Tag Archives: Diet

And now, a Massage from the Swedish Prime Minister….Monty Python

As we were discussing our daughters’ fierce food requirements when they come to visit, my friend, Pat revealed that she feels the same way as I do about  the wonders of kale.

Pat’s daughter is a vegan and my daughter is very careful about her diet. When these girls  come to stay at our respective homes, we grocery shop for them, we cook for them and we try very hard not to make a mistake, insult their food, or give them any excuse to never return.

Each and everyone of you knows that kale is the Super Woman of super food. When you ingest kale, you are creating a vortex of health, wisdom, happiness, hale(ness?) and heartiness throughout your body. Kale will not be denied. It will make all things well in the world, especially in your colon, pancreas, pituitary gland and all those other internal organs you play like a fiddle.

I hate kale. I hate mean girls and I hate kale.

Do not give me recipes for kale. Do not tell me to eat kale chips, kale salad or kale smoothies. I tried. I hate it.

This is where Pat explained to me, that her daughter explained to her, that in order to release the power and joys of kale you need to massage it.

Okay, seriously, I’m done now.

I don’t even know what that  means…massage the kale. Do I need massage oil for that? Can instructions be found in the Kalema Sutra?

Looks pretty, but is it worth it?
Looks pretty, but is it worth it?

I’m not massaging my kale. I don’t even massage my husband.  If anyone’s getting a massage here it’s me. I will buy non-dairy yogurt, gluten free bread, only shredded Brussels sprouts for the healthy visitors in my house . But even if it makes kale taste like anything from Ben & Jerry’s, I refuse to massage the kale.

Yes, I’m far from perfect. Yes, I eat and drink things that are naughty. And in the interest of full disclosure, I snarfed up all the Easter Candy. left over wedding favors and the real Ben & Jerry’s ice cream in the freezer last night before our daughter came home for a lengthy visit. I say that as a point of pride, not shame (about the food, not my daughter). After all, I was creating a healthy food environment for my house guest, right? Oh, the things we do for company.

As for my personal constitution, all my grandparents lived well into their 90’s and I’m certain that not one of them ever massaged a leafy green vegetable. So I’m good.

“You Just have to Laugh…..”

©2016 Cathy Sikorski



A case for the Paper………….

Midlife has it’s ups and downs.

One of my downs is sitting down about a hundred times a day to pee. This was even before my new healthy diet regimen.

My new diet requires me to drink half my body weight in water every day. I try to get this accomplished by lunchtime so that I’m not up all night in the loo. But during the day, I scout out ladies’ rooms as soon as I enter any establishment.

For some reason, I have now become the toilet paper goddess. Every where I go, and I go everywhere, the toilet paper roll beckons me to refill her. Initially, I thought this was a random event.

“Sure,” I thought out loud in a stall in Wegman’s grocery store one day, “you need a new roll!”

“No,” came the nervous reply from the next stall, “I’m fine, really.”

Oops. Talking out loud seems to be another phase of aging.

Then I noticed how deft I became at all kinds of different toilet paper delivery systems. It was like I was training to be a Navy Seal. I had to get the old roll off, the new roll unwrapped, slipped on the shaft, and snapped back into place, and unravel the glued end for use in record time. Pretty sure I was almost ready to take on an M16.

Actual Rolls Waiting for Me
Actual Rolls Waiting for Me


Eventually, it started to piss me off…pun intended.

Why oh why am I the only human being on this earth who knows how to change a roll of toilet paper? When I enter the stall and the paper is empty or one square is hanging on for dear life, I reflect on how it was just too much trouble for the last user to make this  effort for the next guest.

Okay. Fine.

Since part of my  new spiritual diet is being grateful, I decided to be grateful for every opportunity I have to make the next person’s ablutions an exceptional experience. I am grateful that there is in fact, another roll of toilet paper to be installed. I’m grateful that my bladder is working so well that I can discover a lavatory with internal radar from 50 feet.

I thought about giving up all these diets, but then who would be there to change the toilet paper?

“You Just have to Laugh….”

©Cathy Sikorski 2015


What’s at steak??????

In the last four months, my brother-in-law has lost somewhere between 25 and 30 pounds. That may seem like a lot, especially for those of us who have been fighting those last damn 10 pounds for years, but it has been a blessing.

He now has lost so much of his Buddha belly that he can actually turn himself a bit from side to side. This is a spectacular advancement in the world of MS and bed sores because he may now be able to spend more time in his electric  wheelchair and less time confined to bed to protect his skin from breaking down.

He, on the other hand, sees that he has been subject to lousy food and a Spartan diabetic diet.  Now, it is kind of hard to point out the beauty of lousy food and a Spartan diet. So after much praise for his ability to scooch around (yes, I do believe that is a medical term), I researched the possibility of getting some fun back onto his food tray.

He is still in rehab for a few weeks to get stronger from wound repair surgery, so I must get permission to adjust his diet. And I do. Everyone agrees his blood sugar is exemplary and he can have sugar instead of sugar substitute. His blood pressure is also stellar, so he can have salt again as well. Hip, hip hooray.

I take this as a sign that I can ‘bring’ him a special meal of his own choosing at least once a week. It’s actually getting to the point where I’m concerned that he might loose too much weight and then we have another problem. I know, the “oh you’ll get too skinny” story is usually baloney, but he has taken refusing bad food to new heights….and I don’t blame him. In fact, he would welcome baloney, but they don’t serve that…too salty.

So, as we live in the Philly area, I brought him his favorite naughty meal. It was a cheesesteak hoagie with hot peppers. That means there were condiments such as fried onions, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise all slathered on that sandwich. He ate every single bite, picked the stray onions, peppers and tomatoes off the hoagie paper, and wiped his mustache with glee.

When the aide came in for his institutional food tray and it looked like he hadn’t touched a bite, I debated whether to confess. Ah…what the hell……….

“I brought him a cheesesteak.”

“Well, good for him,” said the aide. “I don’t think one person ate today’s dinner. It was that bad.”

“So our secret is safe with you?”

“What secret?”

Sometimes you find partners in crime in the best and most unexpected places.

“You just have to Laugh….”

© 2014 Cathy Sikorski