Before I begin, I want to say that I have no problem with other people’s body size. If that is a life-choice, wonderful. I don’t think less of anyone because of their body shape. We all have our comfort zones.

This rant is ONLY about me. I am accustomed to looking a certain way. That image of myself ties in with a zillion neuron’s that connect to my sense of well-being.

Over the years, of course I have adjusted that comfort image a little. I weighed 98 pounds when I was first married at eighteen. I crept up to 110 and stayed there until a  hysterectomy in my late thirties, when it shot up to 120. That’s where I stayed—until recently. I definitely don’t want to go back to 98 pounds, but 125 would be good. It will be perfect, in fact.

For centuries, or so it seems, I have been preaching from the food pulpit that diets don’t work. I still believe that, but as age creeps up on my A$$ and my metabolism goes equally south, I find myself in a dilemma. My life has taught me the valuable lesson of eating Real Food instead pretenders-of-food, for health and keeping the weight off, but now I see that sometimes it isn’t enough, especially for women of a certain ripeness.

I usually write about my whacky life and this is probably a detour from that, but not completely. Although I have lived the life unusual, it has not been without come-uppance karma. My childhood of the five food groups—sugary, salty, crunchy, greasy, and gooey, plus my early adult life of partying, drinking, smoking, and, well other stuff,  left its toll. One of them was something that seems to be catching up to a lot of us—Gluten allergy and intolerance.

According to people who track this sort of thing, Gluten intolerance is rampant. Just take a look at Amazon's offering for cookbooks and you'll see a lot of gluten free titles. Search "Gluten free" on Amazon and you come up with thousands of titles.

I've read that many people don't even know what's wrong with them, they just feel aweful, have rashes, migraines, digestive problems, joint pain, weakness, depression, and a host of other symptoms. The lucky ones figure out that they have a problem with gluten or wheat—no drugs or surgery required.

Anita Burns--

Most everyone reading this knows that my mother died last month, and that my beautiful kitty Pumpkin also went to that giant catnip mouse in the sky. I have another kitty, Elmer. He has been a constant in my life for a very long time. He is close to twenty now and has outlived a whole lotta cats that have come and gone from our care.

We adopted Elmer from a cardboard box full of kittens that was being watched over by a little boy and his mother. When I picked up a tiny black and white kitten, the boy said, "Please take him. He's the runt and no one else wanted him." Well that tugged at my heart too much and I had to bring him home. He was barely old enough to be away from his mother, his claws didn't even contract yet. But here he was a handful of cuteness, sitting in my lap all the way home.

I had another cat then, Elsie. She was old, crotchety, and set in her ways. Her companion, Isis, had a tragic end when she escaped the house and ran right into a pack of Coyotes. Elsie had been alone for several years.

To Elsie, Elmer was the interloper. It was so amazing to see his tiny little back arch up as he stood on tippy toes and bravely hissed at this gigantic old queen who was showing her disapproval at his arrival. So I scooped him up and we went into the bedroom, door shut. In the bathroom, I placed a litter box next my big, old ball and claw bathtub but he was too small to climb into it, so I folded a towel to act as a step. He only needed a little prompting to know exactly what to do.

Anita Burns

This is the first Messenger update to focus on Books, Media, and Our Favorite Things. I hope you enjoy our offerings. I receive incredible books each month from so many publishers. It's my wish that the reviews we include here will be helpful in letting you make informed choices about what to you want to read, watch, and listen to. 

The world is changing, and although I am sure that printed books aren't going away, more and more bookstores are closing due to the fact that an increasing number of people are ordering their books online and downloading their music instead of buying CDs. Movies are also increasingly downloaded. 

Now, I know that many of you are computer illiterate or afraid of them, or just never got around to figuring them out. Nevertheless, It is and always has been true that when something is cheaper, easier to get or operate, and more convenient, it will dominate the market. 

I know I've been on a political rant lately. The conservative war on women just got my hackles up. But I can take only so much intensity before I just say, F&*$k it and turn my attention to something that won't raise my blood pressure so much. Oh, I'm still doing what I can to turn the tide of destruction of all that we have fought so hard for as women, but I'm taking an anger break and will continue to fight with my vote, plus spread the word via social media. In the meantime, I am focusing on something else dear to my heart, REAL FOOD COOKING.

I have put aside my great American Novel for a bit and am concentrating on something I have wanted to write for a long time—cook books, starting with my favorite goodie of all all time, home-made Bread. Home made bread is so sublime that I hate it when I'm too busy to bake and have to buy my bread. Right now, my house smells amazing because I am testing bread recipes for the book. The only problem is it goes so fast I only get a slice or two before I am staring at a deflated, empty bread bag populated with lonely crumbs.

Hypnosis, under many different names, has been around since before the Pharaohs. It has been used as a cure all, mystical rite, entertainment, and forbidden magical tool. Hypnosis has been revered and feared in cycle after cycle throughout the centuries. In the 1800's hypnosis gained recognition from the medical profession as a safe anesthesia. But it was time consuming to use and didn't work for everyone. With the advent of ether, hypnosis fell into disuse. Magicians and showmen began using it for entertainment, and hypnosis lost credibility as a therapeutic and medical tool. Some professionals continued to use hypnosis successfully, but mainly it was mystics and spiritual seekers who continued to use hypnosis as a tool for growth and  self help. The state of hypnosis often allows a clearer channel to the higher self.