Lemons = Viagra

Bet you didn't know that one, did you?

But it's true! We found that little fact out two weekends ago when my husband and I were juicing about half of the kazillion lemons we harvested from our little tree. Oh, and when I say "we harvested," I really mean me in the pitch black of night before a frost warning, pulling lemons off with fingers numb from the cold and getting scratched up like the loser of an alley cat fight.

Here's just one of the baskets that I picked:

Possibly the fruit of good and evil?



Our little 6-foot tree ended up filling over 5 of those bad boys (yes, I used laundry baskets... it's what was on hand late at night)! I gave away what I could to my parents, my friends, my hairdresser, strangers on the street, and then we used about half a basket for freezing.

Hubby juiced about 3 gallons, which we measured into individual cups and froze. I froze two gallon bags worth of individual lemons slices, and zested 2 cups of peel. We sliced some for our tea and water. And I immediately made a large pitcher of lemonade.

Our entire house smelled lemony fresh!

Standing in the kitchen together, my husband tried to ignore the sticky floor where we had spilled drops of lemons juice as we gazed into each other's eyes. I realized he sacrificed watching an NFL play-off on his big TV in the living room to spend time juicing lemons with me.

And before either of us could speak...

...we heard our kid yell, "No, [Furry Dude]! No!!!"

"Mooommmm... [Furry Dude] won't leave me alone."

"What's he doing?" I yelled back from the kitchen.

"He keeps grabbing my leg."

Uh oh.

Let me just say that Furry Dude is 13-years-old and is in the early stages of congestive heart failure. He doesn't do a whole lot of activity any more. But I had a bad feeling and was trying to find a way to ask my innocent 5-year-old if the dog was trying to do the nasty to his leg.

"Is he trying to dance with you?"

"Yeah. He keeps bothering me and I keep telling him no."

I kicked of my shoes, which were partially congealed to the lemon juice on the floor, and ran into Little Dude's room to see him perched on the top of the futon while Furry Dude was grabbing at his ankle.

With a "NO!" that reverberates across the neighborhood, I pulled the dog off my precious child. My husband, also shoeless, came running in and dragged the amorous creature out of the room.

"Dude, he's just trying to show you who's boss." I told our kid. "You have to be firm with him when you tell him 'No.'"

"Okay." And back to his games he went like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, back in the sanctuary of lemony goodness, Big Dude was trying to settle down Furry Dude. We resumed our work with the lemons, but we could see Furry Dude out of the corner of eyes in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Look," my husband said as he pointed at the pitiful creature.

And we both snickered as we saw Furry Dude literally hump the air.

"That's enough," my husband told him, try to muster some authority (which is not easy when you're laughing).

Furry Dude sat down and we went back to work.

"Oh, no," I said, "look at him now."

And again, Furry Dude was humping the air. It was like he couldn't help himself. Every time my husband would say "that's enough" he'd sit down, but poor little Furry Dude had a serious boner. It lasted for hours and we considered seeking medical advice at one point to heed the warning on some of those ED medication ads ("If you have an erection for over four hours...").

*Note: No blankets or other items were harmed or humped during the making of this photo.

We've never seen Furry Dude in such a frenzy before... I mean, without a female dog around. He's been fixed for years. And although he might do a little "dancing" in his mixed up effort to get another dog to play with him (obviously, he needs some counseling), but nothing like this has ever happened.

"I think it's the lemons," my husband said. "There must be something in the scent that's making him horny."

Great. That's just what I needed to hear when we were both covered in juice.

But my husband found a bright side: "At least he's getting some exercise."

It took a day for the overpowering smell of lemons to dissipate. And sure enough, Furry Dude's lust waned at the same time. The leftover lemons have since found a good home at a local food bank. And our home, and dog, are back to normal.

But we will never again underestimate the power of lemons!

Biology and the Kindergartner

Poor Little Dude had a case of croup, so I spent the last few days working from home and taking care of the small sickie. I love spending extra time with him - even when he's sick. It's always interesting hearing what comes out of his mouth.

For instance, he used to end every thrilling story with, "just like that." Now he starts each exciting story with, "This is going to blow... your... mind." Sometimes he breaks out in the latest pop song. Sometimes he makes up his own songs. Sometimes he'll just randomly walk up to me, offer his hand and ask, "May I have this dance, milady." And sometimes he'll make some odd observation.

Yesterday was one of those odd observations.

He was laying on the couch eating an Otter pop and watching TV when he piped up, "Mom, my legs are growing!"

"Right now?"

"Yeah! They can reach the other end of the couch and they didn't used to do that! You gotta see this!"

"Honey, I know. Your whole body is growing."

This was quite a surprise to him. "What?!? My whole body? I cannot believe that! Are my arms growing?"

"Yes."

"Are my feet growing?"

"Yes."

"Are my ears growing?"

"Yes."

"Are my bones growing?"

"Yes. Your entire body is growing."

"Wow! I never knew that!"

And that's how you teach basic biology to a Kindergartner!

Whatever Happened to Old Yeller's Family?

I don't usually do New Year's Resolutions. However, I'm breaking a resolution I made years ago to never make another New Year's resolution. And I'm actually making a new resolution. (Somewhat foreboding, isn't it?)

My resolution is to have a quieter house.

We are naturally loud people. All three of us have been gifted with super-human lung capacity and reverberating voices.


I, for one, sing and play the saxophone and other wind instruments. I have the lung capacity of a great ape. My laugh can be heard across concert halls. I can be quiet. But get me going and I get louder and louder.

My hubby, on the other hand, doesn't have a quiet setting. He has to whisper from across the room... and I can still hear him loud and clear. We joke that he came from a stereotypical loud Italian family, except they're not actually Italian and they don't talk with their hands. When the family is together, things get exciting... and loud.

Our son... oh, our poor son. He never stood a chance. He can be quiet. But the more excited he gets, the louder he gets. And that kid has some serious volume! You should hear him belt out a song. Oh, wait... if you're within a 10 mile radius, you probably have heard him! I've actually had to work on teaching him to sing quietly.

I have no doubt that our neighbors can hear just about every conversation we have. When we're shopping, people across the store can pick up our dialogue. We are loud... and I'm not proud about it.

The other day, my parents took Little Dude to their (retirement community) rec center. He gets very excited while playing mini-golf. And the more excited he got, the louder he got. He likes a quick game, so he was jumping up and down and shouting. Some lady came by and asked if he was deaf (nope, but anyone around him probably is). When the group ahead would move on to the next hole, Little Dude would shout, "The old people in front of us are done!" My parents thought it was hilarious.

So this year, we're going to try to make the windows shake less at our house. We have a "yelling jar" so that when one of us starts getting loud, they have to drop in a quarter. Don't know what we'll do with the quarters yet... but hopefully we won't have to spend them on earplugs!

Picking up the Pieces

Usually, I try to keep things light-hearted. Not because crap doesn't happen, but because I prefer to focus on the positives. My family has learned to laugh at life's misfortunes instead of allowing them to weigh us down. But there is nothing to laugh at when it comes to what happened last Friday.

I do not believe that there is a single American who was not affected by the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary. We don't need professionals to tell us the shooter was mentally disturbed. Anyone with a conscience can tell you that. We don't need the media to tell us that it was a horrific tragedy. Anyone with a heart can tell you that. We don't need correspondents or spokespersons to tell us the victims were too young to die. Anyone with a soul can tell you that.

What most of us want to know is the answer to the age-old question of Why. But we may never know why. We may never understand the darkest regions of a mind so obviously filled with anger, hate, selfishness, and rage. We may never understand because we have something - whether faith, hope, or love - that prevents us from being able to think in such a way.

We are powerless to change the events of the past. But we do have the power to change ourselves.

Life is full of decisions. As my hubby says, "You decide what attitude you wake up with." And as a parent of a young child, I can decide to allow fear to take over, or I can resolve to take over the fear.

So here are the decisions I am making in the wake of tragedy:

I will not allow fear to control my life. There were a lot of fearful parents sending their kids to school today. Parents who would rather keep their kids at home and hug them all day long. Yes, I fear for my child's safety at school, but I also know that tragedy can strike anywhere. Our car ride to school is more dangerous than his sitting in the classroom. He could be taken from me by an accident, a drowning, or disease. I cannot possibly protect him from every possible tragedy. I'm not saying I will not have fear. I'm only saying that I will not allow the fear to take over.

I will not allow myself to make knee-jerk reactions about my child's education. I wouldn't be surprised to see an increase in homeschooling after this, but I am keeping my child where he's at. I'm not against homeschooling - for some families, it is absolutely the best choice for their child. There are families who excel at homeschooling, and there are others who are not successful with it. Be honest with yourself before making that decision. Don't base it on fear.

I will allow myself to grieve. I do not know any of the families personally, but that doesn't mean I don't feel grief over what happened. Those children were filled with potential. Who knows what they could have become or what great things they would have accomplished. Those teachers were heroic. The world needs more people like that. It's a loss that deserves to be mourned by all.

I will not allow fear to hover over my child. Children have enough fear in life, real and unreal. They don't need more. My kid doesn't need to know what happened. He doesn't need to worry about his safety at school. It's someone else's job to worry about that. And he doesn't need to pick up on my fear. Kids are good at sensing those things.

I will allow myself to enjoy every day with my child. Unfortunately, there are many parents who are not allowed that luxury today. Each day I have with my son - even if that day is filled with frustrating moments - is precious.

I will not allow what happened to push me to religious intolerance. Religion? you ask. But this wasn't a religiously motivated massacre. That's right. As far as we know, it wasn't. But because it happened at a public school, there are many well-intending Christians getting up on their soap boxes and shouting that you shouldn't ask "Where was God?" because we threw Him out of school. This angers me.

God is not bound by our rules. Jesus was a rule breaker. God will continue to be in schools as long as He is in the hearts and minds of the children and adults there. You cannot check your beliefs at the door. (Just as you cannot expect God to show up simply because a building has the word "Church" on the door.)

I will allow myself to ask God the hard questions. There is nothing wrong with airing your opinions/grievances to God. He already knows them. 1 Peter 5:7 tells us to take our worries and fears to Him. Sometimes that means crying on our knees and sometimes that means shaking our fists in the air. He's been there. He knows our frustrations and anger. You won't surprise Him, I promise.

I will not blame God for what happened. Jesus told us "Sh*t happens." Seriously. That's my own paraphrase of John 16:33, when He said, "You will have suffering in this world." Plus, the Bible tells us that Satan is the one who causes crap to happen, not God (1 John 5:19). Stop pointing fingers. We see the tragedies that happen, but never know how many others were prevented.

I will not allow myself to use what happened to promote political propaganda. This is a tragedy, not a bargaining chip. These were lives, not political pawns. Whatever I believe about the 2nd amendment, religion in schools, mental health care, or other aspects, they need to be dealt with clear minds. Now is a time to mourn. It will be time to talk when we are level-headed.

I will allow myself to reevaluate my political stances. Any time something horrific happens, we need to reevaluate where we are headed. That's true whether it is something small and personal or something large and public. No matter what stance you have taken in the past, whether left or right, you need to be willing to see if there is a way to work together for the sake of a common goal.

I will allow myself to remain emotionally vulnerable. My instinct tells me to separate myself and not think about the things that break my heart. But shutting of those emotions would deny myself my own humanity. Pain and confusion are part of the human experience just as much as love and hope are. Building a wall around my heart to keep it from getting hurt, will also keep it from caring. And that is NOT what we need. We need to connect with each other. We need to care more... not less.

The holiday season is about faith, hope, and love. It's a time when we're reminded to think more about others and less about ourselves. It's a time when we reflect on peace and goodwill. It shouldn't take a tragedy to remind us that we are all human beings living in this world together.

My Christmas List, part 2

So I already told you that the top of my Christmas list is to spend more time with my family. The next two items on my Christmas list may seem like they conflict: Have More Adventures and Relax More!

In my mind, those two actually go hand-in-hand.

Adventure should not equal stress. Yes, it sometimes accompanies adventure, but it shouldn't have to. Sometimes an adventure is simply allowing yourself to get lost and find your way back. I have my dad to thank for that lesson.

We went camping with my parents for Thanksgiving this year and I was reminded of all those times camping with my dad when he would just drive and sometimes we wouldn't know exactly where we were. He would just smile and call it an adventure. We explored the road less travelled and sometimes had to double back or take some unexpected detours. But it was fun and he didn't seem to stress over it.

Sometimes an adventure is trying something new. My hubby didn't grow up camping like I did. So our Thanksgiving camp out was an adventure for him. And he actually wasn't stressed. It was our first time using a camping trailer and he handled it like a pro. We hiked (and purposely got "lost"). He built a fire. He tried something new.

Sometimes an adventure is eating something new. Little Dude can be a picky eater. Sometimes I get frustrated with that, but then I have to remember that a lot of foods are still new to him. For instance... S'mores! He wasn't sure about it, but he tried them.

Sometimes an adventure is to be had in acting like a kid. My mom reminded me of this. During our 3-hour "lost in the wilderness" hike, she spotted some interesting, frilly, white plants by the riverbank. Like a kid in a candy store, she asked my dad to get one for her. He climbed through the thick brush to get one and she was so happy! She played with it for the rest of the hike, pelting us with it causing it to dust us with pollen. She was having fun.

I heard a quote about Thanksgiving that said something like: "We spend one day with others being thankful for what we do have, and then we spend the next day trampling others for what we don't have."

How can I not be thankful for a family that knows how to be goofy, how to relax, and how to enjoy what we have around us?

It sure makes the holidays sweeter!