Lately I’ve been having GI issues. GI as in gastrointestinal, not military personnel. I sought out help from the medical establishment and whoa, that was no fun. Because since I am over 50, the minute I show up in a doctor’s office, everyone starts shouting, “COLONOSCOPY! COLONOSCOPY!” like a murder of crows. Over, that’s a bit of a hyperbole but still… I find it very weird that I can’t get help with my problem because I don’t want to visit hell. HELL, I say!
adventures-in-blandyland.jpg

Left to my own devices, I’ve decided to go on a gluten-free, soy-free diet and see what happens. My Mom is hypoglycemic, lactose-intolerant, gluten-intolerant *and* has diverticulosis. Really, she’s all that. So it wouldn’t be surprising if I was heading the same direction. I included soy in my ban because I eat a lot of tofu and maybe that’s a problem. I’ve known people who had problem with tofu. And I don’t mean carnivores who say “Ooh, gross, tofu.” Those people are just jerks.

Basically, I’m going from my already bland diet (very little caffeine, sugar, alcohol) to something even blander. My Dad, who doesn’t have nearly all the problems my Mom has, happens to be bland food afficonado. He often compliments food saying, “It’s really bland.” He’s the only person on earth who says that as a compliment. So I’m channeling my Dad energy here.

In addition, recently K has taken to juicing. He has his own reasons for trying it, but I thought maybe this would be helpful for my situation too. For the last week he’s been making me a morning juice concoction which seemed to be helpful for me. I thought, well if one glass a day is good, maybe two glasses a day are better. So I asked him to show me how to use the juicer so I could be independent! And autonomous! With my juicing!

Yesterday I made my first glass. But… apparently I can only make jus de ipecac. Within 20 minutes of drinking my fine glass of liquified vegetables, I felt like I was going to hurl. I had to lay down and repeat my least favorite mantra “Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up.” My mantra magically worked, and I was able to get up after a half hour and get back to my routine. Which unfortunately included finding out my car had a flat tire but that’s another story.

The culprit seems to be beets. When juiced, they become quite barfatetic (a word I used a teen which I’m reviving as of this very day). Indeed, fresh beet juice is the drink of SATAN.

Ah, time for another tasty rice cake.

Yes, after another long hiatus of about two months, Tzipi showed up in my yard with Mississippi. O.J. was screeping in the trees so Tzipi looked a bit nervous. He still flew to my hands twice as per his custom; once to get a nut that he ate on the bird bath, and another to grab a few to bury for later. Mississippi was just a couple feet above me in our Maple tree, which was pretty close for her.

I think it’s amazing that he still makes his cameos. I wonder how much he drops by and I’m not here. I wonder what makes him decide to risk getting screeped and come over her. I wonder if he sees me walking around the neighborhood. I guess there’s a lot much I can’t know about him.