Let the GF Fall cooking, roasting, baking begin!
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For years I was always cold. In the winter my husband said my hands were inhumanly cold. That he didn't know how something alive could be that cold. I blamed it on my under active thyroid and learned to dress for it by layering. Winter - 4 layers, spring & fall -3 layers and summer 2. Even on the hottest days I was comfortable in 2 tops.
So cold that when our daughter was a baby, to early toddler, I took her temperature several times a week. She always felt fiery hot to me. When she started taking her dolls temps I knew I needed to break the habit.
I have since learned it had more to do with mal-absorption than anything else. The fact that my body temperature always dropped if I was overdue for a meal should have been a clue. But that was missed along with dozens of other clues all along the path. And as my body healed, I got warmer.
Now as we enter the dog days of summer in NYC (earlier than usual) I am warmer than I have been in as long as I can remember.... And, in the market for cooler clothes.
As I stand melting on street corners and subway platforms I remind myself of what it signals and I am happy. Hot and happy!
The movie was on TV the other night, and I watched it for the umpteenth time. It’s in my top 10, possibly top 5. I love the message.... Follow your dream, listen to the voice, stick with what has meaning to you even if others don't understand or think you are a little crazy.
Not only did Ray Kinsella create something magical that drew people to it and that had meaning to many others, but it gave him the opportunity to reconnect with his father whom he had lost years before. I love this movie but I can't watch it without crying.
I was drawn to create this blog (forgive the pun) and it struck me while watching the movie that by documenting my gluten-free journey I feel closer to my mother whom we lost 26 yrs ago. Telling my story has brought about a deep personal journey which sometimes becomes too intense for me. Explains my sporadic writing. Also explains why so many of my own postings make me cry.
I believe in my heart of hearts that my mother had celiac disease, which set the stage for stomach cancer. This blog is an ongoing dedication to my mom who may have had a different fate had she known about celiac disease when she was young. And dedicated to my own health & future that I am building one gluten-free day at a time.
I am building it - and SHE has come.
I started wearing nail polish in the 7th grade. A woman on our street worked for a cosmetic company and gave me dozens of sample bottles. I loved it - another dimension in painting. And I loved the color sparkling at the tips of my fingers. It was not allowed at school so it was my weekend decoration only.
From High School on I was never without nail polish. I had long strong nails and loved the color accent. Most people who knew me had never seen me without it. It was my signature.
About 7 years ago I started noticing problems with my nails... Splitting, cracking, ridges, white spots, and the top layer appeared to be peeling off. My dermatologist diagnosed psoriasis (along with patches on my face and arms) and said there was no cure. Oh - and to stop wearing polish. Two weeks layer my husband proposed and everyone I knew was checking out my ring - and my un-manicured hands.
Flash forward... A year after sticking strictly to my gluten-free diet my nails are all the same length, no spots, no ridges, no cracking, peeling or splitting… As strong as they used to be. (and my skin is clear) I did my nails last night for the first time in years and I feel like that little girl again with color dancing at the tips of my fingers.
Sometimes, it’s the little things…