I am known far and wide (in my own family) for my potato salad. True. Megan said she didn’t like anyone else’s, but she tried one bite of mine and loves it. Lori agreed. What a recommendation! I argued long with my oldest son to be able to serve it on Mother’ Day, and he only conceded when I promised I’d share my recipe. In full disclosure, I admit everyone over 13 loves it. Don’t ask the littles.
If you carved your own headstone, what would you etch for eternity to see? I think taking inventory on a regular basis constitutes good mental hygiene. Here’s what I hope I am known for:
- smiling with grandchildren
- super good waffles with sleepovers
- friendship with peers
- service for God
- being a camper at heart
- ever a mama bear
- best potato salad known to modern man
Printing this list and taping it to a mirror offers me a daily reminder of what’s important to me. A Calvinist might consider my barometer shallow, but I freely admit that being a human being isn’t easy. Some days I aspire to just this much. No more. I leave perfection to those better than I.
And my potato salad? Perhaps it’s time to spill the proverbial beans, or potatoes, in this case. You can find my secret recipe under any Hellman’s label, but I offer it here for my oldest son, who I am sure never reads my blog. Megan, don’t you dare write it down and give it to him!
- 5 pounds red potatoes, boiled and chopped with skins intact
- one onion, chopped
- six hard-boiled eggs, chopped
- 1 cup chopped celery (which Levi won’t eat so I don’t add)
- 1 cup Hellman’s
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 2 tablespoons vinegar
- salt and pepper to taste
I encourage you, dear reader. Take stock. Etch your tombstone onto your mirror (use pen and paper. It’s easier.) Be known for what matters most to you. If you aspire to perfection, go for it. If you, like myself, just celebrate surviving some days, don’t beat yourself up. I think every tombstone ought to tell a story. What’s yours?
Charcoal. The proverbial chunk of coal pressed into a diamond leaves centuries of untold drama in its wake. Now I don’t care if that’s urban legend or gospel. I like it, so I accept it. These days truth depends on what newspaper you read or which commentator you listen to on television, so I feel free to believe anything I want. I believe coal becomes diamonds, and I have no facts to dispute it. I barely survived chemistry. Four times. You have no idea how sad I am to admit that, but it leaves me free to believe the very best about the lowly lump of coal.
What I do know about charcoal, however, excites me. Did you know that charcoal can, all by itself, pull at least a thousand times its weight of impurities from your skin? Charcoal serves as a natural filter, lifting toxins from the aggregate form. In a mask like Cackle Spackle, it lifts oil, dead cells, and debris to clean your pores and make your face squeaky clean. That just plain makes me smile.
You see, take away the jewel-toned packaging. Take away the cute name. Take away the competitive pricing. What remains cleanses, purifies, detoxifies. It is a high quality product. I tried Cackle Spackle, and let me just tell you this: If you are 68 going on 69, you do not need this mask. It lifted dirt, cleansed pores and residual oils. Probably all the residual oils I’d been storing up for a rainy day. Afterwards my skin was D-R-Y. I need a gentler mask. Envy This, a caffeinated mask, hits the spot for me. But masking? The truth is, everyone ought to mask. Yes, that means you!
Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. Naturally I have thoughts on the subject. My own mother died more than thirty years ago, so it’s been a long time since I experienced a mother’s love, a mother’s pride, a mother’s confidence. Wendy’s answer to Peter Pan makes all of us want to be with our mothers, and of course I miss that.
For me, Mother’s Day is more about being that source of support for my children than being recognized as anyone special. Their loving attention all year long is more than enough. I admire my sons. I believe in their potential. I am proud of their accomplishments. I adore the men they’ve become. By extension, I immerse myself in their children and spouses.
I hope to remembered for the good in my life, but its success is measured by the fruit of my labors, my family. Are my children God-fearing? Honest? Productive yet kind? That barometer of success keeps me ever on my toes. My life’s work remains unfinished.
Motherhood is not about conception, because many women serve as mother figures for those around them. It’s about giving that service day in and day out to the God-appointed loved ones who cross our paths. That’s why I’m preparing a feast for my family on Mother’s Day, my day to love on all the kiddos large and small who will be coming home. My slide show somehow leaves out a few munchkins, but the picture depicts the fun we enjoy. Alma, I’ll miss you dreadfully . Rest in peace, my Tall Man. You still occupy a lot of real estate in my heart.
Ray Kroc, a founder of McDonalds, is credited with the phrase “getting the itty-bitty things right,” and establishing a school for flipping burgers. It may be urban legend, but I like the concept. Human nature takes its cue from a constantly degrading universe, and all too often, failure to set goals results in little failures in the things that matter most. That ability to choose to do better and be better rests as the hallmark of being a human being.
Stated another way, “good enough never has been and never will be good enough.” Perfectionism is not a trait anyone who knows me would ascribe as one of my personal qualities. Nevertheless, in some things, I do set lofty goals for myself.
In business, not in housework. In cooking, not in baking. In service, not in play. I believe I can be exceptional in the things that matter most without being consumed by the insane notion that I can be perfect in everything. Be exceptional in the things that matter most to you. Set priorities. Give the things you care about a lion’s share of your attention and effort. See a difference.
In a past season of my life I worked as an RN. Professionalism became a byword in our education and training. It colored my everyday philosophy of life. I wanted to be a professional mother. A professional kind of writer. A professional business owner. And I plan on never retiring from that! Getting the itty-bitty things right, from customer service to working with colleagues forms the basis of my business creed. If this resonates with you, join me! I’d love to work with you! Yes, I’ll be 69 this year, but I can use that life experience to leverage myself into a better life situation. So can you.
Surface. The skin’s surface memorializes a remarkable tale of our life’s adventures in laugh lines, worry lines, and a myriad of “imperfections.” Spending a week in Paris, a city where the surface, the presentation is everything, prompted some introspection.
In everything from food to fashion to architecture, the French care as much about the facade as the function. Grand on a scale beyond measure, the superficial assumes gigantic proportions. And yet, what I loved most about Paris was all that lay underneath. Subtle seasonings. A shower the size of a walk-in closet. The shape of things.
Life is more about what goes on at the cellular level than what we create as a portrait of ourselves on the surface. Keeping it basic. Sustaining health. Being real. That’s what I love about Posh. We talk a lot about “naked face” and achieving a healthy skin that speaks volumes about the state of the body underneath the surface.
Skincare is basic. Cellular. Healthy. Cosmetics are surface, illusory, presentation. The building blocks of healthy, glowing skin include a good facial cleanser, a weekly mask, and moisturizer appropriate for your type of skin. Drink lots of water. Apply sun block. Covering up my life’s journey is the farthest thing from my mind. Being healthy and being real epitomizes my life’s aspirations. Let’s talk…I’ve got you covered, in more ways than one. (See what I did there? LOL.)
How did we slide from shiver to sizzle so quickly? We left for Paris with snow in the forecast and came home to a sauna. Spring simply failed to show up.
This weekend we sweltered through five soccer games. It occurred to me, part way through Saturday, that I own a business with sun block in the moisturizer…and guess who forgot to put it on? You know, it only works when it’s on the skin. I learn that lesson again every year, never expecting it to be hot so soon. I’m a slow learner.
The bottom line is really very simple: the sun is not your friend. I know gals love that glistening golden look, but there’s more than one way to get that glow. Fake it Till You Make It, applied regularly, creates the look safely.
No one thinks melanoma lurks in their future, except me, of course. I grew up in an age when everyone slathered on sun tan lotion and headed to the pool for the day. It was like frying chicken on concrete. I suffered through at least one doozy of a sunburn every year, often two or three. One year I had blisters on top of blisters, and the doctor wanted to hospitalize me. I obviously get checked for skin cancer on a regular basis.
But other women, the ones who don’t think they will ever be diagnosed with skin cancer, need to take the threat seriously. Men have the highest incidence of melanoma as they age, when those years of working out of doors begin to catch up with them. In short, these two products are perfect for everyone this season of the year!
It used to be the norm. Multi-generational families were common, and still are in other countries, especially in Europe. In America we got away from that dynamic and our culture shifted into rugged independence rather than being inter-connected. We accepted teenage rebellion as a norm rather than the disease it truly became, a harbinger of separation and distrust.
Along the way we lost something, something really valuable. Grandparents pass down family history and mores. They reinforce parental values. Blending fosters emotional health and purpose for the grandparents, while it creates a cocoon of support for the littles. My own life was enriched by a grandmother who taught me to knit, by in-laws who taught me frugality, by a mother who taught me perseverance. Parents scurrying off to work and then trying to keep a household running in the evening can’t squeeze it all in between supper and bedtime. Turn to grandparents to fill that missing link.
Owning a business is a great way to keep the fabric intact. Many grandparents babysit, but I suggest turning part of that time into a purposeful, multi-generational endeavor. Littles can help, developing a work ethic as they enjoy time together. Seniors on fixed incomes benefit from all the perks of a side hustle. Of course, I sell Posh–but choose something that fuels your passion. Turn a hobby into income, or join a direct sales network with all the support built into it. The wide world beckons you. Beckon a little to be part of your venture! Everyone wins. (If you wish to join me, go to http://www.madaboutposh.com and click on JOIN. I will contact you asap!)
Surface. The skin’s surface memorializes a remarkable tale of our life’s adventures in laugh lines, worry furrows and a myriad of “imperfections.” Spending two weeks in Paris, a city where the surface, the presentation is everything, prompted some introspection,
Everything from food to fashion to architecture in Paris is all about presentation. Grand on a scale beyond measure, the superficial assumes gigantic proportions. The number of cathedrals and all their grandeur remains masked in looking at the everyday culture. Yet what I loved most about Paris was all that lay underneath and less noticeable. Subtle seasonings, marble slabs, triangular street corners and the shape of things.
Life is more about what goes on at the cellular level than what we create as a portrait on the surface. Keeping it basic and sustaining health, just being real is something I love about Posh. Skincare is basic. Cosmetics are surface, illusory, all about presentation. The building blocks of healthy skin include a good facial cleanser, a mask for detoxing, moisturizer. I’ve got you covered! If you wish to consider the anti-aging products, we have them. But all of Posh is about the naked face. We believe in wearing good skin, being the healthiest and most vibrant you possible. Personally, I use our anti-aging products because I love them, but I also love tracing the journey of my life across my face. It’s okay to be 67. You can find these amazing products on my site at http://www.madaboutposh.com and click on LOOK NATURAL.
Lots of companies these days peddle miracle cures for time’s relentless parade across our faces. Forgive me, but I’m not buying it.
Sun damage plagues me because I grew up in an era when girls smeared themselves with sun tan lotion to prevent burning, and it ended up looking like a fish fry at the pool. Never a sun worshiper, my fair skin nevertheless endured endless sunburns.
Let’s face it. Age is a good thing. Instead of mourning my lost youth, I choose to celebrate life. Assign new meanings to my wrinkles, cherish the memories of each laugh line.
I believe in and sell skin care, because a cleanser, mask, and moisturizer give me a healthy, glowing complexion. But I don’t believe any of my products–or yours–are going to erase time from the portrait of my face. And that’s okay. I am quirky. I hope I’m wise. I am old. I forget things sometimes. I accept help.
This duo is one I recommend in facial care. For fighting free radicals, moisturizing and brightening your face, use Never Grow Up morning and night. Both the serum and cream. Ha! I sell it! You can find it at http://www.madaboutposh.com Click on COLLECTIONS, LOOK NATURAL. That pretty much says it all, doesn’t it?
Heart healthy. What comes to your mind? Diet and exercise, of course. Increasingly however, Americans are taking supplements to ward off heart disease. One of the superheroes in this dialogue is a relatively new compound: CoQ10. The literature abounds with conflicting reports on this miraculous antioxidant. Dividing the huckters from the naysayers, I find truth in moderate research conclusions. Truth: It serves as a valuable adjunct with those taking statin drugs. Also true–research trials remain inconclusive in its benefits for other conditions.
But do I take it? Oh yes. Internally and externally.
You see, I found another startling truth. Interestingly, CoQ10 also boosts production of collagen and elastin, a bonanza in skin care. Here’s the salient point: the molecule is tiny enough to be directly absorbed through the skin! Prize for the Eyes contains CoQ10 as its hero ingredient, so dabbing it around your eyes means you are feeding targeted cells at their most basic level.
This product is lightweight and creamy, never feels greasy, and is a perfect complement in your daily regimen. Apply it under your moisturizer for optimal results.