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Showing posts from April, 2011

Asprin, Bellybuttons and Bandaids

Ah, spring.

This past weekend presented a couple of perfect 70F days with little or no wind and so we set out to rake and plant and sow seeds and celebrate the coming of a verdent summer filled with the smell of roasting brats and roses. Sunday evening, as we sat on the deck overlooking our day's work with a cold beverage in hand, it started. The first itch.

By Monday morning, my neck, nose (nothing's sacred) and chin were blistered. By Tuesday, the small families of ivy rash had moved to the top of my feet and legs. Clearly, maximum doses of Benadry and witch hazel weren't doing the job, so I cried uncle and called the clinic.

It was fairly obvious to my fellow patients why I was there. "Did you try a mud poltace?" A sweet voice whispered over her Ladies Home Journal. "Witch hazel" I replied. She nooded.

My mother grew aloe vera plants and at the onset of a rash, burn or cut would snap the end off a stalk, spit the shoot in half and bandaid the gooe…

Loosing your Marbles

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Two weeks ago, I drove to Nacogdoches to spend summer break with my granddaughter Lily, a fifth grader. Since we really didn't have anything planned, each day unfolded much as it did when I was 10. We woke up when we liked, ate what we liked, and spent most of the morning poking fun at one another's hair and choice of clothes.

The first day, I scanned the Internet looking for cool things to do in town. They'd just moved to Nacogdoches in January and immediately settled in to a new job and new school and so had not had the opportunity to scout out local fun spots. We had a picnic lunch at the arboretum and walked the azalea trail, and visited Millard's Crossing Historic Village where Lily tried the hand pump and corn husker. We made shrinky dink charms and shamrock-shapped cookies for St Patrick's Day. We didn't spend any time in front of the TV.

Since we didn't have television for most of my childhood, my brothers and I spent weekends and summer vacations i…