Curry Extravaganza-What Low-Carb Looks Like

The makings for a quick beef and veggie curry. Lots of red and green sweet peppers,  cilantro, a bit of top sirloin , sliced onions, garlic, and super fresh shitake mushrooms  cultivated by Montana from my yoga class. In the center, a mound of red curry paste and, out of the photo, canned coconut milk.

When people with weight to spare adopt a low-calorie, low-fat, grain-centered diet, they often can't hack it. They end up giving up because their stomachs growl, they're overcome by cravings, and as they cave to the cravings and frustration, the weight they lost piles back on....and then some. Been there, done that. I think that the low-cal, low-fat diet is pretty much a loser except for the most dedicated and disciplined types—or people who don't really care about food, which is certainly not me! Low-carb is different.


If you read this recent post, you know that 10 years ago I lost 15 pounds when I went into septic shock with a life-threatening infection. Through a series of circumstances (keep reading), I went low-carb, which I've been, more or less, ever since. I'm into a carb "correction"right now, which means I went astray over the holidays, gained a few, and it's time to get back to reality: Carbs, especially refined ones in bread or sweets or those delicious ones in baked potatoes, make me fat. If you're interested in how I learned this, the tale follows.

The veggie/beef curry goes atop wilted spinach for me. Rice is off the table for low-carbers,
  but super-slender PK enjoys his with organic brown basmati rice AND spinach.

When my strength returned after my illness, I really wanted to keep those 15 pounds off, and I thought I knew just how to do it. I munched granola and other “healthy” cereals with skim milk, and ate lots of fruit and veggies, fat-free dairy products, brown rice, homemade whole wheat bread, baked potatoes with cottage cheese,  limited meat, and almost zero fat.
 I bought fat-free everything! Half and half, sour cream. cottage cheese, skim milk, even fat-free bakery products.(What a joke!)  I was addicted to Junior Mints, which were fat-free so harmless, I believed, but I did limit myself to one box daily.
 I thought I was right on top of it, but the number on my scale kept creeping up. One year later, I had regained nearly five pounds eating what I thought was a healthy, well-balanced diet and exercising like crazy. I did not like the trend; in a couple years, I'd be back to where I was before I got sick. 

Peanut sauce! OMG! Recipes below.

By Exercising Like Crazy I Mean
I have been a nut-case exerciser since age 31 when I chucked cigarettes and replaced a killer habit with one that enhances life.  For the past 35 years, including all the time I was gaining a pound or two a year, regular exercise was a priority. Even when I was at top weight—I was the captain of a racewalking team, for crying out loud—the ounces kept accumulating.  I walked 20 to 30 miles a week, many of them with the hip-rolling, feet-blurring manner of racewalking. I was hot-footing my 165+ bulk at a 12-13 minute-mile pace. If you think it is easy to walk a mile of rolling hills in 13 minutes, give it a try. I knew that without vigorous aerobic exercise, I would be a blimp. Oh yes, I did strength training too, and a killer spinning class at the gym. I had an athlete’s resting heart rate of 50 beats per minute. 

Ok. So I almost died. Lost weight as a result. Adopted a low-fat diet to keep it off. Exercised like crazy, and was slowly regaining weight! What the hell?

What Happened Next?
I accidentally got educated about low-carb nutrition. In 2002 I started working with a nurse practitioner

Here's the curry all put together in about a half hour, excluding the peanut sauce.
Delicious! High in protein, all the fiber, vitamins and minerals of veggies,  and packed with flavor.
But  but looowwww in carbs. Recipe below.

who was passionate about women's hormone health and well being and was death on sugar, refined grains, and processed foods. Editing one book for her and being the "with" author on another, was a crash course that changed how I viewed food and fed my family.

Over the course of several months, I learned how to live without bread, rice, Junior Mints etc. etc. PK, the metabolic animal, lost 20 pounds without realizing he was on a diet. He was so worried that he had a hidden cancer, that he saw his doctor!  Weight hoarder that I am, I lost about eight pounds, putting me back on track. I've held more-or-less steady, give or take a few, for the past decade, keeping up the exercising, of course.  My experience made me. for a time, a low-carb proselytiser that induced one of my friends to cover her ears and chant "lalalalalala" when I got on the subject. Now I know that low carb works for me—but not for everybody. More about that in another post. For now, here's how to make a killer curry in a hurry!


Thai Vegetable Beef Red Curry with Spinach and Peanut Sauce
Curry ingredients
1 T vegetable oil (I use unrefined coconut oil)
4 cloves of garlic, minced
1 to 1 1/2 pounds sirloin tip or other tender steak, sliced (could also use chicken or tofu)
6-8 large mushrooms of your choice, sliced
1-2 T red curry paste (I use Mae Ploy Panang Curry Paste, which is a bit hot.) We like hot so I use more.
2 T soy sauce or Thai fish sauce
1 14-ounce can coconut milk
1 red bell pepper, sliced
1 small/medium onion, sliced
1 serrano, jalapeno, or other pepper, minced
2 T fresh cilantro or basil

First get all the ingredients sliced and diced and ready to cook.
Heat the oil over high heat in a wok or large skillet.
Add the garlic and stir fry til fragrant, maybe 30 seconds.
Add the sirloin and stir fry for a couple minutes. Stir in the mushrooms and give the mixture another couple minutes over high heat. (Start with the mushrooms if you like them cooked through.)
Turn off the heat and remove meat and shrooms and set aside in a bowl. You don't want to overcook the steak.
Over medium heat, stir fry the curry paste about 30 seconds, then whisk in the fish sauce or soy sauce and the coconut milk. Fish sauce gives a more authentic Thai flavor.
Add the red bell pepper, onion, and chili. Simmer for for a few minutes, depending upon how crisp you prefer your veggies.
Add beef and mushrooms and accumulated juices. Mix and simmer long enough to heat the meat and shrooms. Serve with lightly steamed spinach (can substitute chard or mild kale) or, for those who are not counting carbs, steamed rice.
Top with heated peanut sauce and fresh basil or cilantro.

Peanut Sauce
Adapted from a recipe in "Authentic Thai Cooking" by Virginia C. Silpakit
1 cup coconut cream (I used coconut milk. Couldn't find coconut cream. I never buy "lite" coconut milk. Why bother?)
2 T red curry paste
2 T Thai fish sauce
2 T Golden Mountain soy sauce (or any soy sauce)
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 cup sugar (I use stevia - not sugar. Non caloric stevia is made from the stevia plant. It comes in powder or liquid form, and is very concentrated. I used less than a teaspoon. Taste and adjust carefully. Splenda can be used in the same proportion as sugar, if you like a sweetener processed with chlorine!
2 T tamarind concentrate (Very important. Can be found in Asian food section of larger markets)
1 tsp lemon juice
4 T peanut butter, smooth or chunky
1 T vegetable oil (peanut or coconut)
1/4 cup water

Heat the oil in a saucepan and stir fry the curry paste til the aromas are released. Add the coconut cream (or milk), sweetener, fish sauce, lemon juice, tamarind, and water. Mix well and boil for about 10 minutes. (I think the boiling is to dissolve the sugar that you're not going to use.) Add the peanut butter and mix well. Taste and adjust seasonings. This would be when to add more sweetener. Simmer for about five minutes.
Peanut sauce can also be used with satay and many other curries. So good!

Ordinary Day, Ordinary Life

January 19, 2012
Awake to NPR's Morning Edition, as usual, around 6:30 a.m. More blah blah blah about the revolting GOP. Good to learn Perry has finally done something smart: drop out before another humiliating debate. Doze. Radio quits at 7:20 a.m. signaling it's time to rise.

Check weight. Moderate low-carb regime makes for about one pound a week loss with little sacrifice. Make decaf. Can't handle leaded. Brew as usual, freshly ground, boiling water passing through a filter into insulated cup. Put teapot on for PK.

Check news online. Historic storm floods, ices, buries-in-snow Washington, parts of Oregon. Look out window. See small-scale flooding in orchard. Rain falling.

 Garden trenches are moats  every winter during prolonged and/or heavy rains.
No big deal. But is problem if crops are planted out there. Only garlic this year.

Marooned trailer will be there for a few months.

Prepare low-carb breakfast. Drag out frozen blackberries. Dump handful into bowl. Microwave on high one minute. Mix in Greek yogurt and a couple shakes of stevia. Top with homemade low-carb flax granola. (recipe below) Check Facebook while eating. See that Chris has survived yet another death-defying day in Zambia. Or Zimbabwe? Somewhere in Africa. Lose track.

Gear up mentally for yoga.  Meet friend in town to carpool to the funky Wimer Grange 8 miles into the countryside where Shanti holds forth Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Not like the yoga person parodied in this viral video. Instead she says: You think this yoga shit is easy? Ha! (smirks)
Her students pant, perspire, suffer. Return for more.

Limp home. Change sweaty top for Rotary meeting, but don't change all-purpose black stretch pants, perfect morning through evening—dancing, dining. hiking, yoga. Keep it simple with limited wardrobe.

Check solarium plant life. Geranium lookin' good.

Check greens in cold frame. Need thinning soon. 

Talk with friend at Rotary who has taken on clients I bid adieu to during past seven months of my client-by-client retirement process. After Rotary, she meets with my former (and favorite) long-term client to plan annual publication. Sigh. Smile.

Pick up materials for volunteer gig on behalf of WCST this weekend. Confer with organizer about how to get stuff to event in rain.

Visit 96-year-old mother, LaVone, who, two days ago learned her 92-year-old sister had died, and young pastor Evan from the Missouri Synod Lutheran Church, who will help her through grief and into acceptance of the inevitable. Feel warm and good. Better than meeting with former client.

Spy on PK, who is scooting a wood stove into position
in his garage/shop. Retired four years. Always busy.

Get email from daughter-in-law. Reno is on fire again - five square miles.
A young man they know lost his wife soon after childbirth, left hospital alone, with infant son. Recall daughter-in-law's dicey birthing experience. Happy ending, but without excellent intervention, could have been tragic. Feel warm about her, son Quinn, grandson Noah. Tear-up.

Cook low-carb dinner: Thick pork chops in garlic/onion/vermouth/port/Creole mustard/cream sauce; steamed cauliflower with butter; green salad with chopped cabbage, peppers, avocados. Fried potatoes for PK. No suffering with low carb. But no potatoes, either.
Keep thinking about grieving young father and motherless child.

Best of the day to come, continue reading Cutting for Stone in cozy bed nest.

No pasta, no bread, no sugar. A low-carb life rededicated.

I've resisted NY resolutions, but they keep coming at me. All online and print venues scream with January weight-loss plans and exercise programs. Have I ever resolved to lose weight and exercise? Of course! Only for about 40 years. Maybe more. I'm always nibbling away at poundage and at the pledge to get strong, flexible, and balanced. This year I thought, I'm not going there. I already know how to eat, how to keep fit.

Typical low-carb dinner: Soup with onions, garlic, kale, a few  beans, chicken and chicken broth, roasted green chilies, chipotle peppers, topped with avocado and a dollop of sour cream. Low-carb doesn't mean low-fat. The quesadilla on the side is a bit of a splurge as most small corn tortillas have 12-15 carbs.

But somehow, after an especially tempting and delectable holiday baking season, I have rededicated to a low-carb regime that began a decade ago, and that has kept me at a reasonable weight and good health without too much suffering or deprivation.

Unless, of course, I count the suffering and deprivation during my near-death experience in October 2002 and the subsequent circumstances that set me on this dietary lifestyle. As I wrote in 2005:

In October 2002, I accidentally lost 15 pounds. It was easy, and I didn’t have to do a thing except nearly die. This is not a weight-loss method I recommend, but it ultimately changed my life and the way I look at food. So I guess that like a lot of bad things that happen to good people, my illness can be viewed as a blessing and perhaps the world’s strangest route to low-carbohydrate nutrition. 

 I had just returned from three weeks in Nepal, a spectacular but terrifying third world country with its feet in putrid refuse and its eyes on the shining mountaintops. I carried back with me an evil hitchhiker, a virulent bacteria that multiplied exponentially and dumped toxins into my blood by the bucket load. 

After a few days of beating back a 104 fever with OTC remedies,  I ended up in the ER, weak and miserable beyond description. After misdiagnosis (and treatment) for malaria ensued, an ER doctor declared in a voice that I later realized was a bit peppy for the occasion, You're septic!

I had no idea what septic meant, which was good, although I was too sick to be scared. I was admitted to the hospital and lost consciousness almost immediately. 

The first, and, fortunately, the only, organ to fail was my kidneys. My loved ones offer sobering accounts of watching me puff up like a blowfish. My primary care doctor then, Dan Moline, M.D., pulled in infectious disease specialists and knocked himself out to find an antibiotic that would work, but nothing did. Fluids continued to seep out of capillaries and into tissues contributing to the blowfish effect. 

Dr. Moline prepared my family for the worst, but he refused to give up on me. He later told me that he stayed with me until 2:30 a.m. on the night he expected I would die, and then remembered a simple now out-of- favor treatment for kidney disease or failure: albumin infusion. The next morning he expected to see an empty bed, but there I was, sitting up in bed staring at my hideous arms, which looked like clown balloons and were too heavy to lift.

My kidneys had kicked back in, my capillaries were beginning to behave, and the fluids that had been pumped into my tissues for days began to drain. I had gained 70 pounds of fluid in less than a week.

Relocated from the ICU to a regular hospital room, I used my strange heavy arms to lift food to my mouth for the first time in a week. Hospital food! Bleah! Right off the bat, I was offered Ensure, a thick, sweet, nauseating concoction that coats the tongue like milk of magnesia. The first two Ensure ingredients are water and sugar. One cup of Ensure has 50 grams — approximately 12.5 teaspoons of sugar. I wasn’t paying attention to sugar grams back then, but knew that Ensure and some of the other “meals” that appeared on my bed tray were not doing me any good. (This later led to an early ah ha! moment: Most hospital dietitians and too many doctors are stuck in the dark ages about alternative approaches to nutrition.) 

Note: As I update this post in May 2016, I concede that Ensure has benefits. It helped keep my mother alive until her demise at 98, and a friend's mom, approaching 103, is on an Ensure diet.

With the catheter out, my main exercise was shuffling back and forth to the latrine as the stored fluids made their way through my restored  kidneys. Back home, I remained a frequent flyer to the bathroom. Each morning for a couple weeks I was rewarded at the scale with a one-to-three-pound overnight weight loss. Fun! 

I'd wanted to lose 15 or 20 pounds for years, but not badly enough to suffer deprivation.  I’d had it with yo-yo dieting, always regaining the five to 20 pounds I managed to lose. 

I'd shoved aside the fact that I weighed almost as much as I had when I was nine months pregnant with my first child (170 pounds), and told myself that wearing big tops over elastic- waist pants wasn’t such a bad fashion statement for a woman in her fifties. My body mass index, which, I knew nothing about at the time, was 26.5, putting me solidly into the overweight category. Nobody, especially me, was describing me as obese, but more like “she could stand to lose a few pounds.” Boy, was I in denial.

When the weight loss (and multiple nocturnal bathroom visits) finally stopped, I settled at 155 pounds, down 15  from my pre-Nepal weight. Yahoo! I thought. Now if I can just manage to keep it off.

Keeping weight under control wasn't quite as easy as I thought. After my medical crisis passed, I was back to preparing family meals as usual: lots of veggies, brown rice, baked potatoes, salads, and low-fat meats. Bacon was banned, and so was butter. But not Junior Mints, which were fat free. What could possibly go wrong?

Plenty. Just ask all the people who gained weight and kept it on during decades of the low-fat nutrition craze, which still holds sway. Me? I'm a low-carb believer now, and have been known to proselytize.

All I need to do during the resolution time of year is to talk to myself about making a correction here and there.: Cut the bread, sugar, pasta, processed foods, cakes, cookies, and no sodas, ever.

So far, so good.

The low-carb burger. No bun, baby. Use a fork and a napkin. 

Winter Squash and Chili Peppers Bisque

I cooked Christmas dinner for six this year. On the menu: mustard-seed-crusted prime rib roast with roasted balsamic onions and horseradish/mustard/creme fraiche sauce—terrific!. Thanks, Epicurious; steamed broccoli with lemon and butter; baked yellow potatoes, and, in my opinion, the star of the show, this squash/pepper soup.

Loads of roasted green and red chilies, chipotles and  jalapenos combined with butternut squash make a savory bisque topped with a dollop of sour cream, roasted conquistador peppers, and a drizzle of reduced balsamic.

I searched the Web for a recipe, and found several that combined winter squash and peppers. But alas, they were all wimpy. Not enough peppers. Not enough heat or flavor. I had to have a roasted-pepper-heavy dish on the menu because one of our guests recently bestowed upon us a pepper roaster, a hand-cranked unit that blasts the rotating peppers with gas flame. We wanted to demonstrate our gratitude by including a dish dripping with flavor and loaded loaded with roasted peppers. 

PK is roasting Big Jim — New Mexico-type peppers. If only you could smell the pepper perfume!

So I improvised on a squash bisque I've made several times (including for our fundraising farm dinner in September). Before I get to the recipe, I must mention a couple other items on the holiday table: chipotle sauce and PK's ground pepper flakes—our ever-present condiments.  

From left to right: serrano, cayenne, anza, jalapeno, and up top, Italian hot.
PK grinds  his dried peppers  separately then blends them.
We garden together, but the peppers? HIS. His alone.

This is a block of frozen mostly green roasted chilies weighing about 10 ounces.
I added  it, partially thawed,  early in the soup prep. 

Other soup ingredients. Those little black things in the front are chipotles.
Conquistador peppers are in the bag, serrano sauce in the pint jar, jalapenos in the bowl. 

Winter Squash and Chili Peppers Bisque

1 whole butternut or other winter squash - about 3 pounds

1 medium to large onion, minced

2-4 cloves garlic, minced

2 stalks celery, minced

2-4 jalapeno peppers, seeded, minced

3 T butter

32-48 ounces of chicken or vegetable broth or stock

1 1/2 cups half and half or heavy cream (go for the heavy cream!)

1/4 - 1/2 cup serrano sauce (more about this later)

8-12 ounces of roasted green and/or red chili peppers

6-8 ounces of roasted red chili peppers (may substitute sweet), sliced 

2-3 dried chipotle peppers

2 tsp sea or kosher salt

1 tsp ground black pepper

1-2 tsp. ground cumin

1 T honey (optional)

Bake the squash whole in advance at 350 for 60-80 minutes, or until a knife inserts easily into the most dense part. Poke with a knife a couple times before baking to prevent a squash-festooned oven. After the squash cools, it's easy to scoop out the seeds, peel it, and break into large pieces. You can refrigerate the cooked squash for a few days before using, or freeze it. 

Early stage of soup prep. Veggies have been sauteed, squash, broth, seasonings and chipotles added,
but the immersion blender has not been summoned.

In a stockpot over medium heat, saute minced onion, garlic, celery, and jalapeno in butter until golden. Use a food processor to do the heavy mincing. Add the roasted squash to the pot along with the whole dried chipotle peppers, the serrano (or Tabasco) sauce and the veggie or chicken broth. Reserve some broth to adjust thickness later. Cook for about 15 minutes til the chipotles begin to soften. Add salt, pepper, cumin and honey, if desired. If your squash is super sweet, you can skip the honey. But if you use serrano sauce, it's good to add a bit of sweetness to balance the vinegar in the sauce.

Now you have a big decision: to remove the softened chipotles or not? I removed them, but next time I won't.  Cooking the chipotle early in the soup prep and removing it before blending adds a whiff of chipotle flavor. Blending chipotles with the other ingredients would pack a more flavorful wallop. I like those wallops. Make sure your chipotles are stemless. It's OK if they have seeds. Need more info about chipotles? (Link includes a recipe for chipotle sauce.)

Now that everything is cooked, grab your immersion blender or a heavy-duty food processor. Immersion blenders are inexpensive and SO much more convenient in this circumstance. Blend ingredients right in the pot and add seasoning to taste. (serrano sauce, salt, etc.) 

When you're about ready to serve, stir in the cream, either half and half or heavy cream. You could even add sour cream. Once the cream is added, no more boiling. Place generous amounts of slivered roasted red peppers on top, along with a dollop of sour cream or chipotle sauce, if desired.

This soup is good for a few days refrigerated, and it freezes well for several months. 

I'm so fortunate to have all these peppers in my pantry or freezer—and for a couple months, in the garden. If you're not partners with a pepper maniac, you have other options:

OK. So you don't have him.

Some options if you lack listed ingredients:

• Roasted whole green chilies: Readily available in most groceries. For this recipe, you'll need 2 or 3  cans, minimum. 
• Serrano sauce: If you have access to fresh serrano peppers, consider making your own, or you could use a good quality hot salsa. We live in the sticks, so the concept of purchasing serrano sauce locally is remote. It's likely available in urban areas, and may definitely be purchased online. You may also substitute tabasco-type sauces, but in quiet careful amounts.



Canning serrano sauce. Pungent and delicious aromas and months
of tangy summer-tasting goodness.


• Chiptole peppers: These dried and smoked jalapenos are available at stores that have well-stocked Mexican food departments. 
• Jalapenos: I seed and slice jalapenos to freeze as we have multitudes in the garden. I wish we had more! Grocery store jalapenos are green and available year round. They're ok, but red are way better. Remove the seeds, unless you're after big heat. They're usually not very hot sans seeds, but even then, they add deep peppery flavor.

This is a terrific soup, which with quesadillas or another Mexican-themed side dish and a green salad, could easily make a company-worthy vegetarian meal. Go for it!

Time is .... too short.

My mother, LaVone Strube, in late 1916.

In response to Facebook birthday greetings on the occasion of my 67th freaking birthday,  I posted something like "another year down the drain" in addition to acknowledging that I had an outstanding year. Well wishers shot back au contraire comments such as:

• Down the Drain?? I prefer to look at it as "Another EPIC year filled with amazing times with family and friends, music and art, great food and wine, in the most beautiful part of the world.
• Not down the drain; in the treasure chest of memories!
• We only have now. Live, love, and grow.

I can't argue with any of these sentiments. It WAS an epic year. I DO have a treasure chest of memories. I AM acutely aware that we only have NOW and not to waste a moment—to live, love, and grow.

But I'm not retracting the "down the drain" comment. Where does time go? Well, it doesn't go anywhere. The present just IS, and the past just ISN'T. It hurts my head and my heart to think about Time—with a capital T, which is something I've been doing since I turned 17 and saw my sweet 16th year vanish like the stupid tears I cried over my lost youth.

I continue to work through this issue, which is to be present in every moment, to enjoy the gift of life. I can't believe I've waded into this subject and keep getting dragged further into my own doubts, fears, internal conflicts, and cosmic questions. It's pathetic, really, to continue to grapple with the mystery of time. What's the point? The truth is I can't help myself.

Here's what I know. When I'm living in the present, time doesn't exist. I think that's true for most people. When I'm writing, gardening, dancing, doing yoga, and am engaged in life, the hours evaporate. Where have those seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, centuries gone? I get the sense that they converge into a whirlpool that circles somewhere in the universe and evaporate without ceremony. One thing I believe is true: the universe is cold and uncaring about us poor little people clinging to our moments.

My parents, Floyd and LaVone Strube, when they were young and beautiful newlyweds in 1936. He died at age 93. 

This morning I was with my mother, LaVone, who was 96 on January 1st. I followed her with a wheelchair as she used her walker to navigate the hallways at her assisted living home. She can shuffle along for 50 steps or so before she has to rest in her chair. Then we talk as she gathers strength for the next 50 steps. She shook her head and said with a wry smile, "I am still your perky mother, but I can't  believe I'm so old. I can't believe I'm in a wheelchair." She pointed to her ears, which have failed her, and her eyes, which are going fast. "I never thought I'd be like this," she tells me.

But she doesn't complain. LaVone and I don't discuss time in any way other than personal linear measurements. Her life, my life, the lives of our loved ones. We're born, move forward in time, then we die. In the scope of the universe, and with all those colliding protons driving physicists to distraction, our individual lives mean little or nothing .
As we grow older, we realize, gut level, that life won't last forever, but we cling to it anyway, grasping at seconds.


My toddler grandson has no concept of Time, and is the perfect model for Be Here Now. The Moment is all he knows, and all he needs to know. Too bad he'll forget it before he rediscovers, like my mother, that the present is all we have.  

LaVone and great-grandson Noah in late 2011. She's almost 96. He'll be two in June. 

I did a little research into time. Turns out that, surprise!, it's been a hot topic  throughout the ages, debated and dissected by religious practitioners, philosophers, scientists, and everyday people. Basically, it boils down to the linear view or the circular view. Christians, Jews, and Muslims tend toward the linear. (Can you believe we all seem to agree on something!?) Time has a beginning and an end. Eastern religions tend toward the circular. Time repeats.


Whatever. I'll go with the It's a Beautiful Day lyrics to their great song, Time Is, which starts like this:

Time is too slow for those who wait
And time is too swift for those who fear
Time is too long for those who grieve
And time is too short for those that laugh.

I have so many memories about that song. But the dominant one is the last: My father died in November 2006, and in March 2007, I took my mother on a Princess cruise, a first for us both. I loved being on a ship that was plunging through deep troughs. One sunny but windy afternoon I plugged into my iPod and walked/trotted around the deck. Time Is came on and I began to run and leap with ocean spray in my face and the ship bucking and diving. Time is too short for those that laugh.
Keep on laughing, and don't think too much about those fleeting but precious moments between when you exist and when you don't.