That was the headline for a CNN article, and you know I had to read it! I was wondering how a banana could do that.

Turns out you have to eat them.

It seems that researchers in England spent untold amounts of money studying to see if what a woman eats before she conceives will influence the gender of her baby. They were trying to test some of the old wives tales about choosing your baby’s sex. You can skip over to the Baby Center to see some other folk “wisdom.” Those old wives were pretty obsessed with sexual positions! Who would have thought?

Yes, the researchers found that women who eat lots of bananas tend to have baby boys.

So, I’m wondering if eating lots of mangoes makes little girls? Ba dump bump. Ahem.

Seriously, in this study, scientists evaluated 740 women in their first time pregnancies to try to determine if the mother’s eating habits are connected to the baby’s gender. They found that women who ate food with high levels of potassium, high levels of calcium, or who ate cereals tended to have boys. In fact, women who had high caloric intake seemed to be more prone to having boys while women who restricted their diets most often had girls.

Hmmm. And, this is important why? It was always my opinion that you took the child you got and were delighted if it was healthy. What’s the deal with spending this kind of money on something that stupid? We could be spending the money to help prevent global warming, help cure cancer, or feed the children who are already on the planet?

I’m going to start designing “studies” and see if I can get in on some of this free grant money action. I’m just delighted that the study was done in England, because if my tax dollars were being spent on such foolishness I’d go apoplectic.

Y’all don’t tell me how my tax dollars are being spent. I’m living in blissful ignorance.

Sheesh. Bananas. Somebody is nuttier than a fruitcake.

Hi.

My name is Shelly, and I’m a stress addict.

In unison, everyone, “Hi, Shelly.”

Yes, folks. I don’t know how it happened. I just had a couple of projects going, and added a couple more. I have deluded myself into thinking that having several things going at a time keeps me interested and focused. I’ve made myself think that it is what keeps me calm! Next thing you know, life slaps me in the face with lots of problems, and I have five more stressors. But, I don’t slow down! I thought I could stop anytime I wanted, but I was wrong!

I’ve had to accept the fact that I am an adrenaline junkie. If I don’t have ten projects working, then I add more until life spirals out of control.

This habit wreaked havoc upon my body. Rheumatoid arthritis is affected by stress, and mine has been “in a flare” for months. Every joint of my body aches, and I’m exhausted all the time. My friends SusieJ and Judy have both told me that I needed to be doing yoga exercises. They pointed out that yoga would help the flexibility of my joints AND help me learn to be calm and relaxed.

I decided to take their advice. I went to my favorite bookstore (I’ve told you about Recycled Books on the square here in Denton), to rummage around and see if I could find a yoga book that would meet my needs. People, I’ve looked at some of those yoga books, and I know darned well I could never twist my body into those poses. Even when I was a young woman, I couldn’t bend into those pretzel shapes. I’m definitely no spring chicken. I needed a beginner book, one that would take into account that I don’t have a lot of flexibility.

I found just the one I needed. When I opened it up, the models looked like real people (not impossibly trim and fit exercise addicts). One woman even had a “muffin top” like mine. You know, the roll above the waistband of the pants.

It’s called “Yoga For Wimps—Poses for the Flexibly Impaired.” Miriam Austin must have written that book just for me. A quick glance at it showed that mostly the models used a chair, towels and some old neckties (for the stretching). I figured I’d get out my Three Stooges neckties to use, since that seemed appropriate. I bought that book and came home excited about trying it out.

I opened the book to the first chapter, and it had some exercises where I was supposed to get into what she calls the “staff pose.” That meant I had to put my butt against a wall, and extend my legs straight up the wall.

That was my first problem. A wall.

Yes, I have walls at my house. Lots of them. And, they all have furniture in front of them. I searched around the house for twenty minutes just trying to find a patch of wall big enough to try these exercises. I was getting furious, and stomping from room to room when I spied the one bit of wall that wasn’t covered by a couch.

The landing on the stairs.

Seriously. It’s not a very big space, but there is a little bit of wall. There just isn’t much floor in front of it. In fact, when I put my rear end against the wall, my torso was too long for the space. The upper staircase was in the way. So, I cocked my head to one side to try to do it anyway…

My legs were straight up against the wall, my body was warped in a weird angle, and I was trying to do breathing exercises to calm and center myself while I flexed my feet toward me. Unfortunately, with my windpipe twisted at a right angle, breathing wasn’t very easy. I persevered.

For the second exercise, from that “Staff Pose,” I was supposed to “simply” widen my legs. Unfortunately, that part of the wall isn’t very wide. Ms. Austin wrote in her book, “Gravity is your friend.”

You know that “friend” in high school who made catty remarks behind your back and stole your boyfriend? That’s the kind of “friend” that gravity is to me. I was struggling in that space the size of a postage stamp. My legs wouldn’t stay against the wall, and I couldn’t keep my butt against the wall. I was getting red in the face trying, but I kept after it.

I was getting the hang of it……..until I ran into five more problems.

Five cats decided that Mommy must be playing a fun game!

Now, y’all, if I had gotten on the floor and called, “Here, kitty, kitty,” every single one of those cats would have ignored me. They would have sat upon some lofty perch and preened with a Cheshire Cat grin upon their faces. They would have done that just to drive me nuts.

Because I looked like I was concentrating and didn’t need any help, they decided they needed to supervise. One decided to sit on my chest. Another wanted to chew my hair. A third stretched up the wall to try to pat my knees. The other two just sat and “meowed” right in my face. It was that loud cry they do in the morning when they are trying to talk me into feeding them. Very annoying.

Cussing and screaming at them, I tried to continue my exercises, attempting to concentrate and breathe properly so I could relax. It’s hard to relax when you are turning the air blue. They simply would. not. leave. me. alone.

When I finally threw in the towel, I know my blood pressure had skyrocketed, and I didn’t feel the least bit calm. Under the circumstances, I’m not sure that yoga is right for me. Maybe that’s why that book was for sale at a used book store? Somebody else was just as wimpy as I am. I’m too wimpy even for the simple exercises. How stressful is that?

I think I’ll drink a beer on the porch (far away from the cats) and try to come up with another project to calm me down.

I’ve told y’all that I’m a Texan. For the record, that means that my version of “English” might not sound like what the rest of the world expects.

I. also. hear. as. slow. as. I. talk.

That creates a problem sometimes, and makes me wish I was bilingual. I told you that I’m tongue-tied. In Texas, it would be good to also be able to speak Spanish. But, in dealing with my computer woes, I think I need to learn Hindi.

I’m struggling to set up a PayPal account for Tucker’s Camp Sanguinity Fund 2008. I talked about my desire to raise money to send kids to cancer camp several days ago.

I got approval from PayPal to set up the account and get charitable donations. I went along blithely creating the account on my regular e-mail account. PayPal deposited twenty-three cents in two separate deposits into that charitable account, and I had to wait until it showed on my bank records to find out what they were. Only then could I confirm my PayPal account.

At last, it was confirmed, and I created a donation button. Whoot! To test it, I sent an e-mail link to my Sweet Spousal Unit, and asked him to donate $20. He’s so sweet that he did that. It went directly into my regular PayPal account instead of into the charitable account!! We can’t have that!

Back to square one. I had to call customer service. Bless her heart, that gal was not from Texas! It’s hard to deal with customer service when the representative’s primary language is not English. I don’t understand Hindi and my Texan accent is so garbled that the poor woman and I just kept saying, “What?” “Excuse me?”

Turns out that I have to get a different e-mail address and set up a new PayPal account. At least I think that’s what she said.

So, I’m working on that and a press release and several other problems with my storytelling work that have cropped up in the last few days. I do want to thank Marcia, Anne (a Share A Square volunteer), and my friend Judy for donating money toward the Camp Sanguinity fund. I’m tickled that any money has come at all, since I’ve been traveling and working the last few days and haven’t been able to work on fund raising.

Y’all excuse me while I take care of bidness.