egg whites, they’re not just for eating

Lilian, my friend in Malta, forwards information that simply has to be passed along. Will we ever need to use egg whites in this way? One never knows, does one?

The story:

*A young man sprinkling his lawn and bushes with
pesticides wanted to check the contents of the barrel to see how much
pesticide remained in it. He raised the cover and lit his lighter; the
vapors ignited and engulfed him. He jumped from his truck, screaming..*
*His neighbor came out of her house with a dozen eggs and a bowl
yelling: “bring me some more eggs!”* *She broke them, separating the
whites from the yolks.* *The neighbor woman helped her to apply the
whites onto the young man’s face.* *When the ambulance arrived and the
EMTs saw the young man, they asked who had done this. Everyone pointed to
the lady in charge. They congratulated her and said: “You have saved his
face.” By the end of the summer, the young man brought the lady a bouquet
of roses to thank her. His face was like a baby’s skin. * *A Healing
Miracle for Burns:*

*Keep in mind this treatment of burns is being included in
teaching beginner fireman.* *First Aid consists of first spraying cold
water on the affected area until the heat is reduced which stops the
continued burning of all layers of the skin.* *Then**, spread the egg
whites onto the affected area.* *One woman burned a large part of
her hand with boiling water. In spite of the pain, she ran cold faucet
water on her hand, separated 2 egg whites from the yolks, beat them
slightly and dipped her hand in the solution. The whites then dried and
formed a protective layer.* *She later learned that the egg white
is a natural collagen and continued during at least one hour to apply
layer upon layer of beaten egg white. By afternoon she no longer felt any
pain and the next day there was hardly a trace of the burn.* *10 days
later, no trace was left at all and her skin had regained its normal
color. The burned area was totally regenerated thanks to the collagen in
the egg whites, a placenta full of vitamins.* *Since this information
could be helpful to everyone: Won’t you please pass it on?*



On a very HOT and HUMID 99 degree day last month the train I was scheduled to take was 90 minutes late. The three Amtrak employees at the counter couldn’t agree on the reason it was late or exactly when it was coming. Okay.

And so the train came and we ticket holders lined up and followed a uniformed person to a particular car where a conductor waited to give us our assigned seat number. After everyone was settled in, I realized it was COLD! in the train. I looked at the the woman across from me bundled in a blanket, and noticed that other passengers were wearing hooded sweatshirts. When the conductor passed by again I asked the reason for such a COLD train. She said it was frigid (that word didn’t help any) because there’s a flaw in the design, the thermometer was put outside the train. Okay.

Then she announced the reason for the train’s lateness. She said it had to move very slowly coming from Florida because when it’s an extremely hot day, a fire could start on the tracks. We’ll continue at a slow pace, she said. Okay.

I brought no lunch, so I went to the snack bar car hoping that the food had improved since the last time I ordered food on an Amtrak train. There was a limited sandwich selection, I chose the one that might have possibilities. The woman behind the counter said because of customer complaints she put all those sandwiches away. Okay.

The snack bar car was full, maybe because it was warmer there than anywhere else (warmer, not warm). Finally I returned to the COLD car. When the conductor passed I asked whether there was any place on the train warmer than the car we’re in now? She said I could try to find that place when we reached Washington. Okay.

The woman sitting behind me tapped my shoulder and asked if I’d like to wear her sweatshirt and scarf. She had on a jacket. I am forever grateful to her because after mentally scanning my suitcase, I accepted that it held nothing to warm a body.

As we approached Washington, the conductor announced, “If you get off this train and go upstairs, remember one thing: the train didn’t leave you; you left the train.” She repeated this many times. And so I concluded that quite a few people are left behind. There was at least a 45 minute wait in DC while the train changed from diesel to electric. The train is completely stopped, lights are off, passengers are walking on the platform, or standing inside – there’s plenty of time to do nothing during the wait. Time to leave DC.

Finally, my stop. The conductor sings as she says goodbye. And as I walk from the train to the station a tad bit hungry and a little cold, thinking that it could have been an awfully unpleasant train ride. That didn’t happen though because of a very witty conductor who never let up, and, I’ll generalize and say, the best group of fellow passengers anywhere.

There’s something about train traveling that’s soothing. I’ve noticed that passengers come on trains with their own kind of feeling, and the feeling depends on the place where they’re boarding. For instance, some people who board at Penn Station in Manhattan tend to bring into the train a rather tense energy. It’s not until they’ve settled in, loosened their clothing, taken out a laptop, magazine, book, notepad, reclined their seat to rest, or taken out a snack quickly bought that that nervous energy slowly dissipates, and they can breathe a sign of relief.

Ticket please.

A lovely site that promotes beauty inside, outside, and around you – is an exciting site that guides people to innovative news and new products for revitalizing skin and body. This week they go behind the beauty scene with the director, and the writer, of the short film “The Retreat” This past weekend “The Retreat” received Boston International Film Festival’s award for “Indie Soul Special Recognition.” The film also had a screening at The Big Apple Film Festival 2010, and the NYC Downtown Short Film Festival 2011. Soon it will have another screening at the Staten Island Film Festival 2011.

I hope you enjoy the article. Those at are interested in knowing what you think about their article, along with the questions and answers, and the way they have of handling a busy lifestyle in the entertainment industry. They are open to your comments.

park slope, brooklyn

I have a simple question. First, the reason for the simple question. Last week in Park Slope, Brooklyn it was impossible to not notice mothers, fathers, and caregivers strolling babies. That’s fine; Park Slope is an almost ideal place for families. And, at the same time, a wonderful place for people of all ages on their own, or not.

It’s an etiquette fact that pedestrians stay on their right side. Understandably, in Manhattan it’s almost impossible to keep to that etiquette rule as it gets tricky because of the sheer number of people. When Manhattan is at its busiest it’s often necessary to play a little game of side-stepping.

Park Slope, however, should be very different. People are wanting a more laid back lifestyle from their next door neighbor, Manhattan. Park Slope suggests a stress free environment, and pure creativity in the form of small clothing shops (many by Brooklyn designers), consignment stores, exciting new small restaurants, take-away speciality food places, pottery, furniture, and painting workshops, wonderful small gift shops, the Brooklyn Museum, co-op gardens, the Botanical Garden, an easy ride to ever-evolving Coney Island, and green and gorgeous-looking Prospect Park for everyone’s pleasure, and that’s a partial list of goodies.

Now the simple questions: Why do people strolling carriages in Park Slope think it’s all right to push two (or three) side-by-side so that no one can pass from the back, or from the opposite direction? And why should a pedestrian who’s walking toward someone who’s pushing a carriage as if in a race, be required to quickly step to the side to let the serious pusher pass? Strolling with baby in a Park Slope setting should be, could be, nice.

They’re simple questions, maybe so simple that it’s not worth the time. But wait, there are a few important matters to consider: respect for other people, awareness of one’s surroundings, and teaching a toddler how to behave in public. Let the people pass; do it graciously, and don’t stress, enjoy the time with the little one.
The following website with its interesting name has a lot to offer:

Now to change the subject . . . have an extraordinary day everyone!

* * * * * * *

“To know how to live is my trade and my art.” – Michel De Montaigne

“The moment your attention turns to the now you feel a presence, a stillness, a peace.” -Eckhart Tolle

“I live for every present moment and don’t think about the future.” -Henry Schliemann (from the book The Greek Treasure by Irving Stone)

“May I always be in the right place at the right time to do as much good as possible.” -Raymon Grace

a new yorker

If you live in Manhattan long enough you easily become a food snob. And often you’ll hear a New Yorker say that the pizza, the bagels, the coffee shops, the fine dining are better in Manhattan than anywhere else . . . in the world. Of course, many people would like to argue this point, but the truth is that it’s useless to argue this point with a Manhattanite. Somehow in the course of living in Manhattan, a person slowly becomes brainwashed. I’ve seen it happen time and time again. In fact, if you argue the point long enough, you’ll be treated to another list of what’s “better in New York than anywhere else.” I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but that it’s rather peculiar, and, at the same time, funny. Funny because a New Yorker takes it all so seriously. How do I know? I know because I was there once upon a time, and I understand how it all happens

When a New Yorker travels almost invariably someone can say without hesitation that that person is from New York because there’s an edge one develops after living there a while. It’s not good; it’s not bad. It just is. I’ve heard that it takes a good two weeks for a New Yorker to calm down when away on vacation.

Than again, as I think more on this subject, it’s certainly true that things have changed, and the category of food snob has widened to include many other cities — large and small. Indeed, New Yorkers, move over and make room for the others.

And enjoy the day.

it’s raining. it’s pouring. . . .

Early evening today I was caught in a rainstorm. As I walked I passed people on every block, mostly without umbrellas, either going to or coming from the Benjamin Franklin Parkway. Suddenly I noticed a very different feeling about the rain and the people. No one was minding that they were getting soaked. No one was rushing to find shelter, or hurrying to their next location. All were walking as though the sun was brightly shining and cars were not splashing when passing. I liked the feeling. Walking in the rain and getting soaked never happened in quite that way for me before. Stuart Wilde once wrote, “If it’s raining, do rain.” Once you’re in that mindset; it’s easy. When I entered the building where I live, someone was leaving. She looked at my shoes and soaked pants stuck to my legs decorated by the wind with leaves and tiny white petals, and she turned around and headed for the elevator. I guess she didn’t want to do rain.

The worst storm I was ever in was in Panama, in the mountains of beautiful Boquete. Rainstorms there rarely announce themselves: one minute you’re basking in the sun; the next minute you’re drenched through and through. No matter, the sun is suddenly shining, and soon everything is dry. That one worst rainstorm with thunder deep in the mountains left me gasping, the road quickly flooded, and buckets of water poured down unrelentingly. It seemed almost like a joke to have been caught in such a downpour.

Then again, I was walking to a Bed & Breakfast place in Ireland when I was almost blown away into Galway Bay. It was the loneliest rainstorm I’d ever encountered. Ever so quickly darkness was everywhere, the Bay became rough, the rains descended unmercifully, and the winds came. No one was around, and there was nothing to hang onto.

These rainstorms taught me to laugh because sometimes you can be in the most ridiculous situations, and there’s nothing to do but laugh.

park slope, brooklyn

Every so often I spend time in Brooklyn because Sumi, Toshi, and Sophie are there, and Emi comes whenever she can. Park Slope is a haven for raising children in a fairly stressless environment. Big chain stores haven’t found Park Slope. Thank God! Small restaurants, friendly charming cafes, small specialty clothing shops, alongside the existing excellent restaurants and shops, are opening. I’m beginning to realize that there are a lot of creative people living in Brooklyn.

When I think of Park Slope, Brooklyn I think of “It takes a village. . .” because the support is there for families – there are many child-friendly restaurants and cafes (and they really are that), entertainment for children, bookshops, small toy stores having toys mom and dad played with, friendly, helpful neighbors, and lots of character. And it has lovely Prospect Park.

Sometimes I feel a pang of sorts for the long-time residents who are seeing an influx of Manhattanites, and people from other areas, enter their what was once a rather quiet and private Park Slope. But then the pang disappears because that’s life, and the same thing is happening in Manhattan. Only in Manhattan it takes place just about every decade.

When the subway stops at the Park Slope station, and passengers climb the steps leading to the outside world, there’s a feeling of relief to see Park Slope. The stress of Manhattan can now be shed, a deep breath can be taken, no one scrambles to rush ahead of another, or to cut in front within inches of another. Definitely it’s a life lived with thoughtfulness, and this thoughtfulness tends to trickle into many other areas.

This is not to say that people in Manhattan are not thoughtful. No. It’s just that the extremely high energy can push anyone off center if they’re not mindful of the ease at which this can happen. I will always keep my love affair with Manhattan intact. It’s similar to any love affair though – there are always changes one would like to make, if one only could.

african bird cayenne and a coffee wand

I have been hearing that African Bird Cayenne is the best quality of any cayenne that can be bought. It is not easy to find. After calling around the Philadelphia area, I was told Penn Herb is the place to check. I did, and it is true. There is a lot on their website, and it looks all good. Over three generations have operated this worldwide company, and I bet the quality is excellent. Initially, I thought things had to be ordered online, however, the website lists two retail stores in Philadelphia.

When checking out the Penn Herb website (highly recommended), I found a link advertising a coffee wand which seemed like the perfect gift for a coffee lover. I was curious. Well, may I say that is very special.

Perhaps you will think so too.

a cup of coffee

The decision to drink coffee doesn’t come easily to some people. All the research and news about caffein in coffee, and the limiting of it to three cups, bring anxiety to those who can’t live with it and can’t live without it. Other people couldn’t care less, they just want it to taste really good. Still others will drink any kind from anywhere as long as it’s called coffee.

When I see people walking along the street holding a cup of iced or hot coffee, they look as though they’ve just found their best friend. Coffee does that for some people. It’s not the same as holding a bottle of water. And at the train station passengers with only a few minutes to spare before boarding will hurry over to a coffee counter not wanting to board without what’s to be their last cup of the day. They’ll spill some of it running for the train and that’s okay.

Then there are those delightful scenes of people sitting in cafes, often two or more to a table, coffee cups between them. They take small sips as if to prolong the stay, while smiling, conversing, relaxing as though they haven’t a care in the world. And there are people alone in cafes in cities and towns throughout the world scanning a book, a laptop, or a newspaper reaching for a coffee cup, eyes never leaving book, laptop, newspaper – good, sweet moments are these.

A cup of coffee brings pleasure to a lot of people; it would seem the enjoyment of it more than makes up for whatever it is caffein might or might not do to a coffee drinker. So, no matter what the latest research indicates, coffee continues to delight for many different reasons.

joseph at signatures in phila

Cutting hair the right way is an art. Lots of people get paid to cut hair, but there aren’t a lot of people having the passion of their trade, or the vision to produce a hairstyle that goes with their client’s face structure and features. After moving to a new city, there’s always the process of elimination in trying to find someone. After two terrible attempts, and walking around slightly dishelved looking for not wanting to try yet another place, I got lucky on the third attempt with a place called Signatures, and a hairstylist called Joseph in Philadelphia at 116 S 19th Street, (215 567 1456), a few skips from Rittenhouse Square Park.

When you sit in Joseph’s chair, and watch his fingers work their magic on your hair, you get a feeling you’re in the right place with the right person who’s really liking what he does. Should you visit Phila and want someone with patience, skill, and creativity to work wonders with your hair, you might want to step into Signatures and sit in Joseph’s chair.

Before you go, check out It’s strange to have such a wide range of reviews. Life is like that sometimes.