whales and dinosaurs and humans, oh my!

On February 11, 2012 · Leave a Comment · In adventures

We made the trek to the NC Museum of Natural History and holy crap, they’ve got a lot of BIG CRITTER BONES!  Here is Sophie in her red sweater and Paul in his hat (Luc is hidden a bit behind) as we walk into the beach/ocean display, but all I could say was OMG LOOK AT THOSE WHALE BONES.

Sophie was similarly impressed.

I mean, who can pay any attention to fake sand dunes and stuffed seagulls when there are vertebra the size of my sofa hanging overhead?  Whales are so cool and see, they had their actual bones up there (or, I don’t know, really realistic copies), and see how freaking BIG they are?  Jeezus, I’m just a puny little squirt of a mammal—

Here are the same bones from the second floor…

…and the third floor.

I just can’t get enough of these bones!

But after awhile the kids wanted to go look through the three-story forest display, “Come ON, Mom,” said Luc, pulling me with his entire (tiny) body weight.  Okay, okay we’ll go—

I admit, I didn’t enjoy the forest nearly as much. It looked like a super dusty version of our backyard.  The stuffed critters kept whispering to me about how they wanted to rest in peace and I kept sneezing.  “Don’t y’all want to go back and look at those whale bones?”

“NO!”

But at last the kids were ready to move on from the moth eaten squirrels and dust covered fake trees and we ended up in an area full of MORE GIANT BONES.  This time, DINOSAURS!

“Mom, I’m the size of one of their feet.  That’s big.”

Wow!  See Sophie who doesn’t even come up to this dinosaur’s knee?  But I kind of feel sorry that this fellow was crafted to be mid-fight and therefore has that nasty fake leg wound from the pteranodons flying above (no picture, sorry, too back-lit) frozen forever mid-scream, poor baby.  Why couldn’t he/she be forever eating some nice leafy greens, or looking at a sunset or something?  I guess violence sells.

There was also giant prehistoric shark teeth, ridiculously big, and one set of Giant Sloth bones in the extinct ancient mammal section that was simply enormous, why do I not have a picture of that guy?  His big toe claw was the size of our dog. Giant bones for the win!

As you might have noticed, l I found the bones cool and the stuffed animals…disturbing.  The insects—roaches! spiders! joy!—made me run screaming from the room while Sophie laughed, taunting me.  The fish, snakes, and turtles to be seen in various tanks throughout the place were okay, but they always seem beleaguered by the masses tapping on their glass—why must we tap, knocking our nails right beside the taped up sign that says not to?  I guess I’m afflicted with too much empathy to truly enjoy a small, tanked turtle being stared at by thousands of over-stimulated humans.  It’s just too weird.  Luc said probably the turtles talked about us behind our backs, and this fantasy helped, but I can’t help but be aware of Homo Sapien’s ability to enjoy the suffering of others.

But I digress.  The butterfly house was cool.  I mean, it was HOT, and humid, which I loved, because I’m a swamp girl by genetics, although Paul was miserable, being ancestrally from desert.  “My pores are so happy in here!” I said, “And look, my hair is curling!”  to which Sophie said, “You’re weird, Mom.”  Sadly, the museum workers hustled us through at a fast march, much to Paul’s relief, due to the lines.  Oh well.  Don’t you just love those Morpho butterflies, you know, the ones that are dowdy brown on the outside and then this shocking ELECTRIC BLUE on the inside?  Us dowdy types all know we’re really electric blue, no matter what anyone might think.

But hands down, this display was my favorite: Humans At Work.  See that cute one in the center, checking his iphone?

Paul cracks me up.

To be honest, I was a little freaked out by the number of Humans we saw, particularly the number of terribly sick humans—was there a bus pulled up from the local Sick Human Shelter maybe?  Oxygen tanks, wheel chairs, morbidly obese folk…it just seemed like a weirdly high concentration of illness and disability.  I hope they found the bones as fun and distracting as I did.

We missed the Ghengis Khan special exhibit because, hey, it wasn’t free and we’re broke.  But all in all, we had a good time, despite the dust, crowds, and oxygen tanks.

But the best part for the kids, it turned out, was smashing pennies in the penny smasher to add to our collection…

All those giant bones and they picked the penny smasher as their favorite.  I kind of love that.  Know what you like and don’t be swayed by the flashy stuff if it ain’t your scene.  It’s a lesson to live by.

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state of the backbend feb 2012

On February 8, 2012 · Leave a Comment · In yoga

It’s that time again, the bi-annual status report on my spine! In a few weeks I turn 41 and will have been practicing Ashtanga yoga for two and a half years. Seems like a good time to pause and take stock, yes?

First, a quick retrospective.

Winter 2009 (after six months of practice)

Summer 2010 (one year of practice)

Summer 2011 (two years of practice)

Winter 2012 (today)

Here’s one with my heels down:

Sidebar: Henry, my dog, knows the Primary Series. It has become the routine that I take him for a walk when I finish yoga, so he has a vested interest in the whole thing. When I start Surys, he goes over to the sofa, flops down, and goes to sleep. When I start doing seated, he opens one eye and watches. When I get to the butt-balance poses, he lifts his head. When I get to backbends, he comes and sits beside my mat. For the rest of the practice, he scoots closer and closer until he has sneakily (he thinks) gotten right up on the mat and is staring at me. I have to shoo him off for headstand lest I crash land on his fuzzy self.

Anyway. The backbend, hmm, I don’t know if it looks any better, really, but it feels more comfortable, so that’s something. In the first photo, it looks like one of my hands is forward of the other, not sure if that is the angle of the camera or not, but I’ll watch that. The fact that heels up make it look slightly more balanced over the shoulders makes me think maybe some hip-flexor and psoas stretching might be as helpful (or more?) than the upper back opening I’ve been focused on. Duh.

Well, miniscule changes are better than none. The increased comfort is nothing to sneeze at, although I wouldn’t call this a comfortable pose by any stretch of the imagination. It’s a strain to be up there. What do I need, more shoulder strength? Or will just getting my arms straight up and down put some of the work on the bones and less on the muscles?

If I take a quick peek at a bunch of other ashtanga folk’s back bends….

…then it’s apparent that legs are generally much straighter than mine, as well as the obvious arms going straight up and down, not at an angle. It seems impossible! Well, maybe I’m like Henry, scooting microscopically closer and closer to the goal.

It’s a work in progress.

Back to the sidebar: Henry happily licks my toes during savasana, corpse, the last pose of the series. Actually, the kids call this final resting pose Loveasana, because they come and lay down on me while I do it.

My toes are so CLEAN by the time I get up!

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stefan grossman is the real deal, if you ask me

On February 6, 2012 · 4 Comments · In mayalife

I’m still playing my little parlor guitar most evenings, sometimes just for a few minutes, but enough anyway so that my callouses don’t disappear. I think it is so amazing (and ironic) how playing the blues can make me so happy. It totally has this power.

Here is a wonderful video of Stefan Grossman, my teacher—I think of him that way, I hope he doesn’t mind, because I have SO enjoyed his many teaching videos—playing some terrific blues thirty years ago and cracking jokes while he does so. Maybe the blues makes him happy, too:

Here he is again, talking about how he started playing guitar as a kid, taking lessons at 5 bucks a pop from the legendary Rev. Gary Davis over in a shack in Brooklyn (wow!), plus some fancy picking of Mr. Davis’s song, “Twelve Sticks.”

And one more vid, to bring it all up to the present, here he is playing in 2010 with blues master Keb Mo at the Crossroads Festival in Chicago. This whole video is terrific but if you want to see some awesome double slide guitar, go to the 5 minute mark, you won’t regret it:

It’s been delightful this last year and a half, leisurely working my way through a stack of Mr. Grossman’s lessons, learning country style fingerpicking and old style blues. I’m learning Shake Sugaree by Elizabeth Cotton right now, a sweet little song, from this set of lessons.

I’ve also worked through this one, this one, and dabbled in this one. I don’t know if I’ll ever be any good (lord knows I’m terrible now), but my enjoyment is the main thing. In my opinion, everybody ought to have some hobby they enjoy for no good reason, to achieve nothing, just because it’s fun. What’s yours?

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another overheard conversation

On February 4, 2012 · Leave a Comment · In kiddo life

Luc is sitting on a skateboard, rolling through the yurt, la la la, thinking about whatever Luc thinks about while idling on a skateboard.

Sophie comes along and lays down in front of him. “I’ll be the road kill.” She sticks out of her tongue, making a grunting “I’m dead” sound.

Luc, not missing a beat, scrunches up his face, rolls towards her, and in his best Old Guy Voice rasps, “God damn road kill.”

These kids crack me up.

 

a conversation overheard

On February 3, 2012 · Leave a Comment · In kiddo life

Luc is fascinated by war games. Playing “army men” with a thousand little people, animals, aliens, and monsters, plus setting up massive bunkers and fortresses out of blocks and legos and castles, endlessly working out battle strategies and outcomes. “Look at my line up!” he says. “Who do you think will win?” is his favorite conversation.

Today, Sophie had had enough. “Luc, all you want to do is war. I’m sick of war. You love war too much!”

Luc rolled his eyes. “I do not love war. I love PLAYING war.”

My ears perked up.

“If there was a real war,” Luc went on, building up a lego robot, “I would run away. If there was a war in our country, I would move. Playing war is fun. Real war is stupid.”

I swear to god, that’s what he said. I mean, how wise is that? My kid needs to sit down with some world leaders and explain this whole War vs Playing War thing to them, don’t you think? What a great distinction to make.

Sophie, on the other hand, was unimpressed. “Fine,” she said, “but I want to play Yard Sale.”

Battle vs Commerce. The timeless conflict.

 

the SS Novel 2012 is underway

On February 1, 2012 · 2 Comments · In writing

This past Sunday I officially started a new novel. [Fireworks!] It had been so long since I was last drafting (what you call it when you’re facing the Blank Page a.k.a. the pulling stuff out of your bum phase) that I felt the need to prop myself with lots of, um, props. The last six months I’ve been in editing mode, so this was getting back on a bike I hadn’t ridden in a while. I left the kids with Paul, went to the library, got a chai (it’s a very cool library), got out a brand new yellow legal tablet and a brand new jetstream pen, all the trappings of “writer” haha, and I started.

Of course, none of these fetish items are required to write a novel. But it was nice anyway, like playing pretend. You have to have the right hat and maybe a hook or at the very least a bandana to play Pirate. I needed a chai and a legal tablet to play Writer, and I needed to play Writer in order to help myself remember how to Write.

It was great! Like [smacks forehead], oh yeah! I like doing this! A lot! Writing makes me happy!

I have had to relearn this so many times, it’s embarrassing. I just forget. I get distracted, I work on the publishing side, I get busy, and I start getting depressed. Why do I write? Why do I bother? I start moping and feeling pitiful and I FORGET that it’s all because I’m not writing. Basically, if I don’t write, I get symptoms. And they aren’t pretty. Writing keeps depression at bay. I don’t know why, it just is. Graphomania perhaps?

But whatever. I’m back! I’m doing it! 1000 words a day, the old mantra, taken down from the shelf and dusted off.

As a terrific champagne bottle smash against the hull of SS Novel 2012, I got a lovely, lovely fan letter yesterday from a reader of Toby Streams the Universe who had really liked the book and the characters and wanted to tell me so. That was EXTREMELY PLEASANT.

Anyway, I back in the familiar confusion and craziness of making shit up. Inventing something out of nothing. Fun! Hard. Fun! Hard.

 

like i needed a second yoga practice

On January 30, 2012 · Leave a Comment · In yoga

Because my days are just adrift with wide open spaces of nothing to do, I’ve added a second, daily, yoga practice to my schedule. Madness! It all started with that video going around of the scantily clad Briohny Smyth doing some lovely yoga for a commercial for something (what? I couldn’t figure it out), which led my internet click clicking to another video of her doing a press-to-handstand tutorial of sorts where she drags her feet gracefully in from Down Dog and then up into a floaty handstand. Here it is:

I showed this to Sophie because Sophie has been working on her handstand for years, every night, for fun, starting with cartwheels when she was four. Basically she hops up into a handstand over and over and over and tryies to stay up as long as she can. Ms. Smyth has slow-mo control and I thought Sophie would like it for that and for the beauty of the move, and she did. But, Sophie discovered, control requires a lot more strength than her usual momentum approach. “I can’t lift my feet off the ground like that,” she said. “They just won’t lift.”

I know the feeling.

A couple of days later I ran across David Garrigues video on how to “float” which is what an ashtangi calls moving through the Sury’s, the Sun Salutations, with that same slow-mo control that makes it look like they are doing the whole thing in a low gravitational field, like, possibly, on the moon. In the vid, David suggests this rocking back and forth thing, from feet to hands, to develop bandha/core strength. I tried it and sure enough, my abs were sore the next day. Hmmm.

David Garrigues presents Asana Kitchen: How to Float from David Garrigues on Vimeo.

But, thought I, this motion, this in-control lifting the feet up off the ground, this is the same as the start for Sophie’s handstand—so I showed her that video, too, and we both got up and tried it, liked it, and decided to do it regularly. Me for my pathetic jump backs and her for her press-to-handstand quest. So, every night for a week now we’ve done Mr. Garrigues’s abs-killer rocking thing until we groan.

And then, since I’m down there on the floor on my mat, and the Boy Crew (that would be Paul and Luc) are usually watching something on tv, or possibly playing Legos or Star Wars or Lego Starwars, hey, why not do a little yin yoga hip openers? Because lots of poses would be more fun if I could do a more comfortable lotus. Sophie likes lotus, so she does that with me. And after that, draping myself over a folding chair for some passive supported back bending is a nice way to finish it off…. So of course Sophie has to do a few drop backs.

We’re not talking a deep, meditative, focused practice, I know that. It’s purely physical, kind of extracurricular to the Real Practice. But always fun to practice with Sophie. And it’s more engaged that I usually tend to be in the evenings when often all I want to do is read a book. I sometimes feel guilty about that. There will plenty of time to read books when my kids are grown! The books will wait. My kids, however, are growing up at the speed of light. Better to spend the time with them now, while I still can.

Speaking of kids, Sophie is THE huge motivator in all this, I have to admit, because she WILL learn that press-to-handstand, nothing in the ‘Verse can stop her, and she practices every night. She shames me into it.

Oh well, any reason to get on the mat is a good reason if it works, right? Only if I’m practicing can the yoga to do its transformational magic.

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drive, the surprising truth about what motivates us, ANIMATED

On January 27, 2012 · 1 Comment · In mayalife, reviews

Time for something different! Here is a cool animation of Dan Pink’s work, based on material from his book Drive: the Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us that I ran across on Tobias Buckell’s site. Motivation isn’t what people and economics tend to think! People aren’t simple! But here, watch for yourself:

Basically, people want autonomy, mastery, and purpose a heck of a lot more than they want rewards like incentive bonuses, that is, reward and punishment as motivation only goes so far and that isn’t very far at all. The science says that carrot and stick might work for compliance, but it doesn’t lead to high performance in any sort of work that requires actual thought and creative effort. You just don’t get the best out of people by trying to buy it.

This is not surprising to me, but I would point out that this work looks at people and work and jobs and money, not children and parenting, where I have my experience. If/then reward/punishment is a basic parenting philosophy so deeply ingrained that it’s hard to even see it, much less challenge it, but I do, I challenge it, every chance I get.

Children are humans, they want autonomy, mastery, and purpose too. Giving a human a sticker for obeying your weird requests is…well, it’s insulting really. It’s like buying Manhattan for a handful of glass beads. But, I’ve noticed that adults have no problem insulting younger humans. They do it all the time in a million ways without even thinking about it. Kind of pisses me off, actually. Like the endless jokes about teenagers. Imagine if those same jokes were being made ubiquitously about African American people or women and you can start to see the deep vein of prejudice against young people we’ve got going on here. But I digress.

(Oh, heck, here’s a little more digression: I bet the people who made that Manhattan deal, the Native Americans who took the beads, I bet they thought they were pulling quite a fast one on those stupid whities. Like selling the Brooklyn Bridge. I bet they had no idea that the white folk would or could actually take control of what clearly couldn’t be sold, the Land, the B. Bridge. This is just my theory, but I’m sticking to it till I hear something better.)

I like Mr. Pink’s work very much (even if he doesn’t bring up kids, no one is perfect). Basically, we get excited about getting really good at stuff, solving important and interesting problems, and being self-directed (whatever our age) and treating humans like dummies gets you (apparent) dummies for employees/students/etc. It’s interesting with regard to writing and creative life, and helpful in setting up that part of my life in ways that ARE truly motivating. Which makes it easier to meet goals. I want my work to matter, I want to keep getting better at it, I want to be free to do it they way I want. Paychecks are motivating in the short term but working only for the money leads to burn out and deadens the part of me that gives a shit.

Summary. Set people free to pursue the things that matter to them and you get cool amazing stuff/ideas/solutions/art you never thought of. Set up a bunch of hoops and punish/reward for compliance and you won’t get anything beyond what you had already thought up—and you get unhappy, unsatisfied people, too.

Ahem. Here ends today’s philosophical ramblings.

 

ashtanga after 40

On January 25, 2012 · 2 Comments · In yoga

Claudia did a terrific post over on her blog on ashtanga for folks over 40 yesterday. As someone who will be turning 41 in a few weeks, I read with interest and my mind has been turning the topic over this morning— especially as I watch my nearly 8 year old daughter flip her body effortlessly into amazing asana. Yoga is different for an older body, there’s no way around it. I thought of commenting on Claudia’s blog, but it got too long, so I thought I’d post here. Thanks Claudia for a great post and a great blog!

I started Ashtanga at 38, after six years of pregnancy, babies, nursing and no exercise. I was stiff as a board, had zero backwards range of motion, could barely sit cross-legged on the floor and my back hurt all the time. But I remembered a time, an eon before, when I did a stint of Iyengar yoga in my twenties. What a difference twenty years makes! But in the comparison, I think the number one difference in yoga after 40 isn’t the lack of bendiness, although there is that (lord help me, there is that). In my opinion, the biggest difference between 20 and 40 is recovery time. It just takes longer to bounce back, either from an intense practice session, but also, and especially, from an injury.

I damaged my hamstring attachment (the classic yogi pain-in-the-butt injury) last year and I still feel it sometimes. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m babying that right sit-bone for the rest of my life. Stupid! I was muscling my way into forward bends, forehead to the shins, just like I had in my twenties—bad lady! Ouch! Followed by endless recovery that never seems to be truly complete. I remember bouncing back from injuries like nothing in my twenties. Boing! Oh, how I miss that!

So the big take-away for me from that has been DON’T GET HURT. EVER. It’s Claudia’s #1: Go Slow. Go at 50% capacity. Actually move more slowly, too, no jerking, no sudden shifts. Ease into each posture and then ease back out again. If anything twings, even a little, back off, modify, do an easier version of the pose. Don’t ignore any ouch, no matter how small. And for goodness sake, NO HEROIC EFFORTS. In my twenties, blasting it out in an all-or-nothing practice was fun, like extreme sports, woo hoo! But no more. One blown knee, one hurt neck, and it has become apparent to me that I might lose the practice altogether. Plus, healing means scar tissue and scar tissue means permanent loss of flexibility and strength in that area. It takes for freaking ever, now, just to get back to something like normal, but after injury, normal isn’t the same normal as it was. After 40, I simply must be more careful with my body.

Which brings me to my second biggest post-40 difference: Diet matters more. One of the biggest things I’ve found that helps with recovery time, for me, is diet. High quality nutrition in easy to digest form (raw fruits and veggies) has made a huge difference in recovery, energy levels, and I don’t know what to call it—brightness during practice. There is also the fact that I could process a bunch of crazy food and substances a lot faster in my twenties and not be hit so hard, foods that leave me groggy, chubby, dull, and weak now. Really, practice the day after an all veggie day, or better yet, an all raw day VS. practice the day after an indulgence day is like black and white, it’s so clear, there is no question in my mind about this. Diet is a huge part in having the energy to practice, at any age, but I really believe it matters a heck of a lot more the older I get. Plus, practice while feeling dull and zombie-like is no fun, and the older I get, the longer the effects of bad food last.

A side effect of improving and veggifying my diet: dropping the extra pounds that seem to come with being over 40—which makes practice easier from a simple physics perspective. I have less to lift and I can twist deeper without those tummy rolls. Being tiny was easier in my 20s. I’m working against the hormonal tide now to stay small. Going all veggie has helped.

I asked David Williams, who is now in his sixties, what his current practice is and he said Primary, plus a daily swim in the Pacific ocean. David is, of course, one of the few people in the world who has done all six Ashtanga series, so I was curious when he had started cutting out the advanced asana. He said in his fifties. I’ve heard that number from a few sources, that you can add to your practice only up to a point, somewhere in your fifties, and then, inevitably, you’re going to start slowing down and doing less. So, maybe I’ve got another decade to add whatever asana might be added. If I was in my twenties, I’d have thirty more years, not just ten. That’s a huge difference in 20 and 40 right there. Sob! Good thing yoga isn’t really about the asana.

But here’s something that being over 40 gives me that I didn’t have in my twenties. Mental stamina. Dedication. Lack of flibbertygibbet flights of fancy flitting from this thing to that thing. Maybe it’s just sheer stubbornness. But I wanted to have a daily practice in my twenties and I just couldn’t get it together to do that. Whereas now I can. Maturity isn’t all about being stiff and grumpy. Kudos to the twenty-somethings who ARE able to do this practice every day! I couldn’t, when I was that young.

 

juice me, baby

On January 23, 2012 · 14 Comments · In food, mayalife

Okay, after watching Fat Sick and Nearly Dead, I’m thinking I need a juicer. Plus, we went to a big museum full of people and their kids oogling the dinosaur bones (we looooove the dinosaur bones) and I was struck in a painful, eye-popping way by the huge percentage of hugely overweight and sickly looking North Carolinians that were out and about. I kept thinking, “yo, people, juice fast, you totally need to try this, and watch this movie—”

No, I did NOT turn into a proselytizing nut-case, but I kind of was one on the inside, a little bit. Just a little.

So, anyway, Paul, hearing my thoughts on this, did his amazing instantaneous manifestation thing and found a used Champion juicer for $20 bucks at a yard sale. The four of us crowded around that bad boy, taking turns feeding stuff into it, like, “here, stick this frozen banana in!”, “what about oranges and kale?”, “what else is in the crisper?”, and “can you juice corn?” (No.) The frozen banana was AWESOME, like soft serve ice-cream. The kids liked carrot and apple, which truly was amazing. We even tried some of the green juice that Joe in Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead lived off of: kale, cuke, celery, lemon, ginger, and apple. Bright green, a little like grassy ginger-ale. It was okay. Not as good as the frozen banana. But man, I’m sold. Fresh juice is terrific. Who would have thought?

But this old juicer is a behemoth. I live in a yurt, okay? I’ve got about eighteen square inches of counter space and no kitchen cabinets. The Champion takes up all the space I’ve got and I’ve got no place to store it. Plus, it’s kind of rusty where the auger slides on which makes it super hard to put together and take apart… It ain’t ideal. In fact, its primary selling point is that it’s here. The best juicer is the one you’ve got, right? But still. I’ve been casting longing glances over other juicer alternatives….

And MAN, juicers have a lot of hype attached to them. It’s hard to imagine this kind of hyperbole and snake-oil vibe surrounding, say, a toaster. I guess anything that someone sells via infomercial is automatically going to be artificially pumped up. Anything associated with weight loss, especially. Makes it hard for a girl to hack through the weeds to find a decent juicer—I mean, I’d love it if the dang thing cures cancer, makes all who touch it multi-orgasmic, and does the dishes for me, don’t get me wrong. But basically, I just want to drink some juice.

A while back, I heard this guy, John Kohler, speak about how he had turned his tiny suburban lot into a bounty of intensive food-producing gardens and started a little youtube gardening show about it. He seemed cool and was on fire about growing your own stuff in a tiny amount of space, re-mineralizing the soil with rock dust, and self-watering raised beds.

Look, here he is walking through his garden, showing off about a million different kinds of vegetables and fruits all crammed into this tiny, property-line to property-line space:

Isn’t that cool? So, anyway, I’m clicking around, looking for juicer info and I stumble upon Mr. Kohler again, and it turns out he isn’t just a gardener, he sells juicers, too. And when he isn’t youtubing about gardening, he does all these little vids comparing different juicers, doing reviews, etc. Nice. He had some cred with me already because of the gardening thing, so I tooled around his juicer site a bit and he likes this juicer which has a small footprint and does greens (not all do), so yay, looks great. But the price tag! Oy!

Enter my amazon points card. I run everything through that card and I get gift certificates to amazon every month as a result. Woo hoo! Our last points-cashed-in freebie was a Playstation 3 for Christmas. Score! So, I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Kohler, I’d like to buy a juicer from you, but you see, I’ve got a hundred bucks already saved up in the form of amazon points. And I feel kind of guilty about this because I looked through your vids and used your research…. Plus my very generous mother just kicked in several thousand $$$ towards part of Luc’s broken-arm hospital bill (YAY, THANKS MOM! You’re keeping the wolf at the door away, you rock!) so when I pay that amount off today (using the amazon credit card) that will be another hundred dollars of amazon money and I’ll be almost to that sparkling new juicer….

So yeah, Juice Party at the yurt, and you’re all invited! Like, soon. Maybe by my birthday, 41 fast approaching. I’m telling you, I’m going to have health just exploding out of me with a golden wattage that is BLINDING. I’ll probably even levitate. You watch. Maybe I’ll even set up a little stand outside the museum and feed juice to the sickly-looking North Carolinians. They need it.

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