Begonias Do Not Like Full Sun and Intense Heat

It took most of the summer, but the Begonias finally decided to bloom.  They do not like intense heat and full sun blazing down on them all day.  While they arrived full of buds in the late spring, they never bloomed well. I think I saw one or two at a time throughout part of the summer, even when I shaded them.  I eventually moved them under a tree where they receive partial sun in the morning and dappled sun in the afternoon.  After a few days, the buds burst into lovely blooms.  I haven't decided whether I will plant these again in the spring.  I may try for a hardier variety that is a little more drought-tolerant.  Since our average first frost occurs from late October through early November, these have plenty of time to grow.

I'm thinking about meadowscaping my yard. That process will need to begin in the fall.

What are your thoughts on growing Begonias?

What are your thoughts on meadowscaping?

Atrial Fibrillation and Intermittent Fasting: Is IF Doing More Harm Than Good?

I came across an article today about intermittent fasting and wanted to share my own experience with it. I've included the link to the article at the bottom of this post.

I have been doing IF 18:6 for some years now, but lately had started noticing a lot of muscle weakness, inability to focus, irritability, extreme fatigue, and joint pain, as well as a significant increase in AFib episodes. I had also gained ten pounds since my last doctor visit, three months ago, which completely floored me. He asked me if I knew what intermittent fasting was and if I had ever tried it. I told him I was fasting every day for 18 hours. I decided to scale back on intermittent fasting. The first thing I noticed was that the AFib episodes decreased. Within a couple of weeks, all the other symptoms disappeared.

When intermittent fasting became "the thing," it seemed to be the cure-all for every ailment. If you were eating the Standard American Diet, you were likely overweight, your body was inflamed, your hormones were out of whack, and you were insulin-resistant. You needed to scale back to eating one or two meals per day and fasting for 18 hours or more to shift your body into a state of autophagy. Autophagy is your body's way of taking sickly, or otherwise non-functioning cells and either getting rid of them or recycling and regenerating them. There is much literature available on autophagy and what it does that I'll discuss in another post.

I developed atrial fibrillation after contracting Covid in late 2020. After doing a deep dive into how to heal my body naturally, I changed my diet and began intermittent fasting in 2021. Everyone on the holistic medicine community was recommending it. Of course, it had not been thoroughly tested. Many hypothesized that we should eat like our ancestors did. They ate infrequently and went for long periods with no food. They didn't fast on purpose. They ate when food was plentiful and went without when it wasn't.

Lately, there have been grumblings throughout natural medicine that perhaps intermittent fasting isn't all that it's cracked up to be, especially for women. Women's bodies, after all, are different. They are designed to hold onto fat and to support life. That's why it's harder for women to lose weight than it is for men. Intermittent fasting creates too big of a deficit. Eventually, the gains that we thought we were making by fasting for long periods of time were being lost.

I am not a medical expert. However, I think the information is compelling enough to warrant a reconsideration of whether IF is more harmful than beneficial.  After reading this article, reviewing a number of studies, and listening to the experts, I doubt that I will go back to intermittent fasting.  Our bodies require food to produce energy.  Taking our fuel source away for an extended time is the same as expecting to drive the whole way across the continent on a 1/3 tank of gas.

The article below was written by Dr. Brad Stanfield. Dr. Stanfield is a general practitioner based in Auckland, New Zealand. I have been following him for quite some time and have a great deal of respect and admiration for him. I believe that he genuinely cares for people and wants to help them. I have learned a great deal from him about health and nutrition.

https://drstanfield.com/blogs/articles/longevity-experts-warning-fasting?_kx=YDuBjjadEJuOoKEVf8FOvvB0jJdVtoiaoavxACxueII.Ws2UjD

Male Ruby Throated Hummingbird Guarding the Feeder

 

A male hummingbird at the feeder. He has been sitting at this feeder for much of the day. He will periodically go to one of the others, but always comes back to this one. He will sometimes share it with a female. Other times, he will run her off. I love these little guys so much. I put out 4 feeders this year. I clean them out and replenish the nectar every other day. I have bought the Pennington brand of nectar, but will start making my own soon. Remember, the ratio is 1 part granulated white sugar to 4 parts water. Do not use any kind of dye. It is very harmful to them. By the way, it looks like the feeder is empty. It isn't. I checked it this afternoon, and the bottom still has nectar in it. I don't fill them all the way up, since I change the nectar every other day. I only add about a half a cup. If they start consuming more, I will add more. For now, though, a half cup at a time in each feeder is more than enough for the number of birds that I have, and I always make sure they can reach it.

I do want to share a bit of a sad story… or rather one that makes me angry, still to this day. A few years ago, an “acquaintance,” I will call her, "Judy," decided to start feeding hummingbirds on her back deck. After a brief time, she became incensed that one of them was dominating the feeder. Obviously, she never read up on them to know that this is normal behavior for them. Rather than educate herself, take the advice of the experts, and spend $4 on another feeder, or just take down the one feeder, and stop feeding them, she had her adult son shoot and kill the hummingbird with an Airsoft gun. He is the one who told me about it. This was after I told him not to do it. She later told me that she had him kill the hummingbird, “Because she hates a bully.” Her son had his teenage son bury the bird in the yard. Of course, it was a big joke, and none of them ever felt any remorse about it. They simply made excuses. I realize that we have to forgive people for their ignorance, but this still really bothers me. Perhaps, it's because I didn't unload my thoughts on her when I had the chance. At the time, I don't think I could have reacted to the situation with any degree of tact. If you can’t commit to feeding hummingbirds, or any other birds for that matter, and you aren’t willing, or able, to learn about their behaviors, and how to do things the right way, so as not to harm them, please don’t bother feeding them. They will find food elsewhere. With that being said, I am not trying to discourage anyone from taking up the hobby. It can be incredibly rewarding to feed birds, study their behaviors, and learn about them, and we should do what we can to help, since their natural habitats are disappearing due to urban spread. However, it requires a commitment of time and money, and sometimes, the ability to be creative and think outside of the box to make it all work (i.e. providing fresh food and water, cleaning the feeders and watering stations regularly, having multiple feeders and watering stations, etc). If you decide you want to feed hummingbirds, or other birds, there are tons of books, videos, and other resources that will teach you how to do things that will help and not harm these precious friends. And remember... anything you can do to help pollinators thrive, whether hummingbirds, bees, butterflies, and other species, will be highly beneficial to our planet and every living thing.

Only Trust Someone Who Can See These 3 Things in You

My Happy Little Place

I bought a solar fountain for the birds... but mostly for me. Right now, this is my happy little place.

As much as I love clouds, I love the birds. I delight in their singing.  All of nature can soothe the most savage heart and calm the most chaotic mind.  I can be having the worst day, but as soon as I step outdoors, hear the birds and cicadas singing, feel the breeze as it whispers through the trees, and see the cotton ball clouds drifting overhead, it completely transforms me.  It's funny.  I spent years never going outdoors unless I had to. I rarely ever even opened my blinds. 

One day, I did though, and it made such a difference.  If you are in a dark place, let in some light. 

Dragonflies

Dragonflies fascinate me. I have seen more this summer than in past years. It may be because I planted flowers. From my office window, I can watch them darting back and forth throughout the day.  Early this morning, I went out to water the flowers before the heat index reached DEFCON scorched earth, and I saw this fellow on the side of the house.  I saw a second one on the pavement that was a beautiful green.  That photo didn't come out as well, but I'll share it anyway. I hope to get a better one soon.

Isn't he a beauty?

Of course, an added benefit of attracting dragonflies is that they eat mosquitoes.  If you want to attract dragonflies to your yard, consider planting Yarrow, Milkweed, Back-eyed Susan, Meadow Sage, or any other number of pollinator-friendly plants.  It also helps to have a water feature in your yard, such as a birdbath or pond.  Since dragonflies are aquatic and begin their lives in water, this will give them a place to breed.  If you're worried about attracting mosquitoes, mosquito larvae can't thrive in water that's two feet deep, but dragonfly babies can.

A Necessary Indulgence

 

The heat index here is 108 and climbing.  An hour north of me, a year ago, it was 127.  Ice cream is a necessary indulgence.  I don't typically care for fruited ice cream, but I have to admit, this combination is very good.  I would definitely buy these again.  Bordeaux Cherry Amaretto (black cherries, almonds, amaretto) and Amaretto Peach Charlotte (peaches, ladyfinger cookies, and almonds). At least the almonds are healthy, no?

At least I got the flowers to come back.  Between the heat and the insects, I was about ready to toss everything into the trash.  I had set the containers on the concrete patio, and the radiant heat was burning up the roots.  Aphids and some little green caterpillars had also taken up residence among the leaves.  Even though I had treated them for aphids, and had been watering them every other day, they were nearly all dead, except for a few spindly stalks of green. I moved the containers onto the lawn, and within three days, they were turning green and blooming again.  I even have a few begonias bursting into blooms. I will post some photos soon.

I noticed a Blue Jay on the edge of the birdbath today, but he didn't drink from it, or bathe in it. I wonder if it's too deep.  I had placed a large glass pie plate out on the ground as a temporary birdbath.  It saw lots of action, but I wanted something taller, since stray cats and other wildlife roam the yard.  The birdbath doesn't get used nearly as much.  I ordered a solar fountain for it and will drop the water depth a bit when it shows up tomorrow. Pics to follow.

When Flowers Bloom Into Wishes

It's mid-July. The summer is wasting away. The days are so hot now that walking outdoors is like walking into a blast furnace and the 100+ heat threatens to scorch your brain cells. Still, being outdoors is a thousand times better than being stuck inside staring at a computer screen all day. So, I drag the lawn chair to the backyard, sit in the sun, and listen to the songs of the birds and the cicadas. Their sounds bring a sense of peace and calm from the chaotic clamoring in my mind. 

Back in March, I had started thinking about planting wildflowers in the backyard to reduce my lawn. Lawns are silly. They don't serve much purpose. The grass grows, and we cut it, or pay someone else to cut it, once a week... once every two weeks... It's a stalemate between you and the grass, and it's a complete waste of time, money, and energy. 

It's not that well-manicured lawns look bad. They don't. But why not plant something useful and create manicured walking paths among the wildflowers? The wildflowers will feed the birds, and the bees, and the butterflies. They will drink the rain and the dew, and display their glorious blooms for a season. When they wither, they will feed the soil, provide cover for insects and small mammals, reseed themselves, and break forth to bloom again in the spring.

The most well-manicured lawn can't compete with that.

The days tick by... the months... the seasons. I stare at the lawn, which has withered and browned in the intense southwest heat. The parched earth splits apart from the summer drought.  "Be careful where you walk," I tell myself, while prickly blades of grass crunch under my bare feet.  As odd as it sounds, I find the brown, dying lawn more appealing now than when it was lush and green. 

A not-so-random thought emerges that I speak out loud to myself. "It's too late to plant anything, now." And I derive a sense of relief knowing that the time to plant has indeed long passed, and I am, somehow, now absolved of the responsibility, because I never planted the wildflowers. I only dreamt about them. I only wrote about them, and became lost in the overwhelm.  

The overwhelm is my near-constant companion. It's the precursor to procrastination.  It's the thing that keeps me from moving forward on any project.

You've heard the phrase, "You have to eat the elephant one bite at a time."

Focusing on the overwhelm is the brain envisioning you eating the whole elephant all at once, rather than taking it on one bite at a time.  It lets you see the goal on the other side, and it lets you see where you are at the starting point, but everything in between resembles a Jackson Pollock painting. There is no form. There is no path. There is no way to get there from here. So, you sink into procrastination, and you abandon yet another project that may have brought you a bit of joy and a sense of accomplishment. The pattern of procrastination always leaves a void.

Fall comes. Winter comes. Another spring. Another summer. And the flowers bloom into wishes.

Socks on the Floor

Have you ever woke up in a bad mood, but didn't know why?  It's as if, during the night, all the baggage you stewed about for the past week converged at the front of your psyche and you woke up ready to fight with the first thing you saw.  

Even something so small as a sock lying on the floor can set you off.  You get up and kick it across the floor as if it's the fault of the sock that it somehow animated itself and deliberately jumped out of the hamper and landed on the floor, just to piss you off.  Or, if you're an all-or-nothing, scorched earth sort of person, you decide to grab it off the floor, find its mate, and throw the pair in the trash, because you can't take a chance on both of them rebelling against you.  You know that if you let them get away with that kind of behavior, the next thing you know, there will be a coup, and your hamper full of dirty laundry will literally take over.  There will be dingy socks scattered on the floor, stained shirts loafing on the furniture, and dirty underwear dangling from the light fixtures.

Then, the dishes in the sink will hear about it, and launch their own takeover, thrusting your entire home into a state of chaos.

If you let it, waking up that way will set the tone for the rest of your day.  It doesn't matter what caused it.  It could be anything from lack of sleep to dehydration, to hormonal changes, to nutritional deficiencies, to the fact that you stayed up too late watching a movie.  Regardless, you have to get a hold of "it" before "it" gets ahold of you.  The "it" I'm referring to is that really shitty mood that grabs you first thing in the morning and won't let go.  While it can affect anyone at any time, this is a frequent struggle for people with C-PTSD.  You have the power to overcome it, but you need to find your "thing."  The thing that works to get you out of your own head.

Gratitude helps.

Find one thing to be grateful for.  Nothing is too small or too stupid.  After all, this is your moment. Your day.  Your life.  If you are thankful for something, express it.  Speak it out loud.  It doesn't matter whether you thank God, thank the universe, or thank the thing itself.  The goal here is to shift your mood and improve your sense of self.

Try this experiment:

Get out of bed, pour yourself an 8-ounce glass of water, and drink it.  I say 8 ounces because you want enough water to start hydrating your cells, but not so much that it just runs through you.  This important step will begin to rehydrate you.  Most people are mildly to moderately dehydrated, which affects your mood, your sleep, and your overall health.  

Step into a hot shower.  Are you grateful for having a hot shower to step into? How good does that water feel on your body? What about the sound of the shower running?  Does it soothe your mind?  Lather up. Think about the feel and the scent of your shampoo as you massage your scalp.  Rinse.  Gaze down at the drain and envision all the chaos swirling away from you.

How many things did you find to be grateful for?  

Sometimes, one of the first steps to healing from complex trauma is learning to find one thing that gets you out of your own head.

When you allow yourself to express gratitude for the mundane things in life, you will quickly find that you have a lot more to be thankful for than you thought. So, tomorrow morning, when you wake up, think of at least one thing you are grateful for before you get out of bed.  Then, maybe, something so small as a sock on the floor won’t trigger your fight response, and you can save your sanity for the day’s more meaningful battles.

The Uses of Sorrow by Mary Oliver

(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)

Someone I loved once gave me

a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand

that this, too, was a gift.

- “The Uses of Sorrow” by Mary Oliver (1935-2019), from "Thirst," 2007. Beacon Press.

When CPTSD is Your Real Story

Everyone has a story.  What's yours?

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or CPTSD, is something I knew nothing about until a year ago. Like most people, I was familiar with its counterpart, PTSD, and generally associated it with military men and women who had been in combat. I later learned that PTSD isn't limited to combat, but can manifest from other traumatic events, like the loss of a loved one, a car accident, a natural disaster, or some other impactful event. CPTSD, on the other hand, is a different animal, and results from prolonged trauma, as occurs with child abuse.

I started exploring CPTSD after learning about how it manifests itself in adulthood through such conditions as adult ADHD and OCD. If you deal with these conditions, it may not be you, it may be your trauma, acting out.  The reason I separate you from your trauma is because you are not your trauma.  It's like you are two different individuals. There's your authentic self, who is likely hiding behind your trauma.

Do you struggle with making decisions, procrastinating, forming healthy relationships, reaching out to others, and asking for help? Are you a perfectionist? Do you have trouble focusing, staying engaged with a conversation, or sticking with a task? Maybe you can't even get started from one day to the next, because you feel mentally exhausted. Do you have impulsive or addictive behaviors? These might all be signs of CPTSD. If you are, or have been, a victim of abuse whether verbal, physical, or sexual, you may be experiencing the manifestations of CPTSD in your life.

For most of my adult life, I only discussed my past abuse with a few select individuals.  Most people who have known me have had no idea.  And I can say, with 100% certainty, that those who have known me have never really known "me." That includes my own family. Why do I say that? Because when you have CPTSD, you can't be your authentic self.  In fact, you may not even know who your authentic self is. You spend so much time and energy trying to be the person you "think" others want you to be, that you never get to know your authentic self. So, in effect, you become sort of a robot.  You go through the motions of life, attaching to others and adapting to their ideals, and hiding your own needs, wants, and desires, because you put yourself last, thinking if you don't please others, they won't like you and they will leave you.

Of course, it's irrational, but your subconscious doesn't know that, and that's who's running your life. This is what can happen when Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, otherwise referred to as CPTSD, C-PTSD, or Complex Trauma is your real story.

Peanut Butter and Jelly

It’s the age-old problem. What do you want to eat? You look through the fridge. Milk. Cheese. Dates (those are healthy, right)? Butter. Pickles. Ketchup. Mayonnaise. Mustard. Strawberry preserves (another health food… sort of). Long forgotten, unidentifiable leftovers from another time (Yeah, I should probably throw that away the next time the trash runs)… I should also probably shop for groceries and get some grown-up food. 

The freezer doesn’t yield much better results. 

The pantry is just depressing. 

I spot a jar of peanut butter in the corner on a shelf, reach for it, and hold it up in the air as if it’s some cosmic trophy.

“Alas, all is not lost. We shall feast, and feast we shall.” I said out loud to the universe, as I glanced down at my cat, Lilly, who was neither impressed nor amused. She simply blinked, flicked her tail in the air, and walked away with that dismissive swagger that only a cat owner knows.

I pulled a package of flatbread from the freezer and tossed a piece into the toaster oven. Once warm, I slathered some peanut butter and strawberry preserves on it, and lunch was served with a side of cold milk. Behold, the peanut butter and jelly on warm flatbread sandwich (at least it’s more grown-up than plain old white bread… maybe). 

My tastebuds have never grown up. Breakfast consisted of banana pancakes, with chocolate chips, and a hot cup of coffee that I set down somewhere, and still have yet to find, among the mental chaos that fills my days. It’s long cold by now. Not suitable for a morning brew, but perhaps salvageable for an afternoon icy mocha with a drizzle of chocolate syrup.