Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The title's a bit of a stretch, neither one is really all that thrilling, but it's all I've got this morning.
One thing I've been doing all along -- and doing a lot of these last couple of weeks -- is to try to leave a few bites on my plate. They really can add up over time. I still have trouble stopping and checking how full I feel, though.
It's funny, because in a restaurant I normally have no trouble leaving half my order on my plate to take home. But at home? It's hard to even just stop and access how I'm feeling.
Last night I did it, though. I made matzo brei (think of sort of french toast matz0) which I adore. Last time I made it I realized I really didn't need 2 whole boards. Halfway through it last night I realized I'd had enough. Which worked well, because I had the other half for breakfast this morning -- and since I'm running low on matzo, that helped.
I had to run several errands yesterday, and one took me to Target. I decided the Chocolate Obssession frozen soy milk was just okay, so I wanted to pick up the chocolate & peanut butter one. I did, or so I thought. When I dished it out for dessert, I didn't see any peanut butter. And when I ate it, I realized that it was also Chocolate Obssession -- not that that is bad, but it is just not what I wanted. I checked the label more than once, and sure enough, it's mislabeled. Foiled again! I've never had that happen before, and I must admit, I was pretty disappointed.
Well, this too shall pass. It isn't worth running to Target again, although I'm not sure what they would do about it -- whole thing would probably melt while I waited on line.
Monday, April 13, 2009
While my Dad is a rather demonstrative fellow, I've only seen him cry once -- at the grave of the brother I never knew. My mom is rather stoic & somewhat undemostrative; I think her mother was, as well, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree -- and I'm not referring to my Mom here.
I don't cry easily. I'll hug if you're a hugger, but I don't generally hug first.
This morning, however, as I was outside with the dogs, my feelings really swamped me. It started slowly, and built swiftly. The sorts of feelings that so many of us, myself included, have used food to medicate for years. It's easier to stuff ourselves with food than to allow ourselves to feel our feelings, especially when they're not happy feelings.
I can't really explain why I love this home or town so much. It isn't a perfect house, it's not the best neighborhood (it was much nicer when we moved in 15 years ago), it's certainly not a McMansion by any means. There were so many things we wanted to do that we never got around to.
There have been so many good times here, and some pretty bad ones too. Welcoming the boys (my present cats), and making this a cat-friendly house with all sorts of stuff my husband built for them -- for me, really -- that now must come down. Tearing our hair out over Chester as a puppy, and snuggling with him so many times over the years. My girls (my first cats) are buried in our backyard, and their rosebush is really blooming. I want to press some of the roses, but probably won't get around to it.
The trees we planted that were tiny saplings that now shade me as I sit beneath them reading, while the dogs sun themselves. It is also the place where both our first cats were put to sleep, where we watched & suffered through their declines, where Chester protected me from the person/s who tried to break in this fall.
So many memories. It just really got to me this morning, and I found myself crying.
But you've got to let yourself feel. Feel the butterflies in your stomach, the lump in your throat, and the burning in your eyes. I know we will create new memories in our new home. I know that home is where my loved ones are; it's not a roof and 4 walls . . . and yet there is just something about this house.
We really bought it almost on a whim. A realtor called with their latest promotion: have them take you to 3 homes, and they'd give you free movie tickets. I wasn't very busy with my business yet and I love movies, so I said sure. We'd thought about perhaps buying a house. We knew we wanted to stay here, but my husband's assignment was up in a few months and we didn't know if we would stay here; we figured we could rent the house if we moved.
I got my free movie tickets, but I got so much more. Somehow when I walked into this house, it told me I was home. I can't say that I have the same feeling about our new house.
Still, my very rambling point (guess I had to get all that off my chest) is that food would never make the sorrow go away. Food can definitely make me feel good, but I will allow myself to mourn this house without food. That's how I can move on.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Ok, I've already done a blog post of a similar title. But I have been on a roll. Amazing what stress will do for you. I'll blog more about it on Monday, when I think more people might be around to actually read it. 6 weeks of weight loss. I think it's a new record for me.
This past week was busy (for me), and I was just so tired most days I wasn't even all that hungry. Apparently, that worked for me. Here I worried about how I'd handle it when the move got close and I didn't have as much time -- apparently, I should move more often.
I still worry a bit about those couple of weeks where I'll probably be eating out a lot or processed food a lot. But I know if I can go on a cruise and only gain a couple of pounds, I should be able to handle it without getting too derailed. I'm getting so close to not paying now . . . and I want that; we have enough over our heads with owning 2 houses. But I also know how hard those last few pounds can be. What will be, will be.
I want to thank my friend Keakman for mentioning storing already tossed salad with a paper towel to keep it from getting slimy -- so far, that's really working well for me, and I've been eating a lot more salad lately because of that tip.
And finally, we did a lot of walking this morning. Probably my last time at the farmer's market, where I bought 2 chocolate scones for the week of our move. Since it's Passover, I stuck them in the freezer. I couldn't even try them, even tho she was offering tastes. But I've bought from her before and know her stuff is good -- if not exactly healthy. But they're relatively small scones.
Then we walked down to the area I'd noticed earlier in the week -- it's right beside a strip mall, but it's a small field of bluebonnets. We have other bluebonnet photos, and I'm sure if my husband were here, these would be better, but here they are.
I cropped this a tad oddly to make it look like the dogs were just sitting in a field of bluebonnets (and doctored it a bit to get rid of their harness & lead).
There's a nice little trail that connects a small subdivision with the road that goes by the strip mall. Actually, it's a whole series of trails. I'd walked in there a little before, but didn't want to go too deep because it appears really isolated. Then one day I went with a friend -- turns out there are a lot more trails back there than meet the eye. You're never really very far from civilisation, even though it feels that way.
Turns out the dogs were looking away because a couple walking their 4 dogs (several off leash) were about to show up.
There you have it. Another favorite walking trail documented. If you live in Austin, btw, that trail is near Petco in Sunset Market (as are the bluebonnets).
Friday, April 10, 2009
I have to remind myself of this a bit more recently. Long before this move, I made it a habit to start and end every day with 10 deep breaths. It's amazing how calming it can be to let everything go and just breathe. Wish I could convince DH of that. He poo-poohs me every time I tell him to do it; gee, who has the high blood pressure?
Several months ago I also made it a habit to take a few deep breaths before most meals, and to say a little prayer of gratitude. I'm grateful to the farmer who grew the veggies; to the sushi chef who made my sushi; to the animal that gave its life so that I might live; and so on.
Yes, of course, sometimes I get upset and angry and forget my own rules. I'm human. I've got a pretty good temper. But other times I find myself beginning to get anxious about everything that has to get done, and I take a moment, and I take a few deep breaths. It calms me. It focuses me.
Deep breathing isn't just for the stressful times, it's for every day living. The next time you feel yourself getting upset or anxious, just breathe. The next time you find yourself reaching for food when you're really not hungry, just breathe.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
I really seem to be into those acronyms lately, eh?
As our move approaches, I'm sure I will be MIA more than occasionally. Sometimes things just don't go as you planned. Today, for instance, I had to run out to Fedex to fedex my signed portions of our tax returns to my husband.
Because we were in a very odd work situation for him, the company had someone do the taxes -- and they informed us yesterday that we had to get the forms back to them by the 15th -- that is, the forms they'd finally sent us yesterday. Which probably would be easy if we were living in the same state. Hopefully I signed everywhere I needed to.
Then I spent 2 hours this afternoon with the realtor. I wasn't expecting that meeting to take so long. Afterwards, I had a choice: exercise or shower. Sadly, I chose the exercise. It was a short burst, but I do need that shower, too. I do find it hard to not exercise. I don't have exercise bulimia, but to not exercise at all? Rarely happens unless I'm sick, and thankfully I don't get sick real often (crosses fingers).
That was all in between calling painters to try to track down estimates, getting several packages ready to ship to my husband, and the normal stuff. And so much I didn't get done, like take my car in to be checked.
You may not hear from me at times, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm not reading & watching. You just never know when I might pop in.
Hopefully tomorrow I'll return you to your regular blog . . . until my husband comes home next weekend. All bets are off then.
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