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Just Add Water

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The copy of NZ Woman’s Health I purchased (see yesterday’s blog post) had an interesting article about water and some of the myths people believe about it.

Here are some I found particularly interesting.

1. Bottled water is NOT better than tap water. In most cases tap water is safe to drink and contains minerals such as calcium, magnesium and zinc. It’s actually better if we drink tap water because it means fewer plastic bottles in landfills.

2. We should drink 8 glasses of water per day. No one is sure where this came from. The amount of water we require depends on our size and the type of activities we take part in during the day. Quite a few foods contain water as well so it’s not always necessary to drink glasses and glasses of water.

3. Tea and Coffee cause dehydration. Not true. As long as you don’t drink to excess, tea and coffee actually contain water along with the caffeine. Around five cups or less per day is considered okay.

I try to drink extra glasses of water during the day, but mostly it depends on my day and the availability of restrooms. What goes in invariably comes out!

My hubby often wakes in the small hours of the morning. Whenever he does, he has a glass of water and always brings me one too. I’m always thirsty in the morning so a glass of water is very welcome. Isn’t he well trained?

How much water do you drink each day? Do you like drinking water?

In Trouble Again….

Yes, it’s true. I did a bad, bad thing…according to hubby. He arrived home from golf and spoke to me in a very stern manner.

My transgression?

Socks

My sock sorting skills are below par. To his horror I matched a plain brown sock with a different brown sock that bore a dark brown pattern on one side. And even worse, he didn’t notice until he was at golf in a public place.

Oops!

Personally I thought it was funny, and at a quick glance they did look the same. I have put on two different shoes when I’ve been half asleep and in a hurry to get to work. Luckily I noticed before I walked out the door.

Have you done something like this? Have you left the house in an unmatched state?

Big Feet and Socks

My name is Shelley Munro and I have big feet. Over the years I’ve become used to my big feet–after all, I’m atached to them. I’ve found a great shoe shop that caters for women with big feet. It’s all good, or so you’d think. My problem comes with socks.

My husband keeps stealing my socks. Last year I had lots of socks, but suddenly I have none. My husband has stolen them to wear to work. Once he gets his hands on them, I don’t want them back. If you saw the state of his socks and overalls you’d agree with me!

If I had smaller feet, I could buy pretty pink or lemon socks, ones in lovely pastel colors. I bet hubby wouldn’t steal those. Instead I have to buy socks from the men’s department where I end up with navy blue, white or black socks. These my husband steals. Today I purchased three pairs of socks in shades of green and brown. At least those will stand out in the wash, and I have a hope of getting them back. At the moment hubby grabs every blue and black sock he sees, they land up in his sock drawer and that’s it! I never see them again.

If this new strategy doesn’t work, I’m going to break out my embroidery cottons and sew decorative bands on the top of my socks. We’ll see how hubby likes black socks with hot pink embroidery!

What color socks do you have? Does anyone else have a sock-stealing husband? Does anyone know what happens to the lone socks that go off adventuring in the washing machine or drier, never to be seen again?

Retail Therapy

Happy New Year!

Last week I told Mr. Munro I would like to go shopping on New Year’s day. I backed up the suggestion with additional information, saying the sales were on and I thought it would be quiet.

“Okay,” Mr. Munro said.

“I want to buy some summer clothes. A skirt or something.” I watched him closely, and to his credit, he barely flinched.

This morning he brought me a cup of tea in bed. That was about eight o’clock. Not long after, I wandered into the office. A sort of a hint to tell hubby it was my turn on the computer. I wanted to do a few promo things.

“You should hurry,” he said.

“But it’s only eight and the shops don’t open until ten.”

“We’ll have a coffee. I don’t want to be late and face crowds of people.”

I decided I wouldn’t argue the point and went off to have a shower. Updating my website etc could wait. We arrived before ten but most of the shops were open.

“I think I’ll check Stax first,” I said.

Hubby followed me into the dress shop that happens to be my favorite because everything is NZ made. I looked at a few things and he gave his commentary. I walked down the end of the shop and looked back at Mr. Munro. He was standing by a rack of dresses with his arms folded across his chest and an expression on his face that a wife doesn’t really like to see.

“Don’t fold your arms,” I said. “It’s annoying.” He did a sort of grunt and unfolded his arms.

We moved on and after a coffee, stopped at the next shop on my list.

“What do you think of this?” I demanded.

“Too busy.”

Finally, armed with a couple of outfits I went to the dressing room. I put them on and went out to show hubby. He nodded, which is short-speak for good. I noticed he didn’t cross his arms again. Definite Brownie points. About twenty minutes later we left with two skirts and a top.

“You were very good,” I said to Mr. Munro. “Thank you.”

He grinned and said, “It might have been different if we’d gone to a third shop.”

We stopped at Borders for a while and then to the grocery shop. Mr. Munro enjoys food shopping and he was positively cheerful by the time we left the shopping center.

How is your husband/partner/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend at shopping? Does the experience turn into a nightmare or is it a fun excursion? Who does the grocery shopping in your family?

Contest!

I love my husband. I love cycling. Logic would dictate that cycling with my husband would be lots of fun. In a word–no!

Something about the combination of husband and a bicycle brings out the competitive gene in him. He has to beat me to our destination. Of course, it probably doesn’t help that, at times, I have a competitive streak, too. Some days it doesn’t bother me if he cycles off into the distance, leaving me behind.

Today wasn’t that day. My beloved husband irritated me.

When he cycled off into the distance, I took a shortcut, then I waited for him. He took a long time because he’d gone back to see where I was. He worried that I’d fallen off, which made me feel bad for about…um…two seconds.

Do you have a competitive streak in you? Do you like to win?