Friday, January 28, 2011

“Possum Philosophy: Happy Birthday, little sister! - Southwest Virginia Today” plus 1 more

“Possum Philosophy: Happy Birthday, little sister! - Southwest Virginia Today” plus 1 more


Possum Philosophy: Happy Birthday, little sister! - Southwest Virginia Today

Posted: 28 Jan 2011 02:16 PM PST

By ROBERT CAHILL/Columnist

This coming Monday, Jan 31, my sister will celebrate her birthday. As a Southern gentleman, I will refrain from mentioning any numbers (that and out of fear she might administer an old-fashioned butt-whuppin' to me if I did).
I have never had any trouble remembering her birthday. It comes exactly two days before mine. I remember the day she was born too. I remember both my brothers' birthdays as well, the date that is. However, I cannot tell you a thing about the actual day of their births.
I remember the day of her birth well because Mom and my aunts had planned a big party for me. She had invited a bunch of my friends. She was going to make a special cake, and just all sorts of good stuff was planned. Hey, at 6 years old it didn't take a lot back then to seem really exciting. Then out of nowhere, Dad and Mom bundled my little brother, Rusty, then an infant, and me. They dropped us off at my Grandmother Smith's and took off. It was only later I learned they were headed to the hospital.
I was happy to be at my grandmother's. I always enjoyed visiting there. As the first grandchild on that side of my family, I occupied a lofty position. At least that's what I thought. My aunts always had something in mind to occupy my time there. And believe me they were an entertaining bunch. They loved to have me visit. I guess I was kind of the pet monkey they never had.
That day everyone was anticipating a telephone call. Just as a watched pot never boils, a watched telephone never rings, at least not with the call one is awaiting. The telephone then was one of the old black rotary-dial models. It sat between the living room and the dining room in a small alcove just inside the living room. This amazes me; I can remember details such as where the telephone sat in a room I have not entered in well over 40 years, yet I can't remember things like the amount I paid for a purchase at a local store yesterday afternoon.
For the younger of you readers, back then, most telephones in Saltville were on a "party-line." Several folks' telephones used the same line to transmit their calls. One usually picked up their phone and listened to make sure no one else was using it at the time. Some folks were known to continue listening. I suppose this was the forerunner of today's conference calls—without the prior notification of call time and such. I've heard stories of such calls having, well let's just say "interesting" results. Things like neighbors discussing, unkindly, the unannounced listener, unaware the topic of conversation was on the line with them.
Everyone seemed to be on edge that day, awaiting a call. I knew in an almost 6-year-old way what was coming down, but I did not actually anticipate the results.
As the first child, I had been the apple of Dad's eye. He took me everywhere with him. I, in turn, worshipped him. I wanted to be like him, even to look just like him. My dad had thick, coal-black hair. At that time I had light blonde hair. It would eventually darken but never to hair as black as Dad grew.
Finally, the telephone rang. It was "the call," the one all the adults had been so antsy about. It was my Dad, calling to let everyone know it was a done deal. My Mom had had a baby, and it was a… girl. I was surprised. I was barely adjusted to that already aggravating brother I had, and frankly I thought that was more than enough, but she just had to go off and have a girl. Then the news grew even worse. Dad went into a lengthy (and to an almost 6-year-old boy rather sickening) description of every little detail of what his daughter looked like, like every little thing about the imp was just absolutely perfect. I was only half-listening as my Grandmother Bessie relayed the information to all the relatives in the room. (No speaker phones back then either.)
Then it came out, the one thing that really bothered me. When Dad finally got around to her hair, he apparently announced with great zeal that his daughter, Cecelia Lynn, had thick coal-black hair, just like him. I was devastated. How dare this interloper come along and grow black hair like MY dad. (It really had not quite settled in that he was her Dad too.)
As if that wasn't bad enough, my aunts started telling him to tell Mom not to worry, they would take care of my birthday party. My party, my very-important-to-me-anyway party, celebrating my sixth birthday. That's when it dawned on me.
Unlike today when they practically have drive-through deliveries, almost in and out the same day, hospitals kept mother and child for several days, seems like it was about 10 days.
My Mom wasn't going to be around for my birthday party; she wasn't going to be around for my birthday. Sure, my aunts would be there, and they were always a lot of fun. But my Mom would not be there and to a 6-year-old kid that was pretty important. Yeah, we had the party. Of course, my aunts did a good job of conducting my party even down to the special cake, chocolate with blue (my favorite color) icing. Lots of my friends were there, and we had lots of fun. But when it was over, the realization sank in, Mom would be in the hospital for a long time, or at least it seemed that way to me.
At that point in time, T.K. McKee Hospital, like most hospitals, would not allow children under 15 to visit the maternity ward, something to do with spreading childhood diseases. However, my Dad had several good friends who were nurses at the hospital. Later that evening, after normal visiting hours, Dad took me along, and we drove up to the hospital. We even smuggled my Mom a piece of my birthday cake. The nurses gave the all-clear sign, and dad took me up to the maternity ward and hustled me into Mom's room. She looked tired but she smiled, and I automatically felt better. My Mom's smile could do that.
As to my sister, if memory serves correctly, they brought this tiny birthday-spoiling brat into Mom's room while we were there, no doubt also against regulations. (I wasn't much impressed; heck, I had had to go through that just a little over a year earlier with my brother Rusty.) But she wasn't the aggravation I expected either.
I had no idea she would eventually become the wonderful, caring person that she is. She is not only my sister, who watches over me and always worries about me and her other two brothers constantly, she also is a highly intelligent, artistic, talented person who is one of my best friends. So Happy Birthday Cecelia Lynn. I wish you all the joy in the world, vastly improved health in the year to come, and many, many more birthdays to enjoy as well. 

A freelance journalist, Robert "Rocky" Cahill writes regularly for the News & Messenger. His Possum Philosophy column appears in each Saturday edition. 

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Philosophy to Launch Keep the Peace Skincare Collection - StyleList

Posted: 28 Jan 2011 12:50 PM PST

Philosophy Keep the Peace Super Soothing Moisturizer

Philosophy Keep the Peace Super Soothing Moisturizer. Courtesy of Philosophy

If you're tired of doing battle with your skin, Philosophy suggests you wave the white flag.

Set to launch in March, the skincare brand's coyly named Keep the Peace collection will target the flushed red rawness of sensitive, stressed and overworked skin.

"Just using a barrier of moisture doesn't work for the skin. You need a formula that will allow the good nutrients to flow in, and the bad the stuff to flow out," says Robin White, director of international education at Philosophy.

"These are products you can reach for when you feel like your skin is two sizes too small for your face," adds White.

Featuring a serum, moisturizer, mask and color-correcting tinted moisturizer, the products calm skin with ingredients like magnolia bark and date-seed extracts, Vitamins C and E, and soybean.

Lavender is used for its holistic soothing properties, as well as to provide a very light and "clean" scent to the otherwise unscented line of products.

After testing the cushion-soft formulas firsthand, our favorite standout is the instant-relief mask. Green montmorillonite clay is mixed with a megadose of glycerin for the closest thing to a spa facial mask we've experienced at home.

Philosophy Keep the Peace Super Soothing Instant Relief Mask, Serum and Protective Color Corrector SPF 20

Philosophy Keep the Peace Super Soothing Instant Relief Mask, Serum and Protective Color Corrector SPF 20. Courtesy of Philosophy

The mask doesn't harden like traditional clay masks do, but stays supple and moist to cocoon skin with phospholipids and omega-3s.

Another noteworthy product is the super-soothing serum, which contains no water. Instead, the light mix is lipid based, allowing it to penetrate the skin's natural lipid barrier more fluidly, so that skin readily accepts moisture.

While the product packaging can't specifically state it's for rosacea use, we hear the often flushed red skin of sufferers has experienced positive results.

Look for the entire collection to launch exclusively at Ulta and philosophy.com in March, and then branch out to other retailers like Sephora in April. Products will retail from $30 for the protective color corrector with SPF 20 to $40 for the instant-relief mask.

We say it's time to sign a peace treaty with your skin.

And if you want to have smooth, glowing skin at every stage of life, check out our anti-aging tips for every age bracket.

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