Blog #12 Thanksgiving - a time to reflect and remember

This is daughter Alicia Magal writing:  My mother Nika awoke this Thanksgiving Day 2014 with many thoughts intertwined - gratitude for her life, family, and blessings, and, in stark contrast, flashbacks to times of hunger, loss, and deprivation.  

I find it nearly impossible to explain all of her memory-connections, but I'll put in a few thought-links so the readers who haven't known Nika for years won't be totally confused. I've also left most of her unique punctuation marks that show how rapidly she thinks and then moves on to the next thought. 

We would appreciate if you would go to her Blog site (http://www.lifebeginsat90.blogspot.com)

and post any comments there, as well as replying to Nika on her email.

Happy Day of Giving Thanks to all our family and friends reading this.

   - Alicia Fleissig Magal.

------

Wow ----- it is  Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, and I am in bed  at 9 a.m. -  something  unheard of.

     

I feel this is the day to remember and be grateful for our good fortune-  not to run with big crowds and buy things in the last minute-  harassed and getting exhausted!!!  Why do people follow the advertising like sheep?

Slowly  got up -  had a delightful  shower (actually love to sit in a tub but at my age cannot get out of it without help), so like everything else it requires a  compromise. 

I feel lucky that the water is hot, and my apartment is warm and cozy, everything works,  and the sun is shining (Sedona, Arizona has mostly sunny days.  I am looking forward  to a delicious  breakfast, my favorite meal of the day. My mouth is watering. Today's spread: fruit, toasted Challah, black European bread, smoked salmon, a soft boiled egg in a Polish decorated ceramic egg cup, special Krakow (my home town) “kielbasa”sausage from the local Sedona Polish Deli, and strong coffee with whipped cream.  Then, to finish with something sweet - delicious Warsaw chocolate (better tasting in my memory from before the war, but still ok).

    

Today I remember my warm and loving family – killed senselessly in the prime of their lives--  and friends. I'm sitting at the computer wearing a white robe given to me by my friend and neighbor Joanie McManus in Palm Beach for many years where I lived in a small townhouse. She had gotten that luxurious robe from her brother who was the manager of an elegant NY hotel.  I am thinking of her with great love ---- it helps wearing the garment she gave me. A sad life this beautiful, talented woman suffered-- not being loved by her mother (or so Joan  remembers) affected her whole life and made it  unhappy.  I tried to pull  her out to enjoy life a little, but it was not easy to make her laugh!  Childhood memories can break us or make us?

Usually by 6 a.m.  I am ready for adventure  and going for a walk-  but not on this Thanksgiving Day 2014.  It is reflection time -  remembering!!! The past coming forward!!!

In 1945  in Oberlangen, Germany,  near Holland, in a prisoner of war camp in the woods all alone... We were the first women prisoners of war (fighting and losing in Warsaw Uprising in 1944).   We had to chop ice to wash ourselves and get ready for some terrible soup three times a day.  No one could, or wanted to, guess what was floating in that soup. Then our sadistic camp director was shooting over our heads so we had to lie down flat to avoid getting hurt.

Nika as nurse in Warsaw 1944

Nika as Maria Zielinska after liberation 1945

   

Strange that the feeling of revenge, and of seeing this terrible war end, gives one power to survive anything. It also helped  being young. 

This is the time under pressure when you get introduced to yourself - who you really are-  weak and complaining under tough circumstances, or strong and tough when necessary to survive and see justice done.  From a spoiled, pampered, protected, young Jewish woman I became a tough fighter, and saw myself trying to find a happy moment every day under even the worst conditions. 

We were hungry, forgotten by the world, or so we thought,  but we believed  that we would be rescued by the Allied forces making progress in Europe in the spring of 1945. We got this news from Russian prisoners who had a hidden radio. Every day they had to work on German farms, and they did not have the food packages from the Red Cross under the Geneva Convention rules that we got. But these packages contained  useless cacao, chocolate, and other stuff nobody likes to eat when so hungry. I was the exchange person in the camp office in charge of receiving the vegetables like onions and potatoes smuggled in every day from the fields by those Russian prisoners, and exchanging them for our sweets, cigarettes, and toiletry liquids which the Russian men drank in lieu of vodka! Now I am so grateful for those vegetables with vitamins.  My teeth had something to chew, and got saved until my old age. Not many were so lucky.

  

Today all this seems very far away, but never forgotten. I taught my darling children, Alicia and Willy, to be grateful for everything and try to help others less fortunate.

Last week Alicia was honored for her philanthropic work.  She is the beloved Rabbi of Sedona. Willy is at the moment speaking to 500 people in Hawaii about alternate retirement (an award which he and his wife Wendy Kohn received as young architects in Boston).  My children and grandchildren are talented, kind, giving people who care about others.  I am glad to see that.

My life is almost over -- I am 94 years old, but how grateful I am that I found so much love and appreciation wherever I speak or travel.

I give a great big Thank You today! We will celebrate together with friends, enjoying turkey with sweet potatoes, cranberries, pumpkin, which were unknown to me in Poland.   

It is time to walk and smile.
Embracing all of you with love!!!!!

     

- Nika Fleissig

Please Read My Blog Here:
http://www.lifebeginsat90.blogspot.com/

Order our book, From Miracle To Miracle: A Story of Survival (via PayPal):
http://www.FromMiracleToMiracle.com

Please view my art here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikafleissig/

Rabbi Alicia Magalwww.jcsvv.org
928 204-1286
"A Jewel of a Shul"

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Mission Statement:
The Jewish Community of Sedona and the Verde Valley is a welcoming, egalitarian, inclusive congregation dedicated to building a link from the past to the future by providing religious, educational, social and cultural experiences. We choose to remain unaffiliated in order to respect and serve the rich diversity of our members and visitors.


You may order my book," From Miracle To Miracle: A Story Of Survival"
(via PayPal): http://www.FromMiracleToMiracle.com

Holiday shopping?... not I! Blog #11

It is the Sunday  before  Thanksgiving,  2014.  Sunny and beautiful  weather out, so I decided  to drive to our Spa - Los Abrigados near Tlaquepaque in Sedona.

  

A month ago I had an unfortunate  accident.  I fell on an uneven cement walkway and was very bruised, bloody and achy, so no swimming or exercising of any sort while I healed,  just  waiting to get better.  Grateful that nothing was broken.  I patiently waited  and today decided to make an appearance at the spa which probably would be filled with people.

      

To my surprise there was no one around except the friendly  employees who waited  to help if needed.

All alone  in big exercise room, alone in the shower and dressing  room on such a day... why?  Ah- I figured it out. This is  the last  chance to go shopping before Thanksgiving!!!!!

     

Started  laughing ---- remembering our travels with my companion Andrew in the late 1980's and '90's all over the world and saying "Now is the time to find all the unusual  gifts for all the holidays - no hurry-  and prices much lower then later.  During the summer I live for four months  in Wellfleet, Cape Cod, which has so many galleries and talented  artists around.  There are always lovely and interesting gifts to chose from for the rest of the year. Something catches my eye and reminds me of a family member or friend who would like it, so I get it and hold on to it, maybe for months. 

   

Imagine-  all the stress and rushing and being tired.  Why wait till the last moment?  Believe me  ----  it will make you  so happy not to be rushing or stressed, but rather just enjoying, swimming, or doing what is fun instead of last minute getting over-priced  presents.

    

Here is a funny example from the very early days of my marriage to Fred Fleissig. He came on some kind of Holiday with a gift to surprise me.....and I really gasped.

Imagine being surprised with a full length  stiff corset (the kind  worn  in the 19th century)  waiting for me, standing up by itself  in the living room!?

 Where on earth  is the saleslady  who dared convince my husband to buy such an atrocity?  

I imagine he was probably  coming home  through Grand Central  Station in NY when   Fred remembered at the very last minute to get a gift for me, and in a hurry to catch his train ride to White Plains, he bought this thing that was waiting for years to find a man in a hurry.

This kind of incident  repeated  itself twice more during the year. I finally asked as kindly as I could muster to save Fred from having to chose presents for me, "Why don’t we make a pact, and I get the money and can choose my own present?” 

  

With a smiling face Fredziu (endearing Polish diminutive) agreed  to do that in the future which lasted 38 years of our marriage, from 1946 until he died in 1984.

   

Everything is  cheaper and you save a lot of aggravation.  Shop off off season.  You will thank me with a smile!!!!

Happy Thanksgiving  at 94  -  enjoying it very much! 

- Nika Fleissig

Please Read My Blog Here:
http://www.lifebeginsat90.blogspot.com/

Order our book, From Miracle To Miracle: A Story of Survival (via PayPal):
http://www.FromMiracleToMiracle.com

Please view my art here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikafleissig/

Role of Grandmother blog #10 Life Begins at Ninety

Coming back from a perfect visit to my grandchildren in Los Angeles, I had time to think: what is the role of a grandmother after 90?

Nika with granddaughter Tali, 7 months pregnant

Nika enjoying visit with grandson Amir Magal (left), granddaughter  Tali Magal, and son Will Fleissig
in Los Angeles, Novembert 2014

 

We are taking up space.  We are using up Social Security.  We are beyond what we used to be – a woman, lover, nurturer, teacher.

What is the point of us, if we are fairly healthy, making any kind of sense?

 

My first thought is that we have to take the time to listen to our grandchildren.  The parents have to make a living and can’t spare that time.  But the growing-up young children need to hear themselves tell about their future plans and dreams.

Someone has to listen.  Who is more perfect for that than a loving grandmother?

 

She can use her experience of a lifetime, to help her grandchildren, or in the community, or cheer up a few people who are not so happy, and so not to feel completely useless here on earth. 

 

Our companions have usually passed away.  We are left alone, but we are really in control of our lives, for the first time --- financially independent, if we are lucky!  And we can help in many ways.

 

Very important, we can also learn new things, even though we thought we knew everything!

Every day I am learning new things, seeing new art, having new ideas, trying different foods.

Whatever we were used to, we have to forget it and try new stuff.  That keeps one young.

 

That eliminates removing myself to a most elegant “retirement” home that is a slow death without any purpose, except eating, sleeping, and keeping doctors happy, and making lots of money for the owners of those homes.

Why not, for half the money, hire help in your own familiar surroundings, amid all the things you’ve assembled all your life?

Why be a complete stranger among all strangers, who are miserable in those homes? Perhaps this works for some people, but I don't relish the thought.

 

I don’t think I’m going to be very popular in certain circles, because most money is made on the growing old population.

 

I also think that when the time comes when you feel you cannot take care of yourself, you have the right to belong to a society that can help you leave this world with dignity.  There is no reason why we have to suffer.  We are entitled to die in dignity.

 

I belong a group called Dignitas, located in Switzerland.  My aunt and cousin also belong.  It believes in dying in dignity, and not to suffer.

By the way, many Swiss people are fighting it and giving the group trouble, just like here.

 

P.S.  I hope that lots of professional people will read this blog and think about how the current situation can be changed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- Nika Fleissig

Please Read My Blog Here:
http://www.lifebeginsat90.blogspot.com/

Order our book, From Miracle To Miracle: A Story of Survival (via PayPal):
http://www.FromMiracleToMiracle.com

Please view my art here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikafleissig/

TRUST YOUR BODY Life Begins at Ninety Blog #9

I discovered  late in life that our body ought to be trusted.  Maybe it does not work for everyone but it works for me. 

 As we age things start to fall apart.

It started long ago... I had to have surgery for a new hip and then few years later a new knee.  They were damaged when I was very young, about 15 years old, when I fell from a man’s bicycle much too high for me to learn to ride.  After those operations for the first time in 75 years my legs were the same length and I didn't need lifts in one shoe.

        

About three years ago the surgeon decided after looking at  the x-ray that my other knee needs to be replaced. We set the date for the operation and then I changed my mind.  

I asked the good doctor if we could wait till I return from my summer place in Wellfleet, Cape Cod, like around October to do it. 

 Every single day during the summer I walked, swam, and did gentle exercises. Somehow that must have strengthened the muscles around the knee which had showed up as bone on bone in the x-rays. 

Nika on her daily walk around the Wellfleet Marina

I returned that October 3 years ago and felt no pain and no discomfort whatsoever. I told the doctor's office that in that case we will wait  till it hurts; then the operation will be necessary.  Now it is 3 years  later... I walk a lot  morning and evening and feel no pain  at all.  I do not argue, but listen to my body.  Whatever happened is a mystery!

The body maybe can find a way to repair itself given more time? 

The same thing happened with my tennis arm which needed an injection every 5 months.  I had very limited movement and constant nagging pain... not terrible, but  I knew I had an aching shoulder.

Last summer in the middle of the night I felt a release of sorts. I cannot describe it better. And now I am using this hand and arm without pain like it never happened. This is now 9 months since the last injection.  We will wait and see what the future holds.

 

So  I escaped two serious operations with painful and long rehab.  I'm so so grateful to have waited and given my body a chance to recuperate.

The x-rays have shown a necessity for an operation, but I decided  to wait, and am I happy!

Many of you had similar discoveries.  Maybe you will let me hear about it?

   

Best wishes --

Baci,

            Nika smiling,  back from a long walk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- Nika Fleissig

Please Read My Blog Here:
http://www.lifebeginsat90.blogspot.com/

Order our book, From Miracle To Miracle: A Story of Survival (via PayPal):
http://www.FromMiracleToMiracle.com

Please view my art here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikafleissig/

#8 Helpful Hints in Troubled Waters - Art as Healing

Nika in her Sedona, Arizona Studio

When I arrived in the USA in 1946 after surviving the horrors of the Holocaust and the brutality of war I would have been depressed and a wreck of a person. However, I got married very quickly, had two children and didn’t take a moment to really reflect on who I was now.

Luckily, during our summer vacation in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, a small village of fisherman and artists on Cape Cod, I found a school for painting, an art form which I never had done before, and something in me responded to the great master Xavier Gonzales.  He asked me if I need to make a living.  I answered, “No, I am a kept woman; I’m married.”  “In that case,” he said, “why don’t you paint?”

That moment changed my life.  I was able to function as a mother and wife in this strange new land by having this outlet of creativity.  Art truly helped me overcome the overwhelming challenges of this new life.  I was basically numb, asking myself “Where am I?” “Who am I”  “What am I doing?”

I was able to concentrate on developing this new skill, totally consuming.  It doesn’t permit you to think of anything else.  I found out that we are all "blind" and that it takes a lifetime to learn how to "see."  Not to copy what is in front of you, but to look carefully at the light, the color, the shadow, and only put down on paper what is the essence. The professor took the time to explain to me what painting is all about.  It is not just what you think you see... it is to learn to observe what is around the object or person that you wish to paint.  Notice the shadows, the tone of warmth, since they are as important as the object itself.   That was a revelation. Retain the essence of the picture and put it down in charcoal, water color, oil paint,whatever the medium.  Each day I would look at the work I had completed the day before and eagerly discovered the mistakes so I could improve on the next project. 

In White Plains, N.Y., where we lived in the winter, I went to the Art Students League in N.Y.C., with much younger students, and learned many different art media – sculpture, woodcut, etchings, oil painting - whatever they offered.  My husband built an extra room upstairs for me to use as a studio.  Before that, I tried to paint in my bedroom, but my daughter would go to school with green paint in her hair, as the brush was next to the palette on the dresser. 

The one medium I haven't yet tried and which fascinates me now is metal sculpture. In my next incarnation, I’d like to be a muscular man who does immense works, with a heavy torch for welding to create enormous sculptures.

Imagine what a pleasure it was for me, years later, to be asked by Tom Eder, one son of the people who introduced me to my husband, to be given one of my paintings as a wedding gift.  They came to my Cape Cod studio and picked out their favorite painting. 

Until Xavier Gonzalez died at the age of 92 I kissed him each time I saw him for the gift of having given me a new, happy life, rather than being resentful, depressed, or lost, which I might well have become.  My advice, if I may share it with you, is do not run for help to a psychiatrist, as most of them at the time such helping professionals needed more help than I did.  You just follow your passion, and try to help yourself, because you know best where it hurts. 

You have to find a new way to start trusting anybody after a trauma and learning to love. Be a “happy survivor” and trust your gut feeling always.

Written by a young 94 year old woman with good working brain and weak limbs ... for how long, who knows?  So make every day count... every MINUTE of every day count.  As long as you feel happy when you wake up in the morning looking forward to the next adventure, you are living!

Nika in her Wellfleet studio cottage

Play Bridge! #7 of Blog: "Life Begins at Ninety"

I love to play bridge.  It is not the losing or winning  really,  it is  meeting strangers from all over the world at any time  day or night. That is, when I play bridge online on my computer. Then I can choose the partners from all over the world who are awake when I am.  The local bridge club meets in the afternoon, when I take a nap, so my brain isn't connected so well.  But very early in the morning, I am sharp, and can choose to play sitting in my living room in my pajamas!

Mostly those who enter the online bridge "room" to play are polite and pleasant, with great sense of humour, but once in a while you get a real”weirdo”  trying to shock. BBO - Bridge Base Online - suspends such people if you bother to report. Imagine some men from Turkey and other far away countries started to flirt with me! I labeled them "enemy," blocked from my table whenever I play. 

   
So even sitting alone at home, one is  entertained for few hours.

We try to exercise our limbs, so how about our brain?  The game well played shows  that in spite of aching bones our head is performing well.  I tell you it is a great pleasure that immediately you know if your partner is kind or egocentric, smart or  dumb, and if they are annoying, one can always  leave.... One click and you are gone!

     
A few years ago I made a good friend playing bridge with a woman named Conny in Holland, and finally she said,  “Why don’t we meet in Europe?"

At that time I still traveled every year  to Europe, and so I decided to visit her in Emmen, Holland, (close to Germany) where there is a very known hospital,one of the  largest in  Europe. Conny’s husband had been a doctor who had survived Japanese occupation  with his parents in Indochina, which had been a Dutch colony. Only 4 children survived – he was one of them. 

Since we did not yet know how to identify each other at the airport, Conny said to me that she would be wearing a yellow coat.  So I answered, "I'll wear a yellow coat too!"   We saw each other and immediately embraced. 

   
Now Conny and I visit each other every year at least once, in Sedona, Arizona, or in Cape Cod.  We play in different tournaments and write email almost  daily -- a really close friendship which started on the computer.

Once  I played  with a man  from Hong Kong, China.  The identifying label above his name read, “I am  kosher.”  Not every day  do you find such a strange combination. He explained during the game: his mother was Jewish and father Chinese,  and he was brought up Catholic.

After playing on and off for 2 years,  I received a little package. I opened the delicate  rice paper, and on it was a lovely painting of roses by a known Chinese woman artist. This was a gift from my Chinese bridge partner.  The note inside read:  “You will enjoy this more then I will, since you are a painter." I had it framed and enjoy looking at it every day. Another bridge connection.

My clever Aunt Ruth told me many years ago-  "Learn bridge! One day you won't be able to play tennis or other sports perhaps, but bridge you can play forever, and it keeps your mind clear. You will never be lonely in old age!!!" 

We somehow never think of ourselves as being old, but suddenly one day  I looked in the mirror and saw my Aunt Munda  (one of Aunt Ruth's seven sisters)...where did I go?

  
Most of my new friends are 20-30 years younger.  I never expected so much fun  and after reaching 90!  Maybe it is not the age, but how alive and open one remains... learning new things!

So I'm telling my own stories on this blog, "Life Begins at Ninety," and I look forward to hearing more stories from my new friends, in person for coffee with brandy and whipped cream, or online. Or maybe you want to be my partner and play bridge?

About Food Blog #6

 The most important activity is eating – we do it every day, several times a day!

I was born in Europe so it is difficult for me to understand how Americans eat. It has baffled me for the last 70 years. 

First and foremost in Poland before World War II we were "too poor" for chemicals so everything was organic, and I thought that is the only way to grow food!  Suddenly at the age of 26 in America, I saw a whole new way of eating and serving food.  The influence of the USA of grabbing junk food has now been introduced all over the world. Imagine seeing a MacDonald’s in France with a line of young people intrigued with the novelty!?  I hope they don’t lose the taste for the true local foods.  It used to be that the whole family sat together for a main meal at 1 or 2 o’clock.  At 4 o’clock there was coffee, tea, and something home baked.  People had a light supper in the evening.  The only observation I can make is never, if one can possibly help it, eat a big meal at night.  It intrudes into your sleep, as the digestion takes place much too late to allow you to have a relaxed night.

The greatest pleasure when I was a child was to come home and smell from a mile away our maid cooking raspberries, or whatever was then in season, in a huge pot, to be put up for the winter.  Pasta was made in the morning, and cooked that same day, not stored on a shelf for months.  Milk and ice were delivered every morning to the house. The French and Italians still go shopping each day for fresh food.  Impossible in America where the fridge and pantry are always full of prepared foods.  I was stunned that I came from a supposedly poor country to the richest country in the world, and yet felt that I had eaten better and lived better before the war than Americans did.  

When I started my family the whole neighborhood  taught me how to shop, helped me to name the foods I wanted to buy and  how to cook them.  I was shocked when I saw a man shopping and carrying a baby.  My father didn’t even know where the kitchen was, and never took care of little children. 

It took years to get used to it that in America the kitchen is the center of the home while in Poland the kitchen was behind two swinging doors and no one went there except on Sunday when the maid was at church and left us stuffed cabbage in the warming oven.  Mother usually supervised everything and taught the country girls who stayed with our family for many years to cook meals the way we liked it.  They really were part of our family and were grateful to have food and be well-treated, unlike their harsh conditions in the country. 

We always went on vacation with our parents to Sopot on the Baltic Sea, near to Gdansk that was alternately German, Polish, and a free port through history, and now Polish again.  That is why I love Cape Cod, where I have come over the past 69 years because of that same kind of ocean air. 

Back to the food... All the vegetables were fresh and cooked that same day.  Nothing frozen or canned. Imagine when I came to the States and everything was frozen or canned, and I saw for the first time someone bite into a raw cauliflower.  Salad? For rabbits.  Cucumber in cream sauce was as close as we came to a salad.  I had to learn how to cook.  When I was first married I looked for a bell under the table.  My husband said, “Who are you going to ring for?”  I had to make adjustments every day as a young mother of little children. They taught me more than I taught them about how to function as a mother in this country. 

Soups have to be hearty and hot!  Remember it was a cold climate in Poland, so that is the kind of soup I had, never a cold soup.  I never drank Coca Cola or sodas.  Yogurt was always being made from starter, sitting on the window sill.  Ice cream was made by hand in a churn. All the compotes and jams were made at home out of fresh, ripe fruit. In Poland we had a milk bar; in America there was no buttermilk, no yogurt. A few years later in the 1950's, Dannon began introducing yogurt.  Slowly other European type foods started to be available in America. Now there is increasing immigration from Hispanic,  Asian, and other countries.  So you can see in the grocery stores more ethnic foods are available. 

It is very difficult to introduce new foods to  young children. They are very conservative with food.  Get them used to a variety of foods when they are young.  In our home I said, “You don’t have to eat it, but you have to take one taste. Give it a try.”  My daughter’s friends thought we had weird foods, like mushrooms, onions and sour cream on pastry shells, and told her years later that our home was very exotic!

We used a fork and knife in the European way, not the fork switched every two seconds from left to right hand. Also, we used a fork and knife even when eating a pear or other fruit.. more civilized it seems to me than grabbing everything with hands. 

Maybe a chicken leg, all right.

Most cakes in America are fluffy and empty tasting.  I love fruit tarts or home made pies with French pastry dough, Viennese cakes which are thin and intense with fruit jam and dark chocolate, Polish babkas, delicious to enjoy one or two bites.  You should only eat something “worth sinning for.”  That is what my clever Aunt Ruth told me, and I abide by that!  Once there was a really first rate pastry shop in Provincetown on Cape Cod, and I praised the pastries by saying, "These are worth sinning for."  Next thing I knew, they used that in their newspaper ads all summer.  The next year no more such pastries, only doughnuts and muffins, the usual fat, sugary desserts.  I asked why he had changed, and the owner replied, “No one appreciated the high quality and this is cheaper to make." 

Now after many years there is one French Bistro in South Wellfleet, and people line up each morning to enjoy the croissants, brioches, fruit tarts and good coffee.  That it is truly worth it!

I have always a warm soup, a good peasant bread - brown, never white, compote from fruits, meat or fish just grilled, simply done with no garlic or spices, and I eat with great relish around noon and then take a nap.  

Never eat in a hurry. Savor every mouthful.  When you are in a hurry, rather don’t eat, and wait till you have time.  That is why many people overeat. They are frustrated.  Food should not be a pacifier, it should be a pleasure.  The most obese people in the world are Americans.  We also ruined Hawaii with that junk food that is fattening and addictive.  In Sedona where I live in the winter, the whole town is very aware of produce being grown organically, and locally if possible.  My fervent wish is that more people will wake up and demand excellent food. 

Now, after ninety years of age, the whole chapter about food changes, because who is boss is not what I like but my colon.  It dictates, if you don’t eat right, you will suffer. You have to figure out what is acceptable and what will get you into instant trouble with your colon.  Nuts, garlic, onion, spicy foods... all give my aging colon a really tough time.

A funny story how I finally understood who is boss!

 ...The Colon of course!

Trying to reach the ladies room at Publics in Palm Beach, I had to give up and throw away my soiled clothes.

I waited for someone to come and buy for me a mumu from the front of the store so I could emerge clothed and get back to my car.

My diet started to emerge... back to baby food... plain food that does not irritate the colon!  You have to be your own nutritionist to survive better.  I love delicious foods so I try to simplify them, everything not spicy and easy to digest.. and I have so far mostly  good luck.  Very little raw food, and if you must have lettuce, then romaine, not the fancy kind with all the stems.  Once in a while you can sin with nuts and onion, etc. and hope that it will be ok, but usually try steamed vegetables mushed.  We are only happy when our stomach is happy..and the feet don’t pinch... that is another chapter (See "Happy Feet").

Then we are a delight.

To summarize: Always eat little but the best, freshest foods. A small piece of aged cheese with good taste, but not that colored wax, which is how American cheese in slices strikes me.  
Very important:  Don’t rush!  Enjoy everything in small portions, but beautifully prepared and served.  If you are alone, invite someone to share the meal so it is more social and friendly. Use your “good china” and real glasses, unless it is a party or picnic-style, then paper plates are fine -- less work and just fun conversation with friends.

Food  - it should be a joy, but not a momentary fix to appease frustration or boredom.

Bon appetit!