Kristal Lee

When I read that the aroma of green apples can control appetite, I laughed.  Stuff a green apple up my nose and then serve me a pizza. See if I don’t scarf it down with as much gusto as I would if I didn’t have fruit lodged in my nostrils.

Good or bad, smells can influence us and they can permeate your memories just like your clothes can absorb odors.

When I get a whiff of freshly baked peach cobbler I’m transported to the days when  Granny had chicken and dumplins on the table and a cobbler in the oven. Her house filled with family and friends from far and near.  A constant roar rising from everyone talking at and over everyone else, reaching a point of chaos if you weren’t used to the rapid fire conversations.

A Norman Rockwell family we weren’t. But we had love and hope and acceptance. The smell of peach cobbler brings me back to all those wonder feelings.

But not all scent associations are positive.

Late one afternoon, Professor X and I went to an early dinner with a certain  someone.  I climbed in the backseat of Prof X’s two-door car so that this certain someone could ride up front. 

Within seconds of us pulling out of the garage, I thought I would have a heat stroke. Being cramped into a black car that’s absorbed the unrelenting  mid-August-in-Florida sun is like being stuffed in an oven. Taking pity on my sweat-induced fanning fit, Prof X (bless his heart)  turned on the car’s  A/C full blast. 

What hit me in the face can’t  be described by such mambie-pambie words like foul, pungent, or atrocious. I don’t think that a word exists in the English language that would come close to describing a stink worse than a rotting corpse three times over.

Tears trickled from the corners of my eyes as I squinted against the brutal bombardment of  this stench. My stomach somersaulted, violently, and made a desperate attempt to claw through my back in order to squirm into the trunk to hide. I didn’t dare open my mouth to speak.  I didn’t want that funk imprinted on my tongue or cloyed in my throat.

Prof X was oblivious to the smell and to my plight. So was the certain someone riding with us. The certain someone to whom  I now refer to as Pepe le Pew.

The decrepit odor swirled around Pepe like the dust cloud surrounding Charlie Brown’s friend Pigpen.

I  realized two crappy truths  about two-door cars. The backseat has no windows to roll down or doors to jump out of.  I wouldn’t have waited for a stop sign or red light .  Road rash was worth the chance to breathe fresh air.

Once we stopped at the restaurant, I might’ve knocked Pepe over in my zeal to get away from him. I say “might have” because I was oxygen deprived from holding my breath for ten miles and I was on the fringe of an out of body experience. Even the eternal being within me wanted  to get the heck away from that god-awful smell.

It’s imprinted in my brain. Not only the smell, but the nausea associated with it and the feeling of being trapped. All of it  comes rushing back at the mere thought of climbing into the backseat of a car.

Some people can’t smell skunks. I wish I was one of them. Maybe I wouldn’t have been affected by Pepe.

Smell cells renewed every twenty-eight days, so basically you get a new nose every month. That’s good news to me. I needed a new one after that repulsive experience.

Want to ensure mosquitoes stay away from your outdoor bar-b-que? Decorate with smelly socks.  Or have a friend with really stinky feet stand in the back corner of the yard. 

Researchers have found mosquitoes are four times more attracted to the smell of stinky socks than they are to people.  Scientists hope to find a way to cheaply mass-produce the stinky sock smell to help fight malaria by using the scent to lure the mosquitoes to their death.

Stressed? Anxious? Blood pressure too high? Before running to the doctor for a handful of prescription meds try eating more beans.  A 2008 study suggests that the stink in farts controls blood pressure.  I really would’ve hated to have been a volunteer for that study group.

Had an accident in your new car?  You could’ve been drunk on the new car scent, according to one study.  Apparently the fumes from the upholstery and carpet can be toxic and cause light-headedness and fainting spells. A Colorado man’s defense team claim the “new car smell” may have caused him to hit a cyclist Vail.   I’m not sure how they’ll explain why he left the scene of the accident instead of calling 9-1-1.

Got a stink story? Share your ordeal.

Or, if you have a sweet-smelling memory indulge me with that too.

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It happened somewhere between 11:00pm and 5:00am. I went to sleep with a flat tummy and poof! I arose with a marshmallowy middle. Prof X’s first response was to poke my belly button to see if I giggled like the Pillsbury dough boy.

I didn’t.

He tried to lighten my mood with reassurances.
WARNING: I like squeezing your cushy parts is NOT a comfort to a woman whose body has unexpectedly metamorphosized into something other than a supermodel.

How the hell did this happen?

I eat right.
Mostly.
Ok, pizza, buffalo chicken sandwiches and French fries might appear more often than not in my diet but otherwise I avoid dairy products, fried and other high fat foods.

Exercise?
Most days I’m on the go from the time I roll out of bed until I roll back into it. I’ve little time for an exercise routine. A body in constant motion burns calories, right? And, now that I think about it, sometimes I run in my sleep. That should count for something.

Age?
Don’t even mention it. I’ll pull a Ralph Kramden with a Pow! Right in the kisser.

Without a foreseeable cause, I’m forced to conclude that the sudden deconditioning of my middle is the direct result of …<looks over shoulder and whispers> …a body snatcher. You know what that means, don’t you? 

Aliens are among us.
I’ve watched the X-Files. I know such things are true.

Hollywood has been blatantly exposing the mechanisms of this alien subterfuge since the 1950s with cinematic features such as Invasion of the Body Snatchers and The Puppet Masters. Even now, the warnings are clear.

1. Aliens are zombie-izing our children. (Ask Noah Wylie. He deals with this problem weekly on Falling Skies.)

2. Aliens are snatching the waistlines of maturing women and replacing them with fluff. (It happened to me. It could happen to you.)

Ladies, it’s imperative that you protect yourselves from this type of attack. Guard your middles! These aliens are ninja-trained, slipping past even the ever observant Monster Puppy who instantly alerts when something is amiss. They are shadows that lie in wait, waiting to pounce when you are most vulnerable.

Be diligent. Once these perilous invaders disappear with your flat tummy, you’re forever altered.

But, you don’t have to be defeated. I’ve discovered a new Yoga instructor who promises to help women, just like me, who’ve had their waists stolen.


 

Have you experienced an alien abduction of the waist? Have you overcome or succumb to the alien fluff? How has this encounter impacted your life? You are not alone!

I grew up in a town without malls or entertainment complexes.  We played by climbing trees, exploring cow pastures, and making up our own games to pass the time.

Photo Source

The smell of fresh cut grass and powder blue skies remind me of those lazy summer days. We'd sprawl on the ground, flat on our backs, and take turns interpreting the story unfolding in the cottony-white clouds drifting across the heavens. What started as a pony frolicking in a meadow could morph into a fire-breathing dragon and evolve into a Death Star battle depending to whom the story baton was passed.


Everyone got a chance to let their imagination soar and no one complained about story arcs or genres.

In today's society it seems the art of cloud watching has gone the way of the dinosaur. Kids spend more time indoors absorbed in electronic stimulation rather than exploring the outdoor world around them.

Imagination need not be stifled or stilted because of the electronic revolution. I've Stumbled Upon an awesome site that inspires creativity.   At Neave Interactive I can make electronic clouds and let my imagination run free even when I can't leave my desk.

Are you a cloud watcher? What's the most unusual cloud shape that you've seen? What do you do to stimulate your imagination?

Have you ever scooped a turtle out of the road before it gets creamed by an unobservant driver? Swerved to miss a squirrel? Or fed an errant cat because it meowed incessantly at the back door at dinner time?

I have…too many times to count, much to Professor X’s dismay.  It’s my nature. I see an animal in trouble and I help it, or find someone with experience who can.

I’ve rescued squirrels, birds, cats, dogs, turtles. I’ve even resuscitated a lizard that had all but given up its reptilian ghost.

Until recently, I never thought about how the furbabies viewed my rescue efforts.  They’re rescued dogs.  Monster Puppy came to us at 10 weeks old; his mother pulled from a kill-shelter and later found to be pregnant. Brave Little Basset arrived a year later, after being abused and abandoned. He more than MP probably understands the value of helping those in need.

One afternoon, nearly dusk, Professor X opened the French doors for MP and BLB to go outside. Within a few minutes, a storm began blowing in from the South. In the distance, thunder began rolling. Not quite a rumble, but a definite warning of the monstrous rain heading toward us.

It seemed odd when Professor X called for me to wrangle the furbabies inside.  MP and BLB are afraid of storms and they think my lap is the safest place in the universe when the sky monster begins shaking the heavens. 

I found MP prancing frantically on the back porch, urging his fur-brother to hurry.

And with ears flapping in the breeze as he scurried across the yard ahead of the rain was BLB. Only he wasn’t alone.

BLB had scooped up a young armadillo and was dashing toward the  porch’s doggie door determined to save the critter  from the impeding monsoon. If  Professor X hadn’t quickly closed the French doors, BLB would’ve raced into the house with his first rescue.

Professor X looked at me and said, “He takes after you.”

I have to admit, I’m mighty proud of that.

 Are you a critter rescuer? What's your favorite rescue story? Have your furbabies picked up any of your habits or traits?

The final film installment of the Harry Potter franchise is out. I'm skipping work so Professor X and I can catch today's matinee. Whoot! Whoot!

Here's a look back at the trials and triumphs of Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Distraught over the HP finale? Don't worry, Pottermore will continue Harry's story.  And you can live the adventure at Universal Orlando's The Wizarding World of Harry Potter where you can shop for your magic wand at Ollivander 's.


Harry and his friends used patronuses to help them escape dire situations. Need some help fending off negative energy or overwhelming circumstances? Check out the Harry Potter Patronus App, then come back here and leave a comment telling us what your patronus is. Mine's a fox.

Back in the 1930's, the term public enemy referred to criminals such as Al Capone, John Dillinger, Baby Face Nelson, Bonnie and Clyde, and Ma Barker who were seen as extreme threats to society. Today I would expect Al Queda leaders to top the public enemy list.

Come to find out, Americans should be more afraid of potatoes than terrorists. Yeah, that's right...the scrumptdillicious potato is the biggest threat to the Nation. Or at least, its waist line. The US Department of Agriculture estimates the typical American woofs down 117 pounds of potatoes each year, including 41 pounds of frozen french fries.

Obviously, they didn't query me because that seems ridiculously low by my consumption standard. If I were stranded on a desert island with only one natural food source, dear god please let it be the potato and not the coconut.

A joint study between Harvard Medical School and the Harvard School of Public Health found that  extra serving of potatoes contributed to an average weight gain of 1.3 pounds to 3.4 pounds over a four year period, depending on how someone preferred their spuds served. On average, that's more than the junk in the trunk packed on by drinking sodas or eating beef.  (Orlando Sentinel article, 6/24/11)
 
Oh, the horror.

Discovering my favorite side-dish is broadening my butt is too much bear.


Oh what a relief.

All this time, I've blamed my weight gain on the lack of exercise.  I can stop trying to fit the gym into my schedule now.

Oh, the revulsion...I can't give up potatoes. I'll give up ice cream before bed, sweet rolls for breakfast, and fried buffalo chicken sandwiches for dinner, but I will not give up potatoes.  I will harbor them in my pantry so that I can slice them and dice them, fry them, mash them, bake them and broil them.

Potatoes have been a dietary staple for thousands of years. They contain 0 fat, 0 cholesterol; have 7 grams of protein and 7 grams of fiber; and are loaded with vitamins A & C, iron, and calcium. So why the bad rap?

The up to 63 grams of carbohydrates per serving is my guess.

A quick Google search on high carb foods revealed fructose, granular sugar, drink powders, hard candies, gummies, sugary cereals, dried fruits, rice cakes, low fat crackers, flour, cakes, cookies, jams and preserves have more carbs per serving than potatoes.  Woohoo! Loads of foods to give up before potatoes.

Lucky me.  I love potatoes any way you serve them, except the boxed au-gratin kind. Uck!

Professor X's favorite is red potatoes tossed in olive oil and season salt, then broiled in the toaster oven until crispy on the outside, tender on the inside.  Mmmmm.

Not to be deterred by the potato's new public enemy status, I'm on the hunt for new ways to serve 'em up. So, how do you do your spuds?

Beowulf's Burial Mound: Photo Source

Samhain, pronounced sow-in, is often credited with the origins of the secular and modern-day Halloween holiday and there have been misconceptions of the Ancient Celt festival as being evil and a time of devil worship.

The term Samhain translates to mean "summer's end" and the Samhain festival was a celebration of the end of the light season and the beginning of the dark season, but that shouldn't imply anything sinister. The Ancient Celts believed a new day began with nightfall. To them, the "dark" was the birth of new beginnings. And so Samhain marked the beginning of a new year.

In early Ireland, people gathered for Samhain at the end of harvest. Fire played a pivot role in the celebration. Hearth-fires were extinguished and a priest, or Druid, would light a central bonfire. Gifts were given to show gratitude for the harvest, prayers were offered and sacraments were cast into the fire. At dawn, each household would take a a torch or a burning ember from the flames and rekindle their home fires.

 Samhain was considered an "in-between time." Not belonging to the old year and not yet a part of the new year. It was viewed as a time outside the natural state of things. A time of reversals. A time of chaos and upheaval. A time when the dead could return to their loved one and celebrate.

In ancient days, Samhain would've been celebrated at the end of the harvest. It wasn't until Christianity spread that firm dates were established for celebrations. In 835, Pope Gregory combined pre-Christian festivals with Christian celebrations to make the acceptance of Church doctrine more appealing to new converts.  Samhain  was blended with other religious festivals, such as All Hallow's Day and All Saints Day.

But some of the ancient traditions survived the Christian invasion. According to Celtic legend, a magickal apple tree grows at the heart of the Otherworld and many a hero set out across the sea to find this mystical place in order to eat its enchanted fruit. Re-enacting this quest, villagers poured water into large wooden tubs, tossed in apples and took turns bobbing, or "dookin'" for them.

Ancient Celts also wore costumes and painted masks as a way to placate the spirits that roamed the villages during Samhain. Today, children and adults alike dress up for a night of trick-or-treating. They attend parties, hold bonfires, and tell ghost stories. Many never realizing how old theses traditions really are or the meaning behind them.

So, what Halloween traditions will you celebrate this year?