The secret to good health

I signed up for pinterest the other day-coolest site ever! I have an entire board of treehouses!!

(I really had to limit myself to just one pic here, I have so many now!)

(I am a tad worried this could be a blackhole for my freetime)

I was deathly ill the other day. Literally. I have never left work because I was too sick to be there. And I did on Tuesday-at 11 am. (now that I think back, I wonder if illness was just an excuse and I subconsciously just wanted to go home). At the time, I thought I really might die (taking a page out of L's book).  So, I got in bed at 11 am, and got out the next day at 10 am after I was miraculously healed by a beanbag.

Years ago someone in dance company gave these beanbags out-they were to be heated and used to soothe sore muscles. I pull mine out from time to time when I have a severe neck problems (though I have found that O's electric massager is better). Anyways, whenever I pull it out (generally when we are all hanging out watching a show) L and O always whine about the smell. When I heat it up, the beans, or corn, or whatever is in there, smell very strange. Not bad, just odd. In fact, it smells just like petrified corn or a museum burning down.

So there I was, dying. O gallantly offered to do anything I needed-so I had him heat the beanbag up. (I bet he regretted his nice offer when he realized the beanbag was going to be around all night long) First off, he nearly killed me it was so hot. After wrapping it in several towels, I laid down on top of it and....was instantly much better! I had been consumed by chills and aches (I seriously thought it was flu) but the magical beanbag was amazingly helpful. The next morning I was quite recovered, by no means perfectly healthy, but so much improved as to leave me entirely elated.

So I have shared my secrets to rapid recovery-for Christmas you'll all be getting magic beanbags! (although O is very nervous about me making them here, he wondered if I would need to cook the beans or anything...)

In other news:
O and I drove through a place called Cornish the other day. It was filled with miniature horses, pygmy goats with beards, and those things that are like llamas. It was a strange land.


(this is not technically the farm we saw, but I'm sure it looks just like this in the summer)

These are the Cornish minis. See that human in the background for size comparison

The horses were so teeny, O and I found them just adorable!

(again, we did not actually see this goat, just his twin)


These are just llamas, not the things we saw (I think...)

 (how amusing would it be if I had a few of these?)

Call me Carnot (the t is silent), and an Ode to O

Moving on to a new subject (and away from Peer's strange comments I hope....)

The other day I miffed O by telling several family members that he is messy. He really is not messy, he's a total minimalist and has no stuff (except papers, which he keeps nicely stored away in luggage and tupperwares), I was merely saying that amongst all of his talents, I did not know that cleaning was high on the list.
Everyone has their skills. I am very good at opening doors with antique keys, organizing people into assembly lines to move things, doing the first bit of the worm, cleaning like a wizard (though I don't like that particular talent much), and I am efficient. Perhaps my greatest skill is efficiency. I am extremely efficient. E laughed when I told her-she said she has never thought of me that way before, which is very odd because all day long I think about being a little carnot cycle (a 100% efficient engine! Which is, btw, a fairy tale, a holy grail, as nothing is 100% efficient, it must lose some energy to heat) Anyways, I am crazy efficient. For example, I always walk at a diagonal-because the diagonal is shorter than two straights (see Pythagorean's theorem for the proof).
I hope to name a child Cece (short for Carnot Cycle). (which comes because O assures me I cannot name a child Sophie as we already have two Sophie nieces. I say the more the merrier, particularly when it comes to a favorite character in a fav book Howl's Moving Castle, but O won't see reason, so it will have to be Cece Sunshine I suppose.) At least I can yell "Carnot Cycle!" when she is in trouble :)
O has lots of talents, a few examples include: he is quite a phenomonal Italian soda mixer, excellent at seasoning things, looks great in mullet wigs (which not everyone can pull off), and has a very good dance move where he sort of Discos with both hands while shrinking to the floor.
So I had no idea that O considered cleaning up the house one of his skills. It turns out that he just has not had the time nor the inclination to flaunt that particular gift. I guess seeing other people's skills is not one of my skills. I'll have to work on that! A word to the wise: talk about people's talents, not their deficiencies, and they'll generally respond much better :) 

In other news:
O has gotten a hold of my toothbrush (on accident, believe it or not) once again. I woke up to find it in the shower (where I do not brush my teeth but O certainly does). I started yelling that he had done it again and O was like, 'no way, you wrote your name all over your toothbrush, how could I use it?!?" Good question. I wrote my name all over it, as in on the front, back, handle, top and bottom, though just with a B there because that is all that would fit! and it was pink! and O's was blue! Upon closer examination the writing had started to rub off, it was now etsy's toothbrush. I suppose that was where the confusion came in. O must have thought it was fair game as there is no esty living here :)
So I now have  a purple toothbrush and O has a green one. Of course mine is hidden so hopefully the color code will never need to be used. Keeping track of his toothbrush is not O's greatest skill :) On the flip side, he is rather laid back about germs, which is something I don't even dream of being :)

update:
I wrote this toothbrush post last week. The next morning, I awoke to find a terrible surprise-my toothbrush was sitting in the toothbrush holder! As you may recall, I have been hiding my toothbrush, not placing it in the holder. So, when I also found it to be wet, I was rather suspicious. I shot off several menacing texts to O (he was out playing football), threw away my 2 day old toothbrush, and found a new one. I'm back to pink and this time I have written threats on the toothbrush, not just my name. Unfortunately, as I have terrible penmanship and a very small writing space, very few words are legible. However, the 'STOP' and 'DON'T TOUCH ME' appear to be perfectly clear. The toothbrush problem is turning into an expensive dilemma. (spelled correctly Mom :)     )