Hello all you mums out there. What do you think of Minnie? I am very proud of her and her achievements, of course as proud as any Mum could be. As I sit in the wings and bask in reflected glory, I start to wonder what I can donate to the world. As I have not an ounce of musical ability, I have a considerable amount of life knowledge. So I have decided to have my own page, and write about things that I have learnt from day to day. Some things have a lot to do with children, others are way out on a limb, and there are also a few natural remedies I would like to share. May I add, before you read any further, that none of this is backed up by any medical expertise, and the only one who can be held accountable is me, so if you would like to write back and argue the point - please do! I would relish any feedback, or extra discussion, and any relevant information you have, I will add to this page as time goes by, including first names. Back in not too distant times, discussion in groups was about the only way people got information, and some bits and pieces can only be donated by you - together we can work out the best ways to do things without visiting the doctor (which I never do, by the way).

Role Models

Most of us women look to our mums as role models, or we should! After all, we are alive, and don't forget, they did the best they could. No mother ever goes out to be the worst. But who do we look to for guidance? Most should bring our own childhood into the discussion, so as I am on my own here, here's mine, and how I view my upbringing, with my stay-at-home mum.

The children (brats)
There were 5 of us. The eldest son, Sam, was your typical born to doting parents who want the best. Sam was oh! so clever. Much time was spent on the "only" child while he was the only one. Look what Sam can do, look what we have got him to do! What a performing little monkey. Oh he wants to get away with that, what a funny little boy, look he made his own decision, what a clever little chap! Wrong! By the time I came along two years later, Mum had her hands full, and gone were the days of fawning over the spoilt one. And along came another, and another, and another. By then we were just a bunch of kids who had to be kept in line. Except for Sam. The damage had been done, and Sam who would have liked to have been an only child, became the one who wouldn't toe the line. Us younger ones were kept strictly under control, what mum said was done or else!

The teenagers
Sam was a very clever kid, and was the only one who went on to tertiary education. Us three middle ones went through all our school years with Mum always being there for us. At that stage of life, it seemed lousy that we couldn't sneak away, or miss school, or burp without it being noted. When the youngest Bob went to secondary school, Mum got a job, and had no idea Bob was skipping classes and going around the neighborhood with his mates generally creating a nuisance. We all had questionable friends, but I never followed them and did what they did if I thought it was wrong. I just sort of hung about in the wings, and declined politely when things were offered.

The grown-ups
In the end, we tell different stories. Sam the eldest and Bob the youngest speak kindly of their childhood. In contrast, us three middle ones, me especially, rave to whoever may listen how we had the best childhood. I look back with adults eyes on the fact that I felt so secure with Mum there, and if she wasn't, I would have probably been down smoking drugs with my wayward friends. I never would have, and would never now, do anything to make Mum ashamed of me, (though I knew many ways how to). And I still ask for her opinion, and want her to be proud of my achievements. Like when I used to rush home to show her a gold star on my reading book, and she told me I was so clever, gave me a kiss and told me to go out and play. That's all I needed to feel loved. Never forgetting Dad, who worked long hours, and came home in time to let me squeal and jump into his arms for a big hug, then a chapter of the "Just So Stories" at bedtime. Apart from taking us to the rubbish dump on Sundays, we didn't spend a lot of time with him, but he loved me and I loved him, and we were all loved loved LOVED.

One thing always sticks in my mind regarding doing as one is told. Mum told me as I was coming of driving age to never, never drive in the gravel at the side of the road, as I would lose control of the car. I never forgot and years later, I realized that I could drive in the gravel if I was very careful, and not lose control. But it was only when I was of adult age that I was able to make that decision. While we were children, it was Mum's way of keeping us under the strictest rule, and as adults, we can now step over the line....slightly.

Interestingly enough I received an email recently from my brother which sums up what happens in marriage breakdowns today. This is a rough cut and paste of his "quote", and as you will see, he is a far better writer than I. He is talking about some friends of his who have separated:

Speaking of kids, I keep in touch with Barbara and her two daughters Gretel and Fiona. Gretel mentioned to me last night that a) Dad had moved out, and b) it was nice because of no more fighting. God help us!!! How shallow are the promises modern-day people make when they marry? Why do they bother? Our Mum and Dad were too sensible to make us kids part of any marital difficulties they PROBABLY had. As far as I was concerned, I had the BEST mum and The BEST Dad in creation. Perceptions might change with time, which is natural. Making kids part of an awkward scenario and forcing them to participate in breakdowns, when all they want is love and stability, blows my mind.

The moral is.....
I don't really know if there is a moral. But I find that the standards and ethics that parents bestow on their children decide whether they are to be a follower, or a leader, or just stand on their own and have enough behind them to make their own decisions. By the time I was 18, I never lied, always stood up for myself if I believed I was right, never felt embarrassed to ask again and again if I didn't understand, and never followed the crowd. And most have all I have grown up to be obnoxious, single-minded, loud-mouthed, and probably a little too tactless. But hey! I love myself, and that is the most important thing!

Drooping face

Here's my first left-of-centre! How many of us aren't too young any more, and need a face-lift? Comon - hands up. Funnily enough, I don't suffer, and should. So what's my secret? Well, we all know about drooping arm, and drooping stomach etc - me too. As we get older, and lazier, we do less, because WE'VE EARNED IT! haven't we?? Seriously now, who runs and jumps and lifts as much as they did when they were - say - 17? I see only a handful put up their tight little arms. We haven't been exercising our muscles, keeping them tort and trim and toned. Well, I hear you say, what has this to do with your tight little face? My answer is this. I have always had this nasty habit of chewing gum, DISGUSTINGLY. I LOVE GUM. But I don't chew it ladylike with my mouth closed. I chew with my mouth open, contorting my cheeks and pulling that skin on my neck. In fact my whole face moves. I have had best friends move two seats away from me in embarrassment all my life, but it has paid off. So if you want to fix those drooping face horrors, spend a dollar, close the door, and chew very loudly for an hour a day. It hurts, but it's worth it.

Drooping ?

Here's one for the men. I've been thinking about this for a week, and probably need some feedback. Delicate subject, but I'll give it a go. I have taken up walking lately seeing as I have a new puppy, and it has made me feel so good, I have been walking faster and sometimes....jogging! Whilst jogging, puffing and sweating and getting the blood pumping, I have reflected on men, and how they seem to lose their... um.....upstanding members of the community as they get older. There it is - out in the open. Members rely on blood flow, and stamina, and how many men jog, puff and sweat after the age of, say, 40? And those who build up a sweat, and puff and keep their blood pumping probably don't have a problem in that department. I'm buying my husband a pair of running shorts and joggers first thing tomorrow morning!
I know it's not a good look, but we should all probably do something every day that gets that blood going so fast that the buildup on the veins and arteries all gets carried away that much faster. Personally I go red in the face- family trait-so red that I look like a beetroot. But if we all exerted ourselves together, I wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb. Follow me - let's go!

I have this wonderful book at home called "The Book of Natural Remedies", and I call it my bible. The best weird remedy I found one day after picking up a soldering iron by the wrong end, while it was still on. After 4 hours of ice, my fingers still had two little white burn marks that hurt like hell, and after reading the chapter in the book, decided the most "way out" remedy was linseed oil. Miracle of miracles, the pain subsided in 5 seconds flat. I could still feel that there was something there, but it was dead, like a pain killer was slapped on. I wrapped my fingers in bandage, and poured on the oil, and about 2 messy hours later I took off the bandages, and all was A O K. Give it a shot.

After about 40, as I have said before, we get lazy, most of us. In fact I know of people who decided that they really don't even want to walk any more, so park as close as possible to the door, and take as few steps as possible. Then they can lie on the couch all day and eat choccy and bikkies and pizza till the cows come home. This is very bad, very very naughty. This is not how to die right! Come on and think about it. Wouldn't we all like to die peacefully in our sleep at the age of 90, with people saying what a great, healthy person we were, so why did we die like that. Why? Because it is the best way. Is is better to die of emphysema, or liver dysfunction, or high blood pressure, sitting in a wheel chair or lying in a hospital bed having all our bits done for us? We have to work hard to die right. Make the most of every day, a little bit at a time, don't want to die of a heart attack at 50. Start off slow, take up yoga, breath a bit heavier. Then maybe wash the car by hand, bend, stand up, that's it, and again, hard work isn't it? And maybe you might be a bit sore, but you'll sleep like a log. Get out the saw and cut off those low tree branches, it might take a few goes, but it is worth it. It is much more worth it to die fit and healthy, but peacefully, and intact.

Happened to mention to my mother the other day that I had a problem with tinea. She replied "easy" - just take a little more time after a shower and dry between your toes. Interesting how much of an idiot you feel being told something so obvious. And guess what?? It works.

Oh, I can hear you groan, not that foul smelling, foul tasting, utterly revolting, @#*%#! thing that takes up pages in my favourite magazines. Well bad luck, cos this is what life is all about. It is the one best amazing wonderful thing that saved me - a rubbish food addict - from a life of blocked intestines, colds and flu, bad bad BAD circulation, pimples, and rheumatoid arthritis. I've left this for a while until you realised that I wasn't some raving nutter - well maybe you think I am, but if you have read this far, I must have some credibility!
When "reforming" drug addicts drink ACV to give a positive blood test, there must be something to it. ACV purifies your blood, which carries away all wastes and cleans out your system, and incorporates my next subject - Have Your Bowels Moved Today? - a very important question that doctors used to ask, but don't any more. We are supposed to eat a healthy diet, fruit and vegetables, grains etc, but most of us don't. It is very important that all that nasty waste doesn't choke us up. It must move quite quickly through, and out the other end, leaving all the healthy stuff inside. I know from personal experience, if this doesn't happen to me, and I miss a day or two, I will catch the first thing going around. In fact, I'll probably start it. So two nasty mouthfuls a week (and an extra one if someone coughs) has stopped me from having even the littlest sniffle in the last 15 years. The taste, and slight nausea (only joking) lasts for about 5 seconds. From talking to people, only 1 in 10 heeds my advice, and those that do laud the merits of ACV back to me, as if I have given them the elixir of life. Well I have.
Repeating what I said earlier, none of what is written here is supported by any medical facts. Just believe it.....or not.

Case 1: My mother's grandfather was a Homeopathic doctor in the late 1900's, and she recalls from her childhood coming home many times after visiting a family across the road. Her mother would scold her for "visiting that family with tuberculosis" and make her drink vinegar. She says it was just plain vinegar, and needless to say, she never caught tuberculosis!
Case 2: My best friend Sam used to suffer horribly from tonsilitis and sinusitis. Fever, nausea, wanting to die etc. In the 10 years since she has been drinking ACV - not a trace of either.
Case 3: A very fit looking man in his 50's overheard me one day praising ACV, and told me that not 2 years ago, he was one of those arthritic people in wheelchairs, unable to move, visiting the doctor for tablets, shots and painkillers. Within 2 weeks of drinking half a glass a day (lord save us!) of ACV, he was able to walk again, and now he had gone back to his old profession of French polishing. Obviously we all need different doses - some need lots to clean out their poisons, I have one mouthful twice a week.

Most teenagers and some of us mums still suffer from that age old crater face disease. My downfall is chocolate. Have some chocolate, get a pimple - anywhere! Funnily enough it doesn't happen with white chocolate, just the darker stuff. Before you even start trying to fix the problem, remember the old saying "you are what you eat". You may say it is in the genes, but believe me, that can be changed, as easily as changing your jeans. Pimples appear because your body is trying to get rid of those dreaded wastes, and with most people it happens on the face. So attacking with creams on the outside is not the cure. Get it? My sister suffered horribly when she was young, and my mother spent thousands on specialists. But I remember it oh so vividly.....for some reason someone mentioned drinking hot lemon juice and water every morning, and within a week, her pimples had reduced to tiny little red bumps, then disappeared completely! I had to remind her of this remedy when both her teenage boys suffered the same, and she had forgotten all about it. Voila! Theirs disappeared too. Give it a try, please. I have never known this to fail.

Us aging gals really need to know this information, and I mean really! I have a close male friend, one of those who speaks his mind to you, not the sort who lie just to make you feel happy. We chat about many things, and I have come to realise that us gals look at ourselves in the mirror, and judge ourselves from a women's point of view, not a mans. I mean things like - well men love long hair, but we cut it off because our friends say it's trendy. And we tend to wear lots of make-up. Of course we want to cover up all our problems, but men in their little groups discuss as as "that woman with too much make-up on". True!! But the one that has really made me rethink my body is that men (and I don't necessarily mean your husband or partner) don't give a rats arse if your boobs point north and your nipples point south. This particular male loves it if he can see the faintest sight of a fold. He can't understand that we are embarrassed about the shape and size, he just loves them any old way packaged!! I still can't seem to get my head around this, but you go question a man about it, I'll bet you get the same answer.