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- Hello there . . . - Inside Story - Knowing What You Like ...to eat - Organizing Your Meals - eNonyMouse - things you may not want to know - More About Pookie - The Travelling Circus - 'The Top Ten Things I Learnt From my Garden' öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo ...you with the stars in your eyes, a grasshopper brain and thoughts without boundaries... It's been one of those month's when I set out to complete this ezine 'early' but despite my good intentions I'm battling, once again, to meet the month-end deadline. I won't bore you with all the uninteresting whys and wherefores... However the October issue will, by hook or by crook, reach you in very good time because if I don't put it away early it may not reach you at all. I'm expecting a stream of visitors from Zimbabwe and am already becoming tense at the thought of all those meals and things...so you won't be surprised to see strong leanings towards food this time. I'm sounding off, just a little, in Knowing What You Like...to eat, while Robin Nobles steps in with Organizing Your Meals. I've already visited the sites she mentions, and snatched the grocery lists and blank meal planner, so perhaps I'll get it right and my visitors won't depart weighing several pounds less than they did on arrival. The Pookie saga trundles along in The Travelling Circus...Strange to reflect that where I mention people with 'rifles and rockets' these were the cohorts of the very same Robert Gabriel Mugabe who is once again laying waste to the farming areas in troubled Zimbabwe. I suppose the only difference is that in those far off days he was called a terrorist and now he is the president. And of course we could expect the army and police to assist us when we were being attacked. Personal coach Susan Dunn winds it up writing about the top ten things she learnt from her garden. Mine has been under water for days which might explain why I'm feeling so agitated. Taken all round this 'Pearls& Pigs' is rather domesticated - which regular readers will know isn't quite my scene - but sometimes it's unavoidable. I've even been cleaning brass and washing curtains... öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo NEWBIES, NERDS & NITWITS To view previous issues surf to: VISIT the website - read the most recent issues - öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo HAVE I ever told you how Sheldene, the great animal lover, reacts to insects? Well even if I have, it's that time of the year when everything that creeps, crawls or flies is scuttling out of the woodwork, or wherever it's been hiding during winter, and the air is constantly rent with screams and squawks because she has 'seen something'. When 'something' flies in her face - which happens frequently because she focuses on the 'something' with such loathing that the poor thing is inevitably drawn towards that frightening visage - the yelling gets quite out of hand and is accompanied by flailing arms as well as jumping and stamping. 'But the praying mantis (beetle, daddy-long-legs or whatever) won't hurt you', I say, trying to be helpful, but keeping a safe distance. 'Of course it will, you idiot. I suppose you think having a heart attack will do me some good?' And that's when she departs, to swig brandy or digitalis, no doubt, but at least it's quiet for a bit, giving my shattered nerves time to recover before the next onslaught. Fortunately I'm not here at night...when she is 'attacked by gi-ormous moths' whenever she tries to read in bed or do something at the computer. However I do see the culprits' bodies in the morning as, dead or alive, Sheldene is too afraid to remove them. The life cycle of these large moths seems to be extremely short. They fly in and exhaust themselves chasing Sheldene, before settling down to die quietly. Last year she equipped herself with a swatter (in the shape of a flattened duck's head complete with orange beak) but I understand this weapon of moth destruction has been 'totally useless' as it's never on hand when a winged warrior zooms in. At the moment the four dogs, who are supposed to protect my boss from all evil, aren't popular either - because when the house is 'invaded' they too turn tail and run. Which is hardly surprising as they were brought up by a madwoman who has hysterics when she catches sight of anything with eight legs. One might imagine that in view of Sheldene's phobias the house would be full of lethal insect sprays. This is not the case as she only wants them removed (or eaten by the geckos) but definitely not killed. And having said that I have to tell you she has now declared war on the woodborers that are chomping away at the floor boards and kitchen cupboards....the geckos have been slipping up there. Unfortunately one of her friends told her she must inject the borer holes with formaldehyde so now she's slinking about with a syringe and there are enough holes to keep her busy for the rest of time. BUT...does anyone know what effect an accidental jab with that syringe might have on a human.....because I'm quite worried? (What a fascinating thought - Ed.) öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo CONFUSED BY EMAIL? öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo ARE you nibbling a carrot while longing for chocolate mousse, or forcing down tofu when you'd much rather be gorging on gorgonzola? You're wasting your time, dears, because sooner or later someone is going to inform you that carrots are constipating (or life threatening) while tofu is poisonous - at the very least. Not so very long ago butter was considered bad for you - but no longer - and potatoes and pasta were blamed for piling on the pounds. We have been told charred meat might cause cancer, while tomatoes make some people beautiful (but could be dangerously acidic, depending on which magazines you subscribe to). To avoid unnecessary confusion I think it would be safe to assume that everything one likes to eat has, at some time during the last 20 years, been declared a definite no-no. Obviously one has to eat something so the answer is to eat what you like and quit worrying about the kilojoules, and all the other harmful effects, real or imagined. Like everyone else I've read reams of good advice about nutrition and dieting but looking back only two items have had a real impact on my eating habits. The first was a review of a diet book, whose name I can't remember, but the author suggested one should start with the ornate dessert one fancied, when dining out, and only then turn to the more mundane parts of the menu - if you were still hungry. Well that was a genuine lightbulb moment... On countless occasions I have eaten twice my normal amount while on some ghastly diet, simply to try and unsuccessfully quench the craving for my staple food - chocolate. And of course I ate the slab of chocolate anyway so the diet didn't, in fact couldn't, do me any good. The second was a report about an experiment involving a group of very young children who were allowed to choose what they wanted to eat. At every meal the children were able to reach for whatever food they wanted - regardless of its suitability - and the observers finally concluded that over a period of time the individual choices added up to a balanced diet. Sometimes I have to drink tomato juice and will for several days consume vast quantities, and then not touch it for months. Other urges involve frozen sweetcorn or yoghurt and again I stuff myself with these usually unappealing foods, for a day or two, and then forget them - until the next time. Maybe this is self-indulgence or maybe, like those wise infants mentioned above, I know what I need to eat. When it comes to cooking I'm incredibly lazy and when my husband first worked away from home I lived on sandwiches, doughnuts and chocolate which didn't do much for my shape - or the way I felt. However I now exist mostly on thick soup, fruit salad and chocolate - from choice. The soup is based on lashings of onions, tomatoes, peppers, celery, carrots and stock cubes - and I add other ingredients such as barley, cabbage and butternut. This fills my slow cooker and lasts for a week. It may seem terribly health conscious but my soup also includes plenty of salt and pepper because if I didn't like the taste I wouldn't eat it. The fruit salad has to be assembled more frequently - like every three or four days - but it's very simple. Apples and oranges, chopped up small, and mixed with a tin of sliced peaches (including all the wicked, sugar-laden syrup). I throw in a sliced banana just before I eat it as they don't keep well in the fridge. Very occasionally I feel like having a conventional meal - but even I can bear to prepare meat and vegetables once a week. And when I get the urge I make oatmeal porridge (because I like it), or boil an egg. When I was a teenager and into crash diets, my mother stood by and said balefully, 'You'll get sick!' And within a week I would have a bad cold or 'flu, thereby proving that mother's are always right. However, I haven't had a cold for years, and my clothes are quite loose (but only while I'm eating what I like and not having to fit in with someone else's ideas on what should be put on the table). Perhaps this will encourage you to make sure you're enjoying what you eat. When you no longer feel deprived you'll be surprised how little time you spend thinking about food. Copyright 2002 Sheldene Chant öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo PLEASE FORWARD Pearls & Pigs to friends, but when doing öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo TO me, one of the most difficult things to do is to think about what you're going to have for supper ahead of time. In my case, I generally don't think about it until about 6:00 p.m. when everyone is screaming, 'What's for supper, Mom?' By then, you're tired, and it's almost too late to think about planning a meal. That's when it's easier to order a pizza. But, if you can get prepared ahead of time, you'll save money on all of the fast foods you tend to get when you haven't got time to cook, not to mention the high calories that generally go along with those fast foods. Why don't you try creating a menu of meals for a week at a time? Then, when you go to the grocery store, make sure to get the ingredients to fix all of those meals. Post your menu on your refrigerator, so your kids will know what you'll be serving each night. Visit Digital-Women.com for a week's menu chart you can print out and complete. Digital-Women Then, visit WebMomz and print out their grocery list, making sure to purchase all of the ingredients needed for your week's meals. Try it for one week and see how it works for you. I bet you'll feel much more organized, your family will be eating better meals, and you'll feel less stressed! Copyright 2002 Robin Nobles. All rights reserved. _______________________Robin Nobles, Director of Training, Academy of Web Specialists, öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo PLEASE RATE THIS EZINE Please rate this Ezine at the Cumuli Ezine Finder Editor's note: When you click to rate us please make öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo eNonyMouse might not want to know)... Butterflies taste with their feet. A duck's quack doesn't echo, and no one knows why. In 10 minutes, a hurricane releases more energy than all of the world's nuclear weapons combined. On average, 100 people choke to death on ball-point pens every year. On average people fear spiders more than they do death. Ninety percent of New York City cabbies are recently arrived immigrants. Thirty-five percent of the people who use personal ads for dating are already married. Elephants are the only animals that can't jump. Only one person in two billion will live to be 116 or older. It's possible to lead a cow upstairs...but not downstairs. Women blink nearly twice as much as men. It's physically impossible for you to lick your elbow. (Almost everyone who reads this will try to lick their elbow) öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo FREE TUTORIALS BY AUTORESPONDER If you are thinking about making your own web page, or öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööOoo *More about Pookie WE had lived with our volatile vervet for so long he now had to do something really dreadful if he wanted to attract attention.. Of course Pookie managed this quite frequently, but he was only a monkey and as we were surrounded by really inventive people, who were equipped with rifles and rockets, his competition was significant. Due to our overall preoccupation with Rhodesia's escalating 'bush' war, minor rites of passage passed almost without comment. Miranda started high school and acquired Mathilda, an Aylesbury duck. At the time she really fancied a cockatoo (and still does) but we managed to fob her off with a duckling, never dreaming it too would grow into a virago determined to rule with an iron bill. Despite the most stringent precautions, Miranda, Llewelyn and Avalon, made sure they shared Adrian's hepatitis - and I stupidly concluded this was one of life's great mysteries. As soon as Adrian was diagnosed everything he came in contact with was plunged into a bucket of disinfectant before being removed from his bedroom but, notwithstanding, the other three children succumbed rapidly and they were all very ill. Years later they confessed to circumventing all my astringent strategies by sharing Adrian's toothbrush. Such was the Chant kids' steely determination to avoid school at any cost and at every opportunity. However, as Merlyn, the baby, was too young to get at the toothbrush, and Pookie too disinterested, neither caught the dreaded 'lergy, for which I was truly thankful. But now that I think of it, Pookie was never off colour, not even a year later when all our children managed to get measles. By this time several neighbouring farms had come under attack and we listened to blow by blow accounts over the Agric-Alert - a type of 'two'-way radio linking all the farms in the area with the nearest military command centre. After dark one sat with guns at the ready and the TV turned off, listening for alien sounds. I was spared this vigil most nights because I was working in town, at the newspaper. My turn came between midnight and 1.30am when I drove back to the farm, despite a curfew being in operation, and had to find the courage to open the car door and dash to the house. Fortunately our dogs always came strolling along, eventually, and I could then assume everything was OK. If the dogs hadn't appeared I'm sure I would have stayed in the car all night, fearing the worst and too cowardly to go and investigate. If only we could have had mobile 'phones then. Any suggestion that this was getting to me would have been the understatement of the year. Being responsible for five children under these circumstances was frightful. So far we had led a charmed existence but I was convinced we were pushing our luck much too far. This farm was situated about 20 miles from Salisbury, now Harare, and we decided to buy a house in Borrowdale, the nearest suburb, and Keith would commute. Not ideal, as horses choose to ail or foal after dark, but at least the children would be safer. At this time the market was flooded with houses as people were leaving the country in droves. We soon secured an exceptionally pleasant four bedroomed house for next to nothing. Both the house and one-acre garden were in pristine condition and it was situated in a quiet avenue. Best of all, near the maid's quarters, was a very large chicken run, completely fenced in. This was obviously made for Pookie and I intended to ensure he spent a lot of his time in there - free to scamper about but unable to cause widespread devastation, to say nothing of terrorising the locals. (I also suspected there might be bye-laws banning monkeys that bit people.) We couldn't wait to move in and as the existing owners were longing to leave everything was set in motion immediately. To this day I can't tell you why I did it. We must have been more than usually broke, because I surely had some earth shattering reason for staging such a spectacle. The residents of sedate Cosham Avenue probably feared the Hollywood Hillbillies were coming to town, for I arranged to move - by tractor. The whole family was wild with excitement- and I am sure this was shared by the 32 cats, four dogs, one duck etc etc. Piled on a trailer our furniture looked quite awful, although some was genuinely antique. Everything else imaginable was stacked on anyhow. Freitwell and Bubu climbed aboard to keep hold of the most precarious items, and of course the actual move involved several trips. Our older children, plus Pookie, also insisted on travelling by trailer - and so we proceeded, majestically, into town. Each load took a couple of hours to reach its destination, so our new neighbours were given ample opportunity to view the Chant circus in all its glory. Those were the days - but I have to tell you some of those neighbours never recovered. I must remember to include this little incident when I eventually get down to writing How NOT To Win Friends and Influence People. Copyright 2000 Sheldene Chant *The five previous articles about Pookie can be found in the April, May, June, July and August issues at SheldeneChant.com Öö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo 1. Weed. Planting seeds means that at some point you're going to have to remove some of the plants so that other ones have the chance to grow and thrive. In the same way, you only have so much space in your life and you need to get rid of the tolerations so you can have the room, and the nutrients, and the self-care to thrive and grow. In the same way that you let the bigger, stronger plants stay, concentrate on your strengths and let them grow. 2. If you keep doing what you've been doing you're going to keep getting what you've been getting. There's a place in my garden that just needed a rose bush. I planted five there. It's like a black hole. I went on to try other plants. Whatever I planted there died, and no matter what fertilizer, extra watering or extreme care I gave, I was finally forced to admit that for some reason nothing was going to grow there. I gave up what was essentially an ego position and went with the flow. It now is the place for my garden statuary. 3. On the other hand, if it ain't broke, don't fix it - and don't listen to other people! I have another place in my garden where the geraniums thrive all year round. My sister stayed with me a week and she didn't feel like I was watering my garden enough. I started watering the geraniums and now they are spindly and their leaves have turned pale and I question their survival. It seems they were thriving on my intuitive care and were happy with the way things were. 4. Stay in touch with the soil and water. Stay in touch with life. Some of my most peaceful moments take place in my garden. I don't wear gloves and I take off my shoes and walk in the mud and turn the soil with my bare fingers. I work with people and with ideas, and bringing my body in contact with the soil keeps me grounded. 5. There's a time to reap and a time to sow. You'll learn the old elemental cycles of nature. There will be those magnificent sparkling snapdragons for just a few moments in the spring, pansies when it's too cold for anything to grow, and chrysanthemums in the fall bringing back memories of high school football games and 'mum' corsages. Eventually the tomato crop will come in and when they die, it'll be time to plant the broccoli. It's our traditions and the cycles of the year that bring meaning and order to our lives. 6. Delight in the abundant surprises of nature. The rose bush didn't grow, and the impatiens didn't take off, but a crepe myrtle arose, a shoot from another one about 5' away, when I had no idea they propagated; and the biggest surprise of all - out of nowhere some chile patines arrived. I have no idea where they came from, but they're welcome as the day is long. Nature provides. 7. Nothing tastes as good as something you grew yourself. Invest yourself in what you're doing and it will always taste better. It's the projects you really work hard on that have meaning. 8. Find a partner who compliments you. One year the man in my life and I had a vegetable garden. I planned it, with my usual enthusiasm, and plotted everything out. He dug the holes and planted what I'd planned with not much enthusiasm, but a sort of dogged determination. I watched the things come up and was thrilled, and then lost interest. He was the one who faithfully watered, and weeded, and fertilized and kept the crops going with no imagination, just hard work. Then when the harvest came in, I cooked up great things. He liked the meals and pronounced the garden a Good Thing after all. I'm a Strategist who likes to plan things all out and then turn it over to someone else, someone who's not a dreamer, to implement it. We were a good team. Now the garden is all mine and I appreciate all the more his former contribution. He may never dream and vision as I do, and I may never have a taste for doing the same thing day in and day out as he did, so we made a good team and each learned things from the other to incorporate into our lives. 9. Thorns and beetles and hornets and snails and worms. I have cuts and scratches on my hands and arms, like the wrinkles on my face -- signs that I've lived and been in touch with life. When I go out to the garden I meet all sorts of critters that are part of life on this planet and my companions on the journey. There are bugs that want to eat the roses; and snails, whose function I do not know; and worms that are making it all possible; and hornets I must avoid. They quietly go about their daily business, intent on their own thing, which may or may not conflict with mine, and sometimes we meet. 10. Butterflies. Butterflies, like happiness, just come and light on your shoulder. Though I planted a Butterfly Bush, it didn't attract butterflies, but other things have. From time to time (I think it's a migration) butterflies arrive in my garden while I'm doing other things. I can't predict their arrival, and my attempts to summon them didn't work, but still they come! I can't make it happen, but I can count on it happening just the same. Like happiness. When it's least expected it will arrive. (c) 2002 Susan Dunn __________________Susan Dunn is a personal and professional development coach, Öö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo We are pleased to be members of the Ezine Publishers öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo FREE EZINES öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖoo Copyright 2002 Poignant Pearls & Potbellied Pigs öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo LIST MECHANICS TO JOIN: Please send a BLANK email to VIEW PREVIOUS ISSUES AT - CONTACT INFO: Sheldene Chant (Publisher), 6 Strapp öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖo |
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