Tag Archives: Grandma

Taking The Cure

44In 1993 I went to a product seminar about detoxing. Specifically about our need to eliminate waste or poop. It was quite enlightening about the amount of the crap that we tote around. Someone told the old story about John Wayne’s 10 lbs of accumulated waste in his colon at the time of his death. I still shudder to this day imagining that autopsy. Eeeeeewww! Anyway…the speaker went on to talk about the wisdom of children spending adequate time on the potty for a good ‘moving’ experience. Actually I witnessed this at the dentist office a couple of months ago. An 8 year old boy was happily singing to himself in the bathroom which was about 10 feet away from my seat in the waiting area, ignoring calls from his Mom that it was time to see his friend the dentist. The boy kept yelling, “I’m not finished!” His Mom smiled and said, “He likes to take his time.” Good for him! Who wants to hurry to see the dentist anyway. Smart little guy was multi-tasking.

After the seminar I arrived back home with several containers of…I don’t remember…with the belief that when I drank the substance, I would literally poop out and off several pounds of weight. Losing weight is most women’s detox dream, but I now know the real skivvy on the subject. Our bodies continually detox. It’s not a one time event, but part of the body’s highly developed system of balance. A kind of housekeeping that involves all of our parts: body, mind and spirit.

Dr. Deanna Minich’s book, Whole Detox, clearly explains the multi-faceted subject and gives the reader a road map to make changes that will promote better health in cleansing your whole self. Changing how you think about yourself and others, how you talk to yourself and how you approach food will greatly enhance your life instead of creating the stress of sticking to a restrictive diet, or drinking some awful tasting concoction hoping for a one-time detox experience that will forever rid yourself of…whatever. Health isn’t sustained by a single event. Every day your body and mind will perform it’s tasks if fed properly with good food, good thoughts, and specific ways to nourish your spirit.

Many years ago I became convinced that I needed to rid myself of every nasty parasite, known and unknown, to be healthy. I read those ads that told me for a mere $75 (payments were available, or maybe I could get 2 for the price of one!), my detox dreams would come true. But when I finally ordered the kit, I was terrified by the lengthy list of potential harm that the product could cause, and the description of what could be expelled. My utter fear stopped that effort, thank goodness, as well as the absolutely gruesome stories from a couple of people I knew who actually went this route, so I guess it was a $75 learning experience. This episode reminded me that I knew the mystery of what lurks in our gut already. And I learned from the master.

As a child, I listened intently as my Grandma Rose told dark healing stories that truly frightened me about the critters she extracted from her children and close relatives, and I believed every one. I would beg her to tell me these stories over and over, knowing that I wouldn’t sleep after hearing them. One involved a push mower and the result of straining too hard. You get the picture. But make no mistake, Grandma loved the telling as if the knowledge was ancient, only available to a few, and always embellished with such memorable pictures that they became imprinted in my mind in a way that I would almost swear I witnessed each one in all it’s glorious gore.

Alice Rose was steeped in East Tennessee hill lore, and was a survival story herself having birthed and raised 9 babies with no running water or electricity in her house. Oscar, my granddad, was sort of on the periphery of my childhood. Grandma was the central figure to her family, and when she painted those vivid scenes of extricating varmints from folks, I listened and believed!

33My absolute trust in Grandma’s mojo was cemented at 5 years old on one steamy, East Tennessee summer evening . It was a Sunday event that only happened to the chosen few, and I was a witness to this miracle during a “come to Jesus” call in the wide, deep part of the creek that meandered in front of her house. There were a few folks walking into, not on the water, which didn’t jibe with my Presbyterian understanding of miracles. Vacation Bible School was very specific concerning miracles. So not understanding the whole baptism theology of submersion (we Presbys were not even sprinkled until 12 or 13), they looked very serious and a tad crazy rather than having received any kind of blessing, but Grandma said it was a miracle, therefore it was. No one looked “delivered.” They were all just standing around watching the converts slowly being dipped in the creek, then shouting “Hal-lay-lew-yuh!” when the soaked folks emerged. I guess I thought the miracle was that they weren’t drowned, but lived to tell the tale. This scene was replayed in the movie, “O Brother, Where Art Thou” as the congregation slowly moved to the river to save the sinners, singing:

As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good ol’ way
And who shall wear the starry crown?
Good Lord show me the way!

O sisters let’s go down
Let’s go down, come on down
O sisters let’s go down
Down in the river to pray

After the indoctrination of the wet conversions, I was totally convinced that Grandma Rose knew some big secrets when she told me if I had a persistent tickle in my throat, it might be a w##m (nasty squiggly thing!), and that I should immediately eat some salt to stop it’s possible exit. Boys Hattie! (I know that phrase doesn’t make any sense, but it’s necessary. lol) I ate salt! Even in the middle of the night! I’m pretty sure I consumed enough sodium chloride for my entire family’s lifetimes, but there certainly were never any traveling squigglies either!

In order to detox without eating copious amounts of salt, I suggest reading Whole Detox by Dr. Deanna Minich, to understand how all parts of your body work together to continually detox and balance. Anthony William who has identified many foods, supplements and much more to rid yourself of all sorts of health devouring viruses and other harmful substances in his book, Medical Medium, also included a cleanse for boosting your body’s immune system to move your healing forward.

Although there are people who have serious parasites, especially in third world countries, we may have co-evolved with a few creatures into a mutually beneficial relationship. Not every one of the little buggers is an enemy. We humans just don’t want to believe that there may be uninvited friends that are smarter than us, and  have purer intentions.

 

 

The Scurrilous Watermelon Adventure

Thinking capChildren are ripe for every kind of indoctrination growing up in this world. Out of the womb we begin to soak up what we see and hear in our homes, from our friends, what our teachers present to us, and what we’re permitted to see on TV or movies or the rest of virtual reality. Some is necessary training we need to navigate the world, but too much of this brainwashing is because of the hogwash we’re fed in a media driven society gone wild. The amount of trash on TV alone is overwhelming. It is very difficult to understand that any purposeful physical abuse against another human being or a defenseless animal or the planet for that matter, could be a justifiable belief. But as we constantly see in the media, abuses of all kinds are running rampant, and sometimes, we as individuals believe we are powerless to right the ship. Add in the burden of emotional energies such as anger, fear, being treated unfairly, or broken trust that humans carry through the generations, and children and adults are left with a murky brew of confusion as to what we should or want to believe. Doesn’t matter whether or not we consciously ruminate on past hurts and injustices, they are ingrained in the deep recesses of our subconscious and are a part of who we are until we can get rid of them, which is no easy task.

Growing up in East Tennessee, I was surrounded by prejudice or fear-based beliefs. There were the usual targets of black people, Jews, poor white trash, sissies and people from the North. My high school was all white kids and was further segregated into three levels of educational goals which translated to the students as smart, average and not so average. I’m pretty sure there were plenty of deadbeats in the smart group, and several geniuses in the other two. Education doesn’t always translate to success, so those unfair and untrue labels skewed our belief in self at that critical period just before leaving the nest. I’ve found as I navigate life, that we surely can change our inherited life view. Can’t blame someone else forever. We can re-shape our belief system into a positive and uplifting life for ourselves and in doing so, greatly influence those around us.

When I was 10 years old, my Grandma Rose decided that she would install me and my cousin Robert Watermelon for saleon the side of the road in front of her house with a watermelon stand. Grandma’s mojo (established in my 5-28-16 post) also included growing perfectly round, black-green and spectacularly sweet, red flesh watermelon. To enjoy the fruit of her labor, her children and grandchildren would gather in her front yard, set up wooden saw horses with plywood and newspaper on top, and cut several melons into thick wedges which we would eat, dripping juice in the grass, while we sharpened our seed spitting skills.

That summer as usual, I was hanging with Grandma and learning useful things like embroidery (I still have the pillowcase with the little roses, and you can definitely distinguish my poor little flower from Grandma’s handiwork), the best time of day to sit on the porch and break green beans, how to wring a chicken’s neck, slop the hogs…the normal stuff (lol). Anyway, this particular lesson was in commerce and included Robert, who was 13 and lived across the street. We were summer compatriots in the rolling hills behind his house. Our adventures were glorious, exhausting, noon to dusk days full of exploration and just plain fun.

Grandma’s house was not situated on a busy street, but was more like a country road with a history. Old Sevierville Pike, it’s original name, had at one time connected South Knoxville to Sevierville, TN, the birthplace of Dolly Parton for all you country music fans. My family lived in what was considered a suburban neighborhood, but no one told Grandma, who lived maybe a mile or so from us, that hogs and chickens weren’t very suburban. So I always felt like her house was somehow in a different universe. She and Grandad had moved closer to town from the ‘old homestead’ where Grandma had birthed their 9 children, but had managed to bring along most of the familiar smells such as the hogs. Seemed perfectly okay at the time, although I don’t recall anyone else around there generating those same smells. You simply could not take the country out of Alice Rose!

My Grandma was very industrious. She had to be to feed all those children in the poverty of the area in the early 1900’s. She figured selling watermelon (sorry…watermelonis just not right) for 50 cents a pop was a good profit, and myself and Robert were the handy and willing sales people for the job. I vividly remember standing in the shaded spot on the opposite side of the pike from her house and believing that we were going to be very successful in our effort. Grandma smiled and waved as she sat on her porch breaking even more green beans, and we waved back as we waited for our hungry customers to come down the road.

Just as I was thinking that we should cut some samples to lure people in, all my hopes came to a crashing halt.  The first car that came down the road had a passenger who yelled an epithet at Robert that started with an ‘N’. My cousin was part Cherokee Indian and tanned a deep bronze-brown in the summer. That horror of a person had assumed he was of a different heritage and yelled out that word because Robert was standing with a young white girl. He spat out that filth because of his own inherent and  learned anger and fear that he didn’t measure up in some way. In order to elevate himself, he had to place other people below him in importance. Whole generations carry that through life after life, spreading and adding to what is an untrue and unnatural belief. I see their souls cluttered with pockets of dark energy, growing like a cancer. Ugly, but also very sad because too many are convinced of its truth. I’m not immune to this cancer. No one is.

As a young girl, I didn’t see color. Robert could have been green for all I cared. But I will admit to having to come against prejudice later in life that still seeps into my thoughts like the slime that it is. To this day I remember my utter dismay when Grandma walked across the street to usher us back to safety, deciding that our venture had to end almost before it began. But I also felt shame, as though we were somehow to blame. I think that’s when I started to wake up to words peppered in the everyday language of people that I really loved. People who saw no harm in using racial slurs as descriptions or in jokes. And the biggest irony? Robert’s parents, my aunt and uncle, named their black cocker spaniel…yep…the “N” word.

Be careful when you spew crap. It might just be flung right back atcha’!

And another thing…eat the watermelon seeds. Don’t spit them out as we were taught as youngsters. They won’t grow a watermelon in your tummy, and they’re very nutritious. 🙂

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