Monday, February 27, 2006

Nepeta cataria, Baby.

While I’m no newbie to alternative remedies, having been labeled a health nut all my life – with varying levels of derision or affection – Lyme Disease has opened up a heretofore unknown dimension of reality. There’s an herb called prima una de gato, that I’m on, for instance. That’s Latin or something, for “cat’s claw.” Hopefully the clawing is something it does to the disease, not to me. The herb is not to be confused with Nepeta cataria which is, of course, catnip. I take the correct herb in a supplement called Samento. My cats ignore me as much as ever, so I know I'm taking the right one.

Driving home from one of my treatments, I thought how all these names would fit so well in many scenarios:

Vacation in South America

Scene: El hospital e carnicero. On vacation, awakening in old hospital bed, surrounded by stained mosquito netting. I can make out three figures standing nearby. It’s a doctor, nurse and my husband. David is nervous, expecting an answer.

Doctor, crushing out cigarette on the floor, looks up at David wearily: “Prima una de gato.” He whispers gruffly.

Nurse, shaking her head sadly, adds: “Samento.”

David: “Nooooo!!”

Mafia Film

Scene: me sitting, tied to a chair in a dank space, one bare light bulb dimly lights the room. The mafia don and his men are shadows, sitting on the other side of the room.

Man leans toward the don, both looking at me: “Prima una de gato.” He whispers gruffly.

The don narrows his eyes, and speaks, his voice sounding like his jaw and nose had once been broken: “Samento.”

Me: “Nooooo!!!”

Zorro Film

Scene: Don Pedro’s villa, Great Hall. Zorro (who looks uncannily like my husband David) has just taken down six bad guys with a whip and his sword. I have just eliminated six others simply by loosening my corset in a deadly thwang. I shouldn’t have eaten all that brisket (whatever that is). Zorro rushes over to my aid, but realizes I need none.

Zorro grabs me about the waist and looks deeply into my eyes: “Prima una de gato.” He whispers gruffly.

Me: “Samento!” Lip-lock.

Don Pedro: “Nooooo!!”

Saturday, February 25, 2006

She's Aliiiive!!!

I got sick, but now I'm swell. Sort of. I'm better anyway, although still really tired. Here's a recent photograph of me, with my renewed vim, vigor and vitality.

More tomorrow.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Three Link Thursday

Sorry about the dearth of posts lately. My sister is visiting for two weeks and I haven't seen her in two years, so that's where I've been. In the meantime:

Need a late valentine idea? Send them to this site. I admit that I spent way to much time on this site, swinging our little friend around until the whole song was over. Several times. Click on the anti-gravity button and you can get him to do some very graceful ballet moves. What can I say, I've got a sickness (thanks to JoAnne who gave this link to me in the first place.)


Truth is stranger than The National Enquirer.


This next one falls into the category of Mia & Sheryle's Diet Aids: if you aren't interested in losing your appetite - don't click this link.

I warned you.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Poetry Sunday

Mia's Doo-dah Day
(sung to "Camptown Races" tune)

Me sister Mia sat one day,
In traffic, traffic;
She got hit by a delivery truck
And broke her vertebre.

Broke her vertebre,
Broke her vertebre.
Some bones have shifted to the right,
Some slid the other way.

Me sister Mia sat one day,
In the surgeon's, office,
He said, "I hope you've lots of dough,"
And patted his toupee.

Patted his toupee,
Patted his toupee.
"I have to pay my yachting fee,
And dine at the club's buffet."

Me sister Mia sat one day,
Talking, to her lawyer.
He says it's good she has great pain,
And spine has been pureed.

Spine has been pureed,
Spine has been pureed.
He will get to take his wife,
On an extended holiday.

Me sister Mia sat one day,
In traction, traction.
Lost ten pounds on her new diet
of Vicodin and Perrier.

Vicodin and Perrier,
Vicodin and Perrier.
I hope she gets a brand new spine,
Before she fades away.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Bach Flash

Don't ask me why I'm blogging this, but I just am. I was playing Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor, bombastically with joy, and caused a hot flash. If Johann only knew.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Three Link Thursday

Nurses from Arkansas say stuff like "dad-gum" and perform heroic measures on chickens to see if they "still got it." We Oregon nurses have a lot to live up to. We still practice on spotted owls.


These cells make up a large portion of my brain, too.


Key quote: "elegant, sophisticated, rebellious, alternative and eternally fashionable." I have nothing more to say.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Childlike Quotations

I've heard a lot of excuses from children not wanting to do what they are told, but this was a doozy.

Daddy: "Summerlyn, come here right now!"

Yelling from the other side of her bedroom door: "But Daddy! I'm in the grave!"

I plan on using it next time my boss asks me to do something. Or when David gets that glint in his eye and I'm not in the mood. Or when I get a telemarketer on the line.


The girls call flatulence "tooting." As I was dressing them for bed, I commented on Summerlyn's round tummy.

"Wow, look at that big round tummy! It must be full of food!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," she agreed and then twisted around, "And my bottom must be full of toots, see how big it is?!"

I'm just glad she stopped there and didn't tell me to turn around.


I just remembered this the other day. When the girls were about 2 1/2, we were driving home at night. All was quiet in the car. Then we heard Sydney's tiny voice (she dropped her S's back then).

"Daddy, I need to take a bath."

"How come?"

"Because I'm tinky and have leprosy pots."

"Good reason."

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Poetry Sunday

Toby's Haiku

I am so hungry.
Gobble food too fast and gag --
Ack, ack, ack, ack, ack.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Three Link Thursday

This is an interesting article. The hub and I always wanted to be very careful about TV with our children. When we moved to our current property nearly two years ago, we never hooked up the cable or dish because we didn't have the time and every dime went to fixing up the place. We have one fairly clear channel and 1-2 others that come in and out, but that's it. Like the couple in the article we had the painful withdrawal period. We still watch TV but it's only forkful of the pie in comparison. Then, after a few months, we had filled our time with other things, and we never eat with the TV on. We communicate instead. Weird, huh?

We mention the idea of cutting back on TV to some peopl and their implanted defibrillators kick in. David's parents were over around Christmas we watched Wife Swap together after the girls went to bed (because otherwise we'd be forced to communicate, but that's another story). In the show, one wife took the TV out of the house. That's when my father in law said, "if she did that to me...." The unspoken end of the sentence was "the jury would understand that I had to kill her."

When you think about it, isn't it bizarre that we schedule our lives around the stupid box and don't know what to do with ourselves if it's missing. Now that's real Twilight Zone fodder.


Alright, enough deep thoughts. Here's something else: my boss tells us that she is always open to new ideas to improve our work. I have an idea.

On the other hand, do you really want to be sleeping in a bunch of spheres upon which others have been drooling? How about one Napmosphere per person. I'm a genius.


I've known lawyers like this.