Birthday Blabbermouth

OK.

It's safe to explain yesterday's post.

So Terese has been planning a birthday party for Greg for the last month. We've talked frequently during this time about various party details, how I could contribute to the meal, yada yada yada. What we didn't talk about was the fact that it was supposed to be a surprise birthday party.

As in Greg shouldn't know. Or it wouldn't be a surprise.

I guess I should qualify that last part. I should have written that I don't recall us talking about the fact that it was supposed to be a surprise birthday party, which I guess is a different matter entirely.

It was a strange and busy week. I had taken a quick trip to see the daughter, was planning a dinner party of my own, and then of course was dealing with the loss of our sweet Sammy.

Bottom line, I was running on fumes and we all know what that means. Remember? Tired equals stupid? Big time stupid. Brain fog stupid.

So when we met G and T for dinner recently, I sat munching pizza across the table from Greg, eyes glazed, and mouth running on auto pilot. With brain completely disengaged.

"Just wait till you see what we got you for your birthday party!" I blabbed around a mouthful of mozzarella.

Greg eyed me suspiciously.

"JUUUULLLLIIIIAAAAA" screeched Terese.

Whoops.

If this had happened to somebody else.......anybody else but me, I'm sure that this person would have quickly responded with some glib comment that would have fixed everything.

Instead, this happened to me. Which means that I just screeched back, "TEEEERRRRRREEEESSSEEE!" and mouthed silently, "I didn't know it was a surprise!!" across the table.

Surprisingly, Greg seemed somewhat oblivious. Or maybe he was just playing dumb to avoid having to clean up the mess after Terese murdered Julia. Or maybe he was just too involved in finishing off his tall frosty beer.

At any rate, the party today was a brilliant success. Greg seemed convincingly surprised,

the food was delectable,

and the weather even cooperated.

I'm so envious of Greg and Terese's beautiful property.

Maggie and Lulu invited themselves to the party. Mags thought she could score some cake, but she was wrong.

Whew.

Party on, dudes. And dude-ettes. Happy Birthday, Greg!

Time for a nap.

Well, it Really Wasn't My Fault......

Open mouth.

Insert foot.

Julia does it again. I'll tell y'all more about it later. Hard to talk when your mouth is full of toes.

New Autoimmunity Medical Journal

It's indisputable: autoimmune disease desperately needs more research, and more awareness within both the healthcare practitioner and public arena. So the announcement yesterday of the launch of a new publication entitled Autoimmunity Highlights is good news. This from Medical News Today:
Springer is launching a new journal Autoimmunity Highlights, an independent, international, peer-reviewed journal that publishes papers related to the diverse aspects of autoimmunity, and seeks to be a bridge between the clinic, the laboratory and the specialists who are involved in the complex world of autoimmunity diagnosis. The journal focuses on pathogenesis, immunology, genetics, molecular biology, diagnostic auto-antibody tests, epidemiology, pathophysiology and the treatment of autoimmune diseases.......Springer Executive Editor of Medicine Journals in Italy, Carlotta d'Imporzano, said, "Autoimmune diseases can affect any part of the body, and have clinical manifestations that make diagnosis an extremely difficult task. Because this discipline is rapidly growing in relevance, this is the perfect time for the launch of the new journal Autoimmunity Highlights." 

Image found here. 

You can read more about Sammy here.

Goodbye, Old Friend

We said goodbye to our Sammy dog yesterday. It was, as every pet owner knows, one of those decisions that is simultaneously gut wrenching yet compassionate.

He will be missed for so many reasons, but I think for his unquestioning and limitless love for me and the rest of his family most of all.

Mom on Adrenaline

Yesterday over our morning coffee, John asked what my plans were for the day, and I nonchalantly replied that I had no plans for anything whatsoever. And, I didn't. So I went about my usual routine - a bit of housecleaning, a bit of exercise, a bit of time on the computer. By early afternoon, I decided that I needed a bit of a nap, which turned into a full-blown two hour snooze.

Then the phone rang.

"Mom?"

It's amazing, isn't it..........how a mother can tell by one single word that her child isn't happy? I snapped out of the middle-of-a-nap grogginess immediately. My mom radar went on high alert.

What's wrong, sweetheart?

A brief conversation reassured me - my daughter's concerns were not life threatening. Her limbs were all attached and intact, her two siblings were fine, she still was employed, had a nice place to live, and her car was safely parked in the garage. 

But.

She wasn't happy and needed her mom.

I had an overnight bag packed and Goldie, my little car, full of gas within minutes. Goldie and I were barreling up the freeway towards my girl in no time. I had my bluetooth wireless headset in place and my cell phone fully charged, a full 200 mg. of Provigil ingested, and a super duper extra large mug of coffee in hand. Nothing, but nothing, had better get in the way between me and a child of mine in need, by golly.

Three hours later, I had my arms around my baby girl. Who actually is a very independent and mature 24 year old young lady, but still my baby.

I drove home later enjoying that wonderful sensation of having hugged my kid after dinner and a great conversation, and both of us knowing that actually everything is fine and life is good. Mom mission accomplished. Ahhhh.

I know that I'll need to take a couple of days to re-charge my energy batteries after my adventure, but of course any time spent carrying out Mommy duties is the most important possible way to spend my energy. Who cares how long it takes for me to recharge?

It's amazing what this old body can muster up when I feel that my family needs me. That adrenaline and flight-or-fight response kicks in big time. I wish I could conjure up that response reliably in other situations, but I know from seven years of autoimmune fatigue that my adrenaline rush isn't something that I can control. It's also something that I can't sustain for any length of time, either. There's only so much that stress hormones, provigil, and caffeine can do before the reality of autoimmune disease asserts itself. I've finally come to some acceptance of that.

Ah, well, so now I'll rest. It is what it is. Zzzzzzzzzzz..

Image found here.

Global Health Care

This agreement is long overdue:
GENEVA (Reuters) May 21 - Health ministers sealed a rare global accord on Friday to avoid recruiting doctors and nurses from poor countries where there is an acute shortage of medical staff.The voluntary code for World Health Organization members is only the second such accord in its history and follows six years of negotiations aimed at stemming the exodus of health care workers from roughly 60 of the world's poorest countries.........Industrialized countries, where aging populations require growing health services, recruit trained doctors, nurses and midwives from developing countries which lose precious resources after investing in their training.
The need to facilitate better health care in developing countries is enormous. This accord will attempt to meet the needs of these countries not only by eliminating recruitment of health care workers, but also to assist an increase in medical training. 
The United States, largest recruiter of health care workers from other countries, voiced strong support for the voluntary code under which rich nations vow to uphold ethical principles and also support medical training in low-income areas...."We recognize the critical shortage of trained health professionals in the world's poorest countries ... and are committed to addressing that need," said Nils Daulaire, director of global health affairs at the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, who led the U.S. delegation to the Geneva talks.

Mii and the Wii

I have been goofing around with my new Wii. Yikes. These things can do absolutely anything. My kids heard me mention awhile back that I was intrigued by the Wii fit, and bought one for me for Mother's Day, bless their hearts.

I had read about the game on a few disability sites, and most users liked it. Several mentioned that they could personalize their workouts to be as easy or difficult as they wanted. I'm hoping that I can use it to gradually increase my tolerance to exercise in a fun game type setting, without having to go to a gym.

So when the package showed up on my front porch, I was glad that I had a tech-savvy hubby. John had the thing up and running in minutes.

Like my Mii? Was a real hoot making her, and of course one for John. Greg and Terese don't know it yet, but I made a Mii for each of them, too. Don't worry, guys. I won't post it here.

Yet.

I haven't actually gone through the whole assessment part of the Wii Fit game yet. I watched John go through it all and heard the Wii Fit board - a white plastic platform that gets wirelessly connected to the game - actually say OW! when he stepped on it. I can't imagine what it will say when I get on. Maybe I'll just mute the thing.

So I'll do this, but I won't tolerate nagging. I saw what the game told John - and he's in great shape. You can bet that the first time I climb on that thing, I'll be all alone in the house. Hm. I wonder if I can make the Mii Julia slug the fitness instructor if she gets all judgmental. You need to lose a zillion pounds and your BMI is and your fitness age is...

Hey, Miss Fitness Coach. C'mere and say that again. I double dog dare ya.

Eosinophilic Esophagitis

Image found here. 

My post Gastrointestinal Effects of Sjogren's Syndrome is one of the most frequently visited on Reasonably Well. Although it was posted over a year ago, it continues to receive new comments.

Here's the most recent comment posted by Julie:
Hi there- I'm 39 and have had Sjorgrens for 2 years. I was also getting my throat dilated a year or so ago and they found EE. Immediately following my dilation my throat was very painful for about 3 months. I finally went on flovant for a few weeks and pain stopped. I've been fine until now. I'm 33 weeks pregnant and came down with a cold and then my throat got very painful again. It' s going on 3 weeks now, I've been on flovant again for about a week with no real improvement yet. I was thinking it was associated w/ EE so went back to GI and EE is not supposed to "hurt"..so thinking it might have to do with Sjorgrens....lack of mucus, can't heal, fragile throat lining etc. All I know is it really hurts and no one seems to know why. Need to probably go see Reumy, but reaching out to see if anyone experiences a very very very sore thoroat with SJorgrens? Can't find much on-line..
Thank you for any help you can provide!!

I'm thinking that the EE that Julie is referring to is eosinophilic esophagitis, which is a swelling of the esophagus caused by an infiltration of specific white blood cell - the eosinophil. EE is characterized by difficulty swallowing and changes to the tissue of the esophagus visible by endoscopy. You can read more about EE here, here, and here.

I have no personal or professional experience with EE, but was intrigued after reading the medical literature. Several sources allude to some kind of autoimmune link, but it appears as happens frequently in most autoimmune disease, that more research is needed. You can read a very detailed discussion about EE epidemiology, etiology, and pathology here.

I'm sure that Julie would appreciate hearing from others who may have experience or additional information regarding this distressing condition. 

Time To Make More Bubbles

I reached for a bar of soap this morning, and realized with a shock that my supply of home made soap is running low.

Wow.

I can't believe that we've actually used up three batches of soap. And want more.

Well, except for the coffee hand soap. The recipe showed a picture of a beautiful bar, promised that the soap would smell like a freshly brewed cup of coffee, and when used would remove cooking odors such as onions from your hands. It could be that I made some kind of error, but my soap looked downright ugly. And left a brown chunky slimy ooze on everything. Not exactly the effect I was going for...

But the other batches resulted in bars that provided creamy, bubbly lather and were made from organic fats/oils and scents. I wonder if I should be all boring and unadventurous and follow the recipes that I have already tried for my next effort?

Gee, guess that would be boring and unadventurous. Maybe not.

Well, then. Time to start searching through soap recipes and running them through the lye calculator.

As you can see, I keep all my soap ingredients in a pile of junk in the garage  a carefully climate controlled storage area.

Lemongrass, Green Tea and Oatmeal soap? mmmmm.......wonder if that one would just tempt me to take a chomp out of the bar of soap during my shower.....although this one looks very promising.

Oh, wow. This one looks intriguing. It's called Hey Banane!  I wonder what benefits a banana brings to the soap qualities? Seriously. Anyone know?

You can read the recipe here, which really does called for a mashed whole banana.

How do like this one? A soapy cupcake. It's scented with strawberry and cream cheese fragrance oils. I think it's too cute to actually use.

You can read the recipe and view step by step instructions here.

Ahh. I can see there is much more research to be done here, and I'd better get going on it since soap needs to cure for at least a month. I wouldn't want to *gasp* actually have to buy a commercially made bar.

I love a quest.

This is For Real, Folks

I was in a local farm supply store the other day looking for a good deal on doggie rawhide chewies. I saw this display and made an absolute fool of myself. I just could not stop laughing.

I took this picture with my phone while howling with laughter, so sorry, it's not very clear. But the sign says: NEW! Anti Monkey Butt Powder....for those Butt Busting activities....and when you sit on your butt all day!

Ooooo! After going to their website, I found out that they have a LADY Anti Monkeybutt  version, too! Notice that this delicate creature has a pink butt, lipstick and nail polish.

I wonder if I have a case of Lady Monkeybutt caused by sitting around in front of my computer all day? Could be. I think I'll order up a case. If I buy 12 bottles or more, they ship for just a penny.

Oh, honey? Do you think I have a Monkeybutt?

Honey?

John? What do you mean - you wouldn't touch that question with a ten foot pole.......

Freebie Fest

John came home from work last week smiling. He told me that he had won a gift certificate for a pricey women's clothing store in a drawing. You know the kind of store: the one where the clerk takes the pair of socks that you just bought, wraps it in tissue paper and places it in a fancy schmancy silver gift bag. And then walks around the check out counter and hands the bag directly to you. The kind of store in which I rarely shop.

Being the sweet guy that he is, John immediately handed the certificate over. To me!

Woo hoo! In addition to being sweet, John is also not a fool. He knew that he would be in big trouble if he hadn't.

That thing was burning a hole in my proverbial pocket, but I knew that in order to fully enjoy the experience that only a gift certificate can provide, I needed to wait a bit and choose the day for that trip carefully: A day with no other outings planned; preferably not on a weekend so I could park closer to the mall to decrease my walking time; AND on a day when this store was having some kind of sale.

On a very special day when the shopping and Sjogren's syndrome stars finally aligned, I headed out to the mall and throughly enjoyed myself by spending every penny of that certificate. Well, almost. I still have 30 cents. I'm waiting for a really really really great clearance sale to finish it off.

I walked smugly out of the store clutching my fancy-pants silver bag, passed a Starbucks and realized that I also had a few dollars left on a Starbucks gift card. So I zoomed over (translate: walked without pausing to rest on a bench) and came out slurping one of their floofy frozen drinks. With whip, sprinkles, and chocolate drizzle, thank you very much. I sipped and watched shoppers go by as I sat at a cute little Starbucks cafe table, which had an equally cute and opened cafe umbrella.

Indoors.

OK. Allrighty then. I guess I need all the UV protection I can get.

image found here. 

Well, I thought. I'm loving this. Could shopping get any better? As in free AND tasty?

As it turned out, yes, it could. There it was, directly in my line of sight: a See's Candy store.

Well, now.

One of the reasons that I love See's is, of course, their delightful candy. But also because they give out free samples. I made a beeline for the store and was enjoying a dark chocolate and hazelnut truffle within minutes.

image found here. 

I headed back to my car after also receiving a spritz of the latest Yve St. Laurent perfume, (I have no idea how it smelled, but John said it was nice), a splat of a hypoallergenic hand creme, and a coupon for 50% off a pair of sunglasses from Sunglass Hut.

Ahhh....

Cha-ching. Ba da bing.

Sjogren's Syndrome and Livedo Reticularis

Annie asked an interesting question yesterday - specifically about a condition called livedo reticularis. It seems that Annie has been gifted with this condition and would like to know more about it, specifically if an autoimmune disease such as Sjogren's syndrome can cause it.

LR causes the skin to appear mottled in a net-like pattern. It is seen on the trunk, legs, and forearms. Image found here.

Although livedo reticularis can appear without cause, most often it is a symptom of an underlying disease. Sjogren's Syndrome is one of the many diseases that may cause LR.

Here's a definition found on Medscape:

The term livedo reticularis refers to a reddish-violet reticular discoloration of the skin that mainly affects the limbs. It is caused by an interruption of blood flow in the dermal arteries, either due to spasm, inflammation, or vascular obstruction, and is associated with diseases of varying etiology and severity. 

You can read similar information from the Mayo Clinic site, here.

The excellent Johns Hopkins Sjogren's Syndrome site here describes the various skin - or cutaneous - issues that can be caused by Sjogren's syndrome, among them livedo reticularis:

Cutaneous vasculitis may be seen in patients with SS, and its presence serves as a reminder of the systemic inflammatory nature of this disease. The most common lesions are palpable and nonpalpable pupuric lesions over the lower extremities. Urticaria-like lesions have also been observed. In contrast to classic urticaria, which is transient, these lesions persist for days and even weeks. Raynauds phenomenon, digital ulceration, erythema multiforme, erythema nodosum, and livedo reticularis may also be seen.

You can read more about this and many other effects that Sjogren's Syndrome may have on your skin in my post The Skinny On Autoimmune Skin.

Organophosphates and Your Brain

Awhile back, I began investigating the benefits of eating organic foods, specifically foods grown pesticide free. I've learned that it's easy to begin this kind of a lifestyle change when I'm fired up and enthusiastic, but as time goes by it becomes more difficult to justify the inconvenience and cost of finding those foods. It's so easy to just grab veggies and fruits sold in all the major grocery stores. At times like these, I need a major attitude adjustment - a whap upside the head to remind me of the importance of eating foods that are as pure and wholesome as possible. One that can be found in the results of a study like this: 

In a representative sample of US children, those with higher levels of organophosphate pesticide metabolites in their urine were more likely to have attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) than children with lower levels, indicating less exposure to these compounds, researchers report in the June issue of Pediatrics, published online May 17, 2010.

"Each 10-fold increase in urinary concentration of organophosphate metabolites was associated with a 55% to 72% increase in the odds of ADHD," first study author Maryse F. Bouchard, PhD, of the Department of Environmental and Occupational Health, University of Montreal, Quebec, Canada, told Medscape Psychiatry

I wondered what the heck an organophosphate pesticide is. Apparently, even though I'm not familiar with them, they are everywhere. 

Approximately 40 organophosphate pesticides are registered with the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), the investigators note in their report. In 2001, 73 million pounds of organophosphates were used in both agricultural and residential settings. Diet is a major source of pesticide exposure for children. According to a 2008 US report, detectable concentrations of the organophosphate malathion were found in 28% of frozen blueberry samples, 25% of strawberry samples, and 19% of celery samples.

How do these pesticides facilitate ADHD?

"It is very well established that organophosphates disrupt brain neurochemical activity. Indeed, their efficacy as pesticides result from their toxic effect on the central nervous system of insects," Dr. Bouchard noted."In particular, organophosphates disrupt the activity of acetylcholine, a neurotransmitter also implicated in ADHD. In addition, certain organophosphates affect growth factors, several neurotransmitter systems, and second messenger systems. These changes in brain activity could well result in ADHD-like symptoms," she said.

Hm. Is this a reputable study? 

Michael L. Goldstein, MD, who was not involved in the study, said the study results are "very interesting findings from a very well-done study from a good database." The report, he said, "certainly got my attention when I read it; I was really impressed by it. I think it is a groundbreaking study, added Dr. Goldstein, a specialist in child neurology with Western Neurological Associates in Salt Lake City, Utah, and a faculty member of the American Academy of Neurology.

It appears that this indeed is a study completed by a credible group of scientists using appropriate study guidelines. Of course, I'm not a child, even though I do have this problematic bratty inner child. But I worry about the effects of these pesticides on all of our children and my future grandchildren. And I am concerned that any compound that disrupts normal brain neurochemical activity can be problematic, regardless of age.
You can read the report in it's entirety on Medscape, here. 

Unexpected Fun

Last night, Terese and I attended a concert by the Yale Spizzwinks(?) on their summer tour. They conducted a workshop and then sang a concert in our local high school. I made a last minute decision to go, but I'm glad that I got a chance to hear them before they head up to Vancouver, BC, and then on to Singapore.

These young men really are as talented as this promo for their Cause For Alarm CD demonstrates. With only their voices, a microphone, and a pitch pipe, these guys crank out amazing tight harmonies sung a cappella. Their vocal skills, good looks, and wit had every teen-aged girl swooning within the city limits.

Not Terese and me, though. We've matured beyond swooning. At our age, we're all about taking action.

We trampled at least twenty of those lightweight girls as we muscled our way to the front of the line to meet the guys after the concert.

Seven Bucks and a Leftover Turkey

It's amazing what a simple seven buck string of lights - and a turkey - will do for my attitude.

Sunday evening, I was tired. And cranky because I felt that I hadn't expended enough energy to warrant feeling tired. Y'all know the feeling, I'm sure.

After cleaning out the pantry and freezer, (meaning John had been cleaning out the pantry and freezer), we decided to cook the extra turkey that had been hanging out in our freezer since last Thanksgiving. After a few days of thawing in the fridge and then soaking in a brine solution, John put the twenty-plus pound bird in his smoker.

By diner time, as my grumpiness was hitting it's zenith, the turkey was ready to be eaten and the sun was setting.

We sat outside and savored the smoky and juicy turkey under my patio lights in the cool evening. Presto chango - attitude reversal. Ahhhh.

No, we didn't polish off a whole turkey ourselves, even though it was so tasty that we considered trying it. Instead, we carved it up, divided the meat and put it into several storage bags, and popped them into our newly-cleaned freezer.

I don't know if it was the L-tryptophans from the turkey or just the result of a pleasant evening spent in great company, but I went to bed smiling.

Life is good.

What's in Your Disaster Survival Kit?

When we moved to the Pacific Northwest a zillion years ago, we adapted to a gazillion different changes. One in particular was swapping out one potential natural disaster for another.

When we lived in the Midwest, like most good Midwesterners, every summer we kept a watchful eye to the southwest. Because like most native Midwesterners, we knew that if a bank of soaring, dark, and greenish clouds began amassing, we knew that it was time to round up the kids, tune in a local radio station, and be ready to head for the basement if the tornado sirens began blaring. I kept an emergency bag in our basement which contained a set of shoes for all of us, a first aid kit, flashlights, a battery radio, rain ponchos, blankets, water, and granola bars. When the kids were really little, I'd throw in a few inexpensive kiddie books.

The year John and I were married, our area suffered the effects of three tornadoes that summer, one which sent a tree through my parent's living room window. Ever since that summer, we've had an emergency bag at the ready.

That coincidentally was the same year that Mount St. Helens erupted. John has always said that floods, tornados, volcanic eruptions and our wedding must have been omens of some sort for the year 1980 and beyond. I smack him whenever he brings this up.

So when we became Pacific Northwesterners, I quickly learned that folks here don't worry much about tornadoes, thank goodness. But they always are aware of the possibility of an earthquake.

Oh, goodie.

This freaked me out considerably at first. The only earthquake that I have ever personally experienced was a non-event. I was driving around in my car and didn't feel or notice a thing until the radio announcement. I ripped home, expecting to see my dogs all nervous - aren't dogs supposed to be especially in tune to these kind of things? Not mine. I walked in the door and they were all sprawled out on the sofas.  Didn't even open an eyelid when I came home.

We put together an earthquake kit as soon as we moved into our new house. You can read FEMA's suggestions for disaster preparations here and here. Funny how lots of these items are the same as the things that I had jammed in my tornado duffle bag. Although there are a few differences. We decided to include two weeks worth of food and water to our emergency stash.

John does a great job in checking expiration dates and restocking supplies. He makes sure to donate items that may be expiring within the upcoming three months to a local food bank. Last weekend was one of those check the expiration date sessions and we ended up with a lot of stuff to donate. We consider sending lots of this stuff to our kids' pantries also as contributing to a food bank of sorts. I guess there's all kinds of charities.

So as we were going through stuff this weekend, I have to admit that this was the first time that I considered what I should add to our kit specific to my autoimmune disease needs.

I thought of the obvious stuff like extra water, eyedrops, sunscreen, and moisturizers, but I wonder if I should keep a couple weeks worth of medications in that kit too? I'd have to be really careful to cycle those meds through frequently so that they don't outdate, and keep them in a childproof and clearly labeled medication container. I would think that as long as I'm on prednisone, which cannot safely be abruptly discontinued, that I should at least have enough on hand to get me through a taper cycle.

Hm. Anyone have other suggestions for a Sjoggie survival kit?

Too bad it would be really hard to stock up on frozen mango margaritas.

Obesity and Fibromyalgia

I don't have issues with fibromyalgia, but many Sjoggies struggle with the double whammy of a combination of fibro and autoimmune disease. You can read more about fibromyalgia here.

A recent study published in the May issue of Arthritis Care & Research and the subject of an article on Medscape drew the following conclusions:

Compared with normal-weight women who exercised at least 1 hour per week, overweight or obese women with a similar activity level had a 72% higher risk for fibromyalgia, whereas overweight or obese women who exercised less than 1 hour per week or who were inactive had more than double the risk for fibromyalgia. The study authors note that obesity and fibromyalgia share some etiologic factors, such as proinflammatory cytokines, dysregulation of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis, increased sympathetic tone, and reduced sympathetic reactivity.  "These findings, together with the current study, indicate that regular physical exercise, and thereby improved physical fitness, may serve as a buffer against the perpetuation of musculoskeletal symptoms that eventually lead to the development of FM," Dr. Mork said.

 You can read a summary of the same study found on Science Daily, here.

If I Can't Play in the Sunshine, I'll Play in the Dark

Although I know that summer really isn't here yet here in the Pacific Northwest, we're having some serious glimpses of what is to come. Today is glorious - clear blue sky and brilliant sunshine. The dogs love it. So do I .

It's taken seven years but I have learned my lesson. Even though I love the sunshine, it doesn't love me. For lots and lots of reasons. See my other posts about Sjoggies and sunshine here and here to refresh your memory.

One of the lessons that I have learned is that my patio is situated so that it gets direct sunlight most of the day, so if I go out there, it had better be with sunscreen and a hat on and the patio umbrella up. But even when I'm slathered and hatted, it's still really easy for me to get over-heated and blechy pretty quickly out there.

I'm thinking that I'll probably enjoy the patio much more this summer if I use it in the evening hours. Which means.........

Another opportunity to decorate! To create a glowing evening ambience! To ask John to get out the ladder from the garage and hang precariously from high places! To shop for silly stuff!

Don't worry Mr. Owl, you get to stay. You're doing a fine job keeping the birds from pooping on the deck railing.

I got these patio lights at one of those discount places so they were really really inexpensive.

Honey - won't it be fun to hang these from the roof? Honey?

"Won't it be fun to hang these from the roof, honey?"

*smart-aleck hubby does a really BAD Julia voice imitation*.

Well. He sounds like a hamster that inhaled helium. Nothing at all like my cultured dulcet-toned vocalizations. Sniff. Good thing you're so stinkin' cute and a darned good light hanger or I'd be all cranky, mister.

Hm. I'm thinking patio lights, a few flower pots brimming with colorful annuals and my battery powered fireflies.

 I may bring Norman the gnome out to play. Although Norman may need a sun-hat too. He peeled severely a few summers ago, poor guy.

You look mahvelous, Norman dahlink, after your makeover last spring. Even better than new.

Ooo - I know what we need. Maybe some colorful plastic margarita glasses? Full of tasty frozen adult beverages?

Party at Julia's at eight. Y'all are invited.

Woogie Wednesdays

I'm going to have to make sure that I get serious rest on Wednesdays for the next six weeks as John and I and the mutts attend doggie obedience class. I can see that these classes are going to require some significant energy, but we're going and that's that. The time has come to lay down the doggie law.

My two schnauzers, Maggie and Lulu are hopelessly ill-mannered. I blame John for spoiling them rotten and he says that I'm the culprit. This discussion sounds familiar. Hm. Kind of like when the kids were little....and I still maintain that their dad was and is a soft touch.

They're house trained and all - the dogs and the kids - but that's about the extent of their obedience skills. Just ask Terese and Greg what happens in our house when the doorbell rings. Yowsers. Ear-splitting barking and growls and jumping and yapping. My goodness. It takes forever to settle Mags and Lulu down, and that means the poor soul that rang our doorbell is left standing on the porch wondering if someone was just ripped to shreds by a pack of wolves.

Actually, this is kind of handy when salespeople come to the door. I open the door a crack amid the snarling and chaos, and without fail, the salesperson says, "I can see that this is not a good time. I'll come back later..." as they beat a hasty retreat down the driveway.

It does not help the situation to have friends that find this hilarious. Who sneak onto the porch and then ring the doorbell like crazy just to hear the doggie frenzy. *Julia looks accusingly over the top of her glasses*. You know who you are.

So on Wednesday night, we showed up with dogs, treats, poopie bags, and leashes in hand for our first lessons. Maggie trotted in and behaved like an angel. Lulu, however, started snarling and growling the minute she stepped into the building. Which meant that we were  immediately put in the naughty doggie spot. For shame.

Oh, sure. They put a cutsie animal print fabric over it, but underneath the frufru, those are metal bars. Lulu - you put us all in the slammer. Sorry, Maggie. We're locked up due to guilt by association.

We were sprung about halfway through class when Lulu tired out and gave up the bad-dog routine. Thank goodness.

I'm glad that John can come along for these classes. After an hour and a half, Lulu and I were both bone tired. *snicker*. But it was a grrrrrrrrrrrreat class. *snort*. And six weeks from now, we're are going to have two well behaved canines, doggone it.

Dopey Diagnosis

see more Lolcats and funny pictures
Very few Sjoggies are fortunate enough to get a Sjogren's Syndrome diagnosis quickly. The average time from symptoms appearing and a diagnosis is seven years.

During those seven years, many of us have heard some really interesting "diagnosis" that were pretty strange. And incredibly wrong.

There's a great thread over at Sjogren's World Forums right now - the initial post asked readers to add their comments regarding this topic:

I thought I'd start a discussion of what was the weirdest off-the-wall, dumbest, whatever diagnosis you got from one of our "learned" professionals.

Head over there to read the entertaining responses. My favorite? A GP telling a patient that her symptoms were due to something that she got from her cat.

Decorating With Brain Fog

Do you ever just get tired of your stuff?

Sure, Sjogren's Syndrome. I'm ALWAYS tired of Sjogren's Syndrome, so that's not part of today's discussion. I know that I can't just switch out one disease for another....

But, as happens every spring, I'm antsy to change stuff that I can, um, change. Specifically stuff in our house.

This make John understandably nervous.

When I was working and had a bit more discretionary income, when the gotta-redecorate-the-entire-house bug hit, I could and did buy new things. Not huge things like a kitchen remodel or adding another bathroom. No. But I'd buy pillows, repaint, move furniture, pick up a few new paintings or lamps, that sort of junk.

Am I the only one that can't stand to see the same things in the exact same place in the house forever? John thinks I'm nuts, and of course I am, but that's beside the point.

These days I can't afford either the energy or expense to give the house a facelift every spring, but geez. I still want to. (It may be time to hide the credit cards, honey. Hm. Although I DO have the numbers for those babies memorized for online shopping.......)

I had to resort to a money saving strategy that once I used with the kids when they were little - probably ages five, three, and one. They were pretty lucky kids - aunts and uncles and grandparents and friends were very generous, not to mention Santa Claus and birthdays, so their toy room was jam packed.

One day, as I listened to one of them plead for a game advertised on television, I realized that this child already had this game, and didn't remember having it since it was buried beneath his other stuff.

Grr. Made me realize that we had to do something.

After the kids went to bed that night, John and I packed up probably a third of all their toys and games into a storage box and put it away in the attic. We wondered how long it would take the kids to notice that some of their things were gone. So, of course they never did notice. Honest. We were savvy enough to keep their favorite things out of the box.  BUT - three months later, I told the children that I had a big surprise for them, and had John haul down the attic box.

Joy! Pandemonium! Three happy kids! And it didn't cost us a dime!

Joy! Pandemonium! Two happy parents!

We got away with the mystery toy disappearance/reappearance cycle for two more years before our oldest caught on. Drat. But it was great while it lasted.

So last spring, I was thinking that the same psychology could probably work with my stash of decor items. Bratty Inner Child Julia was extremely close to breaking out into a wild shopping tantrum, and since she really is a doozy of a child, I thought perhaps the child/toy strategy could work as well with her. I suppose it's possible that my children came by their toy issues genetically.

Maybe.

John and I packed up all those knick knacks, paintings, pillows, lamps, candles, silk flowers, vases, and miscellaneous junk clutter articles of ambience that I liked - but could do without occasionally. We put them all in an unused bedroom in the house.

Now when I feel the need to redecorate, I go shopping in the guest bedroom. It sounds stupid, but it works. For the most part. I open the door, and say, "Oooooooo. Ahhhhhhh! I'll take this and this and this and this....."

How pathetic is that???

Brain fog at it's best.

For example, this painting used to hang in a bathroom. I stuck it over the fireplace, and honest to goodness, it seems like new.

I change out the pictures on this shelf whenever I get tired of looking at the same ancient relatives. Black frames, black and white pictures......so easy to make a zillion of them for cheap now that I have a scanner, a digital camera, and the Dollar Tree for cheapo black frames. I can move Grandma Ella and Grandpa Frank and replace them with Aunt Annie anytime I want to. So there.

I dug this geranium painting out of the guest room/decor stash last month. I think I got the silk geranium at a garage sale a zillion years ago. I am not certain.

Speaking of garage sales, there are times when I. JUST. HAVE. TO. BUY. SOMETHING. NEW. Thank God that when spring arrives, so do all the garage and estate sales. Even if the stuff for sale is used, to me it's different, thus new.

Look at this botanical/handmade paper picture that I scored this week. Still had the price tags stuck to it. Love it, especially when I can smugly say that I only paid $5.00.

There are two of these, but I didn't take pictures of both since I hung them unevenly. I'll get around to fixing them sometime........probably when my next redecorating fever hits.

Hey, John? Honey? Let's switch the family room couch out for the living room couch. What do you think?

Honey?

Honey?

You can run, but you can't hide, babe.

I Want More Natural Killer - T Cells, Please.

Image found here.

This is an encouraging report of a study which attempted to learn more about the mechanism of autoimmunity, specifically the role of specialized white blood cells: B cells and NKT cells:

An important component of our immune defence is a type of cell called a B cell. Normally, the job of these cells is to produce antibodies, which in turn bind to and neutralise invasive microorganisms, such as bacteria and viruses. In people with an autoimmune disease, explains Dr Karlsson, these B cells actually have an injurious effect and instead of serving the body, are activated against its own tissues, which they start to break down..........Patients with SLE and other autoimmune diseases have lower levels of so-called NKT cells. Previously, it was not known what part these cells play in the origin and development of the disease; now, however, the research group at KI has shown that this deficiency is a contributory pathogenic factor.

Interesting. A potential link between low levels of NKT cells and autoimmunity. These new treatments can't arrive soon enough.  Go get 'em, Dr. Karlsson.

"This means that new treatments specifically targeting the protective NKT cells can help this patient group," concludes Dr Karlsson.

Take A Sniff of This

John and I will have been married for thirty years this June 7th.

I think that I have this guy figured out pretty well by now, but sometimes he will do something that still can blow me away.

Today was one of those times.

We were riding around in the car doing some errands when I caught a whiff of something decidedly unpleasant. And as you know, my sniffer is seriously out of whack. I sniffed again. The odor kind of smelled like.......feet. And not in a freshly-pedicured-and-moisturized-with-a-delightful-floral-foot-creme kind of way. If you catch my drift.

I pulled off my shoes and wondered if they were the culprit. But I couldn't be sure, since I can't count on my nose to detect odors specifically or correctly. You can refresh your memory about hyposmisa (or problems with the sense of smell) here.

Here's the amazing super duper husband part:

I asked John, "Hon? Do my shoes stink?"

He looked apprehensively at me from the corner of his eyes. And keeping his voice carefully neutral, he asked why I would want to know this.

"You know I can't tell when somethings smells funky. I need to know if these shoes are really stinky. Will you smell them?"

God bless him, he TOOK THE SHOE that I handed to him and stuck his nose right into the arch support, while managing to keep to keep the car safely on the road as he nearly passed out from the stench.

"Julia. These things are nasty. Don't ever ask me to sniff them again!"

What a guy! What a fearless, shoe-sniffing (um, and kind of gullible, but don't tell him that) super hubby!

I laughed for the next three miles. At least.

My hero......

Stinky shoe image found here. 

Kitty Cat Help Desk

John and I were cruising our local hardware store yesterday. My favorite part of this store is a very cute and furry but also somewhat unhelpful cashier.

"Yes, the sign says you may ask for assistance. Please notice that it doesn't say that you'll actually get any assistance." 

"Sandpaper? You need sandpaper? Yes, ma'am. The fine grit sandpaper is indeed located directly underneath my butt. And, no, it's not convenient for me to move just now. Come back tomorrow. Or perhaps the day after."

His name is Coaster "The Great" (see signage above), and he's been a fixture - (get it? a FIXTURE in the hardware business? Oh man, I crack myself up) - in the store for the last nine years. His favorite spot is on top of the sandpaper display. Which is somewhat of a mystery to me, given the fact that there's many more comfy kitty cat napping spots in the store such as their inventory of cushioned patio furniture.

Cats. Go fig.

I think he's gained a few pounds over the years, as you can tell from the sandpaper rack.

What's that you say, Coaster? This is your more photogenic side? Your wish is my command, big guy. Show me love......

Now, if you could just direct me to the swivel snaps......No, no, don't get up. I wouldn't dream of asking.