Fine China and Murderous Star Fruit

So, I was reading about how to eat a Star Fruit the other day (I got one for my boy, and we'd forgotten how he divided and ate it last time) when I came across a rather important tidbit--I probably shouldn't eat Star Fruit.

It turns out, you see, that Star Fruit can be very dangerous to folks with disorders that might compromise kidney function.

Like diabetes?

Taking a look at the Star Fruit, you can see it has a sinister air:

And what's the risk to folks with messed up kidneys?  Well, death.  For a start.  Isn't that enough?

Here are a couple of articles:

Star Fruit's Effects on Folks with Impaired Kidney Function

Star Fruit's Sometimes Ill Effects on Folks with Previously Normal Renal Function

I don't think my kidneys are in trouble, but I am diabetic, so I'll just skip the Star Fruit, thank you very much.  I did let our boy eat it--he's had it before and suffered no ill effects.  But, truth be told, I'm not likely to grab this for him again.  There are other fruits he likes just as well that don't carry with them a neurotoxin warning.

I was thinking today about home decor.  About my dream home and the lovely countertops and bedstands I would love to have.  I looked around at where we live--it's just in-between, you know? It's in that place between poverty-stricken college student whose bed is on the floor and whose books rest in makeshift shelves crafted out of milk cartons and cinderblocks and lovely, warm, welcoming pulled-togetherness that my inner grown-up really craves.  And then I got to thinking how odd it is for such things to become important.  How funny it is to care about the form when all that really should matter is the function.  I mean, with a fridge, it matters whether or not it pumps ice and water out the front, because that's a functional thing.  But does it matter if it's stainless steel, fake stainless "satin" look, or just plain white?  

Why?

I dunno.  But what I do know is that I want a nice dining room table to match our lovely chairs so I can put my fancy Mikasa china on it and have it look pretty.  Which is incredibly stupid, because what matters is how the food tastes.

So, the joy of making palm wax candles is on shaky ground.  Turns out palm wax, like palm oil, is an environmental nightmare--deforestation, habitat destruction, etc.  Problem is, soy's no better--massively genetically modified, being grown on clear-cut land in South America, etc.  Paraffin is a petroleum product that makes, in my opinion, ugly candles.  And beeswax?  Expensive, not as good for throwing scent, and not really practical in large amounts.  Looking into Malaysian palm wax, which is reputed to be sustainable and closely controlled for environmental practices.  Will probably cost a lot more than we want to spend, too.  

Beautiful crystal look on a homemade palm oil candle

Woke up screaming last night.  I suffer from night paralysis, and while it's normally just scary (can't breathe), and occasionally a lot of fun (I can sometimes decide what to dream in that state), sometimes it's nightmarish.  Like last night.  My eyes were just open enough to see the mirror across the room and the flower vase in front of it.  But in the dream, it was the doorway, not the mirror, and the flowers were someone's crazy hair.  So there was some big, crazy, huge-haired monster standing in the door way.  It was very threatening.  I managed to wake up enough to reorient and put the mirror where it belongs in my head.  But then the mirror itself became sinister--yes, that was a flower vase in front, but the REFLECTION of the flowers was actually some malevolent someone INSIDE the mirror.  I went from the "trying to scream but only groaning" to full-out SCREAMING.  I swear, sometimes.

The evil mirror of my nightmares

No word from the guy who ditched me on Facebook, either he's an epic jerk or this is a tragic misunderstanding.  Either way, it's time to move on.  

Just watched the video of that hot air balloon that crashed in Egypt.  I never wanted to hot air balloon, and now I really don't want to.  Very sad--even sadder, hearing the folks in the filming balloon praying for the folks in the burning one.  No, I don't "believe," but that doesn't mean I don't feel for people who are doing the only thing they can think of to try to help.  In fact, it breaks my heart to hear people put their heart out like that.

And on that cheery note, I'm going to call it a night.  Just watched Justified, and hey, being on the east coast has its perks--THEY KILLED THE WHOLE CAST, REPLACED THEM ALL WITH ROBOTS!  IT WAS THE BIGGEST SECRET IN TELEVISION HISTORY!

Go on, be a jerk.  Ditch  me for putting out a spoiler. 

I double-dawg dare you.

Do not reprint without permission. © KAQ

Pre-planned Badness

I never had any use for the "diet during the week, go crazy on the weekends" method of dieting.  Mostly because I didn't think I could do that without my weekends getting longer and weeks getting shorter until every day was a "bad" day.  But I had to try something new.

I had to, because, after 180 lbs lost, I was all outta steam.  My weight loss had stalled, I'd tried all the tricks alleged to get things moving again, but there I sat, gaining and losing the same five pounds.  Until I gave up.  Until all my "just this once" excuses converged into a 65 pound gain.  On the bright side, I'm still down a hundred and fifteen pounds.

On the not-at-all bright side?  Instead of being at my goal weight, I'm 65 lbs heavier than I was a year ago.  So it's time for a new approach.  And that new approach is this--Monday through Friday, I'm good as gold.  The weekend?  I'm free.  Just finishing up the second week of this, and I'm down seven pounds.  Please.  I need something to take.  I've tried being reasonable and good all the time, making positive changes (most of which stuck), but 1200 calories a day isn't a heck of a lot of food.  I need the break.

Went to Wegmans tonight.  Found some amazing fruit, things I'd never seen before, like "Sumo" oranges (look like giant, knobby minneolas) and Opal apples.  Also grabbed more of my Macoun apples, a few Bosc pears, and star fruit and kiwi for the boy.  Oh, and blood oranges!  Haven't seen those in ages!

It wasnt a good night at Wegmans, though.  Normally, the folks there are super-friendly, but tonight we got stuck with the surly, impatient, snotty checker from hell.  Name was Eunice.  Funny, her name was the closest to "nice" she got.  A lot of impatient sniffs and tuts, a lot of slamming our groceries around and bagging carelessly, and even a pissy sigh with an eye roll when hubby handed her seven whole coupons.  Oh, and she actually demanded that hubby count the oranges.  Packed the Eclairs (for the weekend) sideways so the chocolate scraped off on the lid.  It was very disappointing--we go to Wegmans, in large part, because it's NOT a Walmart experience.  But Eunice sure made it feel like one.  We actually sent a complaint in to corporate.  This is only the second time in a year-and-a-half we've gotten rude service at Wegmans.  The first time was at the Wegmans near Fairfax, but we let it pass because it's not our usual store.  This one is, and I won't put up with it.  I don't want Eunice fired, I just want her to be spoken to, I want her to do better.

Hubby sort of has five days off.  He has five days home, anyway--Friday and Tuesday teleworking, and the days between off.  We like that.  A lot.

Set up an appointment for Charlie's vaccinations and heartworm test.  90 bucks.  Would have been more than twice that at our regular vet.  Astounding.

Speaking of medical crap, I've got a mammogram, a pelvic, an annual physical, and the stupid basal cell thing, all needing to be taken care of in the next three months.  Aren't I the pricy girl?

On the iPad.  I'll stick pics in tomorrow.