In the June 2008 issue of Scientific American an article written by Jessica Wapner states that blogging is good for one's health. She says: Self-medication may be the reason the blogosphere has taken off.
Scientists (and writers) have long known about the therapeutic benefits of
writing about personal experiences, thoughts and feelings,. But
besides
sserving as a stress-coping mechanism, expressive writing
produces
many
physiological benefits. Research shows that it
improves memory
and sleep,
boosts immune cell activity and reduces viral
load in AIDS
patients, and even
speeds healing after surgery A study in
the February
issue of the Oncologist reports t6hat cancer patients
who engaged in
expressive wwriting just
before treatment felt markedly
better, mentally and
physically, as compared with
patients who did
not...Some hospitals have
started hosting patient-authored
blogs on
their Web sites as clinicians
begin to recognize the therapeutic
value. Unlike a bedside journal,
blogging offers the addid benefit
of
receptive readers in similar
situations. Nancy Morgan, author
of the
Oncologist explains: "Individuals are connecting to one
another and
witnessing each other's expressions--the basis for forming
community."
So improve your memory, sleep better and cope with stress---BLOG ON!!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Look Up!
I read this motto at one of my clients' homes:
Sorrow looks back
Worry looks around
Faith looks up
I need to concentrate less on looking around and more on looking up.
Babies in a Tub
Douglas recently sent us the cutest picture of Lakyn and Lani in the bathtub. They'll be seventeen months on June 16.
A New Baby At Our House
I had forgotten how much fun a new baby is. Toby is a nine week old Chihuahua puppy who came to live with us on Memorial Day. I'd been wanting a small dog for quite a while so when I saw him advertised in the newspaper I was delighted. He weighs all of 2.4 pounds and is much smaller than his best friend, Tigger the cat.
He's grey with brown markings and has blue eyes. His home is a cat carrier. It took a while but now he sleeps there quite contentedly. Housebreaking is our current project and it will probably take some time since I read that puppies aren't really aware of their need to eliminate until they're twelve weeks old. Mom says he is training us to take him outside rather than the other way around. 
Today Toby got a baby shot and spent the afternoon lying in my lap being miserable. I finally had to convince him to lie on the couch so I could get something accomplished.
As an added bonus, we'll never forget his birthday since it's the same as Douglas', April 3.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Scrounging Through Fourteen Years of Stuff
This is it. I've decided to bite the proverbial bullet. We moved into our house in 1994 and I was absolutely thrilled at the wonderful amount of storage it had. We owned nowhere near enough stuff to fill all those shelves, not to mention the big ol' closet under the stairs.
In the ensuing years, however, our stuff has been quietly multiplying under cover of darkness (I deny having had anything to do with it whatsoever!) and is threatening to take over the whole house. It's like something alive, silently filling every shelf and closet, spilling over onto every horizontal surface. And there it sits, looking crosseyed at me and sticking its tongue out.
Studies have proven that clutter has a deleterious effect on mental health and I know for a fact it depresses me. The problem has been the task is so large I didn't know where to start so I'd decide to wait until tomorrow to begin. Well, today is tomorrow! I have been sorting, tossing, lugging, organizing, you name it. When I got all my photos together that have been taken since our wedding in 1975 I realized the few scrapbooks I've done are just the beginning. I have a project ready for a long cold winter, now that everything's in the same place.
I put all my sewing stuff in one place instead of having bits of it here and parts of it there. Since I haven't been in a sewing mood for a while I put the machines and everything in the newly organized closet under the stairs where it will wait happily for the sewing bug to bite me again. All my quilting paraphernalia is tucked away with the rest of the sewing stuff. Now I don't have to feel guilty every time I look at it.
While I was gathering things to donate to the thrift shop I decided to cull the coffee mugs. I swear those things mate when nobody's looking! I pulled eleven mugs out of the cupboard and I still have enough to serve a cup of coffee to every friend I have and have one or two left over.
I feel very virtuous today--I've made a good start on my personal war against stuff. Look out clutter. I'm on a roll!!
In the ensuing years, however, our stuff has been quietly multiplying under cover of darkness (I deny having had anything to do with it whatsoever!) and is threatening to take over the whole house. It's like something alive, silently filling every shelf and closet, spilling over onto every horizontal surface. And there it sits, looking crosseyed at me and sticking its tongue out.
Studies have proven that clutter has a deleterious effect on mental health and I know for a fact it depresses me. The problem has been the task is so large I didn't know where to start so I'd decide to wait until tomorrow to begin. Well, today is tomorrow! I have been sorting, tossing, lugging, organizing, you name it. When I got all my photos together that have been taken since our wedding in 1975 I realized the few scrapbooks I've done are just the beginning. I have a project ready for a long cold winter, now that everything's in the same place.
I put all my sewing stuff in one place instead of having bits of it here and parts of it there. Since I haven't been in a sewing mood for a while I put the machines and everything in the newly organized closet under the stairs where it will wait happily for the sewing bug to bite me again. All my quilting paraphernalia is tucked away with the rest of the sewing stuff. Now I don't have to feel guilty every time I look at it.
While I was gathering things to donate to the thrift shop I decided to cull the coffee mugs. I swear those things mate when nobody's looking! I pulled eleven mugs out of the cupboard and I still have enough to serve a cup of coffee to every friend I have and have one or two left over.
I feel very virtuous today--I've made a good start on my personal war against stuff. Look out clutter. I'm on a roll!!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
AHappy Mother's Day
I was surprised twice with flowers for Mother's Day this year. Tom brought me a pot of the most beautiful daffodils. The trumpet was initially yellow with white petals but gradually the trumpets turned a delicate peach. Daffodils are always welcome and I can't wait to plant them and see them bloom again next year.
Douglas, who always left the gift-buying up to his wife and who now is wifeless, actually sent me a stunning basket of spring flowers to go with his always welcome Mother's Day telephone call. He knows his mom and her love for flowers.
And Tommy called me on the phone and sent me a beautiful card he'd made himself. So I had a very happy Mother's Day.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Mother's Hands
The theme of our church's Mother's Day banquet this year was "Mother's Hands" and it got me thinking about my own mother's hands. One of my earliest memories is the feel of Mom's hands on my feverish forehead. They were cool and smooth and I was comforted and confident all would be well because Mom was there. I remember watching her wipe away over and over
the spiders Scott thought were crawling on him one night when he was so sick he was delirious.
When I was a youngster I had a headful of the snarliest hair imaginable. Mom used to tell me I had rats' nests in my curls. Her hands carefully untangled the mess day after day, smoothing my hair into long banana curls or pigtails.
Her hands bathed me and my brothers nightly after we'd spent the day in the sandbox or in Jeff's case, tramping through the pasture. As luck would have it the three of us got the chickenpox all at once and I have a vivid picture of her hands gently washing us, careful not to cause any more trauma to our very itchy selves. Scott requested that she wash the pox off but not even a mother's hands could do that!
Mom's hands were rarely still. They were always rolling out pie dough, spooning cookie dough onto sheets, ironing basketsful of shirts and pillowcases, holding books as she read to us, administering cough syrup to one of us, dishing up supper, or pulling weeds. Making jam; canning jars and jars of tomato juice, green beans, and peaches; washing mountains of laundry, sewing dresses for me, then teaching me to sew for myself; all these were accomplished by my mother's hands.
Little has changed in the intervening years. Her hands are still busy as ever, often in the service of others. They still bake cookies and pies, do laundry, sweep, dust and scrub bathrooms. Often when she tells me what she has accomplished of a morning I am ashamed of my own pitiful accomplishments in the same time.
"She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also and he praises her. Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all." Proverbs 31; 27-29
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
the spiders Scott thought were crawling on him one night when he was so sick he was delirious.
When I was a youngster I had a headful of the snarliest hair imaginable. Mom used to tell me I had rats' nests in my curls. Her hands carefully untangled the mess day after day, smoothing my hair into long banana curls or pigtails.
Her hands bathed me and my brothers nightly after we'd spent the day in the sandbox or in Jeff's case, tramping through the pasture. As luck would have it the three of us got the chickenpox all at once and I have a vivid picture of her hands gently washing us, careful not to cause any more trauma to our very itchy selves. Scott requested that she wash the pox off but not even a mother's hands could do that!
Mom's hands were rarely still. They were always rolling out pie dough, spooning cookie dough onto sheets, ironing basketsful of shirts and pillowcases, holding books as she read to us, administering cough syrup to one of us, dishing up supper, or pulling weeds. Making jam; canning jars and jars of tomato juice, green beans, and peaches; washing mountains of laundry, sewing dresses for me, then teaching me to sew for myself; all these were accomplished by my mother's hands.
Little has changed in the intervening years. Her hands are still busy as ever, often in the service of others. They still bake cookies and pies, do laundry, sweep, dust and scrub bathrooms. Often when she tells me what she has accomplished of a morning I am ashamed of my own pitiful accomplishments in the same time.
"She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also and he praises her. Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all." Proverbs 31; 27-29
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
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