A smoothie is a drink of blended fruits, sugar and water for a nutritious alternative to soda or processed fruit drinks.  Green smoothies are popular now because they include vegetables and eliminate the sugar and still taste like a sweet treat.

My longtime college pal Dee Antil shared her recipe with me and with her permission, I’m sharing it with you.

First, some back story.  Dee tells me the bones of the smoothie came from another friend, Byron Glaser, owner of Zolo Toys in Fredericksburg, Virginia.
As a one-time nurse anesthetist and now jewelry designer, Dee added flax seed and wheat germ for more nutritional punch.

My favorite aspect of the smoothie, other than the near complete low-calorie meal in a glass, is that it’s a painless way to eat raw Kale, one of the healthiest foods,  and coincidentally in my opinion, inedible no matter how you prepare it.  The first time I made the smoothie I added too much kale and too little liquid which rendered the entire glass something similar to rotting grass clippings.  Dee still chuckles at the description when I emailed her my “thanks” for the great idea.

Ready to rumble

Since then, I’ve consulted with Dee and tinkered a bit, and with Dee’s permission, I offer what I now consider to be the Best Green Smoothie recipe:

*3 leaves raw kale, stems included for additional fiber

*1 cup fresh or frozen fruit of your choice

*1 tablespoon wheat germ

*1 tablespoon flax seed

*1 cup coconut water

*1 serving “good belly” brand probiotic juice, available in the yogurt section of Wegmans

Blend until liquefied.  Note: darker fruits like blueberries, strawberries and cherries will darken the color of the smoothie.  The lighter the fruit, the brighter green the final product.

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My eight-year old mini dachsund named Otto battled a cough in the days before I left Syracuse for a week on Cape Cod and instead of getting better here, he got worse.  I recalled my Cape friend Teresa telling me about a great veterinarian who makes house calls,  so I telephoned to make an appointment.

If I was unsure whether I had the option of an office visit or a house call, I quickly got my answer when Dr. Joan Goffi asked me for directions to my house.

Help for Otto arrives

There she was, at noon today, with her two black canvas bags and a kindly smile that told me Otto was going to be OK.  She asked me about symptoms, listened to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope, and advised me that he might indeed need to go to the veterinary hospital in town if the antibiotics for his lungs don’t work.

All the while, Otto’s big sister Eika the German Shepherd was uncharacteristically concerned.  She sat up very close to the doctor, and sometimes leaned right into her.  She interrupted conversation by extending her paw.  Twice she attempted to jump onto the sofa where I was sitting, though she knows that is strictly forbidden.

What upset her so?  Dr. Goffi was confident and reassuring.   I was at ease.  Otto wasn’t particularly thrilled at getting prodded, but he didn’t appear to send out any canine distress signals.  I remain stumped at what freaked out the big dog.

Then it came time for a blood draw and Otto’s fortunes quickly changed.  Maybe that’s what spooked Eika.  She’s clairvoyant.

Declaring the counter-height kitchen peninsula exactly the right level for the task, Doctor Goffi asked for a towel for the table and a towel to swaddle Otto.  In these circumstances, the pet owner becomes a vet tech, the person responsible for holding down the patient while his vein gets pricked.  It was over in a flash, well at least for the doctor and me.  It was a little different for Otto who had a needle in his jugular vein. Doctor Goffi will phone me with the results in the morning.  Could it be any easier?

In the meantime, I was handed some doggy antibiotics and an itemized bill that sweemed equivalent to what I would pay at the vet’s office in Syracuse and yet I never had to leave my house.  Aside from Eika’s odd anxiety, it was a very relaxing and comfortable experience.

Doctor Goffi told me she used to be part of a large veterinary practice where appointments were scheduled roughly 20 minutes apart.  Now that she’s independent and conducting medical business by car, she allows an hour for each visit.  She also saves money on office rent, phone and machines and technicians.  The doctor doesn’t hesitate to send sick animals for X-rays and ultrasounds at the animal hospitals, but most of the care can be done as it was today; in the home, with a stethoscope, vast experience, a sweet bedside manner and an occasional blood catheter.

If this seems delightfully old-fashioned, consider that Dr. Goffi says house-calls are the largest growing segment of veterinary medicine.   Young new graduates handle just about anything with a smart phone or tablet, so it makes sense that a decent car and someone’s kitchen table will be more than adequate to replace customary office space.

What do you think about this trend?  Are you ready for veterinary house calls?  Or is it best to bring our pets to a more clinical setting?  Please weigh in.

Thank you Dr. Goffi. Otto doesn't mind you came to the kitchen and took blood out of his neck.

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I just watched a report about bigger women and smaller supermodels on ABC News that completely missed the point.  Body weight is a disparity issue of the moment, like the growing gulf between the wealthy and the poor.

The correspondent interviewed gorgeous former model Beverly Johnson who used to be size 6, and was informed that today, a size 6 would be a “plus size” model.  What ABC failed to report is that dress sizes are growing right alongside the expanding American woman.  There was no mention of height and weight, but if there had been, it would be apparent that supermodels weigh what they’ve always weighed, while typical American women are bigger than ever.

When I was in graduate school 31 years ago, I saved like heck and bought a pair of khaki Pierre Cardin bermuda shorts that I loved nearly to shreds.  It was the beginning of the return to classic fashion and I felt like a million bucks. At the time,  I was 5′ 8″ tall and I weighed about 123 pounds.  My bermuda shorts were a size 10.

Today at 54 years of age, I am 5′  7″  and 133.  Ten pounds heavier than 30 years ago,  I now wear a size 6.

I kept those bermuda shorts as a barometer of my weight gain through the years.  I cannot even close the the waistline now.  They fit like a size 2.

Growing up in the 1960s my mother and her friends used to speak of a “size 10″ as the benchmark into which every woman should fit.  I suppose in the 1960s, a size 10 was equivalent to a size 0 today, and who would envy someone in a 0?  Wouldn’t we all pass judgement and say she is anorexic?  She needs some food?  She’s unhealthy and has an unrealistic body image?

The ABC report was correct in stating the disparity between super models and typical women is growing, but it was wrong to say women are getting bigger while models are “getting smaller”.  Super models have always been thin, but the American woman is growing gigantic, and against the typical woman today, supermodels look like freaks.  We’ve lost what a healthy woman looks like.

One of the first supermodels of the modern age is Twiggy, with a name reflecting the opinion of the day that boy, she sure was thin.  But compared to the typical woman of the day, she wasn’t that different.   I watch movies of the 1970s and can’t believe how thin and flat-chested are the women.  They looked completely normal when I watched during the ’70s.

For years my first mother-in-law proudly proclaimed that she was 99 pounds on her wedding day.  Many 1950s brides were.  Crossing the 100 pound threshold was met with alarm.  Sure, we’re about an inch taller on average than we were in the ’50s, but that hardly explains reaching 100 pounds by 6th grade.

Of course, marathons, mountain-climbing and hockey leagues for women did not exist back then.  Women kept the weight down with soft muscles and cigarettes.  Bigger meal portions don’t explain everything about today’s a 200 pound woman.

It’s easy to blame the fashion industry and super models for portraying an unrealistic ideal.  It’s much easier to look at our neighbors and say “now that’s normal!”  Typical, yes, normal, no.  A woman who is 5′ 5″ woman and weighs 190 pounds is at risk for diabetes, heart disease and stroke.

Rather than reject the models, we should reject the extra food.  Restaurant portions have grown to give customers the impression they’re getting a better “value”, but as humans are visual eaters, we clean out plate thinking “they wouldn’t give me this much if they didn’t think I could eat it all”.

We’ve turned grocery shopping into an art form and if you doubt that, look at the rabid fan base of Wegman’s.   It’s a temple in an increasingly secularized world.  Just because it’s available and we can afford it, doesn’t mean we should buy it and eat it.  We pick up new ideas from the Food Channel.  And don’t even get me started on those gross eating contests on television.

There’s a supermodel, or two or five, within every one of us.

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I’m at the heavenly place again, Cape Cod, Massachusetts.  You would be surprised at how many people were on the beach this 11th day of the coldest month of the year.  No one was in a bathing suit in the 43 degree sunshine of course, but plenty of people were bundled up, walking dogs and themselves and soaking up the sunshine.

While Syracuse is enjoying a Cape Cod kind of winter this year, Cape Codders are talking about a Virginia winter here.  My carpenter said he’s thinking about the polar bears, but otherwise, climate change is working for him.  Ditto.

After running my two dogs into exhaustion at the beach, I went to the Nauset Fish Store in Orleans and bought some halibut.  I usually prefer shellfish, but the halibut was glistening on the ice and I couldn’t resist.  Waiting at the cash register I noticed the large sign on the wall which stated how to cook “white” fish, which means any fish that is white in color, or any fish besides orange-colored salmon or red-colored tuna.  It didn’t take much memorization on my part.  I came home and did it.

It’s so simple you probably all know it already, or you might have guessed it.  But it was marvelous in its simplicity.

So hit the fish department at the grocery store or try Fins and Tails on Erie Boulevard.  Get the white-colored fish of your choice: halibut, haddock, cod, scrod etc. and give this a try.  It’s a winner.

No-fail Baked White Fish courtesy: Nauset Fish Store, Orleans, MA

Grease a casserole dish with butter, canola oil or PAM and add the fish.

Salt and pepper the fish.  Add a few pats of butter.

Top with generous amount of Panko – Japanese bread crumbs, widely available next to the traditional bread crumbs in stores.

Bake at 375 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes.

After this, all you need is a salad or steamed broccoli and roasted potatoes. Pinch yourself that you are  not dead and in heaven.

..

Plenty of room at Hardings Beach in Chatham

Foot and paw prints in the sand

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When Kate Middleton became the Duchess of Cambridge last summer, I thought, finally!  A break-out wedding gown to bust us out of this endless strapless phase.  Wedding gowns which end above the bosom have ruled for at least ten years which seem more like 20 to me.  You’ve seen one strapless gown, you’ve seen them all.  Where is everyone’s imagination?

Kate’s gorgeous creation, with lace in a plunging “V” neckline and full-length sleeves reminded many fashionistas of Grace Kelly’s 1956 sophisticated treasure, only with a little more sex appeal to reflect modern times.  Even Pippa, the most popular bridesmaid in history, got gigantic reviews for her cowl-necked sculpted column of silk.

Some other famous gowns in history, worn by brides Elizabeth Taylor, Jacqueline Kennedy and Princess Diana, all had distinct necklines but they did not ignite a decades-long march down the aisle of sameness such as we continue to see with strapless gowns.

I just saw the Syracuse Post-Standard’s article on Bridal Gown Trends for 2012.  With the exception of a few examples, every gown lacks an interesting neckline of any sort.  What a missed opportunity.   I think a unique neckline calls attention to the bride’s face, while these gowns show all the interest from the waist down.  Look at the wedding announcements in any newspaper and every bride’s portrait appears the same, because the beauty of her gown is too low to make the picture.

I’m not sure why we’ve held onto this trend for too long, and why there is so little deviation in the stores.   Middle-school girls famously dress alike so as not to stand out too much in “age of conformity”.  If you dress just like your friends, then your enemies will have to tackle the whole lot of you.  But brides should be years out of that phase and instead, seeking individuality.

Isn’t she inviting attention to her unique style with her grand entrance after all the bridesmaids pass by in their identical dresses?  Watch the eyes of all the guests as she passes.  Attendees dutifully take it all in, right to the tip of the train.

At any other event in life it is rude to allow your eyes to wander up and down, head to toe.  But at a wedding it’s encouraged.  You’re only going to wear this thing for five hours.  People had better study every detail.  And doesn’t everyone reward the bride in the receiving line by saying “your gown is amazing!”

Kate Middleton isn’t the only celebrity bride to “just say no” to the common strapless.  Ivanka Trump wore a stunner featuring an elbow-length lace topper over what would have been just another strapless gown.  The delicate lace which hugged the upper arms of youth made all the difference in the look.

Chelsea Clinton, of whom I am a major fan, missed her opportunity for bridal stardom by donning the common strapless,but President Bush’s daughter Jenna struck a gorgeous pose with her body-hugging, V-necked floral applique knock-out.

Note that with Chelsea’s Clinton’s gown, like so many strapless dresses today, the designer is forced to distinguish the piece with something interesting at the waistline.  In Clinton’s case it is a beaded detail at the waist.  But unless you are rail-thin, the waistline is not where most women of any age want people to look.

Elizabeth Taylor's first wedding to Conrad Hilton, 1950

In a chicken-or-the-egg debate, do brides buy strapless because that’s all you can find in the boutiques?  Or do boutiques stock strapless because that is all that brides will buy?

In 2012, fashion-forward brides will have to work a little harder and search a little longer and perhaps farther to break the industry of its strapless spell.

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Christine Paluf and Dr. William Petit Jr.

The news today that Dr. William Petit found new love gave me a shot of warmth and optimism.  If anyone deserves a second chance at happiness in life, it is he.

I have a difficult time acknowledging there is evil in the world, so when the proof is right in front of me, I seek every detail in a macabre sort of challenge of nature.  I don’t know what I’m looking for exactly, probably just some clue about why there sometimes exists a hell on earth.

That’s what happened in Connecticut in 2007.   Two parolees, Joshua Komisarjevsky and Steven Hayes stalked a mother and her 11 year old daughter at the supermarket, followed them to their suburban home, and planned an evening of robbery and torture.    In the middle of the night, they broke into the home and found Dr. Petit asleep on the sofa in the family room.  They slammed his head with a baseball bat and tied him up, out of the way in the basement.

The sisters were tied to their beds and the younger one was raped, as was the mother, Jennifer Hawke-Petit.  Early the next morning Hayes drove Jennifer to the bank and instructed her to withdraw cash, which she did at the same time she passed a note to the teller that the family was being held hostage nearby.  It was the last time anyone saw her alive.  She returned to the car and was  brought home and strangled.  The robbers set fire to the house and left the girls to die in the flames.

At about the same time, Dr. Petit, bloodied and injured, managed to free himself and escaped out a basement window to seek help.  Between the neighbor’s call to 911 and the call from the bank, the small town police force arrived quite long after, and were criticized for not taking the house sooner to save the women.

In the subsequent separate trials of Joshua Komisarjevsky and Steven Hayes , Petit said he thought often about suicide after the loss of his family and all the memorabilia a family creates and collects, but he pursued justice for all of them, and in the process, found new love.  He is now engaged to photographer Christine Paluf,  a woman who volunteered with the charitable organization which was begun to honor the memories of the lost women.

For those of us in Central New York, it brought back terrible memories of the Harris family murders in Dryden, NY, in 1989.  In similar fashion, Michael Kinge broke into the home of a typical family preparing for the Christmas holiday.  He tied up the father, mother and teenage son, escorted 15 year old Shelby to the master bedroom, forced her to put on her prom dress and sexually assaulted her over several hours.  She died on that bed.  The rest of the family was tied up, seated back to back on the floor and shot in the head one at a time.   The Harris home was also doused with gasoline and set afire to destroy evidence.

It is easy to cope with these vicious acts by reminding ourselves we are far away.  Different towns, different states.  If we turned the news off at the first details we can protect ourselves from the grim certainty that evil really does exist.  But by opening our eyes and our minds, we learn how close we come to the long fingers of trouble.

Not long after the Harris family was killed, I was walking in Saint Mary’s cemetery in Dewitt.  I consider cemeteries to be beautiful places; the underground inhabitants mostly taken by natural causes in their 70s as nature suggests we go.  Cemeteries are peaceful and park-like.  But one routine, sunny day I saw a large headstone right beside the little road I was walking with the words “Harris Family” etched deep.  I felt a thunderbolt strike me in the head.  There they all were, a few feet from me, together in eternity much too soon.  It was too close.

The Petit family came too close too.  In a family photo released during the first trial, the background looked terribly familiar to me.  The family was from Connecticut with plenty of Atlantic coastline, but the background of this particular picture looked like Wychmere Harbor near my vacation house on Cape Cod.

Wychmere Harbor, Cape Cod, June 2007

I read the caption and my blood froze: “Cape Cod, June 2007″.   My family was on Cape Cod in June of 2007 too.  Could our paths have crossed at the beach, the grocery store, or the ice cream shop in Harwich?  Or did the Petits pass through quickly on their way to other Cape towns?  It really doesn’t matter now.  They lined up along the split-rail fence as everyone does for a photo there, as I’ve done with my own children many times.   We went on to live our lives.  The Petits went back to Connecticut and were dead in a month.

Happy endings seem so necessary, especially for those who deserve them more than just about anybody. That is Dr. Petit. His fiancee looks remarkably similar to his wife.  Is he holding onto a piece of his first love by finding love in someone who looks eerily the same?   His in-laws say they are ecstatic at the news.  The backdrop of unfathomable hate makes this gesture all the more loving and kind.

Perhaps we need to see evil from time to time to see love’s power and grace.  Everything is relative after all.  Anyone familiar with what happened in that home in Connecticut must have wished to hold the doctor in humanity’s embrace.  I’m so happy we won’t be needed anymore.  Dr. Petit deserves new love,  and I am thrilled he seems to have found it.

Wychmere Harbor, Cape Cod, Autumn 2011

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Good riddance to 2011.  It was not my best year.  But for a “glass half full” person such as I, I look forward to carrying with me all that did work from this year to the next.

My children continue to grow, mature and amaze me.   The feedback I hear most often is how well-mannered and behaved they are.  You can’t buy that.  For sure, I see the exceptions, but overall, I could not be happier with the four children I am lucky enough to call my own.

I have an awesome family that began pretty small in Worcester, Massachusetts and which gets a little smaller through years of “attrition”.   Though we are separated by the states, my sisters and I grow closer, and funnier, each year.  When we are lucky enough to come together, as we did in a mini sister-reunion in the spring, we pretty much laugh at everything.

My friends proved once again that I am blessed to have the very best people in my life.   How many people can claim as I do, that friends give me 95 percent of the consideration all of the time?  Call me selfish, but at least I appreciate how lucky I am.

My house in the Syracuse University neighborhood remains a refuge from the world and a gathering place for the people I love.   This year I met the grandson of the first occupant of my home, built in 1926.  I have now met all three owners, or their descendants, who lived in this house, which is rare for a structure 86 years old.

The physician who built the house, Doctor Moore,  lived here from 1926 until 1948.   From 1948 until 1963 the Pomperoy family called this place home and I was delighted to meet the silver-haired bearded gentleman from the North Country who pulled into my driveway two years ago.  He spent his teenage years here and gave me marvelous information about the remodeling that had been completed before the family moved in in ’48.   Finally, the Dickinson family of Dewitt owned the house from 1963 until I bought it in 1994.  Imagine just four owners in an 86 year old house.  This gracious place encourages people to really settle in for a time.

After the Labor Day Storm of 1998 I planted a showy sugar maple tree in my front yard to take away the sting of losing 14 magnificent oaks.   With every passing year the maple becomes a larger flame of vivid autumn color.  With the leaves down for another winter now, I can see the plastic grocery bag that landed in an updrift of wind in summer of 2010 is none the worse for wear.  When you hear these bags have a thousand years in them, believe it.  In spite of the winds, the snow, the heat and the battering of branches and twigs, that plastic bag shows no sign of giving up its perch.  And now I’ve noticed it has some company in the form of a black plastic bag nearby.

I suppose I should be annoyed that people let trash blow around like that and some of it lands in my trees, but there’s something comforting about that stupid plastic bag stuck in the maple.  It’s an odd form of permanence, resilience, and strength, all qualities I admire in people, on display in my front yard.

Happy New Year, one and all.  Let 2012 be all that you dream it can be.

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I was driving my car the other day, listening to Christmas songs on the radio, and belting out the old standards to my audience of one.  All I can say is, for the sake of ears and sensibilities, thank goodness I was alone.

Singing, when done well, is universally appealing.  Across many cultures of the world we vault the best singers to super stardom and spend money to listen to them in concert or on recordings.  Great singers are famous even when they’re dead.  Think of Elvis, John Lennon, Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland.   How many mechanical engineers can you name from the 1940s until now?

Done poorly or off-key, singing gets you millions of hits on youtube, and fame of a different sort.  If you’re not sure of the category into which you lean, ask the opinion of your spouse who hears you singing in the shower everyday.  Like bad breath, few people will take you there.

What is it about singing that makes most people think they can do it?  Whether performed at the top of the lungs in the shower or the car, or as part of karaoke in a crowd, singing is unique. You don’t need a license or instruction or permission to try; you just do it, even if you’re not good at it.  And trying it feels good, unlike say, math.  If you can’t do math and you try it,  the end result is far less satisfying and humorous than if you’re a miserable singer.

So what are your favorite holiday songs?  The ones that do justice to your vocal abilities?   We all know the Star Spangled Banner is best left to the professionals.  But Jingle Bells ?  Works well every time. If you’re feeling particularly confident, you can ask someone to join you in rounds like in elementary school.

My favorites (in the car of course) are White Christmas, I’ll be Home for Christmas and Silver Bells.  What are you singing these days?  Let me know.

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I got new eyeglasses recently.  And because I found such an affordable source, I went wild and got five pairs.

Some of my new glasses

You might remember the days when getting an eye exam involved an appointment with the eye doctor who did the exam and sold the glasses from a pretty small supply in his office.  Enter the big chains like Pearle Vision and Lenscrafters which offered walk-in appointments and a warehouse selection of frames.  There’s an optometrist on site who charges relatively little for the actual exam, with the expectation you’ll spend hundreds of dollars on the glasses before you leave.

I had one of these exams a couple of months ago.  For $110 the doctor was thorough, experienced and caring.  As I went to pay, a friendly clerk encouraged me to select my glasses. I couldn’t even browse the selection because I was short on time, but while she processed my credit card for the exam I inquired about the price of the frames.  If I wanted anti-glare lenses I would end up paying between $400. and $500. for a single pair of new glasses.

Now, I’m sure there are entry-level basic styles available for much less, but there are as many pretty designer options for much more.  I was seeking something mid-range and that’s the estimate I received.   I have no eye coverage on my health insurance.  This was going to hurt.

I told the woman I would think about it and asked for my prescription which she seemed disappointed but resigned to give.   I’m sure she is aware of the $99. glasses in Sam’s Club and BJ’s Wholesale Club, and she may also be aware of the new option of buying glasses online, so she may have thought she lost my business.  She did.  As much as I want to support these places, I don’t have $600. for an eye exam and one pair of glasses.

There are two websites I considered, warbyparker.com and zennioptical.com.   Warby is a beautiful site; it’s easy to navigate and everything about it looks lux and pretty.  All glasses cost $95 and include free shipping and free try-ons, which means you can select some frames you’d like to try at home and they’ll mail them to you.  If you don’t want to wait, you can try them on “virtually”, by uploading a photo, or even better, activating your webcam and aligning your face within their parameters.  I did this and it gave me a pretty good idea of how the frames would look on me.  But since BJ’s Wholesale Club offers glasses for $99 I thought if I’m going to spend about the same money, I’ll just get in my car and drive to the store.

Then I went to Zenni Optical.   This website doesn’t have the same upscale feel as Warby Parker and they don’t offer frames for you to try at home.  They do have random faces at the upper right side of the screen on whom you can try the glasses, but like Warby Parker, they also have an upload feature for your own photo.  Once you select a straight-on photo from your files and you line up the points in the upload box, you’re ready to try on hundreds of glasses.

The first thing you should know about these virtual try-ons is it’s just a loose gauge.  The glasses have a cartoon-like quality and are useful only for judging the width and shape for your face.  The color isn’t even close, so you have to exercise a leap in faith here.  But pay attention to the width of the glasses you try on because this will be the first elimination from the thousands of available frames.  You don’t want to waste time looking at small frames if your face demands something wider.

Like any commercial website you can “add to favorites” as a way to whittle the selection down, and when you’re ready to buy you simply add it to your cart.  Then, get your prescription ready and begin to fill in the values.  You’ll see they are lined up similarly to your prescription card so don’t let all the numbers intimidate you.

Here’s the hardest part.  It’s the PD number, or pupil distance.  Warby Parker says you should have this done by a professional if it’s not already on your prescription card, which mine wasn’t.  Holding that measurement keeps people from taking their prescription to someone else.  Zenni gives you a guide for measuring your own with a helper and a ruler.  I think I got it close enough.

On Zenni most glasses cost between $20. and $40. so I got five of them.  The anti-glare option is only another $4.95 and there are other adds on available too like progressive bifocals and more resilient lenses.  But if you need just a basic pair of prescription glasses you can get a complete pair of lenses and frames for as low as $10.

I know what you’re thinking.  Turning to the internet for glasses will force up the price of the eye exam at the big chains and I understand that, but I cannot imagine the exam itself will ever approach $500  and if it does, they’ll probably go out of business and something else will take their place.

Online prescription glasses.  Why not?

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