, I’m amazed at the number of products and plans to help me stay slim, healthy and young.  As if I better do something now or else I will get old, ugly and fat!

I had the “Lifetime Achievement Award” from Weight Watcher’s before I graduated from high school.  I also knew about the state of ketosis, fasting, and complete protein shakes before I started college.

I remember going on a cleanse and becoming a vegetarian in 1978, and believe me, not only was it considered odd, but so was I.

I even had the perfect morning yoga routine down in 1980 when I was 22 years old that incorporated Pilates!  Funny enough though, the older I get the more relaxed I become and all the rituals, along with the “should’s” in my head are disappearing.  And I feel good.

Lately I’m meeting more older women who become instant friends, and after talking with them for a short while, I feel like there is some sort of magical transference of wisdom that makes me smile.

For instance, I met Helene at the Swiss Club that I belong to the other night.  I was hungry and there was this incredibly addicting spinach dip that was mostly sour cream and mayonnaise.

I looked over while dipping my umpteenth pita chip into the dip, and saw Helene doing the same a few feet away.  She looked over at me and we both just laughed.

Helene told me about growing up during WWII, in North Africa, and how they had no food for 2 months and were starving.  It was a very hard time in her life.

We talked about how there are so many people on some sort of prescription drug, and how so many of the commercials on TV are for drugs that make you fall asleep at night.  She laughed, saying she has never had much trouble falling asleep.  She told me that after she gets into bed, she goes back over her day and remembers three wonderful things that happened to her, and then drifts off into a peaceful slumber.  I told her I was going to have to remember to try that; it sounds like something that could become a nice little ritual.

Then I ask Andrea (who turns out to be 72 but looks my age: 52), who was sitting across from me what her secret to looking so fantastic is?   She told me that her only secret is that she never thinks about getting old.  I found this to be quite profound!  I thought she was going to tell us about her daily routine of juicing, meditating, yoga, chanting to the One, and fasting every seventh day because she looked so vibrant!

Instead Andrea simply said that we are all going to die, so why spend so much time preventing it?  She prefers to enjoy it!  She paints, drinks coffee and eats well, but is not fat.

So maybe instead of feeling guilty about anything and often having the thought that I can be better,  I will become more aware of those thoughts, and I will enjoy life, including the spinach dip moments, because they don’t come every day!

“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.”
— Mae West

MAE WEST

Jane

I  just finished watching an episode of “North Carolina People” where William Friday interviews Lillie Sanders from Magnolia, North Carolina (July 2010). Mrs. Sanders is a 2007 recipient of the Nancy Susan Reynolds Award given by the Z. Smith Reynolds Foundation to  ”recognize the unsung heroes of North Carolina whose vision, determination, resourcefulness and strength of character have caused them to make a positive difference in the state.”

This incredible woman spends her life helping the people of her community by finding ways to give them the basic things they need for life.  She grew up in poverty, working hard on her grandmother’s farm, and she has had lots of hard times in her life, but instead of getting overwhelmed or depressed, she has  “taken every negative and turned it into a positive.”

She started in 1998 with the Clothes Closet in Duplin County,  in order to “make sure that people could stay warm and look decent, whether they had money or not.”  Giving her own clothes away first, she soon attracted donations of clothes from churches, agencies, and concerned citizens.  People can come to the Clothes Closet and shop for clothing, and they can choose to leave a money donation or not.

Photo Courtesy of AP

I have a voicemail from Elizabeth Edwards saved on my home phone.  It joins five from my good friend Lolo.  I have room to get one long message or maybe two short ones before my mailbox is full, but I won’t delete any of those precious six.  I thought I was being punk’d when I first heard the message.  She identified herself and proceeded to recount how we had played softball together in the seventies and how I had come to her wedding–and even mentioned the present I had brought. I listened rather stunned by it all.  She ended by leaving her contact numbers and putting an old friend of mine, who was there with her, on the phone.  It was her voice and his voice, but, for the life of me, I had no memory of personally knowing her. Yes, I had played on a softball team, and, yes, I had a roommate who made handmade baskets, the gift I had brought.  But going to her wedding?  You’d think I would remember that.

I had actually had two close encounters with Elizabeth Edwards over the years.  We rode on the same plane to Atlanta probably ten years ago, and about four years ago, as my daughter and I were leaving a basketball game at the Dean Dome, I reached out to touch my daughter’s hair, and this woman walking behind me commented on how beautiful it was.  I turned and recognized her and stumbled through something about how glad I was to hear that she was doing so well. She thanked me, and we continued walking.

After hearing the voicemail, I waited a few days and then tried the numbers.  She had said that there was no voicemail at her house so if no one answered, I should try her cell phone.  When I did that, the message said her inbox was full.  We were preparing to leave on vacation, so I left with a thrilling curiosity nagging me.  Then came a day when I found myself alone at our cottage on Cape Cod, and I tried the home number again.  She answered and asked who was calling.  I identified myself, and the first thing she said was, “I bet you don’t remember me.”  I replied that she wasn’t supposed to ask me that right off the bat. (No pun intended.)  I didn’t remember, but she had too many facts right for it to be a mistake.  We talked on about her marriage; she talked about not going back to her maiden name because she wanted to be buried next to her son.  She talked about wanting to sell her house and her upcoming trip to Japan.  It was an easy conversation, and we left it that sometime in August she would get that old friend to arrange for all of us to get together.

It never happened.  Right after I got back from vacation, I discovered my husband was going down the same road that John Edwards had gone.  I was such a mess that I didn’t think it would be doing her any favor to hear about my pain, and it would have been impossible to disguise it.  I have no doubt that she would have been a great support, but I felt the energy around her should be positive.

So I’ve got the voicemail, and I treasure it–and if anybody has any of her wedding pictures that show the guests, please let me know.

Nancy in College

Nancy Now

ANNICE THE ARTIST

Being a woman over 50, it’s so nice to have the ability to feel like I am 5 years old just by painting.  I’ve always loved this inner child of mine; it is fresh, full of joy, and feels the closest to what I consider “the real me”.  So I felt lucky when my friend Annice told me she wanted to make her Holiday gifts this year, and wouldn’t it be a great idea to paint on glass bottles over at my house?  Yes!

SADHVI IS HAPPY!

It turns out that you are either someone who jumps into anything creative, or you are not.  Funny enough, the judgemental chatter of the mind of each is the same.  Annice is so full of life that I was surprised when she said she couldn’t paint.  Impossible!  Me on the other hand, I just love the process, and it doesn’t matter if it’s a masterpiece or not.  How wonderful it was to see Annice go beyond her mind’s judgments and create some pretty cool designs.  We listened to some good music, enjoyed yummy snacks, drank schnapps, and laughed a lot!  Time stopped for us that Sunday afternoon and it felt rejuvenating.  I hope you make the time for your inner child on a regular basis – it’s fun!

One of my favorite artist’s is Georgia O’Keefe, and this is one of my favorite quotes from her:

“I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life – and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do.”
Georgia O’Keeffe

TA DA!

Jane

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Forget this,
and attaining Enlightenment will be the least of your problems.

A friend of mine sent me this as part of her holiday greeting this year, and I love it.  It sums up how I’m feeling about things these days.  This has been such a stressful year for so many people, with the economy’s troubles hitting people directly in the pocketbook and on their nerves!  It has made it difficult at times to feel very optimistic (and I’m speaking on a personal level)—and even harder to take a minute to just breathe in and breathe out.  I feel that I’ve been running around this whole year, chasing my tail, figuring that if I just moved faster or worked harder, things would somehow turn out better!

Well, birds are soaring outside my window today.  And we are due to have snow on Christmas—a white Christmas for the first time in at least 15 years!  Our Congress just passed some major legislation to make our world a better place:  the Stark treaty to limit nuclear proliferation, medical coverage for 9/11 rescue workers, and getting rid (finally) of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”   Too bad they couldn’t find the nerve to pass the Dream Act!  More good news:  home sales are up for the first time; teen births and our national crime rate are down.

So, I want our readers to take a minute with me and remember to breathe in and out, especially during the holidays!   And while I’m at it, all of us at Oops50 want to thank all our readers, advertisers, and guest writers for their comments and support this year.  It’s been a good year for us:  our numbers of subscribers are up; we’re reaching a wider audience of women over 50 around the globe; and we got noticed by Oprah Winfrey!  Life is good!  And we owe it to all of you.  To those who read us and never commented or subscribed, we hope you’ll take that big step into cyberspace next year and do it. To those who happen upon us from time to time, welcome!  A big Thank You from all of us at Oops 50!  In case you don’t know it, we love you!

And here is to breathing in and out in 2011!!!

Sadhvi

It seems the thought of winter gets a little bit harder to imagine every year.  We had a glorious fall, right up until Thanksgiving, and the first little snow flakes that I saw this morning are not unusual for these parts.  The heavy snowfalls and freezing temperatures that have shut down airports in Europe are.  So when I say that I am starting to feel like I need a little escape, I am not complaining, I am just fantasizing! 

A friend sent me this link, and it’s kind of neat to see where you can go…hey, Detroit, Michigan is on the list!  One of my favorite places, Basel, Switzerland, is not one to choose from, but hey, I did enjoy Ticino, the Italian part of Switzerland, complete with palm trees! You choose the city you want to go to, and it gives you a virtual tour with appropriate music.  Well, it’s a little diversion that I hope you will enjoy.

http://www.jcdurand.ca/Monde/Tour.html

Sadhvi

Well maybe I still can’t figure out what I like about being over 50, but here are some women who had no trouble saying what they like and dislike about it.  Take a moment to read what I find interesting about these beautiful women over 50…it’s good to know there are so many of us out there!

Adele

 Adele, who turned 88 on November 24th said, “The best thing about being older is that I have the freedom to do anything I want, and at anytime.  For example if I want to play the piano at 11:00 at night I can and do because there is nobody who can say no!   

 And what I like least about being an older woman over 50?  Well, it’s a very small thing but when I wake up in the morning there’s nobody to say good morning to.  I miss that.  Especially since my dog Missy died in 2007″.  

Annice

Annice says, “What I like best about being a woman over 50 is the realization that I have so many choices in life and that “no” is a complete sentence – and it looks like this:  No.   What I like the least about being over 50 is realizing how short life really is and how fragile it is.”  

Betty

Betty says, “What I love about being over 50 is the fact that I like myself the way I am, regardless!   What I don’t like about being over 50 is the fact that four decades of varying levels of activism have not resulted in much of the change I want to see happen.”   

Guitele

Guitele says, “What I like best about being over 50 is my sense of self, feeling self-actualized, and what I I like least are the changes in my body.”

Jane

Jane says, “I like the fact that I no longer care what people think about me—at least most people!  And I like the fact that I no longer have to color my hair but can just be grey.  I also like being friends with women who have been through a lot, suffered a lot, but kept their positive outlook on life.  I like—and sometimes dislike– not being noticed by men.  It’s a lot less stressful, even though I can wax nostalgic about the old days at times.  Like Yvette, I like having grown children and getting to know them for themselves instead of as “my children.”  I like being married to Tom for 27 years now.      And what I dislike is having wrinkles on my face, but I’m trying to change my attitude about that.  After all, each of those wrinkles was well earned!  I don’t like the fact that many of the people who were very important to me in my childhood and youth –whom I would love for my children to know firsthand—are no longer walking on this earth.  I wish we could somehow get the generations all living together at the same time—but I’m hoping for a “meeting in the air!”     

Dr. Judith King-Calnek

Dr. Judith King-Calnek answers, “What I like best about being a woman over 50 is that I feel so comfortable in my own skin.  I feel like a mellow glass of red wine, it just feels good.  What I like least?  Ah, vanity!  I guess it’s those patches of gray hair (although I’m trying hard to embrace them because I think women with silver hair are beautiful), and that my face doesn’t have that tight skin that it once did”. 

Priya

Priya says, “What I like most about being a woman over 50 is that being a disciple of Osho I’ve always felt a sense of freedom, but now aging has afforded me an even greater sense of freedom from social mores.   And what I like least about being over 50 is that my attachment to the physical beauty of this earth is being tested in that I know I am going to have to let go of the physical plane sooner than later.”  

  

Sadhvi

I listened to Bloomberg News on the radio while driving back from Cleveland this past weekend.  That was over 8 hours of pure fascination hearing the latest scandals, news, and interviews on the health of our nation’s economy.  I should tell you that I have never listened to this kind of news since I have been living on the edge my whole life, travelling a different path than what might be called “the norm”.   

Here is what I heard: there was talk the whole day about the big H-P (Hewlett Packard) scandal that not only ruined CEO Mark Hurd’s reputation (although the 28 million dollar severance package should help get him over the shame of the sexual harassment charges, and I heard he is actually negotiating for more!), but H-P’s stocks fell sharply. 

Then the 2nd quarter reports were in and would you believe Goldman Sachs broke a record in that for the first time in 3 years, there were 3 consecutive days of losses!!!   After hearing this over and over while driving through towns so depressed that they felt dead, what I suddenly realized was that not once did I hear what Goldman Sachs made in the other 87 days!  I have a feeling that it was just too obscene to report.  Ok, I just Googled it, and they only posted a profit of $613 million, or 78 cents a share, down from $3.43 billion.

The company reporting the most profit surprised me: it’s McDonald’s!  It seems they are hugely popular in Europe, and Japan, and then of course, the US of A, solely because of their “Dollar Meals”!  That means that more people are eating a meal for a dollar in America…is that a good thing?

There was a bit of news on Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac being in trouble, and mabye even going under, but hey, didn’t they just get a huge amount of money a few months ago from the government to bail them out of something, and are they anyway not government owned?

 By now, if you are still reading this, you might be catching my drift…I cannot keep up!

So I think I will do something that makes me happy, like go disappear in my garden for a while and commune with the flowers and vegetables.  And the next time I take a road trip, I think I will stick with my own music mixes! 

Sadhvi's Mexican Torchflower

Annice

When Charlie Rose interviews someone, I watch and listen.  I guess that makes me a Charlie Rose groupie (I rely on Tivo to get my fill).  So, when he interviews Joan Rivers about the documentary, “A Piece of Work,” I go see it.  The film, by Ricki Stern and Annie Sundberg, spans the 40 year career of Ms. Rivers.  At 77 (she’s actually 75 in the film), we see a tough broad who is not afraid to bare all.  In fact, she thrives on it, needs it, like an addict.
Watch this great trailer:

I’m not exactly sure when I stopped liking Joan Rivers, but I’m guessing it was back in the late 80s with everyone else.  Falling from grace due to a series of professional and personal blows such as being blacklisted by Johnny Carson/NBC, and the 1987 suicide of her husband/manager, she struggled to find work in her beloved show biz.

The Young Joan Rivers

Circumstances and age seemed to have turned Ms. Rivers into a comic whose jokes seemed more like cruel jabs aimed to hurt the likes of  Liz Taylor and her battle with weight.  I find it very ironic for Joan to be hassling Liz when she was perpetually under the knife of her plastic surgeon re-figuring her face, and who knows what else.  I know it’s none of my business how many face lifts this Grande Dame of comedy endures but frankly, I think her face lifts turned me off when she started to look like a caricature of herself standing in Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum.

Now, here’s the big BUT – after seeing this film, and her journey back to glitz and glamour, I actually like Joan Rivers again!  She’s one smart woman who climbed her way back to legendary status selling her jewelry on QVC, and her red carpet attacks (with her daughter) on celebrity T.V.  And don’t forget her latest gig on Donald Trump’s reality show “The Celebrity Apprentice.”  No, I didn’t watch it but I was not surprised to learn that Ms. Rivers won the competition, which by the way, meant she had to beat out her own daughter, also on the show.  Needless to say, the mother and daughter relationship is strained.  Nothing new here abut mothers and daughters.

The many faces of the Queen of Comedy

In spite of her obsession to be a star and stay on top of her game, I couldn’t help but admire Joan Rivers.  Like I said before, she is one tough broad, and she’s not afraid to fight tooth and nail to keep her dream alive.  Aging gracefully?  Not her.  Aging any way she can is more like it.

Sadhvi

I am about to go on a road trip to visit my family in Cleveland, Ohio.  I am really looking forward to it because I like driving and I get to spend some real time with my husband.   And, I find it so relaxing driving through parts of this beautiful country that are not considered tourist areas…like West Virginia!  I also like to get those tin cans or glass jars of Starbucks coffee and drink them along the way. 

They taste good, and they give me a buzz, and hey, they can’t be that bad for you since it’s just coffee and water and some sugar, right? 

Well, I guess I was wrong, because it turns out that drinking one of those Starbucks Frappaccino’s is like eating a bunch of Nabisco’s Nilla Wafers.  Now I know why I am obese!!!  Seriously, click on the link below and take a look at this article from  Men’s Health that shows what the sugar equivalent is on mine and your favorite cold drinks: I am still in shock!

http://eatthis.menshealth.com/slide/worst-water?slideshow=184612#title

What USED to be my favorite coffee drink!

Annice

For Father’s Day, I asked my friend, Judy King-Calnek to share some of her memories about her father, who was one of the few African Americans to go to Harvard University in 1941.  Toward the end of her piece, you will find a link detailing his experience at Harvard told by the Boston Globe entitled, Southern Discomfort: With quiet grace, two black men change the heart of Harvard in 1941.   

While driving down the FDR Drive in Manhattan, I was still savoring the excitement of Brazil’s first victory in the World Cup, which I had watched and celebrated with friends in a cute little Brazilian bistro in Brooklyn that could’ve easily been in Copacabana.  I was on my way to work that morning, and even though it was only 7:45 a.m., the sun was shining brightly and it was so warm that I drove with my car windows and sunroof wide open, not to mention the radio cranked up.  

Dr. Judith King-Calnek

As I surfed the pre-selected buttons to find some music, preferably something I could sing along to as it was one of those kind of days, I was grabbed by a voice I had known since my childhood growing up in Cleveland.  It was Louis Armstrong on his tribute album to Fats Waller, singing “All That Meat and No Potatoes” – one of my father’s favorites.  I sang along at the top of my lungs, not like the 50 year old teacher getting ready to talk to her anthropology students as they prepare for a summer of fieldwork, but like the little girl who used to dance frenetically about the living room, with no clue of the double entendre of the lyrics, laughing as my father laughed at my glee and excitement when Satchmo wailed, and Daddy and I both sang out, “Give that food to the alligators!”.

That song and my experience to it, made me think about how much I missed my father, but it also made me happy because for that moment I really was four years old again and my father was about to pick me up and tickle me.  Immediately, I’d laugh and laugh some more and he’d call me his “little sugar-pie” just as Louis Armstrong began to blow his trumpet. 

As a little girl, I felt safe and protected by my father.  He’d always tell me that he was going to bring the sunshine to me when he’d join my mother and me vacationing on Nantucket.  I knew he wasn’t magic, but the strange thing was, we could be having cloudy, foggy weather, and as soon as he’d get to the island, usually in August, our birthday month, the sky would clear up and the sun would come out – just like he promised.                                        

Family House on Nantucket

As I moved into adolescence, my relationship with my father became strained by typical things like teenage rebelliousness.  Soon, I was no longer his cute “little sugar-pie”.  Then, one summer, as a teenager, I began to see a different side of my father.  Being the youngest of four children, I was the last to go through the family rite of passage - working in my father’s office for a few weeks every summer, I found it  hard to call him “Dr. King.”  I remember being surprised when his secretary told me how proud he was of my siblings and me and how much he talked about us.  We had no idea!  In those days he was very stern with us.  That summer, I was not only able to see just my father at work in his medical practice, but a man of great compassion who was profoundly respected by his patients and so many others.   

Okay, it sounds like I’m idolizing my father, and I suppose that many daughters feel that way.  It’s not that I didn’t see his warts and character flaws.  I did.  In fact, that’s what I focused on for many years, but now that I’m a parent of two boys, who will someday become fathers, I’m revisiting my memories of my father.  You see, after becoming a parent, I thought of him differently, and realized that not only did I love my father deeply, but I really liked him as a person.  

Dr. Drue King

  Unfortunately, it was not until his last few months, when my father was retired and in his 80s and had lost his physical mobility due to diabetic neuropathy, that I discovered yet another side of him.  I knew he had gone to the prestigious Boys Latin School in Boston and on to Harvard before World War II, at a time when the term “affirmative action” wasn’t even a twinkle in the eye of a legislator or admissions officer.  In fact, it would be more apt to describe that era as one of “negative action”.  Yet, he had leapt and labored over many of the racially defined hurdles of the era as did countless nameless African American men and women of the first half of the twentieth century.  But because it was Harvard, my father’s story carried certain connotations, or at least more attention than perhaps some others.  

Now, as an adult and as a parent, I realize we are usually hesitant to share certain stories with our children.  Obviously, we don’t readily tell them about the partying, exploits and abuses of young adulthood.  But there are other stories, too, the kind that our children (and other people) often consider remarkable.  It’s just that when we were living them, we didn’t see them as important.  I now understand why part of my father’s story remained with him for so long.  Firstly, he didn’t consider his actions remarkable or noteworthy; he felt he was doing what should be done.  Secondly, there was an element of shame or humiliation attached to efforts he made to move forward in his life. 

But thanks to one curious journalist, Ted Gup, who is now the Chair of the Department of Journalism at Emerson College, my father’s story came to be known through this article in the Boston Globe.  Apparently it moved the 21^st Century student body of Harvard as well as some staff and faculty members who saw fit to bestow on him the Harvard Foundation’s Humanitarian Award.  The University planned a celebration in his honor at which he was to receive the award, but he passed away just three short weeks prior to the date.  

My father died on April 1^st, 2004.  He was 84 years old.  The day he died the film “Big Fish”, a surrealistic story about a son trying to reconcile the truth about his father’s life before his death, was playing on TV.  I watched it over and over again and cried all day long thinking about my dad.  His was a very good life.  He did the things he wanted to, he achieved what he wanted to achieve; he had the family he wanted to have; enjoyed his grandchildren and even some great-grands.  The day before he died he told my sister he was tired, and then we knew we could let him go. 

My father and grandchildren

So today is Father’s Day and it’s okay that I can’t call him and tell him “Happy Father’s Day” because he is still so big and so present in my life.  But, I can reach for any one of those thousands of vivid memories and relive those My wish on Father’s Day is that my sons feel the same way about their parents as I feel about mine, and that their children feel the same.  I think my father gave me a wonderful gift, which I have a hard time naming, but I can certainly feel it when I recall so many of the lessons he bestowed on me.  So today on Father’s Day, I say “Thank you” to my father.  I think I’ll light a candle for him, download some Louis  Armstrong and sing and dance around my living room.

1)    What was the first record/album you ever received/bought for yourself?

“Good Vibrations” by the Beach Boys.  It was a 45 and I bought it at Woolworth’s.  It probably cost 89 cents.  At the age of 8, I experienced the word “psychedelic” when I listened to that song.  It literally put my mind into another place.  I loved it and played it over and over and over again.

2)    What is one of your most vivid childhood memories?

The first thing that pops into my head is “falling in love” with Elvis when I was very young.  I had a dream of him and felt that physical sensation that one gets when one is “in love”!

3)    What lesson would you like to pass on to younger women, now that you are a woman over 50?

Hmmmm… what have I  learned to be able to pass along?  Well, I don’t know if I have completely got it yet, but maybe the most important thing is to try to be OK with how you are, how you look, how you react…everything.  Why?  Because everything changes so quickly, that to try to hold onto ideas of how to “be”, how to “look”, etc. are so irrelevant and a complete waste of time.

4)    What turns you on, as a woman over 50?

That’s a good question…not much!  Since I don’t have good sex any more, I would have to say my garden, painting, and being with friends.

Yum!

Oh, and a good bottle of wine actually turns me on too…  I can always count on La Crema’s Pinot Noir to make me feel something divine.

5)    What is one of your dreams for the future?

To be able to get away with my husband and dog more often, instead of working all the time.

6)    What is one product you can’t live without that other women over 50 might enjoy/benefit from?

I cannot go out without having my favorite lipstick on, and that is one by Chanel.  I have tried all sorts of different brands over the years, and this one puts me into a sensual frame of mind that I can say I enjoy…I think they use roses and raspberry and vanilla and I really like that smell.  Plus, the texture is perfect.

Thanks Sadhvi…that was fun!

Sadhvi

It feels like ages since I’ve posted something.  I had a really bad cold, and I didn’t feel like doing anything for a couple of weeks.  I also turned 52.

I had this urge to bake a chocolate cake with white, fluffy icing just like my grandma, Mabel Carter, used to make.  I never made her “7 minute frosting” before, but I thought it was high time now that I am starting to look like her!

After looking hard and not being able to find her recipe in my collection, I decided to make one that sounded just like hers, called “Wonderful Marshmallow-Like Frosting” by Susan Branch that is in her Sweets to the Sweet book.  She has a cult following, and I am one of her groupies.  Here’s what she says, followed by the recipe:

“The classic boiled frosting, pure white, shiny and fluffy.  You’ll need a candy thermometer.

1/3 c. water                                        a pinch of salt

1 c. sugar                                           2 egg whites

1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar           1 tsp. vanilla

Stir the water, sugar, cream of tartar & salt together in a small, heavy-bottomed pan.  Hook a candy thermometer to the edge of the pan & boil without stirring until mixture reaches 240 F.  In the meantime, beat egg whites until stiff.  Pour the 240F syrup over the whites in a thin stream, beating constantly until thick & glossy.  Stir in the vanilla.  Now frost the cake!

I found a simple chocolate cake recipe called “Gateau Therese” in David Lebovitz’s The Sweet Life in Paris.  This is a must read book, by the way.  The following is what he has to say about it…

“Every Frenchwoman I know loves chocolate so much she has a chocolate cake in her repertoire that she’s committed to memory, one she can make on a moment’s notice.  This one comes from Therese Pella, who lives across the boulevard from me; when I first tasted the cake, I swooned from the rich, dark chocolate flavor and insisted on the recipe.

Madame Pellas is fanatical about making the cake 2 days in advance and storing it in her kitchen cabinet before serving, which she says improves the chocolate flavor.  And the Brie she keeps in there as well doesn’t seem to mind the company…”

I actually use just one stick of butter, which is probably a few grams less than what is called for, and, since most of my friends are into gluten-free eating, I use ground almonds instead of flour.

9 ounces (250g) bittersweet chocolate or semisweet chocolate, chopped

8 T. (120 g) butter

1/3 cp. (65 g) sugar

4 eggs, at room temperature, separated

2 T. ground almonds

A pinch of salt

Try this recipe…it’s really really good.

And, oh, thankfully, it’s Spring!

Sadhvi

I tried to fax one piece of paper to a client of mine today.  It didn’t go through.  Hmmm, I called her to tell her that there seemed to be a problem.  I asked her if she had gotten any faxes recently?  She said no, that actually, she had never received one; she just sends faxes on occasion.  Well, she tried to find out if she could get it working, and couldn’t.  Too bad, right?

Then I emailed a terrific coupon to a friend of mine  from the local health food store: a pound of organic coffee and a big package of granola for free, with any purchase – wow!  My friend wrote me back saying thanks, but her printer wasn’t working today.  Darn!

iPhone

My husband rarely gets any bars around where we live with his iPhone because the service is so bad with AT&T.  But it’s supposed to be so great now that our area has finally got 3G service, and now I see they even offer 4G service – oh boy!  It never makes any sense to me as to why someone would want a cell phone with little or no coverage, unless it was really just a toy, which it is.  I had one for about 3 days, which was the limit of my patience with no coverage.  Strange enough though, the comments I got from people just seeing me holding that worthless phone were kind of funny…they all thought I looked cool holding it!

Then I get an email from a friend saying I should check out this system called EVERNOTE that says it will help me  ”Remember everything”.  Now that is a tempting proposal, but really, just looking at their web site just made my migraine worse (click on the big bold EVERNOTE link above and see if you don’t get an immediate reaction to run away.  I double dare you.)

I cannot handle another thing to make my life simpler, and that includes hearing about it either…including, but not limited to: Kindle, the latest Smart Phone, the new GPS device, getting more business using Twitter, or any of the  other new and wonderful Social Media that keeps making me feel like I have to keep up…that’s it, I think I have reached my limit!

Instead of trying to keep up with the latest s0-called technology, I am going to go back to what I enjoy the most: recipes and gardening.  And being curious about other people…maybe I will start to interview my interesting friends and family for a while.

Now excuse me, I have to go through the emails that came in while I was writing this post before they build up to the point where it becomes my new part-time job.

Giuseppe replied to the assembled husbands,  “Wella, I’ve a-tried to treat-a her nicea, spenda da money on her, but besta of alla is, I tooka her to Italy for the 25th anniversary!”

The priest responded, “Giuseppe, you are an amazing inspiration to all the husbands here!  Please tell us what you are planning for your wife for your 50th anniversary?”

Giuseppe proudly replied, “I’m a gonna go get her.”

Or that my brain is too full, trying to remember who only gets email at their home address, or who only answers text messages, or who doesn’t get cell phone coverage on their iPhone to even get their emails or messages? Or even, who doesn’t respond to anything any more! It’s funny, in this age where the whole hype of social media, and how to be connected is all that people talk about–as if it’s a game to see who has the “latest” gadget–I am becoming more and more disinterested in staying in touch with “friends”.

The truth is, FaceBook was ok when I had a hundred or so friends, but now that I have almost 300, I cannot keep up with what is happening with them all. And frankly, I don’t even care.

I don’t think I will be getting a smart phone any time soon. I really don’t want to take pictures with my phone: I have a really good digital camera that works fine. And I don’t want to type emails to anyone with that ridiculously small keypad. I have a computer with a keyboard the size that I have been typing my whole life on and feel comfortable with. Why change if I am fine with what I have? And why would I want to send and receive text messages? If I want to chat with someone, I can email, pick up the phone, or if I really want to take a little vacation from my day, I can actually sitdown and write a letter or send one of the many beautiful cards I have collected over the years, or even one of my own hand-painted cards.

Here is a little clip for those that dare see where we are going, or should I say, where some people are going – because I may just stay where I am, with the technology that I have.

P.S. Oh, if you feel like it, I would really like to know where YOU are with all that is available to us and costs a small fortune, I might add! Are you trying to keep up? Have you decided that you are ok with just a computer and a cell phone too?

A Preacher was explaining that he must move on to a larger congregation that will pay him more.

There is a hush within the congregation.

No one wanted him to leave.

Joe Smith, who owns several car dealerships in the City stands up and proclaims,

“If the Preacher stays, I will provide him with a new Cadillac every year, and his wife with a Honda mini-van to transport their children!”.

The congregation sighs in relief and applauds.

Sam Brown, a successful entrepreneur and investor, stands and says,

“If the Preacher will stay on here, I’ll personally double his salary, and also establish a foundation to guarantee the college education of all his children!”.

More sighs and loud applause.

Sadie Jones, age 88, stands and announces with a smile,

“If the Preacher stays, I will give him sex!”.

There is total silence.

The Preacher, blushing, asks her, “Mrs. Jones, whatever possessed you to say that?”.

Sadie’s 90 year-old husband Jake is now trying to hide, holding his forehead with the palm of his hand, and shaking his head from side to side, while his wife replies,

“Well , I just asked my husband how we could help, and he said,  ”Screw him”!

May the Being of the Universe

breathe into you the light of blessing and ripeness,

the fulfillment of health and balance.

May it protect you from

distractions brittle and bent

with a sphere of lucid fire.

May it enlighten

the heart of your passion

with the contemplation of living energy.

May it uncover the

hidden strength within you,

insight gathered from the eternal now.

And may it show you its face

of secret grace and silent refuge

in a communion of deep peace.

(Translated from Hebrew by A.M. Habermann

 from the Qumran (Dead Sea) Community around 100 B.C.E)

Happy Holidays from all of us at Oops50!

Please accept with no obligation, implied or explicit, our best wishes for
an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress,
non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday,
practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion
of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the
religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice
not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

We also would like to wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2010, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. 

Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere.  Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee.

To Our Conservative Friends:

 Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah and a Happy New Year!

These three old ladies and their dogs were sitting on a park bench having a quiet conversation when a flasher approached from across the park.

The flasher came up to the ladies, stood right in front of them and opened his trench coat.

Gertrude immediately had a stroke.

Then Maude also had a stroke.

But Tillie, being older and more feeble, couldn’t reach that far.

The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leaned out the window and asked the cowboy, “If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?”

Bud looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, “Sure, why not?”

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his iPhone, and brings up Google Earth to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.

The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany.

Within seconds, he receives an email verification that the image has been processed and the data stored.

He then prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized printer, turns to the cowboy and says, “You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves.”

Bud says, “That’s right, well, I guess you can take one of my calves”.

He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on with amusement as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.

 Then Bud says to the young man, “Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?”

The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, “Okay, why not?”

“You’re a Congressman for the U.S. Government”, says Bud.

“Wow!  That’s correct,” says the yuppie, “but how did you guess that?”

“No guessing required”, answered the cowboy.  “You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked.  You used latest technical equipment trying to show me how much smarter you are than me, and you don’t know a thing about how working people make a living – or about cows, for that matter.  This is a herd of sheep…

Now give me back my dog!

Sadhvi

Ok, it’s fall, and it’s time to start letting go of the past.  That includes the memories of my summer garden and flowers.  I have aired out my woolen sweaters and will do my final garden planting next week.  I bought some “end of the season” deals at a local greenhouse…some Oriental Poppies and some Blue Veronica for $1 a pot!  I cleaned out my car and did some detailed deep cleaning; the furnace is serviced; the oil tank is full.  My Swiss husband will start roasting chestnuts next week,  and that, my dear reader, brings me to the reason I can say, without any hesitation, that I know I will make it through fall and winter: yes, freshly roasted chestnuts!  As long as I can remember, I have felt more than a wee bit melancholic about the prospect of cold, damp and cloudy days.  Growing up in Cleveland, I felt that winter was something that one simply endured.  There was not much sun; clouds were hanging low for weeks on end, and then there was the bitter cold and wind.  I felt quite some comfort in the fact that we were all in it together.  Why, even today I feel a certain compassion and kinship for anyone from the Northeast.  And living in the German-speaking part of Switzerland meant that, for us,  the winters were worse than the ones in Cleveland, with a cold dampness that seemed to go right to the bone.  I am even starting to feel uncomfortable just writing about it!  So, to help those that have the long fall and winter months to look forward to, I will start sharing in next week’s “Sadhvi Sez” what I know about chestnuts: my secret cure against the fall and winter blues.  Until then, start humming…and think spring!

30% of women think their ass is too fat

10% of women think their ass is too skinny

The remaining 60% say they don’t care:  they love him, he’s a good man, and they wouldn’t trade him for the world.

The wife glares at her husband and says, “Who the hell was that?”

“Oh,” replies the husband, “she’s my mistress.”

“Well, that’s the last straw,” says the wife. “I’ve had enough, I want a divorce!”

“I can understand that,” replies her husband, “but remember, if we get a divorce it will mean no more shopping trips to Paris , no more wintering in Barbados, no more summers in Tuscany, no more BMW in the garage and no more yacht club. But, the decision is yours.”

Just then, a mutual friend enters the restaurant with a gorgeous babe on his arm.

“Who’s that woman with Melvin?” asks the wife.

“That’s his mistress,” says her husband.

“Ours is prettier,” she replies.

Sadhvi

Welcome to Oops50 and this week’s Sadhvi Sez!  Now that you know how to make the Swiss Pie Crust from last week’s column, here is my recipe for what goes inside.

The filling is practically the same for sweet or savory tarts, and the pie crust is exactly the same.  I know there is so much going on these days, and most of us just cannot do everything that we want.  But one of these days, you might want to try this tart.  It’s one of those recipes that is just so versatile, and once you do it a couple of times, it is easy.

I just read what the Joy of Cooking has to say about pie crusts & tarts, and it made me want to close the book immediately.  Really, I won’t do something these days unless it is easy.  Give it a try and let me know how it turns out!

The Filling for Sadhvi’s Swiss Tart

Get the following ingredients ready:

• whole hazelnuts or almonds or walnuts  chopped up, maybe a cup, enough to cover the bottom of the tart
• 1-1.5 cups of organic half and half poured into a pyrex glass
• 2 eggs whisked into mixture.  Add a bit of vanilla and sugar if you are making a sweet tart.  I also grind some sea salt, just a bit, into this.

Now take the tart crust out of its parchment paper and roll it out to a size fitting your pan.  You may have to work with it a bit to form it.  Preheat oven to 425 F.  Poke the bottom all over with a fork.  Add the chopped nuts on the bottom,  arrange fruit (I like apples or pears the best) or vegetables (if you are making a savory tart) nicely, and pour the mixture over nuts and fruit or vegetables.  Bake in oven for about 40 min. Take a look and sprinkle some brown sugar on top (if sweet) or some grated swiss cheese (if savory).  Enjoy!

Hello, and welcome to my first post on the Oops50 blog.  My name is Sadhvi, and I want to share secret recipes, things that are useful, and things that make me happy.
At this time of year, something that will make me happy very soon is one of my favorite flowers, the poppy!

I have hundreds of them that are getting ready to open.  And I can’t wait.  Even saying their names (like “Early Grey” and “Watermelon”) makes me smile.

I love looking at poppies.  Maybe it’s because they are so shy and unassuming before they open up.  I almost don’t even see the buds!  Maybe it’s because they don’t last for long.  Or maybe it’s because each one makes me stop and be filled with wonder and awe.

The anticipation is a wonderful experience…that’s the great aspect of planting from seed!  I like to take pictures of my poppies so that when I share the seeds with family and friends, they know what to expect.

These wonderful flowers are so special that everyone should have some in their garden.  Like any flower or living thing, if you give them what they need, they will flourish.
Here is a site where you can order your seeds.  Julia is the owner, and she loves poppies the way I do. Take a look at her site and her fantastic assortment and start your own poppy collection in your garden!

http://www.OneStopPoppyShoppe.com

“Dear Madam,
Enclosed please find check in the amount of $250 for rent of your apartment.  I am not sending the amount agreed upon because when I rented the place I was under the impression that, first of all, it had never been occupied before and,  secondly, that there was plenty of heat, and thirdly, that it would be small enough to make me feel cozy and at home.  Instead, I found out that it had been previously occupied, that there wasn’t enough heat, and that it was entirely too large.”

Upon receipt of the note, the woman immediately returned the check for $250 with the following note:

“Dear Sir,
First of all, I cannot understand how you could expect a beautiful apartment to remain unoccupied indefinitely.  As for the heat, there is plenty of it, if you know how to turn it on.

Regarding the space, the apartment is indeed of regular size, but if you don’t have enough furniture to fill it, please do not blame the management.  Please send the rent in full, or we will be forced to contact your present landlady.”