Testing My Limits

A few years ago I cut back on my daily ritual of putting on deodorant.  Shock of all shocks!  Horror of all horrors!  I know.  I don't enjoy the stench of B.O. any more than the next person, but there's quite a bit of discussion linking aluminum in antiperspirant-deodorants with some serious health concerns. Charged by this query, I thought it through and decided to attempt the unthinkable. Could I achieve this feat without being an affront to society's nostrils?  Let me back up and state that I've leaned more toward the glam side of femininity than the grunge, so this trial was a major step. Also for the record, within fifteen minutes of getting dressed every morning in high school I'd have embarrassing sweat circles in my armpits. (Can we say stressed?!?) Over the years I curbed my stress and the sweating, but I'll reiterate...this no-deodorant gig was a major step for me. Long story short, my body now self-regulates with nothing but bathing, healthy eating, and an occasional dab of natural, herbal deodorant. (Not that I didn't have a few stinky days initially while figuring all this out.) Voila! I'm not running anyone off with my stench and I've kicked a chemical-product habit. While I'm sure a post about my hygiene would spike my blog's readership overnight (or make a few spouses don clothespins on their noses and glare angrily in my direction), I'll burst your bubble and admit that this post is about testing my limits, not my underarms.

Life on the Line

My husband and I joke that there's a troll living in our basement.  We currently live in an older home built by his grandparents in 1960.  The underground lair is partially finished, damp, dimly lit, and generally "creepy" (as my younger sister, fifteen years my junior, calls it).  Thankfully, spiders don't bother me and the rare signs of a rodent don't send me screaming. Despite efforts at keeping it tidy, it's hard to make a place like this one inviting.  However, the utilitarian qualities of my basement are more than adequate to redeem it in my book.  There's a built-in set of pantry shelves for canned goods, an ancient and wonderfully reliable chest freezer, a nook with shelving for seasonal items, a room for storing orphaned extended family items, the wood stove et al, the recycling bins, the tools/hardware stash, and the washing machine/laundry/cleaning area complete with clothesline.  Yup, a clothesline.  I love it.

Come On, Baby, Light My Fire

The other week I was with my mother standing in line at the store when she turned to me with a smile and said,