This is an example of why the what's the harm argument around herbal remedies is a problem for me:
http://consumerist.com/2010/02/morning-sickness-remedy-found-to-contain-lead-and-arsenic.html
I frequently talk with people who see no harm in using herbal supplements without really knowing much about the actually quality and quantity in the supplement. They say that if it doesn't work, it at least doesn't hurt right? Well as this link shows it can cause harm. Do you really want to ingest lead and arsenic, especially while pregnant? That is the harm. And on a nit picking note, this isn't really an herb, it is actually a mineral made up mostly of fossilized seashells, but it falls into that same loop hole category.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Bike Lust 1
This is the first piece in a series about the bikes that have been important in my life.
The first one I remember well was under the Christmas tree one year. She (all my bikes are she, no idea why) was white and green, with a sparkly vinyl banana seat. She had high handle bars and best of all no training wheels. I don’t remember if I asked Santa for a bike but it was a spectacular surprise to see that shiny fast bike next to the tree.
I spent several summers with that bike, riding through the deep gravel in our yard. There are some very stylish pictures of me in a sun dress and cowboy boots perched happily on that bike. I often rode with my trusted sidekick, Lambchops, a very large sheep I had as a pet, he trotted along dutifully behind me as I pretended my way through a multitude of adventures.
As I got older my mom would drive me to town, and I would be allowed to ride to softball practice and the library by myself. The freedom was intoxicating, just me and my bike with my softball glove on the handlebars. I was trusted to get somewhere on my on and I loved that feeling. I also use to ride up to the corner store to buy candy and comic books. The sense of independence was amazing. That wonderful little bike helped me find that freedom and independence.
The first one I remember well was under the Christmas tree one year. She (all my bikes are she, no idea why) was white and green, with a sparkly vinyl banana seat. She had high handle bars and best of all no training wheels. I don’t remember if I asked Santa for a bike but it was a spectacular surprise to see that shiny fast bike next to the tree.
I spent several summers with that bike, riding through the deep gravel in our yard. There are some very stylish pictures of me in a sun dress and cowboy boots perched happily on that bike. I often rode with my trusted sidekick, Lambchops, a very large sheep I had as a pet, he trotted along dutifully behind me as I pretended my way through a multitude of adventures.
As I got older my mom would drive me to town, and I would be allowed to ride to softball practice and the library by myself. The freedom was intoxicating, just me and my bike with my softball glove on the handlebars. I was trusted to get somewhere on my on and I loved that feeling. I also use to ride up to the corner store to buy candy and comic books. The sense of independence was amazing. That wonderful little bike helped me find that freedom and independence.
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