Livingthedreamwithdiana.com

I have found another amazing YouTube channel called, obviously, The Moons.

They are a family of 6 from England that have moved to France, and enjoy a lifestyle they call magical.

They maintain a stable of retired champion jumping horses, called Legacy of Legends. The horses they stable are all over 20 years old, and would have been destroyed when they were no longer of any use, but the Moons adopt them, or buy some of them, and care for them until they either go to another owner, or die.

They are trying to get the country of France to pass legislature to protect these horses from being abandoned, or sent to the meat plant. They want to get government funding, I believe, to help with the maintenance of the horses, as well. It is all in the government red tape, just like in any country in the world.

They have tons of other animals, plus a crow named Boo that has adopted them. She comes when they call her name, she hangs around with the whole family, and is an absolute treat to watch. She’s wild, sleeps, eats, and fends for herself outside, but is part of the family.

Nick Moon, known as Daddy Moon, is an equestrian, a professional show jumper, and his wife, Jenny (Mommy), Moon, worked in the stables, but now, is a teddy bear creator, and restorer. People, from all over the world, send her their old, beaten up teddy bears to restore; she restores them, and returns them to their homes.

For Daddy Moon, people all over the world, let him know of old horses, retired professionals, being sent to slaughter at various “meat farms”, to be made into cheap meat, sold to whomever wants it.

Jenny finds bears at local rumble sales, or brocantes, (broh-CONTS) as they’re called in France, repairs them, and keeps them in what she calls her bear room. It is a room filled with anything she has collected over the years, some having been repaired by her, and other things that are just whimsical, that she likes to have around her, and the family. It’s the room that has all of her old, antique supplies, and tools to fix the bears that have come her way.

Let me show you a few photos of the bear, Pompadour, who was pretty beaten up when she found him. Just look at the transformation.

Jenny still has to redo his “claws”, if you will; you can see a bit of dark thread on his left paw, but that will be in another video. This video was shot a year ago; I’m just getting started on their channel.

Anyway, the parents try to keep the magic alive in the lives of their kids, and it’s wonderful to watch.

I hope you’ll take a minute, and see what they get up to.

Until next we meet, enjoy the magic in your life, and stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

I am addicted to an internet, YouTube, show called The Hot Ones, on the channel First We Feast. It’s hosted by a Chicagoan named Sean Evans, and it’s all about eating hot wings.

Every week, there is a different guest star from any genre; athletes, actors, singers, dancers, comedians, etc. Each is encouraged to eat 10 hot chicken wings that have been bathed in sauces with varying degrees of heat, from, lets say 200 Scoville heat units, (SHU), to over 2,000,000 units. They can bring anything they need with them to help them get through the ordeal, though bottomless glasses of milk, and water are provided.

The impetus for them to do this is that, after eating, and surviving all 10 wings, they roll out the red carpet, and they have 30 seconds of uninterrupted YT time to tell whomever is watching what they have coming up in their future; future events, albums, movies, etc. If they check out, clock out, get up and leave, they only get 15 seconds; except anyone that leaves just leaves. So far, I’m only on season 5, I’ve only seen 1 person leave. He was one of the first 2 of the first season.

As I said earlier, it is terribly addicting, in the same way that Dexter was addicting, watching him kill people, though justifiably. They are all lured into a false sense of security by the first 4 wings which are all, more or less, less than 6,000 SHU’s, less than the heat of a jalapeño. By the fifth wing, though, it all starts to go downhill.

During all of this, with each wing, the guest is asked a question that Sean wants them to answer. There is a short segment, around wings 4, & 5, where he has a laptop brought to him, (only 11 folks on staff, a very small, dark set, and even smaller budget), he calls it “Explain that Gram”, when he shows different photos from the guests Instagram page, and asks for a deeper explanation of said photo.

Many realize that, all of a sudden, their teeth hurt, or their hair hurts; some have said that they no longer feel their tongue, or their face; everything above the front of their shirt hurts. More often than not, almost all stop talking.

By the 7th , 8th, and 9th wings, usually about 20,000 – 2,500,000 SHU’s, multiple times hotter than a jalapeño, only a few can still think, listen, or talk coherently. They are perspiring, swearing, allowed on the internet, (strong language advisory), and funny as anything, drinking whatever they can get ahold of, and staring off into space.

Before eating the 10th incredibly hot, and dabbed chicken leg, Sean takes the last bottle of hellishly fiery sauce, shakes it, and tells them it’s a tradition to “dab” the wing with the last, and hottest sauce.

After the heat starts to kick in, Sean asks the deepest question that he, and the viewers who actually know these people probably really want to know. Most guests are numb, both mentally, and vocally.

Sean also eats these wings, all spiced, as for the guests, at least weekly; sometimes several times weekly. His skill, as an interviewer, at asking very interesting questions is his call to fame; the guests are appreciative of his ability to dig deep into their stories to find out interesting things about each of them.

It’s funny, too, that by season 3, many of the guests had watched their friends on the show, so they sort of knew what was coming. Many actually were looking forward to the challenge, trying to finish, like so, and so did. Too funny.

I have to tell you honestly, that I laugh until I’ve got tears in my eyes. I feel a trifle badly that I laugh at their pain, but I’ve felt some of that pain. When we eat a salsa that someone else has made, and has habanero, or manzano chiles in it, and we are unaware, WOW! It lights your mouth on fire. So I do appreciate what they are going through.

It’s still funny as Hell. Watch it, and let me know what you think.

Until next we meet, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

Post script: several guests get rid of the bottle from Da’Bomb. It’s nothing more than heat, there’s no taste. It’s in the middle range of SHU’s at 135,000, but NO ONE likes it, or thinks it’s needed in the lineup. It’s kept as the middle sauce from which to proceed.

For the past several months, Ivan has been up at night, sleeping during the day, and I have been just the opposite.

Now, we have switched places; I am up all night, and sleeping during the day, while he is sleeping, again, at night.

Bummer.

It seems that just when we get close to sleeping at the same time, something comes along to mess with us. Even just a quick nap during the day is enough to send one, or both of us our the circadian sleep cycles.

Oh well. Some sleep is infinitely better than no sleep.

Until next time, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

Post script: we are going to restart masking when going outside again in the very near future; maybe even before you read this. Another strain of CoVid has hit Mexico, unsure if it’s already here in CDMX, but we’re not going to take any chances. Stay safe.

I was walking to the kitchen just now, and asked Ivan if there was anything he wanted

from the kitchen!!!!!

I had just told him that, at that time, on the 9th, I had been exercising for 12 days, and that in 2 more days I will have been exercising for 2 weeks.

Hahahahaha. He looked at me, out of the corner of his eyes, as if to say that there was no physical proof of all of my hard work.

Hahahahaha.

I told him that the said proof was carefully secreted beneath this very clever layer of fat that was encompassing my body at present, but would reveal itself over the next few weeks.

I wish you could have seen the snicker in his eyes; the grin on his mouth. It was charming.

He doesn’t think I can do it. Why? Because I never have.

This time, I’m all in. I’m going to bring out the best in me so I can, once again, lead the life I want. I am so tired of being short of breath every time I take the stairs two floors down, then up. Seriously? I can, and will do better.

I just wish you could have seen his expression. It was not only priceless, but encouraging.

Until next we meet, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

Post script: this is posting on November 3rd, and I’m still exercising every day, except Sunday. Gotta rest one evening.

(I can’t tell if I posted this or just thought I did, so here it goes; maybe again.)

I can’t believe how much more energy I have these days; even without much nightly sleep.

We go to bed somewhere in the neighborhood of 2:30am – 4:30am, and I sleep until somewhere between 8:30am – 10:30am. It takes me awhile to wake up, about half an hour to an hour, but once I do, I’m a force with which to be reckoned.

Kind of.

Really, though, once I’m up, have weighed myself, had a shower, and a cup of coffee, look out mama. Here I come.

For the past few days, I have been focusing on the kitchen; cleaning it, like Fall cleaning, deep cleaning it.

The only problem with deep cleaning, getting the floors sparklingly white, glitteringly white, is that, once they are clean, sparklingly, glitteringly white, is that I get crazy about keeping them that way.

These past few days I have been vacuuming, and wait

you’d better sit down for this part. I’d hate for you to hurt yourself when you pass out.

Ok. Let’s start again.

I have been vacuuming, or sweeping, as need calls for it, then mopping, yes, mopping the floors in the apartment; the entire apartment. After that, however, I spend the next several days licking a finger, bending down, and picking up that bastardly little piece of nothing that has the audacity to dirty my floor. WTH?

When the above has not taken place for a bit, (the cleaning), and there’s some dastardly pieces of dust, or what-have-you, on the floor, well, so be it. We are both able to walk over it, again, and again. Without much remorse.

Now that we are eating better, the increased energy has me doing the laundry in such a way that I wash, hang to dry, fold when dry, and actually put away said clean clothes.

Okay that last bit wasn’t exactly true. I absolutely hate, with a passion, putting away clothes in this apartment. Seriously, we have so many clothes there’s no place to put them.

We each have 2 large chests of drawers, but can’t seem to find space, or time to put them in the drawers. WTH?

We’re retired; we shouldn’t be having this kind of difficulty. Wash, dry, fold, put away. It shouldn’t be that difficult.

I find that, at the end of the day, when I should be relaxing, and trying to sleep, (right), I still have enough energy to clean one of the other bedrooms, or rearrange the furniture in the living room. Alas, it is, usually, about 1:30 in the morning, and who wants their neighbor rearranging the furniture at that hour?

Regardless, I do manage to get a few things done in a day; not as much as I would like, however, as I am no longer on any schedule, or time clock, (except in my nightmares about work). I can do what I want, when I want, if I want.

That’s all for tonight friends. It’s almost time for me to …….

Not.

Until next we meet, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

There are several Spanish words I’ve learned over the years that I have either great fun with, or much trepidation with when saying them.

Apúrate (a-POO-rah-teh) being my favorite fun word. It means ”hurry up”, or “snap to it”. Isn’t that fun? It rolls off the tongue without hesitation, and gets the point across. Bam. Hurry up. Apúrate.

Federal (feh-theh-RAL), is one of my all time least favorite words to pronounce as the second syllable stumps me every time. The more I say it, repeatedly, however, the easier it is when I’m done abusing my tongue. I try to say it as infrequently as humanly possible.

Pejelagarto- (peh-heh-lah-GAR-toe), another favorite that I learned just recently, while watching an episode of MasterChef Mexico 2015, about foods prehispánico. The pejelagarto, is an amazing “fish”. I won’t explain it all here, but copy, and paste the word, and do a Google search. Look at the photo above, especially at the teeth. Some of the contestants had to clean, and cook the little buggers. No thanks.

Guajolote- (gwah-ho-LO-teh), turkey. I enjoy saying the more difficult to pronounce words, as my father-in-law used to tell me how wonderful my pronunciation was. It was very encouraging to me. Guajolote is, simply, an everyday turkey, like those roasted for the holidays.

Huacolote- (huah-co-LO-teh), is, simply, a beautiful peacock. Similar pronunciation, difficult for us elders to remember the difference, but still fun to pronounce.

I suppose that should be all of the fun words to explain to you folks for today. Not to worry, however, as I will continue to update, and educate those of you that are interested in “fun words”, as I find them.

I will let you get back to your everyday lives. I hope you are enjoying said lives, as we are here.

Until next we meet, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

There are subtle differences in the different brands of Brandy that we drink.

I have discovered one tonight.

For the last little while we have been drinking the Presidente brand, but the type of Presidente has been Classico. Most recently I have switched to the type called Solera.

What a difference.

I don’t know if Ivan has discovered it yet, but a few weeks ago, I squirreled away about 6 ounces of the Classico, just for experimental purposes. 😉

For the last 3, maybe 4 months, we have been enjoying the Solera on the weekend evenings. Smooth, oaky flavored, easy to go to sleep with, and sleep all night. Yay!!

Tonight, however, I drank the 6 ounces of the Classico, and it was like taking amphetamines.

I cleaned the bathroom in our room, and am contemplating cleaning the kitchen in a few minutes. No wonder I haven’t been able to sleep at night!!!

Well, I’m stuck with it for tonight, so I guess I’ll try to clean the kitchen quietly, with the lights dimmed, and no vacuum to sweep the floor. Damn. Going to have to use the broom.

Until next we meet, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

The other night, when I looked down on my lap, my new nightgown showed that I’m no longer 14 months pregnant.

Room, in my nightgown!!!!

Seriously, I have inches in which to breathe.

It’s been at least a year, maybe 2, since last I had that.

This may not seem like much to any of you reading this, but it is very important to me.

I have said in a recent post, my lower legs, ankles, and feet have been too swollen to move much, so I have become extremely sedate. Since then, my right foot became so painful that I thought I had broken it, when it wasn’t actually.

Now that the weight is slowly coming off, the swelling in my legs is less; not completely gone, but less. The amount of belly sitting on my thighs has decreased exponentially (don’t you just love that word? I sure do.), and the pain in my feet is almost nonexistent. Thank you NOOM. And, thank you exercises.

Again, I am going to say that I will NEVER, EVER allow myself to get so fat. This has been a horrible waste of time, trying to undo what I have allowed to happen. It has brought my world to an almost stand still. Never again.

On that note, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

Post script: on this 14th day of October, (at the time of this PS), I am still exercising every evening, so it’s been 16 days, (no Sundays), of continuous exercising. I’m still at it. Not a lot of outward change, but definite inward changes being felt. Plus, a ton of low back discomfort.

Nothing like a wonderful, loud thunderstorm to make me relax, and be at peace.

We have had a bit of rain, off, and on, over the past few weeks, and I absolutely love it when it thunders. Not much fun when the electricity goes out, but who can quibble over such piddling details?

Not me, certainly.

As long as I can hear it rain, then claps of thunder that rumble on, and on; what more can a human ask?

Now, if those bitches would leave me alone I’d be in paradise. Which bitches, you ask? The no-see-ums. They don’t seem to be bothering anyone else that I know, so what’s so wonderful about me?

Nothing. But they bite me just the same. Here are a few examples. And, for those of you who have never had bites from no-see-um females, let me impart a few facts.

1: the bites are various sized clumps of red, raised pustules that burn, itch, and become increasingly more painful, and itchy over the first week!!!

2: they, evidently, like a warm, moist clime Well, duh! I try to keep the bedroom cool, as cold as I am able, but he prefers it a bit warmer. I sweat. All night. Even with our sliding window open close to the max. (24”+).

3: after the first horrendous week, the lumps continue to itch, if touched, and slowly, and I mean slowly, turn to a dark red, scab up, but begin to itch again at week 3.

While I recover from these bites, I hope you are having a wonderful fall season. Until next we meet, stay happy, healthy, and safe. Wash, cover, and protect yourselves.

Post script: they struck again the other night. Just when I thought it was safe…..