Weekend Coffee Share, The Health Edition


Welcome to my Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Allison at eclecticali.wordpress.com

Enjoy your favorite beverage and stay for a chat in the air conditioning; it still feels hot and sticky out there!

It has been another week on the job, and many evenings I came home with sore feet and legs.  Gladly, I made it to yoga Wednesday night, which helped!  I feel really busy now, as I am trying to creating challenging lessons and projects, and working on proofing the final chapters of the audiobook for Detours in Time.

Do any of you take statins?  If you’re reading this and thinking, that’ll never be me, or that’s for old folks, overweight folks, yada yada yada, I once thought that too.  I wouldn’t call myself overweight, though I am at my highest weight non-pregnancy.  I am fine with the way my clothes fit, but a gain of a few pounds will send off an alarm for me.  My mother and I might go on a diet together as she is not happy with her weight.  She is retired and many social events for her center around going somewhere to eat ‘good’ food, and she really enjoys it.  For me, I am going to try and add an extra night of 20 minute cardio.  My default last year was to do 2 cardio nights/day and a one hour yoga session once a week.

So, my weight baffles me.  I thought I was a healthy eater.  Four years ago, I was 15 pounds less and I don’t think I exercised more or did much that was different.  A year later, I had gained maybe 5 of those pounds, and was told, “Your cholesterol has continually gone up and now is at a level that requires you to take statins.”  So, I did, but probably at half the recommended dose.  This last year, I got really lax at that and would forget.  Result? Cholesterol went up; the doc wanted me to double the dosage.  I did it for a couple nights, but then added blueberries to my morning cereal and sometime, soy lecithin in liquid form.  I decided to stick with one, as it seems I feel effects when I increase the dose.  Effects such as hands that feel even stiffer than my arthritis causes in the morning, and feet that feel terribly swollen at end of day.  Am I stupidly not following directions or rebelliously taken my health into my own hands? I am trying to eat healthier, and likely should work harder at that. 🙂


Along with all of this, I have been slightly cutting down on coffee consumption.  I’m having half a cup today. My other doctor agrees this is a good move, as I tend to get benign cysts.  I had read up on that elsewhere, too.  Not to mention the sources I have read about decreasing coffee if you have arthritis.  I actually hope it is the statins causing my soreness and not my arthritis getting worse.  Come on, I have 11 years to go until retirement!

So, I am trying a few things.  My one glimmer of hope, something I think I can actually do, is to add the cardio session and increase my exercise to four times a week.  That doesn’t even factor all the walking I do around school.  I bought a foam roller, but I left it on the floor and it got dog pee on one end.  My little furbaby is getting older too; he is eight years old.  I walk him at nine p.m. and I am in bed by 10, so it is hard to give him another outing.  He seems unable to hold it until morning now.  The foam roller should be good after the bleach dries.  Ugh.  The money I spend on exercise ‘equipment’ includes the super thick knee pad for yoga that I take to class with me.  My consensus: worth it!  Using bleach and cleaning up after the dog: worth it.


I hope you all have a great week, and I think you for listening to my obsessing over health!  I hope you are well and have enjoy our coffee visit!


Rage Against Limits of Age. #poetry


Rage Against Limits of Age, (c) 2019 by Pamela Schloesser Canepa


Lines at my eyes don’t bother me,

‘cuz I already fell from the tree.

I’ll raise a glass and tell you my age,

Since that makes lying men run away.


Some say to wear more makeup,

Some say you should wear less.

Which will make me look younger?

I supposed it’s anyone’s guess.


When out, I’ll wear hoop earrings and my Blondie tee

With those special fit jeans that cost a pretty penny.

I’m ‘wowing’ the town in my not-cougar ensemble,

But I’ve gotta wear Nikes, so I don’t take a tumble.


Though I no longer do Ben-Gay-Zumba these days,

I still do the plank pose, modifed, okay?

And some may think I count for less,

Rage against the whimps who can’t handle this mess

Who raise a brow at what I wear,

question the true color of my hair


Rage against high-priced age creams

Products promising to fulfill our dreams….

Rage against those who try to limit me with age

I decide how much to do before turning the page.

Do  not sit quietly and age.

Do all you still can, and hysterically.  Girl, rage!


Of Mitz and Mayhem. #FFfAW #flashfiction

Photo credit (c) Yarnspinnerr

Mitz was feeling fresh with newly dyed-electric-blue spiked hair.  Her friends knew better than to call her Michelle.  She was a new person.  Off to cause mayhem in all four corners of the world, oblivious to the chill in the air.

“What’s this place, do ya’ know, Johnnie?”

Johnnie spit on the ground.  “Must be a home for royals,” he answered in his cockney accent.

“No entry?  Ha!” Mitz exclaimed.  “Let’s go get a lemonade over there and come back when it gets darker.”

“I’m ready!” Johnnie replied.

She tugged his arm.  Thirty minutes later, she was refreshed and Johnnie had espresso fuel rocketing through his veins.

They crouched near the first lampost. Mitz stifled a giggle.  She grasped Johnnie’s arm, but fell back on the slippery ground.

“Right on your bum, there you go,” a deep voice bellowed.

“Oh, sh–” Mitz spat, then noticed Johnnie running away.  “Traitor, you are!”

“Come on, up with you,” the constable grasped her arm, pushing her into the car.  Mitz realized the door wouldn’t unlock.

**174 words**

To join in the fun, visit Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers where a new photo prompt and writing challenge is presented weekly.  I love these things!  I think I have just introduced myself to a new character….



Staying True to Me, My Exercise Evolution, Pt. 2

YogaBabt4thI am sharing an experience from about a year ago.  It is my intent that I will share a few experiences that inspired me to write, whether a Facebook post or diary entry, and to catch up to more current yoga streams of consciousness.  This one was a turning point for me, because no matter what exercise you choose, you have to realize that you are not like everyone else and embrace that fact, instead of feeling ashamed.  Due to physical arthritis or stress-related issues, Yoga has lately been my exercise of choice, with occasional pilates and barre classes to push myself. Yet my spirit so often begs for yoga.  Think about it; yoga is a relaxing exercise that helps center the mind, but it quickly loses that factor when you are pushing yourself to be something you’re not, or comparing yourself to others in the room who may be a little more, well, limber.  Best is the instructor who reminds you to go at your own pace, modify if needed, stop comparing yourself to others, and yes, “Hang out in child’s pose” if you feel the need!

*I had a yoga win last night! I was not going to let that gal force me into a frog. I’ve been forced into one before and, well, Pam is not a frog. This was probably 9 years ago at a gym that has long since closed.  I recall being amazed that I could actually get into a frog, only, guess what?  I didn’t get into a frog; I was forced into the frog!  Getting out of it was pretty awkward.  I wasn’t having that this time.  I muttered, “No. I have trouble with….” You could fill in the blank, this week. She heard knee, and moved on to someone else. So I did my own pose without pins and needles of pain, because yoga is for relaxation, not pain. I also did not turn my mind off (such a rebel)! There are great things going on; thank God! My mind is working for me right now and I will let it, since I’ve actually been able to write lately. This yoga/exercise state of mind and leading me to healthy thoughts; my mind is not shut off, but I’m not worrying!  Therefore, this must be a good thing.  It was awesome this time to practice something that did relax my body and mind, and still, through it all, I remained true to me.   Sorry if ya’ll expected me to say I’d figured out the headstand…..*





The White Rabbit Hates Donuts! Stupid #&$t I did When I Was Young, pt 2



Photo courtesy of Bing, Creative Commons.  This poor guy looks a little anxious. 😦  Okay, no animals were harmed in today’s story.  In fact, the white rabbit was not an animal, but a car.  It was the first car I was allowed to drive on my own.  Yes, I know, it sounds very Alice in Wonderland-ish, and maybe that’s actually fitting.  Too bad I don’t have a picture of that car.  The white rabbit, however, did not like donuts at all, and rebelled in kind.  Read on for the story of a lesson I learned the hard way at age 17, in my second Monday installment of “Stupid %&$t I Did When I Was Young.”

It was 1985.  Billy Idol played on my radio and in my cassette player almost non-stop.  I had a job.  That was great, even though it was in a fast food restaurant.  Even though I sometimes worked pretty late on weekend nights.  I had a car that could get me there, since Mom had just bought a newer car for herself.  The white rabbit was a Volkswagen Rabbit, and I know it had potential.  I just didn’t know what to do with it.

His name was *Jaxx.   (Or maybe it wasn’t. :))  He was different.  Outspoken, unafraid, with long hair and tall as an oak tree, no lie.  I was different, too.  Quiet.  Somber, would sit in a corner alone if I didn’t know anyone, and half the time, I’d have my head down too unless I was in a class with some of my friends.  Honest,  I didn’t die my hair black, though many probably expected me to.  This was 11th grade, and I had some interesting friends, quite an assortment.  One of them was really into getting into every rock concert or going to see every new band she could.  I went with her many times.  Through her, I met Jaxx.  He didn’t have a car; I did.  But what he did have, was a fake i.d.  Imagine what a valuable piece of plastic that was to us!  I would gladly drive him places.  Well, some of my other friends wanted to go, and they’d bring boyfriends.  Inevitably, I let him drive my car because I’d get, you know, too tired to drive.  Sometimes they’d meet me up at the *Jack in the Box (Name changed to protect the innocent restaurant chain) and get something through the drive-through, then wait in the parking lot until I got off.  I don’t think I got much sleep back then.

We’d go off to the drive-in movies or out driving.  When I let Jaxx drive, he usually drove like a crazy man.  Hey, it was a five speed!  One night, a bunch of them wanted to try and do donuts, round repeated spins at high speed, in the car.  I think it was just my car, well, someone had a Pinto, maybe it was subjected to donuts, too.  I don’t know; it gets hazy.  So, yeah, they were doing that and I was just laughing with everyone else, in a lackadaisical, anything goes spirit.  Why worry?  Why question it?  Who does that when they’re 17 and having fun anyhow?  Oh, I sure needed to learn a lesson.

We were out so late this one night, I just knew I’d be in serious trouble.  Jaxx said, “Man, I stay in trouble.  I’d just like to run off.”

And I said something like, “Yeah.  I should do that.  I’m tired of my mom’s strict rules.  I’m tired of school.”

Well, everyone else had to go home to avoid grounding, I guess, but he and I didn’t want to go home.  We decided we would just run off.  Now, I’m sure my car sounded bad, but for some reason I don’t remember specifics.  However, it got us to an IHOP on the other side of town, Westside, I think.

We sat there eating something cheap, and I was drinking coffee, thinking what am I doing here.  Looking at the night shift waitress thinking, will I need a job like that to feed myself?  What were we thinking?  Are Jaxx and I gonna live together?  Could we even stand each other?  Mind you, we weren’t actually dating and he’d never kissed me.  He had a fake i.d.and devil may care attitude.  I had a car, and an easy-going attitude.  Meaning, I didn’t really look out for myself.  I had to learn that lesson the hard way.

I looked at him, and he looked at me, and one of us, I’m not sure who, said, “This was not a good idea.”  What a relief.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to face grounding.  I’m tired,”  I said.

“You look tired,”  he agreed.  Actually, I think he said something much meaner.  See what I mean?  All this guy had going for him was a fake i.d.  So glad I came to my senses.

Of course, I got grounded.  Of course, something was wrong with the car.  It got me home, but it didn’t start the next day.  I asked one of my friends who had been there to tell me what happened to it.  She told me, “Jeff says Jaxx knocked the engine off the engine block.”  Great.  If I would’ve just told him to get out of my car, if I would have just taken care of my car, what a frustration.  I hadn’t.  I didn’t look out for myself, either.

I don’t know if Jaxx had already been a dropout, or if it happened soon after, or if I just didn’t have the guts to tell him he caused that damage to the car and owed me for repairs. Summer was just a month or two away, anyhow. The car sat in our driveway for months until Mom got someone to buy it for dirt cheap.  That was part of my punishment, losing the car.  I knew I deserved it.  She had been rife with worry that whole night that I was out until 4 or 5 a.m.  I can sympathize with her now, looking back.

I got rides to work, rides home, waited around so Mom could drop me off before work.  I worked, and save $700 for some kind of used Plymouth that did its own donuts on the side of the road when it was rainy out.  Guess I’m lucky I lived.  That car liked donuts. :p We won’t go too far into how I felt, sitting at the side of the road, heart racing.  God, it was a close call.  Considering it once happened on a highway, I must have had someone looking out for me.

It seems like I straightened up in Senior year, realizing my love for Literature, and that I could actually go to college, just had to choose carefully which classes I chose to sleep in.  I kept working, got a better part-time job, still driving that rusty Plymouth, but I was able to get some work done on it.  It became less dangerous to me, thank God!  My outlook on life was a lot lighter, brighter.  Maybe I was more determined.  My dad was going to pay my first two years of tuition if I paid for books.  So, I did go on to get my college degree, working and paying for the rest of it myself.  After all, you learn a lot more when you pay for what you get.  A tough lesson, an education.  And don’t subject the white rabbit to donuts, or so-called friends who insist on donuts!

*Some names have been changed to avoid dredging up the past.  Well, it is prominent in my memory right now, it being summer time, but I would like to have certain people remain just that, a memory. 🙂

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