In the case of being redundant . . . Hello, my friends, hello.

In April 2022, I posted part of the story of the ischemic stroke I had in September 2021. My intention was to finally start blogging again, despite the fact that my left hand wouldn't cooperate anymore when it came to typing. I was determined to recover. Then a couple of months after my "reentry" in the blogosphere, I got Covid again. This time, it attacked the scar tissue in my brain (from the stroke), causing a seizure. I thought I was having anoher stroke and it scared my husband, Bill, who called 911. 

On the way to the hospital, I had a second seizure. This time, I aspirated. When I woke up, I was in critical condition in ICU on life support. Since my husband and I both were recovering from our second bout with Covid-19, he was not permitted to come to the hospital to see me. I cannot imagine how frightened he must have been and how awful it was for him. My daughters took turns watching me through the window of my ICU room and kept him updated. A friend of my daughter's told me later that my daughter was texting her things like, "This doesn't look good. I don't think she's going to make it." Of everything I went through, for me, that was the worst -- knowing my daughters suffered through that, especially after all they went through following my stroke.

AHN Wexford July 1, 2022

After recovering, I ended up back in the hospital a few weeks later  in serious condition following a reaction to the second seizure medicine they prescribed. The first one caused a psychotic breakdown and I was dangerously close to suicide. With the second, I had profuse diarrhea and vomiting for 46 hours before I finally went to the hospital for a three-day stay, where I received 9 liters of fluid and discovered I had acute kidney damage. 

The third seizure medicine was tolerable, but seemed to reactivate many of my stroke-related deficiencies, which led to much frustration and depression. And, of course, I lost my driving privileges.

What a ride it's been. 

But it's all behind me now. Through the grace of God, and a whole lot of blood, sweat, and tears, I'm back. I've recovered the use of my left hand, and am typing again and my brain seems to be functioning normally (or as normal as my brain has ever functioned!). I prayed hard for God to calm the wind, as Jesus did when the disciples were frightened by the storm on the sea. My storm was the effects of the stroke, particularly the use of my left hand. Day after day, I'd look at my hand and say, "Jesus, calm the wind." One day, a few months ago, that's exactly what He did. Now it's my responsibility to get back to my disrupted life. I have a new perspective and new appreciation for so many things. And I'm writing again! 

My plan is to complete BEYOND VINEGAR FRIDAYS as quickly as I can and make it available to all of you. The book will include many of the great tips in the first book, but will expand the tips beyond vinegar for more ways to ditch the chemicals without ditching the clean! I hope you'll join me  in my quest as I regain my life and my purpose.

Wishing the best for you always,

Green Grandma

In the words of Neil Diamond, "Hello, my friend, hello.'

 

Hello, my friends. It's been a while. Have you missed me? I've certainly missed you, but I'm hoping to visit with you more frequently in the upcoming weeks and months.

Oh happy day! I could drive again!

On September 5, 2021, I had an ischemic stroke, followed by surgery five days later. It's been seven months now and I'm clawing my way back to as close to who I was before a blood clot hit the right side of my brain. At this point, typing is one of my greatest challenges, so each blog post will take me two-to-three times longer than it used to take me to write. And there will be mistakes . . . I guarantee it, so I'm asking for some grace. I have not recovered the use of the ring finger and pinkie finger on my left hand and my left arm continues to give me trouble. There are cognitive issues as well, but the good news is that I can walk and for the most part, I can take care of my personal needs, although my husband, Bill, often has to help me get dressed (who ever knew that bras would be so darned difficult to put on?!) Bill also has to pay attention to whether or not I have my clothes on the right way and not backwards or inside out.

My life as a writer and editor has taken a back seat to my recovery for now. I have two books on hold for the time being, but hope you'll be lining up for book signings some day in the future. I was working on my book, Beyond Vinegar Fridays, before the stroke and have been working on another book (mostly in my head) called If I'd Known I was Going to Have a Stroke, I Would Have Shaved on Sunday. My plan is to blog some of the book right here, so I hope you'll be interested in getting a glimpse of what life is like following a traumatic brain injury. I'd love to hear some of your own personal stories about this as well, so if you're a fellow stroke survivor or are a caregiver for one, feel free to email me at greengrandma@comcast.net. I'd love to hear from you!

Of course, I don't want to stray completely away from the original purpose of this blog, so I'll also be sharing tips about common sense greener and healthier living, and I'll be featuring guest bloggers and hosting giveaways. So stay tuned. I'll post updates on the Green Grandma Facebook page, so if you're not following that, please do. 

Well, my brain is saying it's done for now. Thanks for stopping by. And if you get the chance, drop a hello in the comments below. Like I said, I've missed you.

Stay safe and well,

The empty sound of school days

Thanks, Pixabay!

School's back in session, or about to be. So how are you doing, mama? Propping your feet up and letting out a big sigh or crying into your hankie in disbelief that time has gone so quickly? It does go quickly, believe me.

My second youngest grandchild started kindergarten today. I watched my daughter's video and choked back tears as I saw this little one boldly climbing the steps of the big yellow school bus. And then she was gone. It reminded me of when my own little ones went off to school for the first time. It's hard letting go of them as they venture out into the world... well, the world of elementary school. It's something those of you who are home schooling miss out on, but for the rest of us, there is a camaraderie, an understanding of how this first day tugs at our heart strings. Don't worry, though. You get over it. 

If you are a SAHM, there is a void at first. What do you do with your time?? You can clean. You can do laundry. You can lunch with friends. You can nap. You can watch adult television. Oh, the things you can do. But first, you have to dry your eyes and figure it out. Day by day. Hour by hour.

And then there are those of you who wish their kiddos were just starting kindergarten. Your kiddos aren't exactly kiddos anymore. They're adult teens (oh the horror!) and you've packed them up and settled them into a dorm room -- it's a bit scarier than the big yellow school bus. Really. It is. 

Again, you have to figure out what to do with your time. No more rushing out for ball games or track meets. No more watching the clock to see if they make it home before curfew. 

Time. It goes so quickly, yet often just crawls along. For those missing their kids at college, have you started a countdown already for Thanksgiving break? Or will they be back for homecoming? Or are they so far away, they won't be home until the end of the year? That's at least a two-hankie cry. 

Take comfort, mama, in the universality of this time in your life. Others have gone before you *and survived* and others will follow. 

In the meantime, for those of you with adult teens (at college or otherwise), I highly recommend checking out Deanne Persinger's blogpost: Nobody Talks About This Stage From Hell. Grab a cup of coffee or tea or a glass of wine and commiserate. It'll be worth it. I promise.

Whether it's just for several hours a day or long term, enjoy the empty nest while you can. Solitude can be good for the soul.

The light that shone in the darkness

One thing 2021 taught my husband and me is that people really are kind. And they care. And they bring light.

If you read my posts the past two days, you know that my husband and I faced a really rough year so far. There were times, I didn't know if he'd make it. There were times, I honestly didn't care if I made it or not. In the darkest of those times, people shone light into our home and our hearts. Kindness.

During our three-week nightmare with Covid-19, meals, medications, soup, violets, and even a bag of tangerines were placed in our front entryway. Some were from family members and neighbors. Some from church friends. Some from people we hardly knew. These gestures were light to us, my friends. Hope.

From that time and beyond, there were text messages and phone calls, cards and notes, flowers... concern, caring, and love. Light. 

Others shed tears for us/with us. Some made us laugh. Shelter.

After Covid, when it was safe to be together again, there were visits. People came and spent time with my husband so I could get a break. That probably meant the most to me, because as someone who values her alone time, their visits helped me to breathe again. Air.

When I'd share my heart on Facebook, so many responded. So many. And that, too, meant the world to me. It helped me to not feel as isolated. I read the messages to my husband. Sometimes he would cry. Other times he would smile. Every time, he felt a little less alone in his suffering. Community.

During the month of May, I started to lose hope. I vacillated in my faith. I could no longer pray. Life was a burden and I saw little sense in it all. My purpose, other than caring for my husband, was gone and my routine was drudgery. Despite all of the light, I chose to focus on the darkness. It was an awful time during which I no longer recognized myself. Not only was the husband I knew gone, but I was gone, too. I felt empty. I had nothing left to give. I simply went through the motions. Bitterness.

Coming out on the other side, I've learned many lessons. One of them was an old lesson I'd learned over 30 years ago after my first husband died. It seems that sometimes all that God requires of us is that we endure. In the book of James, Chapter 1, verses 2-4 (NASB), he writes, "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have it's perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." Endurance.

It's August now. Those awful months are behind us. Next week, we'll celebrate our anniversary and it will have new meaning. The bitterness is gone and we have so much to celebrate. For one thing, we endured. Others shone light for us through the tunneled darkness and we came out on the other side. To me, there's only one word for that: Miracle.

Thank you to all the light carriers out there. What you do means the world to someone, even if you don't know it. And sometimes that light comes disguised as a simple bag of tangerines.

Now stay tuned next week and beyond for news and tips and giveaways! Green Grandma's back and she couldn't be happier!

And the 2021 story continues...

Thanks for coming back to read the rest of the story. Click here to read the first part.

On May 12th, my husband went into the hospital for outpatient inguinal hernia surgery. As I said yesterday, this was the good ol' fashioned cut-him-open type. The surgeon found a congenital hernia larger than expected. Subsequently, my husband bled more than expected. They finished, closed him up, and 3 hours later, sent him on his way with instructions to have someone (me) with him for the next 24 to 48 hours. They didn't issue any warnings about dehydration or being light-headed. They didn't tell me not to leave his side. As it was, he was feeling good by the time we got home. We had lunch and then, since it had been an early day, I went upstairs to take a quick nap after he settled onto the couch to watch some TV. A couple of hours later (my nap took longer than planned), I awoke to hear a horrible crash. I jumped up and ran to the top of the stairs, yelling his name. No answer. I bolted down the steps and turned left. That's when I discovered my husband sprawled across the ceramic bathroom floor. His eyes were wide-open and he was completely unresponsive. I screamed his name over and over and then ran for the phone. The voice on the other end of the 911 call let me know they were experiencing higher than normal call volume. No! No, no no! I continued to try to rouse my husband to no avail. Let's face it. At this point I thought... no, I knew, he was dead. After about 3 minutes or so, the operator came on the phone and said, "911. What is your emergency?" 

At the same time, my husband did something... I don't remember what it was exactly... that let me know he was still alive. I was almost incoherent as I practically yelled into the receiver, "My husband's had a massive stroke." After all, if he wasn't dead, a stroke was the only answer. His eyes were still wide open and he still wasn't moving. Those moments were right up there with the worst moments of my life. The absolute worse. The PTSD over my first husband's death in 1989 washed over me and I was hysterical. The 911 operator kept trying to calm me down so she could understand what I was saying. 

Finally, my husband started to come to. He asked me who I was talking to and wondered why I would call 911. He did not want an ambulance. Too bad. It was on its way. 

By the time the EMTs arrived, my husband was sitting up. They helped him to his feet and walked him to a dining room chair where he sat and answered questions. Despite his resistance, we were able to talk him into heading back to the hospital, where he stayed for two nights. Of course, my thoughts were that if they'd admitted him to begin with, none of this would have happened, right? Tests revealed he was not only anemic from the loss of blood, but he was also dehydrated. Dehydrated! Again, my thoughts were that they never should have sent him home without hydrating him after surgery. He is in his 70s and has a heart condition. Plus he was suffering from post-Covid. He should have been admitted for observation following the surgery. Thank you, insurance companies.

Naturally, when he collapsed, he did damage to the surgical site. While the bleeding didn't start right away, it did start a couple of weeks later and lasted 7 weeks! That's right. We dealt with 7 weeks of dressing changes, trips to the ER, another overnight hospital stay, and multiple visits with the surgeon. A CT scan revealed that the bleeding was deeper than they thought. 

In the midst of this, his PMR (polymyalgia rheumatica), brought on by Covid-19 in February, continued to worsen. No one had answers for us. By the time we saw the rheumatologist in June, my husband had lost the ability to care for himself and I became a full-time caregiver. I went from running a team of caregivers for Dignity Home Care Professionals to being a care provider. And let me tell you, I do a much better job of being the boss than actually doing the dirty work. At times, my husband was so bad, he couldn't even feed himself. His dignity was gone. My hope was gone. We both were served a major dose of depression. 

One day, I remember looking at his frail body (he'd lost a lot of weight and his muscle tone was nearly gone) as he sat in the recliner, his too-large sweatshirt crooked on his shoulders, and I thought, "When did my husband turn into a 90-year-old man?" I wept with the realization that my marriage, as I'd known it, was over. It was despair as I'd never experienced... the darkest of times.

Fast forward to today. Light came again, first from a doctor who had a diagnosis and treatment plan. Then from the eventual healing of the surgical wound. I have my husband back again.

Thirty years ago, the two of us eloped. We were blending families and found it easier to just skip a wedding and go off and get married. But after all we'd been this year, we decided to go ahead and have that wedding this month, surrounded by friends and family. The plans were in action, the invitations sent. And then the Delta variant started taking over and infecting so.many.people -- vaccinated and unvaccinated. So, realizing it would be selfish on our part to gather a bunch of people together to celebrate with us, we canceled the wedding. Another blow. Another reason for tears. 

On August 18th, the two of us will celebrate the miracle of thirty years together anyway. And that weekend, our kids and grandkids will join us for a small garden party to celebrate as a family. 

And Green Grandma is committed to not using any disposables for the party. As you can see, some things never change. 

Thank you for reading and caring. Tomorrow, I'll share some lessons we've gleaned from this dark, dark time in our lives. Lessons about where to find the light.

P.S. The photo above is of the place my husband collapsed. Two things saved him from breaking his nose, losing some teeth, and/or having a serious head injury. One, based on the HUGE bruise that developed on his side, he obviously hit the doorknob of the bathroom door on his way down, slowing the momentum. It took us a few days to figure that one out. And two, see that rounded shelf in the corner? He must have hit the bottom shelf with his face before it hit the floor. The bruises on the left side of his face confirmed that. Placement of furniture is everything, right? Well, maybe not, but I sure am thankful for that little white shelf!

I'm back! And do I have a story to tell you...

 

Hello again.

It's been a long time since I've posted anything. But I'm hoping that will change and I'll be providing you with lots of helpful info, great giveaways, and pieces of my heart. The latter is what I want to address today.

What a year it's been. Last I "spoke" with you, I was running a senior in-home care company and was simply too busy to blog on a regular basis. Well, that changed. In December of 2020, the owner and I decided it was time to close our business for good. Let's just say the pandemic wore us out. It wasn't that we didn't have clients... we did. We just couldn't find employees to fill the shifts. By the time we were done, we had an 85% no-show rate for interviews. It was beyond discouraging. 

January rolled around and, honestly, it was a really good month. I was enjoying having time off and not being on call 24/7, as I had been for the previous 4 years. Life was good. 

And then... Covid. My husband started getting sick on February 1st. I kept telling him it wasn't Covid. Then my eyes began to burn. And my glutes ached big-time. He had chills and couldn't get warm. His head hurt. Five days later, he woke up with no sense of smell or taste. We knew then, and a rapid test confirmed our self-diagnosis. For 3 weeks, we suffered. Covid morphs into something new nearly every day when you're in the midst of it. Anyone else out there know what I'm talking about? For me, I experienced the gastrointestinal version over everything else. For a good 10 days or so, I felt like I was in labor, yet no delivery of a baby came along as relief. It.was.hell.

Even though I'm asthmatic and diabetic, the virus never took root in my lungs, so I was able to stay out of the hospital. I credit that with the 10,000 IUs of Vitamin D I was taking for months, hoping to ward off this insidious disease. It didn't prevent me from getting Covid, but I do believe it kept it out of my lungs. I coughed from time to time and I watched my pulse ox readings faithfully, but like I said, I was never hospitalized. 

Eating was something I forced myself to do. It's hard to want to put food in your body when you can't even taste it and you know it's going to send you right back into the bathroom for another round of "let's pretend we're having a baby." I lost 20 pounds that month. Unfortunately, once the appetite returned, so did the weight. It was nice while it lasted. By the end of February, it was over... for the most part. Today, I'm still feeling the effects of the brain fog it brought my way. I search for words, say the wrong ones, and lose my train of thought in an instant. And I suffer from night sweats, so my sleep is always disturbed. But at least I can breathe and I don't seem to have any other symptoms many of the long-haulers have.

My husband, on the other hand, did not fare so well. A couple of weeks after our "recovery," he started to experience some pretty brutal pain. It started in his shoulders, then his hips, his thighs, down his arms, and eventually attacked his hands... so much so that he lost the use of them at times. This continued until the beginning of June when we finally found a doctor with answers. Up until then, we simply heard the same thing: "It's post-Covid and we really don't know what to do about it." That day, we had a name for his pain: polymyalgia rheumatica or PMR for short. And there was hope. But there was another issue to deal with.

As if the pain wasn't enough, he also had to go into the hospital for a scheduled inguinal hernia operation. Since he is a heart patient, he couldn't have laparoscopic surgery. Nope. They had to cut him open. And that's when the new problem began. 

Stop on back tomorrow for part 2 of story of 2021. It gets worse before it gets better. But it does get better.

Sharing my story,

And the moral of the story is...

It's a beautiful day in Western Pennsylvania. Mid-70s with a slight breeze and plenty of sunshine. 

I stopped at Marshall's this morning to buy a gift card for an employee who won the summer contest we hosted at Dignity Home Care Professionals. As I left with my gift card secured in my purse and my mask secured over my nose and mouth (as it should be, right?) 😷, I lowered my sunglasses over my eyes and walked out into the plaza. 😎 My mood was nearing a 10, since doing for others always makes me feel good and I'm really happy about awarding this prize to our employee. 

A stout woman, probably in her 50s, approached me and said, "Congratulations!" I could hear the smile behind her mask.

"Excuse me?" I said.

She mustered up even more enthusiasm and repeated, "Congratulations!"

"For what?"

She nearly cooed. "You're having a baby!" 🤰

Behind my dark glasses and dark mask, she could not see my wrinkled expression as I said, "No, I'm not."

Dejected, she simply said, "Oh," and walked away. No apology. No embarrassment. No "Just kidding!" Nothing.

My 10 mood plummeted as quickly as I walked to my car. Am I really that fat? I wondered. 

As I backed out of my parking space, I picked up the phone and called my best friend of nearly 60 years. 

After she recovered from hearing my story, she said, "But you're so skinny."

Moral of the story: We all need friends like Dawn. BFF. No doubt about it.

My Favorite Things -- A good night's sleep

Let's face it. A good night's sleep is worth its weight in gold, right? For you new moms (and some seasoned ones), it's not happening no matter what you try. But for the rest of us, I want to recommend a product that I've found to be extremely helpful in achieving some much needed rest. 

I received my first bottle of Calm Mood Mist by Cardea AuSet in the spring CAUSEBOX and immediately was sold. I spritzed it on my sheets and pillow that night and for the first time in a long time, I fell into a sound sleep that lasted throughout the night. My mind quieted and I rediscovered the bliss of rest.


I must admit, I'm not a big fan of the smell of lavender. It's just not a favorite for me. But the blending of lavender, bergamot, and frankincense is a winner. I spritz, inhale, and sleep. 

As my bottle started to run low (since I use it every night), I decided to order some more and found the price to be a bit high ($30/2 oz.). However, with some googling, I managed to score a better deal on eBay and bought two bottles for $40. That will last me a while. My husband scoffed at the cost, but when I asked him what price is too high for a restful night's sleep, he didn't have an answer. 

With safe ingredients and proven results, Calm Mood Mist by Cardea AuSet deserves a spot on My Favorite Things list. Thanks, CAUSEBOX for the introduction!

Let me know if you give it a try. And no, this is not a sponsored post. Just my honest opinion.

To Mask or Not To Mask... That is the Question

It's been a heavy time across our nation and world. I haven't shared my words with you since the beginning of April when we were a few weeks into a pandemic in the states and stay-at-home orders were in place here in Pittsburgh. The world had changed.

It's been a challenging time, as I continued to work as Operations Manager of Dignity Home Care Professionals, a senior in-home care company in Pittsburgh. My job was deemed essential so I continued on with the day-to-day business of providing caregivers to families in need. Sometimes, I ventured in to my lonely office in Bellevue and other times, I forwarded the phones and worked from home. We lost some clients (none from COVID-19) and we gained new ones. We kept our employees busy and we added new faces to the team. My heroes... those willing to brave the risk and offer their care to housebound elderly clients. 

It's been a sad time. The murder of George Floyd caused more than just rage and protest. It caused a deep sadness inside of me. It also awakened a need in me to push aside my comfortable silence and to speak out. I undoubtedly lost friends in the process, but that's okay. If you are a racist, you don't deserve my friendship. Not at all.

It's also been an infuriating and frustrating time. And this is the focus of this post: to mask or not to mask. It really shouldn't be a question. I continually hide 'friends' from my Facebook feed over this issue... those proudly proclaiming their "constitutional right" not to cover their faces. GIVE ME A BREAK! Those who take this stand continue to hide behind their excuses of "liberty." Sadly, most of the ones I've heard bemoan the masks also proclaim their status as "Christians." Again, give me a break. Where, pray tell, in Scripture does it instruct us to hold our rights and liberty above the good of others? Where? Show it to me. 

No, rather, the Apostle Paul wrote in his letter to the church at Philippi: 

"Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." (Phillipians 2:3-4 NASB)

Let me paraphrase: 

"Do nothing from selfishness or a desire for your own liberty, but humble yourself, realizing that you could be an asymptomatic carrier of COVID-19, which puts others at risk for a disease that, while it may be mild, could also KILL that person or cause lifelong problems for them."

As Christians, and, yes, I count myself as a devout follower of Christ, we have a moral obligation to do what we can to protect others from harm. Whether that means standing up for the rights of people of other races, seeking justice, socially distancing ourselves, fighting against the evils of Bayer/Monsanto and other companies who are poisoning us, or wearing a danged mask while in public and honoring the request of businesses and churches who ask this of us, that's what we have to do. It is NOT about liberty and constitutional rights... it's about kindness. It's "regarding one another as more important" than ourselves.

And for those of you buying into the myth of the dangers of breathing in your own CO2, read up on the facts. You would have to breathe in extremely high levels of the gas... more than say, a surgeon or their surgical team who are masked for hours during an operation -- how would you feel as a patient if they decided it was their "right" not to wear a mask?

I, personally, hate wearing masks. But, because I care about you, you better believe I'll be donning mine. I can only hope you care enough about me to do the same.

Sharing my heart,

My Favorite Things -- The View

This is my second post in a new series featuring things I love -- my favorite things. Today's is a bit odd. It's not about a product, but about a place. My work office. This is the view outside my window when I'm seated at my desk. I love watching as the world goes by.

Usually, it's bustling with activity. Busy Lincoln Avenue in Bellevue boasts restaurants, a brewery, pharmacy, doctors' offices, insurance and law offices, variety shops, and more. Sadly, we lost a once-thriving flower shop (of which my office sits above), a children's theater company, and Happy Baby Company, which let go of their brick and mortar space months ago (but you can still shop online here and I highly recommend it).

Today, there are fewer cars and next to no pedestrians. The ones passing by are often donning masks. It is a strange sight indeed.


While many of you are quarantined in your homes, I am here in my office watching less of the world pass by and feeling an isolation of my own. As Operations Manager of Dignity Home Care Professionals, I have to work. It is essential. Yes, I can do almost all of my work from home, but I often discover the need for a file or info I can't access there. So I come in to my office, sensing an incredible emptiness here. For the past several weeks, I'm the only one working here. I miss the other voices. The looks we exchange. The feel of our office dog crawling onto my lap. 


I am being vigilant about sanitizing, wearing gloves while retrieving and opening the mail, and washing, washing, washing my hands. At times, I've had to go to peoples' homes and be in the presence of our precious elderly clients. My fear, of course, is not that I'll catch something from them. No, my greatest fear is that I, or one of our team of caregivers, will carry the virus (you know the one I'm talking about) into them. It's the stuff nightmares are made of, and believe me, I've been losing sleep over it.

And I, am only one. Only one person managing a team on the front lines. I'm mostly cocooned in my office or my home while they, my team of heroes, ventures out to care for those who cannot care for themselves. At night, when I cannot sleep, I pray for them. And for the other managers trying to navigate this new world of home care amidst daily fear that the virus will reach their people. Once competitors, now comrades in a battle against an invisible enemy.

Yes, this is my view and I love it. But I long for the day when the hustle and bustle returns and the noise rises to my window and Petey, the office pup, comes running through the door and onto to my lap. 

My favorite things . . . an office I love, a view that will be fluid again someday . . . soon.

Greg Landry Homeschool to the Rescue!

This post is sponsored by College Prep Science. 

Now, more than ever, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, homeschooling has been front and center. Whether it's been thrust upon unprepared parents trying to navigate working from home while overseeing the education of their children, or a shifting of focus for those parents already educating their kids at home who no longer can be part of the homeschooling network they've relied upon for years, due to social distancing. 

Greg Landry homeschool has pioneered science classes and labs for homeschooling families. He offers online classes (for science leaning students and “non-science” students), science labs, ACT prep, homeschool student-produced print publications, and a podcast for homeschool moms. He has a heart for students and a passion for science... but more specifically a passion for teaching students to see God's hand in every aspect of His creation that surrounds us. His goal is to help them see that God's creation didn't just happen by chance - it wasn't an accident, a fluke of nature.

Greg Landry has spent the past 20+ years teaching science. He taught at a university, taught thousands of homeschooled students, has mentored students planning to pursue science/pre-med degrees, has designed and directed a university anatomy and physiology/biology/cadaver lab, has published and presented scientific research, has academically counseled hundreds of college pre-professional (pre-med, pre-dental, pre-physical therapy, etc.) sophomores and juniors, has designed science labs for homeschooled students and has written science lab manuals. Ten years ago he originated the "pre" classes (Pre-Biology, Pre-Anatomy & Physiology, Pre-Chemistry, and Pre-Physics) as a means of minimizing the intimidation of high school level science and preparing middle school age students for specific high school level classes. As one homeschool mom described it, "Greg has a unique ability to pull out the most important information and present it in a way that's interesting and easy to understand." 

The thrust of Greg Landry homeschool science is to give homeschooled students access to Christian Worldview science that is focused on scientific inquiry, critical thinking, process reasoning, data collection, and the graphical and written representation of research. Greg says, "We want to prepare competent, confident students for their remaining high school years, their college years, and life. 

Greg and his wife live near Nashville, TN. His desire is to follow the Lord's leading in teaching students to illuminate the incredible creation the Lord has put all around us. It reveals His glory! ​Homeschool dad, scientist, and former college professor, Greg Landry, offers live, online homeschool science classes, Homeschool ACT Prep Bootcamp, the Homeschool Mom’s Science Podcast, in-person two-day science lab intensives nationwide, freebies for homeschool moms, and student-produced homeschool print publications.

Snippets from my life -- Waiting

September 1989

Photo by Linnaea Mallette

Pushing aside the gauze curtains, I glanced out the back window and watched as my seven-year-old shuffled down the driveway. She reached the street, looking to her left and then to her right, waiting for her friend to come and play with her, to distract her, to make her forget for a while.

I don't think she heard me approaching as she sat cross-legged at the end of the driveway. I assumed her position and we sat quietly for a while, side-by-side. We were both waiting. The nightmare that had begun two short endless days ago was ever present. My husband, her daddy, was gone and tonight we had to go to a service where he would be eulogized.

"Did Daddy have on his old shoes?" Her question disrupted my thoughts. 

"What?" I asked. 

She repeated the question. 

"What do you mean, Bethany?"

"Well, if Daddy had on his new tennis shoes, he could have run faster and gotten away from the fire."

I didn't know what to say. I, too, wanted answers. 

Again, Bethany spoke. "I wish he would've worn his new shoes."

I still had no words for her. We went back to waiting, side-by-side. She was waiting for her friend. I was waiting, hoping, praying for the alarm clock to ring and for my husband to say, "Hana, it's time to get up."

My Favorite Things -- Silver Lozenges with Manuka Honey

I decided to start a new feature on GG: It's called My Favorite Things and will feature products I love. With a variety of infectious viruses on everyone's mind, I thought this week would be a good week to feature Silver Biotics® Silver Lozenges. They're made with 60 ppm SilverSol® and manuka honey. 

I've been a long-time lover of silver and its healing benefits. And ever since I was introduced to Multi-Healing Balm (which, sadly, is no longer available), I've been a believer in the miracle of manuka. So when I discovered these dandy little lozenges, I snatched them up. 

They're great to take at the first sign of a cold or sore throat. But I take one a day to ward off any sickness. They're made with organic ingredients and Silver Biotics patented nano-silver technology, raw New Zealand manuka honey, and cooling mint. A perfect combination. And they taste great!

Concerned about the influenza, pneumonia, or bronchitis? It goes without saying, although everyone is saying it, wash your hands. Often. And do the 20 second thing. And suck on some Silver Biotics Silver Lozenges to boost your immune system. They're even on sale right now (3/10/2020) at The Vitamin Shoppe. I just ordered 3 more bags!

And there you have the multiple reasons Silver Biotics Silver Lozenges made My Favorite Things list. And, no, this is not a sponsored post. Just my honest opinion.

Carry on and stay well.

Observe Chimps in the Wild—Without a Passport!

I don't want to brag, but I have some really cool writer friends. They're part of my tribe and I love hearing about their projects and celebrating their success with them. Today's guest post is by Dana Colecchia Getz, one of the fine writers in my monthly writing group, Writers at Work. She was asked to attend a program put on by Project Chimps and kindly agreed to write a blog post for me. I thought the GG community would enjoy learning more.

Crystal Alba/Project Chimps

For years, chimpanzees were used in invasive experimentation. Studies ranged from crash tests to HIV testing. Some chimps, like Hercules and Leo, spent their days forced to unnaturally walk upright with electrodes embedded into their muscles. 

Now Hercules, Leo, and 79 other chimpanzees formerly living in research labs are able to spend their days foraging, climbing, and playing in a natural, 236-acre forested setting. Project Chimps, a chimpanzee sanctuary set in the Georgian Blue Ridge Mountains, has become their forever home. 2015 marked the end of invasive experimentation on chimpanzees in the United States leaving chimps living in private research facilities with no place to go. Project Chimps stepped in to help by slowly transferring the primates to their sanctuary in 2016, with the goal of eventually housing 200 chimpanzees. 

Crystal Alba/Project Chimps

As they continue expanding the habitat for more chimps, they are broadening opportunities for humans as well. Although not generally open to the public, Project Chimps offers a variety of tours and volunteer-based ecotourism for animal and nature lovers of all ages. With the insight of a trained guide throughout the experiences, visitors are able to observe the chimps from platforms and windowed sections of wall along the perimeter of the habitat. It is important to remember, however, that unlike a zoo, the animals are free to explore as they want, which means visitors on a short tour cannot be guaranteed a sighting—although that is rare. According to Project Chimps director Ali Crumpaker, “They are not on exhibit. They are not there for your entertainment. We tell people all of the time—you are putting on the parade. You are part of the show. You are bringing something to them and if they are interested in what you bring to the environment, they will come and watch you.”

The goal of the sanctuary is to create a “fission-fusion society” where the physical environment supports their transition from lab to a more natural setting. In most labs, the chimpanzees were separated by age and gender. Here, for the first time, they can choose how they spend their day and with whom they interact. Visitors and volunteers have the unique opportunity to observe them as they navigate these new social structures as they would in the wild. 

If you are looking for a socially-conscious trip, consider visiting Project Chimps.They are certified by the Global Federation of Sanctuaries, ensuring the highest standards of animal care are upheld. Located only two hours outside of Atlanta, their tours offer a unique opportunity within the United States that many would be unable to experience otherwise. 

“You don’t need a passport, or a visa, or an expensive plane trip to go experience some creatures that are so close to us in a way that enriches the chimpanzees’ lives and educates the humans’ lives all at the same time,” explained Crumpaker.

Project Chimps

Project Chimps Ecotourism/Voluntourism Opportunities

Family-friendly Experiences: 

Discovery Days, Chimps Rock! and Chimp-or-Treat. (Plan ahead for Discovery Days, as they sell out months in advance.)

Volunteer Vacations: 

Chimpcation- a week long voluntourism opportunity better suited to adults and older kids who can be more actively involved.  

Spring Brachiate- an alternative spring break program, for college kids.

One-Day Experiences:

Full-day photography workshop 

AirBnb Experiences- 2 hour guided tour or tour with introduction to beekeeping

Dana Colecchia Getz is a Pittsburgh-based freelance writer specializing in travel, parenting, and social change. She is the recipient of a regional Jefferson Award for Public Service for her work as the founder of KnitHope, a grassroots craftivism project. Her writing has appeared in numerous publications including The Christian Science Monitor, Go World Travel, Livability.com, The Sunlight Press and Mamalode. You can follow her musings on Twitter @DanaCGetz.

Dinosaur Adventure -- The Dinosaurs Have Come and Gone

Disclosure: This is a sponsored post. I received tickets to Dinosaur Adventure in exchange for this honest review.

Last weekend, we treated one of our grandchildren with an adventure... a dinosaur adventure. The middle of five grandchildren, Miss M has been obsessed with dinosaurs for most of her short life. We hosted a dinosaur party for her 5th birthday, complete with a dinosaur egg hunt, pin the tail on the dinosaur, and a visit from Polly the paleontologist. The next year, my husband and I took Miss M to DuBois, PA for a weekend that included a visit to Doolittle's where they've set up an impressive display of life-sized animatronic dinosaurs in a huge warehouse. Our delighted granddaughter had the opportunity to get up close and personal with the dinosaurs, dig for fossils, and ride a dinosaur, all for the at-that-time price of $3!

For Christmas, we gifted her with another visit to see dinosaurs; this time right outside of Pittsburgh at the Monroeville Convention Center. The traveling show, Dinosaur Adventure, was in town for 3 days and Miss M was once again delighted. She wanted to take her sisters along, but one of them was sick, so just her older sister joined us for the experience. The ticket prices ranged between $20 and $55. For the higher amount, you could ride all the rides and do all the activities.

The kids had a lot of fun and that is what mattered most. But to be honest, there were things I wasn't too impressed with. For instance, some of the dinosaurs weren't in the best of conditions, with rips in them and poor construction that gave everyone a glimpse into the wiring. Often the joints just weren't put together too well. 




The rides were unique, with Jurassic jeeps, walking ride-on-dinosaurs, and dinosaurs that raced around a track. I appreciated the disposable caps the kids put on their heads before donning helmets for the rides, thus preventing the spread of head lice, but it was incredibly wasteful. Rather, I think each child should have received a cap with their arm bands and worn the same one with each ride. Of course, we were able to think to hold on to the caps, but most people wouldn't have considered it.

There were only 2 jeeps, which meant LONG lines to ride them. We opted not to wait. We did, however wait for over 30 minutes for Miss M to ride the very cute "walking" dinosaurs. I'd never seen a ride like it and thought it looked like a lot of fun.

The kids spent quite a bit of time in the inflatable maze and slides, but I was appalled by the lack of supervision there. The sign clearly stated that everyone had to wear socks and had to be taller than or shorter than the measurement posted. However, there were toddlers, kids carrying infants, barefoot kids, older (thus taller than allowed) kids, and basically total chaos. There was an attendant present, but he just sat on a chair and looked at his phone. Like I said, I was appalled.

The shows were fair and no times were posted, so we waited a few times and eventually left because nothing happened. We did catch two of the "performances" however, and were not impressed.

One thing that did impress me was the huge walking dinosaur that came out and interacted with the guests. He patiently posed for pictures with anyone who wanted one. There were also a couple of baby dinosaur puppets expertly operated by their handlers as they walked through the crowd, allowing the children to pet the dinosaurs. But you had to watch out -- they were biters!



Miss M has a problem with gluten, so there wasn't anything for her to eat in the concession stand. Even the fries were coated with breading of some sort. That was disappointing. I didn't think to take snacks with us.

As I said, the kids had fun. They wouldn't pick up on the things I was critical of. But after being at Doolittle's in DuBois, I did have something to compare Dinosaur Adventure to and I wasn't impressed. If you're able to get to DuBois, I recommend you give it a try.





Here are some more highlights that kept a smile on Miss M's face.

Finally, this sign greeted us upon entry and I immediately worried that quality control wasn't a priority for this organization. "Oppurtunity".... Really? Looks like proofreading is going the way of the dinosaurs... it's practically extinct. 

Doolittles

All-in-all, for Miss M's sake, I'm glad we didn't miss this oppOrtunity!