FreshenUp: Ignominious And Icky Meet Ingenious And Innovative

Ok. Another confession. I stink. I don't mean like..."Oh, man, I stink!" I mean like, stink, stink. You know...to high heaven. Especially after a workout. Which I actually manage to do on a regular basis. There has never been a deodorant that I have found to work. Ever. So, I just stink sometimes. I will not tell you everything I have tried, but let's just say there were several baby wipe and baking soda trials that got a little out of hand. So, if you are not already running for the next blog, let me tell you of the latest experiment. And a big thanks to those Rowdy Stroudy's for turning me on to this. So far it is working well. Homemade Deodorant. (Or pit-stick as Hunky Hubby likes to call it.) It even got rid of some stink that was starting to form. TMI? Now that I have thoroughly embarrassed myself...

We are all friends right? I mean I am only trying to help. And if I have to be brutally honest about my own bouquet to help a fellow man...then so be it! So for anyone else who might be aromatically challenged...give this a try!

Ingredients: 1/4 cup baking soda, 1/4 cup arrowroot powder (or cornstarch), 4 tablespoons coconut oil, Few drops essential oil (optional), A tin or jar with lid for storage.

I used a little jelly jar with a lid, but if you click on the links above they have more details and some storage ideas too. Homemade satisfies NatureGirl's need to be frugal and natural, but not too natural, if you know what I mean. Boy, I really hope this doesn't get me sent to the corner over at Mrs. Matlock's, but I gotta tell it like it is. Good luck with this. Thanks for listening, and may the fragrance be with you!

Quote of the Day: "Don't take life too seriously; you'll never get out of it alive."

--Elbert Hubbard writer, artist, philosopher

Ode To The Hunkiest Of Hubbies

Ok, so this is not really going to be an ode. Sorry. If you would like to stop reading now and hop to another blog, I understand. Really. Go ahead, I'll wait. Now, for those of you who stuck around, this is a highly self-indulgent, totally random post about something that I want to talk about. Yeah, I know, "what's new?" My blog...my rules! But both Hunky and Hubby start with the letter H so Teacher won't get mad and I can gush all I want and not get sent to the office. So without further ado, NatureGirl proudly presents 42 things she loves about Hunky Hubby (not his actual name, but I have to protect his identity from the paparazzi.)

42. Knows that my favorite flower is "not roses"

41. Has great legs

40. Will eat almost anything

39. Is amazingly strong

38. Loves the outdoors

37. Helps with laundry and yucky chores

36. Always calls me by cutsie pet names

35. Whenever I see something I like he always says "buy it" even though I never do

34. Doesn't watch sports except BYU football (and that is with me)

33. Is ridiculously smart!

32. Works really hard

31. Is careful with money

30. Works at staying physically fit

29. Is sweet to kids

28. Mops the kitchen floor on his hands and knees

27. Keeps the yard looking nice

26. Always supports my quirky ideas

25. Has a terrific smile

24. Is a good athlete

23. Doesn't stink when he gets sweaty

22. Grows a nice beard and mustache, but shaves before I get tired of it

21. Tells me I am a good cook, even though I am not

20. Tells me I am good at other things, even though I am not

19. Probably actually believes I am good at those things

18. Is cuter now than when we met

17. Is incredibly good with babies

16. Cleans up poop and puke

15. Is not a work-aholic

14. Always does the driving on long trips

13. Takes us on long trips to cool places

12. Is quite brave

11. Likes to camp, hike and bike with me

10. Has a good sense of humor

9. Doesn't mind that I am ornery and sarcastic

8. Is an Eagle Scout (c'mon was there any doubt?)

7. Knows what good music is

6. Likes foreign movies

5. Laughs at the same stuff I do

4. Has awesome burns!

3. Has good taste in shoes

2. Is adventurous

1. Is mine!

Gee, Granola!

Today we talk about the letter G. As in granola. Can you say, granola, class? Luckily, my mother is pretty thick skinned. She does not take life or herself too seriously. More importantly she does not take ME too seriously! Even when I make fun of her. Or my childhood. Or her, during my childhood. So when I say I do not want to grow up to be my mother, it is done with my tongue in my cheek. It is just that we try so hard to snip those apron strings, until we finally make peace with the notion that we have, indeed, become our parents.

The problem is that many of us grow up with misconceptions about our parents. Because we are looking at Mom and Dad through the eyes of a child or adolescent, our judgments of them are not always accurate. Sometimes when we look back on our childhood as adults however, we find that we are much more forgiving of our parents' mishaps and follies. This however, is NOT one of those times!

I was raised in the 1970's and 80's by comparatively young parents, they themselves products of the counterculture of the 1960's. Even at a young age, and certainly as a teen, I noticed that my parents were a bit different than my friends' parents. It was embarrassing and I did not like to admit it, but we were hippies.

We made our own all-natural soap and granola from scratch, often abstained from meat, instead making entire meals from lettuce. We were good stewards of the earth in composting our leftovers, and frequented the secondhand stores as to make good use of existing abundance. To top it off we basically lived in a commune. My family, my aunt and uncle (and two cousins), my uncle and aunt (and two cousins) and my grandfather all lived on one street with only Mr. Toy, the mailman, between our four houses. There were 7 cousins and we basically did everything together using all four houses as our own. At bedtime the grown ups would open the doors and as soon as the right number of children were in the house they tucked them in and kissed them goodnight. It didn't really matter if it was the correct children for that house! Now, with a family of my own, I was carrying on these time-honored hippie traditions. Happily haunting thrift stores, grinding my own wheat and keeping backyard chickens...Until...

During a family gathering last summer, I remarked at how funny it is that no matter how hard we try to not become our parents, the inevitable happens. At forty, I had to face the fact that I, like my mother before me, was a bit of a hippie. I had almost made peace with the idea when Mom said something that dispelled all my delusions about my Bohemian, free-spirited, nature-loving, do-no-harm upbringing and attitude, "We weren't hippies, Sweetheart, we were just poor". NOW she tells me. "Hey, someone turn down that Dead album...it's time for yoga."

Quote of the Day: "You're either on the bus or off the bus." ~ Ken Kesey