I grew up on Southern cooking. My Grandma Kinghorn (Campbells from Kentucky) taught Mom to cook after she married my Dad. Biscuits, gravy, mashed potatoes, fried potatoes and onions, bacon, sausage, fried eggs, fried chicken, warm home made bread, slathered with butter and home made jam, fried bread dough slathered with the same butter and jam, chicken and home made noodles (Mom's were tender as a baby's bottom) roasted beef, pork and home cured ham, pies, cakes and cookies made from recipes of a little of this and a little of that, stored in the cookbook of Mom's mind; fruits and vegetables grown in the garden, extras canned for winter. Every meal was a treat, all three of them each day. I loved it then and I love it now...eating, that is.
I learned to cook the same way as Mom. By the time I was in my forties, all that rich food had caught up with me. On a routine exam at my doctor's office, I was basically told that I had an over abundance of lard running through my veins and needed to start eating like a rabbit. Well, since I only weighed in at about 123 lbs at the time, I didn't take his word as seriously as I should have, giving this new lifestyle only an half-assed attempt. So....by the time my early fifties hit me, the lard had settled in both iliac arteries, just about half an inch below my aorta. This ain't good!
To make a long story short, I ended up with stents in both arteries, making it possible to keep blood flowing to my legs and feet. Kind of important for my line of work. Then, of course, I began the routine of prescriptions to lower my cholesterol (melt the lard) and blood pressure. Now I know these have helped, but I've gained 40 pounds in the process. That one I can't figure out because I don't eat any more than before. In fact, it's more the rabbit routine, leaving me to wonder whether it's the meds, along with the hysterectomy that left me with no hormones and maybe the aging process. Anyway, the bottom line is..I have a circulation problem, which brings me to the subject of 'bloomers'.
Did you know that people with circulation problems shouldn't wear tight fittin' clothes? My current Internist checks the waistband and butt fit of my pants every time I go in for a checkup. Years ago, MaryHell introduced me to the 'boy cut' panties she had found at Nordstroms in Salt Lake City; stretchy all over, but no elastic to cut off the blood flow to my legs..again important. Well, they ain't especially purdy if you get my drift. Since I'm long past the stage of life when I care whether the Fireman prefers lace bikinis, (believe me, men never stop wanting sexy, at any age) these homely bloomers work just fine for me. I just have to tell you though, that I have found something new, again thanks to my baby sister, MaryHell, whose suffers the same fate.
On my last trip to Pasco, where I bought new skivvies for the Fireman, I admit that I also bought skivvies for me. I mean Men's skivvies. The devil (MaryHell) made me do it. They're cotton knit with longer legs and the no open-fly kind. No, they're not the typical boxer type. We giggled and laughed about the 'pouch' and what we supposed to do with it, but went forward anyway, each buying a package of two. I chose a pkg with one blue, gray and black stripe and one plain gray-blue pair. (why is a single skivvie or panty a pair?) We took them home, anxious to see how they would work. They are comfortable, don't ride up, don't roll down over my Ronald Reagan tummy (jelly belly), the 'pouch' is no problem and there is absolutely no feeling of binding anywhere. Plus, they are half the price of my homely 'boys'. I shall buy them again. OK, so now you know my intimates details, but we are friends, are we not?
Yes, indeed, life is good!
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