Thank you, sister

Sisters discuss all sorts of things in life no matter how everyday or how personal they are.  That’s the nice things about having a sister to talk to.  I’m lucky enough to have four sisters.  Usually we always learn things from each other and are willing to help each other out with issues.

So discussion turns from family to work and everything in between.  The other week I was chatting with one of my sisters on FB and we got into the subject of feet.  Both of us stand a lot of hours at work so aching feet is a problem we can both relate to.  I find wearing closed in shoes is not for me, but it’s a requirement at work for almost any job.  In fact I have to wear way too many clothes in the summer, so I got in the habit of bringing a tank top to work I can change into for the ride home.  I keep flip-flops in the car.  The only time this thinking doesn’t apply is winter when I’m freezing.

 This is my possible athlete's foot cure

Anyway back to my subject of feet.  I get athlete’s foot if I wear closed in shoes so that’s always an issue to deal with.  My hubby laughs when he sees all my issues (dry eyes, athlete’s foot, etc) that I have to attend to everyday.  I’m sure he’s glad he doesn’t have any of this trouble.

 This is worth a try if you ever have this issue

 

I had been using Tenactin on my feet and also putting Gold Bond medicated foot powder on my feet and in my shoes.  I discovered my big bottle of Tenactin was outdated so was going to buy a new one.  My sister told me to go to Walmart and get some green alcohol (I never noticed they made that color) and to use that on my feet along with the Gold Bond powder.  Her homeopathic doctor told her about this.  She and I would both rather go the homeopathic route when we can.

I’d been washing my feet with antibacterial soap anyway so I poured the alcohol on after and let them air dry and then powdered my toes.  I started her remedy that same evening and I was amazed how well it works.  She told me I’d be amazed and she was right.  It didn’t even take two weeks to get rid of it.  So I’m sold on this now and will keep it on hand at all times.  If anyone needs help with foot issues, try this out.  It really does work.

Now maybe I’ll stop being Dr Sunni and post something else next time.

Golly gee – Another year older tomorrow

How did I make it halfway through my sixth decade of life?  Sometimes I wonder because I used to think this was so old when I was a kid.  Now of course it doesn’t seem old at all, except for all the aches and pains associated with it.  Most of the time I have to look at the calendar to realize that, yes, I’m really this old.  Thank goodness I don’t look it …yet, or so my co-workers tell me.

 This is me.  I don't post many pics of myself

I’m fortunate that I have the energy I have and keep going like a much younger person.  There’s a gal at work and we discovered we had the same birthdays a couple of months ago.  We were born in the same year on the same day but in two different places, so due to the time zones she’s about 2 hours older than me.  Of course since this came out it’s all over work, thanks to Doreen (my birth mate).  I would just as soon fly under the radar at my age.

But all this birthday talk brings up another story about a guy at work named John.  This guy is amazing.  I’m totally flabbergasted at his age and the hours he keeps.  He’s an inspiration to me for my later years.  I really think we’re cut from the same mold, but he’s about twenty years older than me.  This guy ballroom dances, goes to bed at 2 am and gets to work by 10 the next morning.  He astounds me by his story of laying wood flooring in his house until the wee hours and is still able to make it to work on time.  He always has a big smile on his face too.  When he came to work a week ago he said he’d gone to bed at 4 AM and would try his best to do the job at work that day.  Of course I want to know what his secret is because that’s so like me.  I seem to do fine on very little sleep and now I know I’m not alone in that world.  That’s a very comforting thought because John is an ordinary guy and always in a happy mood.  I like to think of myself that way too. 

This is my sister, Scherri - Happy Birthday!

Anyway to get back on track, my next birthday is tomorrow and one of my sisters is the 21^st.  We’re a year and a day apart.  She can start Medicare this year.  We’re all getting so old.  I know I never envisioned myself carrying around a Medicare card.  But I guess as long as I stay well, age is only a number.

The Haircut



When we were kids, Houston Mamaw (Mama’s mother) would always come every summer to visit.


On these summer trips, she would drag all of us girls out for a haircut. I always hated those visits because, I decided at a very early age, I wanted my hair long. Everything else about her visits were doable, even if we were thrown totally out of our normal routine.

When I was six-years-old, Mama and Rosenberg Mamaw (Daddy's mother) decided I should have a haircut and a perm for the first grade. They took me to Mamaw’s house, down the road, and had me sit in a chair in the kitchen.

Mamaw then proceeded to cut my hair to about three-inches long all over my head. After my haircut, assisted by Mama, she gave me a home pemanent. I absolutely hated that and I protested the whole time, but the complaints of a child of six fell on deaf ears. Needless to say, after this experience, nobody ever touched my hair again. I was determined and would do whatever it took to keep myself from encountering that scenario for a second time.

I remember telling them that was the last time someone was getting me in a chair and cutting my hair unless I wanted it done, which I didn't. I learned you just couldn’t trust adults and after that I managed to evade the scissors.

When Houston Mamaw came to take us all to the salon every summer, I would hide and refuse to come out. I advised my sisters to do the same, but that’s one time they didn't listen to me. Mamaw even told me I could just go along with everyone and sit in a chair and wait while they all got their hair cut. I knew this was a trick and once they got me in the car and in the salon, I would have to get a haircut as well, so I decided to stay home.

I tired to tell my sisters not to get in the car, but they wouldn't listen. I think they were afraid to assert themselves when they knew the adults were in charge of our lives. So when they all came back, later in the day,with those sad, tearful faces and those pixie haircuts, all I could say was I told you so.

Naturally, they would be very upset at having their hair cut an inch long all over their heads. “How could that even be possible?” they exclaimed!

They wanted to hide until it grew out some, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. We had to work in the fields and go about all the other adventures we had as kids and then of course there was school to think about, once fall arrrived.

This happened every year and I suppose, being the oldest, I should have raised more of a fuss and made more of an effort to keep them from being shuffled off to the salon. But of course adults have their own ideas about things and you can only do so much while still being respectful.

I told my sisters they just had to put their foot down, on that kind of thing, unless they really wanted the haircut. Mama sympathized with me and I never had to go. She knew how bad I hated that home permanent and even she had to admit it wasn’t the best job around. I was pretty sad looking until it grew out.

Those poor girls came back looking so pathetic every time with sad, puppy dog faces. They may as well have been the little elves from my stories. They never seemed to learn, or muster the courage to protest.

Mama tried to talk her mother out of it, but Mamaw had a mind of her own and Mama knew it was no use to argue, so, in the end, she would just say, “yes ma’am,” and let the girls be put into the car for the trip.

As the years passed by, they got used to the dreaded trip to the beauty parlor and I don't think they minded as much. I do think they would have preferred to pick their own hairstyle instead of getting that pixie haircut, which went on until they became teens.