key lime

Who would ever do such a thing? Last weekend I was at Mikelle’s and when I got home late Sunday night I took a peek in the fridge and saw this:

I went to bed thinking about key lime pie.

The next day I was fine. I went to work and then I thought about the pie, so I called hubby and said, please take that pie with you so it’s not here all week. Please put it in the top of your cooler and don’t leave it in the fridge. It won’t be good by the time you get home on Friday, anyway, and I don’t want it in the fridge all week. He said he didn’t have room for it. Ugggh. I said I’d take it over to Stephen and he and Fuzz could eat it.

On Tuesday I ate a slice of key lime pie. I had another two slices on Wednesday. Last night I had the last slice. I was wrong about it not being good by Friday. It was delicious. I hate having pie in the fridge. I hate being married to someone who can have one slice of pie and then somehow is able to forget about it. I hate being married to someone who doesn’t think about food all day long. Who doesn’t have a clue what it’s like to think about food all day long.

OK. I know that’s not fair. It’s not his fault I’m defective.

But, please, don’t bring any more key lime home unless it’s

or

or

Thank you. Thank you for understanding that it’s a good thing to not leave stuff like that around.

It’s my mom’s birthday. Happy Birthday Mother! I love and adore you!

I am seeing all sorts of people around here [a fairly sparsely populated place of about 4000] who have gained, lost, gained, lost, gained, lost [you get the point] weight. The newest crazy phase around town is the Ideal Protein Plan, administered by our local chiropractor, where you eat mostly protein, cucumbers in an oil/vinegar sauce/ and one fruit a day. It’s also supplemented with powders and vitamins.

The thing is, it’s just like any other diet. I’ve seen people lose 75 pounds and gain 70 of it back in a one-year period. One of my supervisors just did that very thing. Last Spring he was all protein/cucumbers/one apple. Now he’s all Snickers/donuts/pop. I’ve seen the embarrassment on their faces and I’ve remembered that same feeling, myself, when I’ve done the same type of thing. People make such a fuss when I’ve lost weight and then they sort of ‘don’t-make eye-contact’ when I gain it back. Yup. It’s all there. It’s painful. It’s scarring.

It doesn’t matter what you do to lose weight. It matters what you do after you lose it!

The first day of school I was wearing my new jeans (I only bought two of them because they are one size bigger and I’m going to get back into those size 10s of mine!!!) and my friend Becky noticed they were new and said, “Oh, you got some new school clothes!” I said, “UUUUGGGH. I’m fat.” She said, “I think you look good.” She lied. [Becky has been a size 6-8 her whole adult life.]

Anyhoo.

This week I’ve exercised and struggled with food. I’ve woke up every single morning saying today is going to be different. I’m going to stick with the plan. I’m going to have a good day. Every single morning I wake up thinking about food and whether or not I’ll be able to get through the day without a food fight. And everyday I wish I had another addiction to deal with instead of this one, because this one is kicking my butt.

new brows

149. Still motivated. Still exercising.  Although I did have a little session with some rice cakes and strawberry cream cheese last night.

Can I just say I’m loving my eyebrows. I’ve always had very light hair there and hate the process of penciling them it. I’ve tried eye shadow with a sponge applicator, many, many different brands of pencil and even light brown mascara on my eyebrows. But the other day I decided to get them colored at the beauty school and then Mikelle waxed them and they are great. I don’t have to do a thing to them and they are perfect.

I highly recommend this to anyone who has light or thin brows. And don’t worry about them getting the dye on your skin. They do a preventive gel first so it doesn’t go anywhere it isn’t supposed to.

Love, love love!

cringe

So far . . . so good.

In fact, so far . . . so great!

It feels good to be back on a schedule, back in a routine, back to normal. Summer work is hard, deep cleaning, frustrating, too many people around. Too much stress. Too much stress eating. Not enough structure.

Four days in a row I’ve eaten healthy, two days in a row I’ve exercised. And I’ve been almost instantly rewarded. Down at the scale. Up in the energy.

OK, I’ll just say the number. Cringe! 149.5.

There it is, black and white. Now it’s going down!

weekend with the girls

Oh my heck!

I just got home from a great weekend with Mikelle and Tracy. Tracy and Mikelle. I’m not sure which one sounds right. I left here around 10 a.m. on Saturday and stopped at a few places in Ogden. I had been wanting to get some new Keen sandals on a closeout special but Sportsman’s Warehouse and Sports Authority didn’t have them. [Ended up ordering online from Zappos.] I wanted to stop at Quilted Bear, too, but overcame that urge by promising to stop at Sugar and Spice in Logan. I got there around 1:30 and stopped by Mikelle’s work at the assisted living place. We visited with the residents and shared some brownies and banana cookie bars I had made the night before for Barbara Bluemel’s surprise birthday party. I definitely had to do something to get rid of them since I had eaten 10-12 squares the night before. Ugh. [another story . . .albeit a familiar one!]

After her shift was over we made a couple of runs to the professional hair shop, TJ Maxx, Dollar Cuts to pick up the shears and a spray bottle, the before mentioned Sugar and Spice [easily my new favorite craft store] and then to Mikelle’s perfectly cleaned and organized house. We made plans for the evening and then headed out to dinner.

Oh my heck again! Yum and a half! I had the grilled salmon on penne and artichokes tossed in olive and garlic! Delish! And healthy!

Later in the evening we colored hair, laughed, rubbed the preggers belly, visited, and shopped some more [trying to get a few school clothes at the last minute.] I finally went to bed around 11:30 but those two stayed up until around 2:00 and made so much noise that I finally went and slept on the couch. Oh my heck they were crying and laughing and bemoaning the fact that Tracy’s hair went ash-y and black and she felt like a sixty year old woman trying to look all hip. Oh my goodness. If I had a dollar for every time I heard that statement. [Me, being a sixty year old woman trying to look hip, myself, it was a little hard to not take that a little personal but I persevered and just played deaf each time I heard the near-insulting comment.]

At one point when we were all upstairs in the bathroom we decided to weigh in front of each other. That’s a first. Oh my stinkin’ heck. That was a sobering moment, which lead me to promise out loud, “The next time you see me I will weigh 140!” Mikelle reminded me she is going to have Gibbs in about four weeks so I’d better get on the ball!

This morning we woke up early and decided to color again. This time it turned out a little on the streaky-orange side. Now, I do love a good Sunkist orange. I adore them, but truth-be-told there was a little slice of Sunkist right there in the top and front of Tracy’s hair. She didn’t even want to go to church! I have total faith they are working on that right now, once more trying to get her hair back to a more natural and 35-ish hip color. Mikelle had called a half-dozen of her cosmetologist friends asking to borrow the right shade to repair the previous two shades — yes, that’s right. Three total colors in a twenty-four-hour period. Pray tell.

Tracy and I both got our eyebrows waxed and I got mine colored. I’m telling you, it is wonderful having a cosmo in the family. At one point Tracy climbed up on the kitchen counter with her Sunday clothes on and stretched out for the waxing. I snapped a few pictures and promise to share them if I can get Tracy to email them.

We went to Logan and Mikelle’s student ward. A few minutes after we got there a striking lady with a perfect hair cut and color came and sat down right in front of us. It was just what we had been aiming for. We all looked at each other and burst out in a stifled and irreverent laugh. It was a little much to bear right at that moment. And wouldn’t you know it, we kept running into miss perfect hair all throughout the three-hour block.

We did hear some great talks and lessons. Several times during the meetings I looked over at the two of them with such warm feelings of gratitude. They are good friends, even with the sixteen years difference in their ages. We have so much fun together and we made tentative plans for an annual girls’ weekend from here on out.

Later we had a great Sunday dinner together. We visited, once more, the Beehive assisted living place with promises of yarn for a few projects and to gather up the last of the brownies and banana bars I had delivered the night before. I’m telling you, they are trouble!

As much as I wanted to stay and see the final outcome, I had to go home! I start work in the morning bright and early and need to be up by 4 a.m. First day of school. So I delivered hugs and belly pats and headed down the canyon.

Last I heard Tracy is staying over one more night and heading out in the morning. Her saint of a husband has had the kids two days, got them all dressed for church this morning and taught Tracy’s Primary class as well. All this so we could have a girls’ weekend. I’m just saying . . . he’s pretty dang close to perfect when it comes to husbands!

I’ve totally committed to eat healthy and exercise this week. Back to the routine that seems to work best for me. Work hard all day and stay active, then be careful in the evenings. Not too much TV. Not too many snacks. 7-8 hours of sleep.

Come on! How hard can that be?

[Oh, I guess I have proved that theory this summer. It IS hard and just because I've lost weight the last year, I can't afford to take for granted that I can keep it off. It's going to be a life-long struggle for me. I know that.]

I’ll be checking in every couple of days with a progress report. I might not tell the truth, but I will check in!

Great weekend! Love those girls!

then and now

I looked over the past year’s posts just to see what I weighed last year at this time. 151.5. I looked at the post and saw I was so fired up to have lost that ten pounds. I was so optimistic, felt so good, was exercising, choosing wisely, happy. It was contagious.

I weigh less than that right now. Just a smidgen. I’m not optimistic, feeling good, exercising, choosing wisely or happy. It’s also contagious!

I feel good in other ways, though. I feel I’ve found other answers that have nothing to do with weight. Well, everything to do with weight, actually. How can that be? How can it not be about my weight and yet not not be about my weight?

That’s really the only way to explain it.

I’ve found that I need to forgive myself for a whole truckload of things. I have a mountain of things to figure out, take care of. But someone said, “If you ask God to move a mountain, don’t be surprised if he hands you a shovel.”

That sounds right. It’s my mountain.

So, even though my weight is way up there and my clothes are tight and I’m frustrated with my  physical self, at the same time I’m feeling optimistic about taking care of some other weighty issues I’ve buried for years. Years! Forty or more years. I love the leaders at the 12-step program. I love the words I’m reading and what I’m learning. I wish I could lose weight and work on spiritual things at the same time, and I will keep working on that, but I can see my focus is more on other things right now. I keep telling myself, “Well, as long as I stay under 150 I’ll be OK . . . . and I know that’s a cop-out. I don’t like it. But I’m working up the courage to do a thorough inventory of all I have ever done. The exact words are “Make a searching and fearless written moral inventory of yourself.”

That’s taking up most of any extra energy or thought I have lying around.

At the same time. I need to eat healthier. My energy is zapped. I need to eat as well as if I were preparing for a marathon, because, this is a spiritual marathon and sugar isn’t good for my soul either.

Goal for the week: Pray often. Eat healthy. Forgive another person for something. Forgive myself for something.

dais, take 2

I just finished mowing the lawn. It wasn’t a detailed mow, just clipping off the tops and evening it out. We don’t have water in the ditch so I don’t want to cut it too short or it will burn more than it has already. But I like seeing the ‘lines’ in the lawn and picking up the leaves that have blown off the trees the past couple of days.

Daisy was sitting out front on the grass watching me mow. Keeping me company. Each time I came around her direction she would get up and move over two feet. Then a few minutes later she would have to get up and move again. Then again. This is not an easy feat for her since — remember —  she just broke her front leg and pelvis and has a torn-up back leg and another one with not much skin left on it.

She struggled. And struggled. Each time she only moved the minimum to get out of the way of the mower coming in her direction. It broke my heart.

I kept thinking she really needs to move wwaaaayyy over so that she could rest for a little while instead of trying to get herself up every couple of minutes. Or she could just move over in the opposite direction to where I’d already mowed and save herself a whole lot of pain and frustration. Finally, I got off the mower, motioned and called for her to come and lie over by a shady tree where I had already finished. I rubbed her belly for a while as she whimpered in painful pleasure. Poor girl.

I also thought, afterward, how that compares with our own lives and our own struggles. Lot’s of time  Someone can see the whole picture better than I can and can see that if I moved in the opposite direction I could save myself a whole lot of struggle and pain. Someone can see that just moving the minimum amount [usually in the wrong direction] doesn’t really help because I’m going to have to do that over and over.

I’m so glad I’m getting to know that Someone a little better and a few of my trust issues are improving when it comes to trusting in God.

Yes, it’s Thursday and I’m off to my 12-step program in a few minutes. I’ve been thinking all day how far I’ve inched along toward the right direction the last couple of months. This really has been life changing for me, perhaps only in my perspective. I have so much of my own soul’s work lying ahead. But now I can see there are tools, there’s time and there’s a way.

Knowing that has turned denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity and strangers into friends. It has made sense of the past and brings peace for today.

dais

Poor daisy, our faithful and long-time friend has been in an accident. She’s not appreciating her cast and broken pelvis. Poor thing. When she ‘walks’ she hobbles on her right front and left back leg, as the other two are quite useless. She holds them off the ground at odd angles.

What happened?

Steevo and hubby were on their way to set up hunting camp and were going about 50 on a dirt road when Daisy slid off the box in the back of the truck and skidded in gravel for thirty feet. Stephen called us at Bear Lake almost bawling to tell us the bad news. He drove clear back to Lyman — a 200-mile round trip — to the vet and worried about his pet for the rest of the weekend.

Blythe gave Daisy to Stephen when his first dog, Slingshot, got shot by a farmer eleven years ago. Blythe had just gotten Daisy and her niece, Tess, from a neighbor in Rigby. She was three years old and felt so heart-broken for Steev that they drove all the way here and presented him with her pet. Dais has been a family favorite ever since. Each time the grandkids visit, Daisy rolls on her back, exposing her girl parts and insists on a rub or a scratch. She’s been gentle when they were all babies and she’s been a devoted watch dog for years.

Yes, yes, I know this is Blythe with Spike, not Daisy. But it shows how much
she truely loves her pets. So giving Daisy to Steevo was hard for her.

Just last night there was a skunk in the garage eating Daisy’s dog food — just chopping away while Daisy sat about three feet away in her fluorescent-pink cast barking her fool-head off. Obviously the uninvited skunk had evaluated the situation and knew she wasn’t much of a threat. I crawled out of bed to quiet the barking, discovered the skunk, hurled my broom at it and then hurried to shut the garage door. I still said, “Good, dog” to her, even though she couldn’t manage to get rid of the intruding skunk on her own.

Today she posed for pictures and looked at me, like, “Surely you’re not going to blog about this!” [If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that lately . . .] But I told her of course I was going to. She’s part of the family and needs to have an explanation why she is hurt.

It’s what moms do. They write about their families, even when the going’s rough. Nienie does it, CJane does it, Kerflop does it, Wetoatmeal Kisses does it, and I do it. It’s the new journal/family scrap book all wrapped into one. And one day she will thank me for preserving this moment in time.

Say c.h.e.e.s.e!

last few days of summer

Even with a ton of wind and not being able to use the new 12X12, I thought our little get together at Bear Lake was a great day. Scott started talking about one last hurrah while we were still up at Green River Lakes a couple of weeks ago. We tried to plan a date when most of us could get there, but we still missed Steev and Leonard because they were heading to set up hunting camp in the Ham’s Fork area near Kemmerer. Their tradition of hunting-almost every-weekend-for-two-months trumped our tradition of going to Bear Lake one of the last weekends in August for a sun/fun day.

I loved playing with Annesley and Fisher. They are so dang delightful and full of innocence and laughter. They are ready to play catch, get twirled around with toes skipping over the water, or share a handful of grapes with Grommer. That’s me. Grommer, Bommer and Mommer all mixed up in one. I love, love, love that they include me in their play. Fisher obsessed about a frog he and Papa caught and Annes played with her purple spider. They both tossed balls to me which they then ran and got before I could get my hands on them. What can I say? They are so fast!

Kelle’s bell and Gibbs got a lot of my attention, as well. I can’t seem to keep my hands off the two of them. I’m always rubbing Gibbs around and around on her cute little belly hoping that he’ll recognize me in about 6 more weeks when he comes to earth. He’s almost 35 weeks and has just a little more time to gain some weight, develop his lungs and get a nice strong heart to love me even more than he surely must already.

Scott was his usual charming, hilarious, irreverent self, ever entertaining us and playing with Annes and Fisher. He teases mercilessly until we can hardly keep from wetting ourselves. He and his friend, Austin, fresh out of laser surgery, enjoyed the sun and waves even though swimming was out of the question for her. I’m not sure, but I think Scott had something in common with the full moon in one of the pics that Tracy took. Austin is quite the refined, wonderful, energetic, athletic, strong, wonderful [oops, said that twice!] woman we met at Green River Lakes and we’ve enjoyed having her at a couple of our get-togethers. We’re all hoping some of her refinement and good manners rub off.

Logan and Caleb wore each other out playing football, tackle, first one to the beach, first one to the water, first one to eat a ton of cookies, first one to eat a sandy sandwich, first one to the car, first one to the pizza, etc., etc., etc. They seem to compete in everything they do. They are both great guys, if not exactly the most well-behaved.

Keziah had a friend, Jessica, to play with all day. They were inseparable in and out of the water. They even got lost together at one point. Blythe hoped Andie would be there and when she wasn’t, read most of the day. She did go out into the water several times, though, and we all swam to the buoy a couple of times. She’s such a fun, beautiful, talented young lady. And a very good swimmer. After trying to swim to the second buoy, I dare say I was pooped and she just giggled at my attempt to get back to where I could touch the bottom. I thought my lungs would collapse! Tradition.

For me, the highlight of the day was when after a long, sunny and fun day we decided at the last minute to go to Bear Lake Pizza and give it our best to consume Old Ephraim, a 30-inch pizza with three toppings. It was big enough to serve our whole group, and then some. I believe I heard someone say it was $55 for just the pizza [Gasp! I surely have never heard of such a thing! I'm just as sure my frugal father would turn over in his grave!] It took nearly an hour to cook and about that long to eat.

I’m so glad we had this last day of f.u.n. together. Now we’re all back to work, back to routine, back to normal, and already looking forward to next summer.

PS: The three of us choreographed a synchronized swimming routine that was both elegant and creative. I, of course, made up most of the steps, drawing from my ginormous reserve of hot moves. It was very precise as we counted all our steps to eight counts. The dance itself included smart twirls, can-can kicks, a forward dolphin dive, a pyramid, and a few line dancing moves. Many people on the beach watched open-mouthed as we practiced and then performed this once-in-a-life-time event. I can still hear the cheers as we bowed, and then bowed again to all of them.

denial

Well, crap!

I thought I’d have my  life back to normal [spelled under control] by now. I thought the emotional eating I’ve been doing would peter out. [Did I just use that word? That's a word from my childhood!] I assumed life was going to be calm and collected after a nice relaxing 12 days in the mountains. And I thought I’d get right back to 144 [what I weighed the day we left] But I’m sadly mistaken.

Sugar Diabeatrice!

The day I got home I felt dang good about myself. The next morning I was 147 and I felt great! I exercised two days in a row. I recommitted to everything. I figured it would only take about a week to get back down three pounds.

I even saw Orion in the low southeastern horizon at 4:30 one morning. I was so thrilled and thought everything was perfect! But I have eaten like a demented parolee from a refugee camp for over a week.

Gggrrrrr. I’m a mess.

My weight is sky high. My face is broken out. My stomach is hanging over my thighs. My boobs are hanging over my stomach and it’s just not the kind of hangover I’m looking for.

If I were a drunk, I would be. Right now.

I can’t even say my weight out loud today. But I will say this. If I go school-clothes shopping, it will be for a lot bigger size than it was just a couple weeks ago.

See that double chin!

What happened? And how did it all happen so dang fast? I’m ready to call NutriSystem, Jenny, or just get some HCG. <JK! on that one!>

Denial is a defense mechanism in which a person is faced with a fact that is too uncomfortable to accept and rejects it instead, insisting that it is not true despite what may be overwhelming evidence. ^[1] The subject may use:

• simple denial – deny the reality of the unpleasant fact altogether
• minimisation – admit the fact but deny its seriousness (a combination of denial and rationalisation), or
• projection – admit both the fact and seriousness but deny responsibility.

Yes, I’m somewhere in between the three of these. It’s got to get better.

Just a second, let me check my biorhythms. Whenever I’m having a particularly horrible [or awesome day,] I like to check.

Oh my stinking heck!

Please, don’t anyone dare tell me that biorhythms are a bunch of fooey! I’m in the toilet this week!