Thursday, December 31, 2009

two hours and counting


We are already celebrating - in anticipation, or fear of falling alseep before 12, I don't know - but we have a cheese platter, dried apricots and quince paste and we are having fun. 

last day


I love New Year's Eve. All day I get to make really obvious, pathetic statements like when farewelling a phone caller with "see you next year". This morning I told Mr FD that if he mowed the lawn today that he wouldn't have to do it again until next year.

And the fun goes on. Tomorrow I get to say classy things like: " haven't spoken to you since last year" or "I haven't eaten since last year". Minutes and minutes of fun.



You're really looking forward to the calibre of my postings next year now aren't you?

inside words and outside words

Do you ever say what should be an inside word as an outside word? I mean, do you blurt out something that would have been better left unsaid? I find that as I get older I am doing this a little more often than I should. Does it mean that eventually I will be one of those rude old ladies who thinks nothing of telling someone that they are fat, or ugly? Or does it mean that I am just tired of playing games and want a bit more honesty? Dangerous game though isn't it?

Evil intent

My dear children,

When I am old and no longer coherent or mobile, please, do not allow me to be parked in a chair in front of one of those Rainforest Screenscape DVDs. Imagine a spectacular cascading waterfall, or a picturesque stream gently bubbling through an old growth forest with a choice of 4 rainforest landscapes and natural sounds or ambient music – on repeat for 10 hours a day.



Darling children, if you do that, I will come back and haunt you, your children, and your pets. Revenge is sweet, and it will be mine.

Anxiety is my other name

Anxiety, for me, is not the second album created by the alternative rock/post-grunge music group Smile Empty Soul (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anxiety (album) ). Rather, it is an unpleasant, emotional and relatively permanent state in my life that involves a rather complex combination of emotions that include, but is not limited to at any time; fear, apprehension, and worry ( en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anxiety ) The varying degrees of fear, apprehension and worry fluctuate wildly throughout any given day.



Logically, I realise that this is because I am a 52nd generation member in a very long line of anxious people in my family. I have spoken before about my mother’s perennial question “can you do that?” that sticks with me to this day. If you can’t control it you have to be anxious about it. My flight or fight switch is permanently in high gear. Thanks Mum.



I also thank the Sister of No Mercy who taught me from age 5 to 12. They applied guilt and anxiety along with hell and brimstone, and a fair degree of corporal punishment, but that is an issue for another day. Let us just say that their not so tender unmercies certainly did nothing to soothe an anxious, shy child.



How anxious you ask? I can not listen to phone-in competitions on breakfast radio while driving to work in my car. As soon as someone is put on the spot and has to remember the 2nd line of the song played just before the 7am news, yesterday, I tense up and have to switch off the radio until I judge that it is all over and can switch back on to the music. I empathise too much. I feel their stress, their anxiety, their desperation to win that double pass to have smallpox vaccinations. Too much to bear.



I took pills for awhile, but then I started to get anxious about the medication I was taking. Long term effects? How long should I take the pills? If it says take once a day, is it better to take in the morning, or the evening? ….zillions of anxious queries and issues rising in my head again.



Anxiety is not all bad. It does let you write “I have great attention to detail” on your resume and mean it. I have “midnight epiphanies” where I wake in the middle of the night and think “NO! I forgot to reply to the email about the boobahs” and I cannot go back to sleep until I get out of bed, log on remotely to my office and send that email. Like someone is waiting at 3am to receive my missive.



A friend handles it better. If she has a midnight epiphany she just grabs something off her bedside table and throws it at the door. In the morning that thing lying on the floor reminds her of the issue and she deals with it. If only. I would worry that one of my kids would fall over the item just inside the doorway. After I threw my lamp I would eventually have to get out of bed and retrieve it. Then I would have to think of a new place to put the lamp to remind me about the thing that woke me up to worry in the first place. I would have to change that lamp’s position three times. By now day light would be peeping through my windows and I have to also worry that I will now be tired at work all day.



Would I be less anxious if I let go of my anxiety regarding my anxiety? Celebrated it even? I could have an ANXIETY party with an anxious looking piñata that I danced under while pulverising with a stick, thus representing the letting go of my anxieties. I fear that the sight of me in high party mode may frighten my few remaining friends and make them anxious about me, or at least my stick.



Or should I just embrace my anxiety and acknowledge it for what it is? Acknowledge that I will always walk back to the car, twice, to check that I did actually lock it the first time. No longer fight the fact that I will always make my daughters pack a jacket, even on holiday to Fiji.



I am 52 in 4 months time. Is it too late for a mature dog to lean new tricks ( would they be too hard, too complicated, too physical?? Or should I just go with the established status quo and keep harrying the bone? Make anxiety my friend?



I am not going to sleep tonight, am I?

How to pass a rainy day

How to pass a rainy day (if at home).

By Flamingo Dancer, aged 51 years and 10 months





The obvious – read, watch movies, craft, sleep

Cook soup and muffins (even if 30 degrees Celsius outside!)

Locate all the cutlery into one spot and place them neatly in a drawer. Spoons spooning, that sort of thing.

Gather together all the Christmas cards and update my address list

Go through the pantry and check use by dates.

Find all the stray socks and match up.

Untangle all the wire coat hangers at the back of my closet

Drink tea

Go through old magazines, rip out any recipes I think I can’t live without and recycle the magazines

Make a stew (yes, even if 30 degrees Celsius outside!)

Think (but not too deeply, let us not get too carried away)

Watch rain run down the window pane

Check the rain gauge (becomes an obsession in a drought!)

Knock on the rain water tank to check how much rain water has been collected. Listen for variations of sound to decide on water level. Knock some more trying to make music.

Surf the net

Drink more tea.

Wait for the mailman who will only bring requests for payment and so avoid opening anything.

Think about ordering pizza, but try and be strong.

Search for hidden supplies of chocolate. Give in to weakness

Consider going through my closest and throwing out clothes not worn for 12 months. Think better of going through my closest and throwing out clothes not worn for 12 months.

Feel guilty and phone mother, and then wish you hadn’t.

Drink more tea.

Plan dinner for next Christmas – put in too hard basket and promise self to just buy take away.



So that should keep me occupied until lunch time. Suggestions for the afternoon please?

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Arguments with Benford and Goodwin

Benford's Law states that passion in any argument is inversely proportional to the amount of real information advanced.



Obviously Benford was married.



Goodwin's Law states that the longer an argument drags on, the likelier someone will stoop to a Hitler or Nazi analogy.



Or a reference to his mother, or my mother, or both

Things I learnt

Sigh syndrome, which involves irrepressible, persistent, sighing, may be stressful for the patient, but it's benign . Supporting reassurance appears sufficient, since the syndrome has a favourable outcome.



I am glad that I will recover, as I have a sever case of sigh syndrome, particularly during the working week!



 The term 'posttraumatic embitterment disorder' (PTED) was recently introduced to describe a subtype of adjustment disorders, characterized by prolonged embitterment, severe additional psychopathological symptoms and great impairment in most areas of life in reaction to a severe negative but not life threatening life event.



This disorder brought to mind my mother-in-law, again! That meeting was a severe negative, believe me.





 Mojon-Azzi, Sousa-Poza and Widmer research into The effect of retirement on health: a panel analysis using data from the Swiss Household Panel concluded that positive changes in health after retirement may be due to the cessation of work-related stress and to an increase in physical and leisure activities.



I am willing to research this further, if I can just get funding!



 The purpose of Conroy MB; Simkin-Silverman et al’s study was to investigate why after menopause, leisure physical activity (PA) levels seem to decline for reasons that were not completely understood. Women reporting no activity lapses had higher reported activity levels than regularly active women with lapses or occasionally active women with lapses (P < 0.0001 for trend). Of the women who reported lapses, 24% reported low self-confidence, 43% reported difficulty controlling their weight, and 55% reported difficulty maintaining their diet when they lapsed from PA. Thirty-nine percent of women reporting lapses did not resume PA (i.e., relapsed to inactivity). Higher anxiety and depressive symptoms, and less frequent use of behavioral exercise processes of change, were associated with relapse to inactivity. CONCLUSIONS: Future interventions for early postmenopausal women should consider psychosocial factors when attempting to encourage and maintain higher levels of PA. Addressing and preventing PA lapses may help to achieve PA goals in this population.



I think this equates to misery loves company. If you exercise with a friend you are more likely to stick with the program!



 Mendes , Gray et al considered why Why egalitarianism might be good for your health. They found that, Egalitarianism may have physical and psychological benefits for people living in a diverse society.



Who would have thought a level playing field would do that for society!





 Sharpe and Williams et al’s objectives were to assess the effects of massage compared to guided relaxation on stress perception and well-being among older adults and found that Significant improvements were found for the anxiety, depression, vitality, general health, and positive well-being subscales of the General Well-being Schedule and for Perceived Stress among the massage participants compared to guided relaxation. Their findings indicated that massage therapy enhances positive well-being and reduces stress perception.



I could have told them that one, then they could have given me the money they used for the research and I could have had more massages!





 Holt-Lunstad , Uchino et al examined the effects of the quality of a friendship on cardiovascular reactivity when speaking about positive or negative life events with an ambivalent or supportive friend. Their conclusion was Individuals may not be able to fully relax in the presence of ambivalent friends and may not benefit from support during stress.



Thus proving the value of a good friend, me thinks!

Stress Generation, Avoidance Coping, and a Depressed Life

Stress Generation, Avoidance Coping, and Depressive Symptoms: A 10-Year Model



Author Holahan, Charles J; Moos, Rudolf H; Holahan, Carole K; Brennan, Penny L; Schutte, Kathleen K Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology. Vol 73(4), Aug 2005, pp. 658-666



This study examined (a) the role of avoidance coping in prospectively generating both chronic and acute life stressors and (b) the stress-generating role of avoidance coping as a prospective link to future depressive symptoms. Participants were 1,211 late-middle-aged individuals (500 women and 711 men) assessed 3 times over a 10-year period. As predicted, baseline avoidance coping was prospectively associated with both more chronic and more acute life stressors 4 years later. Furthermore, as predicted, these intervening life stressors linked baseline avoidance coping and depressive symptoms 10 years later, controlling for the influence of initial depressive symptoms.



Folks – if I keep avoiding cleaning up the mess which passes for my kitchen, it would seem that I am guaranteed both chronic and acute stress and future depression. In other words, are they are telling me that if I don’t clean my kitchen, next time I try to cook a meal I will be severely stressed and then depressed? I see only one solution. My husband should take me out for all meals, thus alleviating my need to avoid cleaning the kitchen, and halting a major depressive episode into the bargain. I could cope with that.



I wonder if there is a solution for my avoiding doing the ironing?

last words

I want my tombstone to read:



Here lies Flamingo Dancer

Who died kicking and screaming

and

really pissed off...

aged 102

a risotto too far

I foolishly decided to throw caution to the wind and cook a meal that took a little more effort than throwing some frozen vegetables into a pan along with meat and a jar of sauce. Elder daughter loves risotto so I thought I would be a good mama and make her one a Mushroom and Asparagus risotto as effortlessly created by Martha.

My first mistake was that it was Monday night. Who cooks gourmet, well pseudo gourmet, meals on a Monday night? Monday nights are for sitting on the couch and moaning ,”oh lordie, it is only Monday night”. I think I coerced myself into doing it by all day Monday imagining myself dressed in a cute apron (which I don’t even own. I do have aprons but none could be classed as cute, or Mother knows best style) standing with wine glass in hand while I stirred the risotto with the other hand, blissfully listening to music as I cooked.

Never happened. Well the wine did make it into the glass and the glass made it on to the bench next to the stove, but there ended up being so many steps to the recipe, involving so many saucepans that the wine only got gulped down just before I served the meal. At that stage it was to dampen the hysteria welling inside of me like a tsunami.

Martha should have warned me that I would need 3 pairs of arms to cook this risotto. I checked afterwards, and the recipe carried no warning on needing extra appendages to handle the configuration of the recipe. I felt cheated. Martha let me down. It was not a good thing.

First I had to make mushroom stock, then the rice mix, while still keeping the stock warm. Then I had to prepare an ice bath for the asparagus at the same time I was blanching its tips and stems separately. There was wine to add – to the risotto! Then cheese to grate. All the while I had to decide if the liquid had almost evaporated or not. Define almost. I mean, really, is your almost, my almost? What does an almost look like? Too much or too little and obviously the risotto would be lost. Made mental note to self to petition government to cut the word almost from the dictionary as too ambiguous and open to conjecture.

I felt and acted like a whirling dervish. I think I used every pot in my set and every large spoon as well. I ran out of ice and then had to fret that the ice bath would be too warm and my asparagus would not stay a crisp green. The kitchen looked akin to a bomb site by the time I had finished! I huffed and puffed like a marathon runner crossing the finish line., perspiration trickling down the side of my face.

But, it was a winner. Daughter said that she would actually pay money for my risotto at a restaurant, so I am going to take that as a compliment. And know what? Next time she wants risotto, she can pay money for it at a restaurant, and buy me one too!


Mushroom and Asparagus Risotto

Ingredients

1 pound assorted mushrooms, such as oyster and cremini, cleaned
1 ounce dried porcini mushrooms
1 bunch asparagus, trimmed
1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon olive oil, plus more for serving
1 large clove garlic, finely chopped
1 onion, finely chopped
2 cups Arborio rice
1 cup dry white wine
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese

Directions
Remove stems from mushrooms; set aside. Cut mushrooms into 1/2-inch pieces. Set aside two-thirds of the mushrooms and coarsely chop the remaining mushrooms; set aside. Place porcini mushrooms, mushroom stems, and 6 cups water in a medium saucepan. Cover and bring to a boil over high heat. Let boil for 2 minutes; immediately remove from heat and let stand 15 to 20 minutes. Strain mixture through a fine mesh sieve into another medium saucepan; discard solids. Place mushroom stock over low heat and keep covered until ready to use.
Cut 2 inches from the top of asparagus; set aside. Cut remaining portion of the asparagus crosswise into 1/4-inch pieces. Bring a small saucepan of salted water to a boil; prepare an ice-water bath. Place asparagus tips in boiling water and cook until tender-crisp, about 2 minutes; drain and immediately transfer to ice-water bath to cool. Drain and set aside. Repeat process with 1/4-inch asparagus pieces.
Heat 3 tablespoons olive oil in a medium saucepan over low heat. Add garlic and onion, and cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent, about 2 minutes.
Add rice and stir to coat. Add wine and increase heat to medium-high; season with 2 teaspoons salt. Let cook, stirring, until liquid is almost evaporated, about 2 minutes. Add 1/2 cup of the warm mushroom stock and cook, stirring constantly, until liquid is almost evaporated, about 2 minutes. Repeat this process 2 more times.
Add reserved coarsely chopped mushrooms and season with 1 teaspoon pepper. Continue adding mushroom stock, 1/2 cup at a time, and cook, stirring, until liquid has almost evaporated, about every 2 minutes, until rice is al dente, 20 to 30 minutes total.
Meanwhile, in a large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium-high heat. Add remaining two-thirds of the mushrooms and cook, stirring, until golden brown, about 2 minutes; season with salt and pepper. Add asparagus tips and cook until lightly browned, about 1 minute more. Remove from heat and set aside.
Add 1/4-inch pieces of asparagus to risotto and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Remove risotto from heat and add remaining 1/4 cup olive oil to risotto, along with butter and cheese. Stir until butter has melted and mixture is well combined. Season with salt and pepper.
Divide risotto evenly among 4 serving plates. Top with sauteed mushrooms and asparagus tips. Drizzle with olive and serve immediately.

Hippopotomonstrosequippedaliophobia - huh?

Hippopotomonstrosequippedaliophobia, Will Pavia of the Times (Weekend Australian Jan12-13 2008) writes that it is the fear of long words. Obviously the creator of the word had no such fear.

Nucleomituphobia is the fear of nuclear weapons. I think we all fear that, except maybe for a few world leaders we wont name here! Odontophobia is the fear of dentists and rhytiphobia the fear of wrinkles! Coulrophobia is the fear of clowns.Pentheraphobia is the fear of mothers-in-law. I have suffered that particular fear myself, ever since the day we went to visit my soon to be inlaws to show then THE RING, and my finance/husband's mother dragged him into a corner of the room to ask him if he had been in contact with his former girlfriend recently. It has been passive hostility ever since, because we are too genteel to have the punch up, drag it out she deserves. I will however be crass enough to dance on her grave.



Paraskavedekatriaphobia is the fear of Friday the 13th. I have never quite understood the Friday 13th fixation, but that might be because my father was the 13th child in a family of 18 children. He considered that his actual survival in that tribe meant 13 must be lucky and that view must have rubbed off on me also!



What would the fear of wrinkled, mother-in-law clowns, viewed on Friday the 13th, going into a nuclear plant be deemed? Taking it too far?

debates within the night

Suggestions for when you know that your partner has had trouble going to sleep (mainly because they kept you awake with their tossings) and has finally drifted off to sleep, but they are now snoring with so much gusto that your nerve endings are jangling.
a. Earn you way to heaven and allow them to snore on, sacrificing your own slumber
b. Wake them up and ask them to roll over
c. Move excessively on your own side of the bed in the hope that they waken enough to cease snoring
d. Move to another room
e. Put a pillow over your head, resisting the urge to put the pillow over their head
or
f Poke them with one finger to try and break their rhythm?

Heck, I've been married for 30 years. I wake him up and threaten him with physical harm. His reply is that he doesn't snore and that I must have been imagining it.

Sometimes he:
a.Earns his way to heaven and allows me to snore on, sacrificing his own slumber
b.Wakes me up and asks me to roll over
c.Moves excessively on his own side of the bed in the hope that I waken enough to cease snoring
d.Moves to another room
e.Puts a pillow over his head, resisting the urge to put the pillow over my head
And
f.Pokes me with one finger to try and break my rhythm.

I tell him ladies don't snore, and that I must be coming down with a snuffly case of pneumonia.

We maintain the status quo, but gee, after 32 years we could both do with a really good night's sleep...

Fluctuating fortunes are somewhat alien to me

Aliens are diabolical. They are masters of mind control. They can taken a normal woman and turn her into a raving obsessed lunatic with the flash of a dial. Yes it was weight day. First 4 scale readings on my electronic scales (I am nothing if not thorough) reported that I was a whopping 2.5 kgs smaller than last week. I knew they were having me on. So I walked away for three minutes then came back. Those 3 readings so I was now a kilo lighter than the same time and day last week.

Now I should have been happy with that, but no, I had to challenge the aliens. I had to weight myself again. Twice, actually. Back to 2.5.

I then lost all composure. I moved the scales to different floor positions, tried walking on with first the right foot, then the left foot. I did it in fast succession. Multiple times. Went away and dried my hair a little more until I risked looking like the triangular haired girl out of Dilbert. Weighed again. The readings ricocheted between the two figures.

I pulled myself together when I heard a noise and realized I was groaning and mumbling to myself. The aliens were playing the tune and I was twirling around my bathroom like a frenzied member of the Irish Riverdance troupe. I am glad the bathroom door was closed, so that no close family member witnessed Mother having more than a moment.

Reason would have told any sane women to split the difference and feel superior, but I think it is fairly well established I am a little short on sanity, especially under stress. I could have also not been greedy and sensibly embraced the1 kilo reading as a job well down. No, I had to try outwitting those aliens.

I shook the scales before replacing them on the floor and alighting once more. The top half of two electronic red zeros glared back at me. It refused to give me a coherent reading.

Do I take this as a godsend as the alien saga could now be put to rest? Or do I go out and purchase new bathroom scales, and maybe a tape measure to measure my circumference as a counterbalance to error? Oh, and a hair shirt (this season’s color of course!), all the better to torment myself with…

Weighty issues indeed.

To yurt, or not to yurt, is today's anxiety

I am going to live in a yurt (the traditional felt tent of the Mongols). I am going to erect it in the back yard, just over form the compost bin and not too close to the garden shed. When I am tired of the view I may move to the other side of my yard. Variety is the spice of life after all. That way I can minimize my household, and no longer have to take responsibility for the possessions that we have accumulated in a 30 year marriage that has produced three children.

I will come into the house to use the bathroom and dishwasher. And maybe to watch television and use the computer. Aside from that…oh and the laundry … I revoke my house usage.

The open life for me. My family may visit me, as long as they promise not to bring any odd pieces of paper, store catalogues, junk mail, old magazines, research notes for a degree completed in 1992 or the 7th draft of their latest job application.

I have tried adopting the “one new thing in, one old thing out” but my husband refuses to go. Just joking . The theory of buy a new thing, discard an item that you already own, should work well. How to choose though? Like for like? A skirt for a skirt? What if I love all my skirts, and wear them on a regular basis? An item for an item? A skirt for that disgusting bright orange blown glass vase that we got as a wedding present, in 1977? But what if the relative that gave it to us visits and it is nowhere to be seen? Could I handle the family rift on top of all my other anxieties?

The yurt (pronounced ger, by the way) seems like the best possible solution to me. No decisions to make about “stuff” and if I am lucky no one will notice where I am for a day or two.

What has brought on this desire to abandon all? The pest control man is coming on Friday. He is going to open all my cupboards to search for white ants/borers. I am going to be socially embarrassed in front of someone I do not know and will probably never see again. Why does it worry me? Why should I care? I don’t know, but it does. However at the same time it doesn’t motivate me to go to Olympian efforts to turn my house upside down and declutter on a major scale. I will just wallow in my own physical and psychological mess yearning for the elusive yurt..

Kitchen table debate

Pathetic adjective - Arousing pity, sympathy, or compassion.
• French: pathétique
• German: erbí¤rmlich


Elder Daughter , Younger Daughter and I were kitchen table debating whether it is more pathetic to know one is pathetic, than not to know if one is pathetic? This led us to ponder that if one knew one was pathetic, was it even more pathetic not to do anything about it?

Younger Daughter thought that the unknowing Pathetic were best off as they didn’t know they were pathetic and were often happier than the more self aware.

But what if you are pathetic, and want to do something about it, but all efforts lead to no visible improvement in your patheticness? You are obviously subject to feeling, indeed capable of deep feeling, impassioned to action, but your efforts fail – what degree of pathetic is that? Would it be better to ere on the side of apathy and refrain from any endeavours to change your condition, thus not risking arousing even more pity, sympathy and compassion? Or would that be the penultimate pathetic response?

cup runneth over

The problem wth being stoic, is that when you really want to be truely vulnerable and just cry, everyone looks at you as though you have gone insane.

Monday, December 28, 2009

riddle me this

There are so many people writing blogs about books, that I wonder if anyone actually has time to read the books. Can we not choose our own books anymore?

Go away 2009

I am ready for 2009 to disappear. It has been all flotsam and jetsam and so tiresome. I hope 2010 has a big smiley face and stars in its hair. I did my best with the year, but it didn't live up to our bargain. Move on, move on, is the mantra now.