How's About a Brawny Brain?

Thought for the day:  When I was younger, I looked forward to getting up early every morning to exercise. Nowadays, getting out of bed in the morning pretty much IS my exercise.

Remember the Charles Atlas ads that used to appear in the back of comic books? According to good ol' Wikipedia, the ad shown here is from about 1949,  but the ones I remember best featured 98-pound weakling Mac, who was forever getting sand kicked in his face at the beach. Poor guy. The ads promised to turn Mac and every other skinny boy in America into a muscle-bound chick-magnet. (That's what boys all over America read between the lines, anyhow.) All they had to do was buy the kit, follow the directions, and bada-boom, bada-bing,  they'd develop abs of iron and buns of steel.

I really don't think I need buns of steel. I'd be happy with buns of cinnamon...  [Ellen DeGeneres]

Yeah. What Ellen said.

Not that I'd mind having a sleek body again, but I don't know how much exercise I'm willing to do to get it back. I mean, we bought a membership in a really nice gym a couple years ago. Spent almost five hundred bucks on it, too, and I still haven't lost any weight. (sigh) What can I say? Apparently, you have to actually show up at the place. Wouldn't you think spending all that money would be good for a pound or two...? Oh well. Doesn't really matter. At my age, I'm more concerned about having a fit brain. Having a fit brain is much more important to me than having a twenty-two inch waist.

 I don't recall ever seeing any ads in the back of comic books offering a kit to help us beef up our gray matter, but it sure would be nice if there were a way to keep our brains in shape so they can continue to do the heavy lifting throughout our lifetimes, wouldn't it?

There IS a way! Lots of 'em. Reading, of course. Stimulating conversation.

I consider conversations with people to be mind exercises, but I don't want to pull a muscle, so I stretch a lot. That's why I'm constantly either rolling my eyes or yawning.  [Jarod Kintz]

No, I mean stimulating conversation. Fun conversation. Laughter.

And of course, games and puzzles. Now, I'm not talking Candy Land, although it can be fun to play that one with the grandchildren. I'm talking about games and puzzles that make you t-h-i-n-k.

Think 1-2-3-4-hold... and stop. And again... think! 1-2-3-4- hold... and stop. Think harder! Dig down deep and feel the brain...

It's never too late for us to form new pathways in our brains, ya know. We've just gotta stimulate them, and get the blood pumping.

To keep our brains in good shape, we've gotta USE 'em. Challenge them. Phyllis Diller said her idea of exercise was a good brisk sit. (Sounds good to me...) But there's no reason she (we) couldn't engage in some mental calisthenics at the same time.

I've always liked to play games and work puzzles, simply because I think they're FUN, but now? I still think of them as fun, but I also recognize them as a possible way to stick a proverbial finger in the dike to maybe slow down the aging of my mind.

So you can imagine how intrigued I was by one of the books offered to me by the folks at

Part of this book's blurb asks, Want to get your frontal lobe breaking a sweat? Make your blood pump to your cerebellum? Stretch your occipital lobe to its limits?

Heck, yeah! (Especially if I can do it while enjoying a nice brisk sit...)

The book is called Bend Your Brain, and while my brain is already bent enough, thankyouverymuch, the promise of stimulating my gray matter... while having some fun... was too much for me to resist.

Created by some of the keen-minded puzzle-makers of Marbles: the Brain Store, the different types of puzzles compiled in this book are intended to target specific parts of the brain... and make them stronger. Puzzles are divvied up into categories of visual perception, word skills, critical thinking, coordination, and memory, so there's plenty of variety from which to choose. Some fairly familiar ones, and some brand new and rather innovative.

So what did I think? I thought some of the puzzles were too easy, especially the ones meant to develop word skills. (But that's probably my strong suit.) I thought some of the images were difficult to decipher, but through process of elimination, they eventually became apparent. I must admit, I skipped some of the puzzles altogether. Like the ones involving standing in front of a mirror and following directions to form a letter. Um... I generally avoid standing in front of mirrors. (It's much easier to maintain my illusions that way.) But I did form the letters mentally... (Just as good, right?) Some of the puzzles, I thoroughly enjoyed. Some simply weren't for me. (It's impossible to identify celebrities by a single facial feature unless you're actually familiar with the celebrity. Seeing the whole face wouldn't have helped me.)

But bottom line? I enjoyed the book. It was fun. If it also stimulated my brain while I was having fun, I'm all for it. Yep, I'd recommend it. For sure. And you know? I think it actually helped my brain grow, too. Smarticus called me a fathead the other day. Nice of him to notice...

For more information on this mind-bending book, see here
For more info about the minds behind the puzzles, see here

NOTE: I received this book for free from the fine folks at Blogging for Books in exchange for writing an honest review.

~~~~~~~~

The only reason I would take up jogging is so I could hear heavy breathing again.  [Erma Bombeck]

The trouble with jogging is that by the time you realize you're not in shape for it, it's too far to walk back.  [Franklin Jones]

Whenever I feel like exercising, I lie down until the feeling passes.  [Robert Hutchins]

You know what? One of the best things you can do for your brain is... exercise. Honest-to-goodness physical exercise...

Crap.

~~~~~

The lovely author Carole Kilgore has been running some very cool contests on her website for the past few months. Month-long contests in which she gives stuff away. Good stuff. Books and other goodies. This month, the author she's featuring is... me! If you go to her spiffy tiki hut and click on the contest button in the sidebar, you can see what it's all about. All it takes is a simple response to the question she poses (or a more detailed response, if you prefer) and you, too, will be entered into her contest of the month. For October, the swag waiting to be won is an autographed copy of Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade, AND a copy of Old Broads Waxing Poetic. Next month? Only Carol knows for sure. So why not make it a habit to visit her blog? It's fun, and no exercise involved...

                        Although with proper exercise, we can accomplish great things...

                           Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Going Where the Wind Blows

Thought for the day: I can't change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails and always reach my destination.  [Jimmy Dean]

If you don't have a specific destination in mind, I don't reckon you're ever lost. I had a destination in mind, but I'm gonna have to adjust my sails a bit to get there a little more quickly than I'd planned. Smarticus and I have been out and about a good part of the day, so not much time left to get this post ready to publish at its usual 12:34 AM time slot. No problem. Remember Colonel Flagg from the oldie but goodie TV show M*A*S*H? One line he said quite frequently is, "I am the wind." Well, that's me this evening. Gonna blow through this post and be outta here before ya know it.

At least, that's the plan. No telling which way the wind's gonna blow for sure...

Smarticus took this shot at Lake Louisa Park.

You've probably heard of a Mexican Stand-Off before... well this picture is what I'd call a Floridian Stand-Off. Pretty cool to see a grasshopper and lizard sitting so close together, isn't it?

.

Smarticus and our son took these three to Lake Louisa Park on Saturday, and let them lead the way for a hike. In plus ninety degree temperatures, and high humidity. Let's just say, they all got plenty of exercise. (Did I happen to mention it was over ninety degrees?)

Our daughter-in-law, granddaughters Jordan and Ella, and I, on the other hand, opted to get our exercise at an air-conditioned mall. Shopping isn't my thing, but we were on a special mission: finding Jordan a dress for her homecoming dance. That made it fun, even if Ella got a little wore out, and Atlas got a little fussy. (Grandma got a little wore out and fussy, too, but no one offered to carry me.)

Smarticus and I spent one day doing the TT thing. (Typical Tourist) Yep, we went to Universal. The price of admission is ridiculous. Heck, it cost sixteen bucks just to park... and then we had to walk more than a mile just to get from our car to the park itself. (Yeah, I heard there were shuttles available, but we didn't see any, so we hoofed it.)

This picture doesn't really do the huge Transformer justice. If I remember right, it's in the area of the park that looks like the streets of New York. Another area looks like the San Francisco pier. Illusion is the name of the game. The movie sets feel... real.

Attractions are based on various movies and TV shows. Some of the rides within those attractions are something else. Nothing like zooming downhill backwards on a roller coaster... in pitch darkness.

I think our favorite attraction was based on "Despicable Me 2." That roller coaster ride puts you right into the scene with the characters, thanks to 3-D glasses, which are provided for a lot of the rides. My favorite part of the day was hearing Smarticus laugh like a little kid on this ride. (We reeeeeally like the Minions.)

It was a grand day. One thing I'd recommend if you ever visit Universal, though. Spring for the express passes. After waiting in line for about an hour to get into Shrek, we bit the bullet and treated ourselves to them. Life's too darned short to spend all day waiting in line.

One thing we usually see in Florida that we don't see anywhere else... skywriting. The most frequent thing is "God loves you" and a smiley face. That's probably what this one was gonna be, too, but all it shows so far is... GO.

Which is what I've gotta do.

Yep, I've gotta hop right outta here. 'Cause that's just the way the wind is blowing...









Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Sunny Daze and Falling Leaves

 Thought for the day:  I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree... (yada, yada, yada)
[Joyce Kilmer]

Yeah, I love trees, too. Some of them are sooooo beautiful and majestic, and without a doubt, the shade they provide in the hot summertime is definitely welcomed and appreciated. But, this time of year? Not so much.

The first time I drag the rake out is downright enjoyable. Almost. Starts out that way, anyhow. Then the bugs start biting, and the miserable &*^%$ gnats start buzzing around my head, and make me feel like Schultz's dirty kid Pigpen. Then comes a pain here and an ache there, followed by a dry mouth, sneezing, and a runny nose. (And that's only five minutes into the job.) Next morning? Darned if the inconsiderate rat bastard leaves aren't ankle-deep all over again.

Know what? If I work hard enough at it, maybe I can forget about the exercise, and learn to ignore the leaves, no matter how deep they get. Like the cat in this picture. And like  the cat I'm married to. (Smarticus thinks raking leaves is a monumental waste of time.)

On the other hand, I miss these trees. Palms. The kind we saw when we visited our family in Florida. This picture doesn't begin to do them justice, though. They looked so cool silhouetted against the dark sky and full moon. (And bonus! Nobody has to rake up after them, either.)

And I miss these trees, dripping with Spanish moss. (And okay, dripping with quarter-sized banana spiders, too, but hush... I'm on a roll.) Dramatic looking trees, aren't they? Just loverly...

(Just in case you've never seen a banana spider...)









To tell the truth, I wouldn't mind having to rake up all the leaves in our yard if our trees had the decency to put on a nice technicolor show for us first. Nope, not this year. This year, it's brown... then down. (and down and down and down...) Heck, some of the leaves are committing suicide while they're still green. Then they just lay on the ground, shriveling up into crunchy skeletal remains. No breath-taking color. No slow strip tease of leaves. Just big ol' dumps of brown (and green) leaves. (sigh)

Okay, I'll admit it. It isn't the leaf-raking that's turning me into a kvetching ol' fartessa. And it isn't really the Florida trees... or heat... or bugs... I miss.

It's the kids I miss. (Although the kid with the beard came home with me.)

Princess Olivia is a little Southern belle.

                                                                             

Three-month-old Atlas is a real heart-stealer.

                                       

He sure stole mine.

And big sister Jordan's.

                                 

And grandpa's.

Even big brother Josh thinks it's pretty neat to have another dude around.

I'll tell you about some of the things Smartacus and I did while we were in Florida... next time. But before I go, let me ask you. Do you rake leaves, or do you let nature... or possibly a lawn mower... take care of them for you? (Sometimes, I wonder if I'm the last person in North America who still uses an old-fashioned rake instead of one of those noisy annoying leaf blowers.)

Oh yeah, Don't forget. You know what tomorrow is in the U.S., don't ya?

Don't forget to vote! If you don't vote, you can't kvetch about who wins the election.

Oh, wait! One more thing. Have any of you been experiencing difficulty changing your header picture? I go through all the usual steps, but the old picture is... still there. ( I really *need* to change the header to the yam with the Falcons banner before the team loses all chances of winning a couple more games this season. They (ahem) obviously *need* my support...)

Atlas dressed as a football. But don't worry. There were no spiral passes or spiking involved.

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Oh, Crap! It's That Time Again

 Thought for the day: Since men undoubtedly invented the mammogram machine, I think it's only fair that women should be given the opportunity to invent an equally delightful machine to test men for testicular cancer.

As much as I dislike having to compress anything I've written, as much as I hate having to scratch through any of my words, I'd rather cut another 10,000 words from my WIP than do what I have to do tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I get my up close and personal annual compression. It's (gulp) mammogram time.

OMG! It's that time of year again.

Alas, I forgot to forgo caffeine like I usually do the week before the big test, so I may regret that, but in preparation, I have been dutifully doing my exercises. Not the running around the block or stomach crunches kind of exercise. I still stink at doing that. But there are certain specialized exercises that can help any woman psyche herself up for her annual appointment with the torture machine. Out of the kindness of my heart, I share them with you:

EXERCISE #1

Put a pair of metal bookends in the freezer, and leave them there overnight.

Invite a stranger over to help.

Next day, strip from the waist up.

Have the stranger place one of your breasts between the bookends. (This may require considerable stretching.)

Have him/her smash them together and hold.

Repeat with the other breast.

EXERCISE #2

Open your fridge door and place one breast between the door and appliance.

Ask your biggest, strongest friend to slam the door on it, and to lean on it for a few seconds for good measure.

Hold your breath while (s)he holds the door shut.

Repeat with other breast.

EXERCISE #3

Go into your garage at 3 AM, take off all your clothes, and lie on the cold concrete floor. (If you don't have a garage, the driveway will suffice.)

Ask a pal to slowly back the car over your boob. 

Turn over and repeat with the other one.

OK, so maybe I exaggerate. (But not by much.) 

Here's a poem that's been around for years, so you may have already seen it. Unfortunately, no one seems to know who wrote it, but now is the perfect time for me to share it with you. It's called

  ODE TO A MAMMOGRAM

For years and years they told me,

Be careful of your breasts,

Don't ever squeeze or bruise them,

And give them monthly tests.

So I heeded all their warnings,

And protected them by law.

Guarded them very carefully,

And my bra I always wore.

After thirty years of astute care,

My doctor found a lump.

She ordered up a mammogram

To look inside that clump.

"Stand up very close," she said,

As she got my boobs in line,

"And tell me where it hurts," she said.

"Ah, yes! There, that's fine."

She stepped upon a pedal.

I could not believe my eyes!

A plastic plate pressed down and down,

My boob was in a vise!

My skin was stretched and stretched,

From way up under my chin.

My poor boob was being squashed

To Swedish pancake thin.

Excruciating pain I felt

Within its vice-like grip.

A prisoner in this vicious thing,

My poor defenseless tit!

"Take a deep breath." she said to me.

Who does she think she's kidding?

My chest is mashed in her machine,

And woozy I am getting.

"There, that was good," I heard her say

As the room was slowly swaying.

"Now, let's have a go at the other one."

Lord, have mercy, I was praying.

It squeezed me from up and down,

It squeezed me from both sides,

I'll bet she's never had this done,

Not to her tender little hide!

If I had  no problem when I came in,

I surely have one now.

If there had been a cyst in there,

It would have popped Ker-pow!

This machine was designed by man,

Of this I have no doubt,

I'd like to stick his balls in there,

And see how they come out!

***

On a serious note, breast cancer is nothing to laugh about, and every woman should be diligent about getting those annual mammograms, no matter how much we dislike them. I've lost several dear friends to breast cancer, and I'll bet you have, too. Do yourself and your family a favor: if you haven't had your test yet this year, call and make that appointment. Please. And men, make sure your wives, mothers, and daughters take care of themselves, too.

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.