Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Disgruntled Health Nut

I have had it up to here (over my head) with my teenage sons. Just as I was about to top my popcorn addiction with melted butter, one of those beasts informed me that melted coconut oil is not only healthier but tasty as well. I nearly flung the stove top popcorn maker at him. I should have.

Because in the past year, they have both been getting into the health scene. One day we are doing our monthly fast food restaurant visit, and the next they are concerned about the mere quarter cup of processed sugar in one soda. "All of that stuff is junk. It's bad for you," they whine. So there goes my excuse to pig out on grease laden fries and questionable sandwiches.

And exercise? Used to be I could get away with walking our dog around the block. I mean, if it's at a crisp pace, isn't that enough? But noooo. Now I get tethered into gym workouts. I thought I was going in for pie and lattes last month. Turns out I am now signed up for Pilates!!! Imagine my pains, enduring twice a week inner core body moves that the human body was not designed for.

When I try to get out of working out with them, I get eye rolling and guilt trips. What the fudge is going on here, people? Does my suffering know no bounds?

The only thing that saves me is the six daily hours they are in school. They are not home to witness my weekly nibbling of spice drops, the only good candy left in the United States. I know those spicy gelatin wonders are coated in crunchy, thick white sugar. That they are stuffed with corn syrup and hazardous food dye. That baby carrots are yummy, too, but won't wear down my liver. But, dangnabitt! What is the reason for being a hard working writer if I can't savor the wild side of unhealthy living? I have rights too, you know.

But I'll tell you one thing for certain. If they try and take Cabernet from me, I am not making any more tofu stir frys or organic butternut squash roasts. And forget camping trips because nature and sun are supposedly 'good' for you. There is only so much a woman can take.

I am so ruffled by this change forced onto my life style, that I refuse to tell my son that the coconut oil drizzled over the popcorn actually is yummier than butter. And you have better not tell him either! If you do, I will drag you down with me on a pilates-driven ship while we snack on edemame and avoid gluten.

Well, good night then. I have to get a decent sleep because proper sleep time is needed for mental alertness and better health. Yeah, I know. I've succumbed to their way of thinking. Despicable, miserable mother, just trying to make the most out of what life has hit me with.

Heather Leigh,
Coconut oil popcorn martyr

Monday, May 9, 2016

Improper Birds

Naughty stuff going down in our maple tree. Birdie porn on a branch. Seems there is one particular limb that is a favorite swingers spot for swallows. IN MY FRONT YARD!

How did this particular branch become the local House of Ill Repute? Is there an underground club where such things are chirped about? Is it a privately owned branch with a hired marketing firm? I mean, there must be a thousand limbs on that big tree--why pick on just one?

You are probably thinking that I am supporting the horrid behavior by watching and writing about it. But, sheesh, every time I finish a paragraph and glance out the window, I have a bird's eye view of the continuous party. What once was a healthy habit of not over-gazing at my computer screen has turned into sick, stalker, depraved writing.

It is said that writers need to have many life experiences to yank out topics to write about. I don't know how I am going to use these gross carrying-ons of the local bird gangs. But someday, somewhere, I will use this knowledge. I am certain that Mother Nature did not impose upon my vantage point with out future reason. I have trust in the Universe.

And what about those birds?

Those misguided youths are flagrantly displaying public acts of egg fertilization. I hope they understand the gravity of what they are pursuing for a moment of birdie bliss. Because I can foresee the arduous task of nest building taking over their time. Saturday nights spent chirping on telephone wires will now be taken over by the home building process.

Are these rebellious couples ready to be parents? Do they have what it takes to fish out worms from the soil at all hours of the day? Mush bugs in their mouth for their starving babies? Feed the ever-hungry infants that want nothing but food, food, food all day long.

What about teaching their children to fly? Do those instant-gratifying, feathered beings have the guts to kick their offspring out of the nest in a couple of months? This is not pansy, scaredy cat stuff we're talking about here, folks. Imagine teaching your children to walk by tossing them into oncoming New York traffic, hoping they make it across the street.

Of great concern is our virgin puppy, Daisy. What if she sees those punks mating out the window? What impression will it make upon her innocent, childish mind? We have gone out of our way to keep her unspoiled from the shadow side of wild life. All of our protection could be for nothing if she catches on to what is happening IN HER VERY FRONT YARD! A life of ruin and turmoil will surely follow after her mind is split open by bird coupling.

What is a tree owner to do in these times of trouble?

If you have any ideas as to how to handle my predicament, please, please, let me know.

Until then, I will continue on as the proper author that I am.

Heather Leigh,
Owner of a porn branch