We have not seen a virus this lethal in our lives, according to many experts. I am self-quarantining as much as possible since I already have an auto-immune issue and protecting myself carefully if I do need to be around others.
With decades of employment and education in preventative health care, I have acquired a great set of tools.
I created my own health plan when faced with an autoimmune disease, and I will stick to it firmly facing a pandemic. You see, my holistic health care plan is already designed to support the body’s own immune system.
I will modify it with additional vitamin C from whole foods, anti-viral herbs, immune boosting teas and foods, along with antiviral wipes and a mask.
For over 10 years, I have followed Dr. MERCOLA and other natural health experts, in addition to decades of my own education and training as a health food store manager and natural product sales executive.
When I managed an alternative health center, I learned of many modalities like massage and yoga that increase the functioning of many body systems and decrease stress.
I grew up in the Town of Babylon on the south shore of Long Island, and I still love spending time there.
Some things have stayed the same. Some have changed for the better!
Family boating tradition continues on the Great South Bay:-) as do beach days at Gilgo and Cedar Beach with high school friends. These days the beach at Cedar is so big they have beach volleyball tournaments, and the Salt Shack provides live music, great food and cocktails.
Venetian Shores in Lindenhurst has live music and cocktails now too, in addition to a child-friendly splash park and senior-friendly seating.
Stay tuned for more adventures and group play dates!
Dr. Joe Dituri was the expert guest on my latest Live Unconventionally TV episode. If you missed the chat with my Floridian friend, you can view it on our YouTube channel or with a search of Live Unconventionally on video on demand page of LTV’s website.
The retired Naval Commander, diving expert, professor and research scientist shared valuable information for all.
Me and the doc go way back to high school on Long Island, and I have visited his Undersea Oxygen Clinic in Tampa, where he is saving lives on a regular basis.
Next up, it is all about the candles and the bees.
Watch me melt and pour aromatherapy beeswax candles, explaining the process and reasoning, and hulahooping as the wax melts.
Tune into the show with any electronic device via livestream at ltveh.org or watch it on television in East Hampton town on channel 20.
I relished the chance to get dressed up and interact with others after being barefoot and secluded in Florida writing my memoirs. I absolutely LOVE vintage and antique finds, as well as the chance to rearrange furniture and home decor.
Thrilled to play in the Sag Harbor Main Street storefront window, I bonded with Pierre, a solid wood French manniquin, named and even written about over the years. Pierre’s outfit changes were no easy feat, and I even got socked in the eye once.
With the U.S. Open bringing clientele and yachts beyond the usual into the waterfront village, including Tiger Woods, the owner suggested a fitting blazer he had at home for Pierre.
“My wife won’t let me wear it, it has been called ‘the douchey jacket,'” he said.
Exhausted from the day of international visitors and dumb heels, I stayed open late for dinner strollers, and returned to my rental around 10:30 p.m.
I barely moved in yet but I had a futon mattress and a dreamy new comforter I couldn’t wait to wrap myself in. I went to turn off my phone, and it rang. It was the shop owner, and my friend.
“Hey Carrie, I am out in my boat with my cousin from Utah and we ran out of gas. Can you come get us?” Randy asked.
Fast forward to next morning, I was running late and it was taking forever to turn left onto 114 so I called my coworker, James.
“I am here. It is unlocked. I got you,” he said.
Then he called back in five minutes.
“There is a guy here wanting the jacket in the window,” he said.
“The douchey jacket?” I confirmed.
He laughed, restrained.
“He is here now, he climbed up into the window, got it off the mannequin and put it on,” he said.
I was not entirely surprised, but I didn’t think it was for sale.
“It is Randy’s. He loves it. You have to call him,” I said.
I was now pulling into the back parking lot for employees, where the man had parked, and I saw James out there with him. He was wearing the jacket. He had dark sunglasses on, too. My goal was to scoot by and get into the bathroom to finish my hair. It was still wet.
“You’re a woman. Can you tell me if these sleeves can be taken out?” the man asked with a distinctive Brooklyn, New York accent.
“Well I AM a woman, but I am not a tailor,” I said.
“I know one, her name is Nancy, and she could answer that question. She is in Southampton,” I told the man.
“Well I am from New York City,” he said curtly.
“Well okay then” I said, excusing myself into the bathroom to primp.
A few minutes later, I heard him looking for me.
“Where did she go?” he asked.
He started to sound very familiar. I assumed it was because he sounded a lot like my father. It was Father’s Day weekend and I missed him.
My father also loved vintage and antique memorabilia, and there was a framed bus roll that had “Coney Island” and “Kings Highway” stops. It made me feel like he was around. My family members rode that bus.
I showed the artwork to the bold man from New York City.
“That’s wrong, Kings Highway is not in Coney Island” he said, not realizing that it was a bus roll, and it was two different spots. I explained and he thought it was cool.
“Would the tailor come here and alter this jacket for me?” he asked, when Randy agreed via telephone to sell it.
“Well, J-Lo has someone come to her yacht for a blow out, so anything is possible,” I told him, as James swiped his card. He made a comment I won’t repeat, and then told James that his coworker liked to talk, as he did.
“Can you come along in my car and show me the way?” he then asked me.
“That’s not happening,” I said, thinking it crazy for a ‘woman’ to consider going off with a demanding stranger while I was supposed to be minding a store. I suggested James as a suitable option, since there were two of us, and no other customers.
I also noted that it was a good possiblity Nancy was busy, on a Saturday morning during Father’s Day weekend, the U.S. Open, and the beginning of summer for those with children.
“Can we call her?” he asked, and I found her number and started talking.
“Can I talk?” he asked, and I handed him the phone gladly.
“Hi Nancy, this is Harvey Keitel,” he said, and I felt like a total moron for not realizing.
“I saw this jacket in the window last night, and I would like to surprise my wife with it. Would you be able to take care of it this morning for me?” he asked.
“I don’t know my way around here,” he said, looking down at his flip phone which had no map app. I tried to explain, but it really was tricky to find.
So I went with him, and the Gemini sun and moon chatted away on the ride.
As we drove over his Sag Harbor bridge, I told Harvey about Jordan Haerter. Then, at the traffic circle I told him about Joey Theinert, pointing to Shelter Island, where a ferry is named for him. I poured my heart out about my memoir, my ex and my father. I told him how it was so hard to live in the Hamptons where people seem to have no idea we are at war. I told him how I cut a lot out of my memoirs.
“Tell the truth” advised the acclaimed actor and former Marine.
He had his jacket altered in superwoman timing and I shared a secret smoothie spot and local tips on Italian food.
“Carrie Ann, I am grinning ear to ear. This could be a documentary, Hanging With Harvey,” he said before he took me back to work. “Let’s get together again,” he said, and I went back to rewrite my memoir.
Despite what viewers see on A & E’s Live PD, there is lots of good, clean fun and flavor to be found in Pasco County, Florida. Some now-famous Pasco Sheriffs were spotted (and thanked) at Hudson’s SunWest Park, an example of family friendly festivities.
It was my first time hearing Rev. B and Funktastic Soul, and I am a fan! I was also a fan of the lobster and crab mac-n-cheese.
With no margaritas on site and the sun shining bright, I had to leave a little early to wet my whistle at Get Hooked Grill, another Hudson gem seen on television for its spear-fishing crew.
“It would be easier,” my mother replied matter-of-factly when I mentioned the option of being married to my career instead of a man this morning.
Another mother figure, my ex-mother-in-law, said something similar, back in those days.
We were watching one of my favorite HBO series, Six Feet Under, and she was particularly fond of the freelance massage therapist who just had a threesome with two beach boys. They walked up to her beach cottage and asked her for a joint, then one thing led to others.
“If I had it to do all over again, I think I would live an unconventional life like Brenda,” my ex-mother-in-law told me, days before she died.
I appreciated her honesty. That conversation inspired the name of my blog.
It made me understand myself. It wasn’t about Brenda’s acts with random beach boys. In addition to my unconventional health views, I want to represent those who choose to forego the 9-5, coupled & kid lifestyles.
It is not easy, and it is not for everybody.
Others often assume I am waiting on a man to feel complete or content. I am not. It was my choice to become single and my decisions have led me to feel happy and healthy.
I enjoy my own company, time with friends and nature, and the abundant opportunities for relaxation, peace, silence, creative thought and expression.
The Live Unconventionally blog hopes to encourage others to follow their instincts, hearts and dreams and to make effective life, health care and relationship choices.
“Our cells know the truth,” according to Sondra Barrett, Ph.D., “our physiology responds to what we’re thinking, including what we don’t want people to know.”
Untold traumas can cause cells to broadcast danger signals that trigger adrenaline and stress hormones. When that stress is sustained, the immune system starts to malfunction.
“When we release the stories and feelings that torment us, our cells respond with great relief and once again become havens of safety,” Dr. Barrett wrote.
“Telling your story may be the most powerful medicine on Earth” says Dr. Lissa Rankin in Mind Over Medicine.
“We all have stories–ongoing and ever-changing–that we tell ourselves to make sense of our lives. They can help us heal and powerfully guide us through life, or just as powerfully, hold us back,” Judith Fertig advised in an article I tore out and put in my ‘to do’ folder back in 2014.
I wrote about the need to release stuffed trauma in a blog post a few years ago but four books finally flew out of me from the deep trenches of my heart.
My memoirs are based on actual events before, during, and after Sept. 11.
My personal thoughts and experiences include life as a law enforcement spouse, as well as Army wife-life at Ft. Campbell, Kentucky and the Air National Guard in Westhampton Beach, New York.
My post-divorce adventures and self-discovery includes dating experiences as well as my career as a journalist on Shelter Island, Sag Harbor and the Hamptons.