Tuesday, July 17, 2012
I don't know about you all, but I tend to lose weight in fits and starts. I lose five or six pounds, then slack up on my efforts. I don't think it's because I falsely feel like, "I've got this" - more like something else comes along that captures my attention. Since I've gotten some good habits in place, I don't gain back the weight, but I totally stop losing, and I just cruise along like that for a while...sometimes a really long while. Mayo on the sandwich here, extra beer there, too hot to exercise the next day....and on it goes.
I'm about half way through my weight loss journey (although when I get to the end, I may decide to do another ten pounds...it's sort of a "see how things are when I get there" deal), but like the project of the upstairs bathroom, which has been half done for over a year now, I'm tired of the project and I want it finished.
I've not only been "dieting" (let's just call it that, okay?) for years, I've been widowed now for a year and a half, been stuck with house projects for that long or longer, just generally stuck.
I think it's time to pull up my big girl britches and finish a few of these projects. Finish the !@#$ bookcases, paint the upstairs bathroom, and lose the remaining thirty-odd pounds. I'm ready for the next chapter in my life, whatever it may be, and I don't want to be carrying around the "house that grief built" - I want to head into it healthy and happy, and to do that, I need to shed a few more pounds. Not because I'm not okay the way I am, but because I know I can be better.
So instead of resting on my, um...laurels...I'm going to reboot my efforts. I'm mostly living on what the CSA feeds me each week (did I mention how shockingly good raw kohlrabi is? Sliced thinly with a sprinkle of salt - YUM) so that part is easy. The hot spell is supposed to end tonight or tomorrow, so there goes that excuse - I've been walking and lifting sporadically, but I think I'll make a plan and stick to it, what the hell, even track it here in SP.
I've learned so much from the challenges in my life - not just weight and grief, but basically the whole buffet table of setbacks and craziness - and I want to share that with others. To do that, I need to dress that part, and to do *that*, I need to shop in a smaller size.
I suck at self-discipline, so I figure the only way I can achieve these goals is to show up here and use the tools SP offers. You guys are my community, if only virtually. I've come to believe that if we can lean on one another occasionally, we can beat this weight beast.
So let's go. * knuckle bumps several Spark Friends, with shouts of WooHoo in the background*
Sunday, July 15, 2012
(Sorry. Couldn't resist.)
I actually like beets, even the canned ones. One of my favorite salads is sliced beets with oranges. Heck, I'll even eat the dreaded Harvard beets, although it's not my favorite.
Here's some more beet info and a couple recipes from NPR:
Saturday, July 14, 2012
I sure don't - have heat tolerance, that is. it was a little better when I was working full time as a landscaper, but now...pffft.
One of the reasons I moved to Central New York was that I'd had enough of Philly's "triple H threat " - hazy, hot and humid. I distinctly remember, as a child, thinking that if I could use a knife, maybe I could cut a hole in the air to breathe through. And now (thank you, global warming) it's like that here.
I don't have air conditioning because, since I live on the top of a hill, I almost always have a breeze - I pay for it (literally) in the winter, but in the summer, it's a blessing. Plus, it takes a couple days for the house to warm up inside, and I learned young how to open and close draperies and windows in a house to make the most of cooling breezes and shut out hot sun. I also know how to get up early and do all the cooking for the day before it gets too warm.
Still, this has gotten to be a bit much. It's too humid (because the temperature is close to the dew point) at 5:00 a.m. and too hot later, so I'm having a hard time finding a way to exercise.
Anybody got any suggestions?
I've heard of them, sure, but I never knew what to do with one. I belong to a CSA, and whenever they'd present me with a kohlrabi, I'd put it in the "swap" corner, where it usually had lots of company.
(See the article in the Huffington Post, entitled WTF, CSA?)
So this week I took the things home. I did a little online looking and discovered that one could eat this ... thing...raw. Perfect, since it's too hot to cook. I sliced it thinly and salted it sparingly, and, lo and behold, it's EXCELLENT! It tastes sort of like a very mild radish (I've read that it tastes like broccoli stalks, but not to me.) It's crispy and juicy and really very pleasant. I can definitely see it as part of a relish tray - crudites, to you fancy folks - maybe with a creamy yogurt dressing.
Anyway, even if you don't belong to a CSA and are therefore pretty much forced to find a way to enjoy the thing, try one. I was pleasantly surprised - maybe you will be, too.
Monday, July 09, 2012
We need to talk about where this phrase comes from. And it has nothing to do with cats.
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, doctors believed that ranting and raving and carrying on - in short, "hysteria" - was caused by female hormones getting out of balance. Forgetting their places, as it were. The cure for this was to remove the uterus.
Yep, "hysteria" and "hysterectomy" both come from the same linguistic roots. "She's just a hysterical woman." Take her uterus out and she'll behave better.
I don't want to get into whether it worked, or the whole sexual politics of the thing. I just want people who choose this phrase to know what kind of his-tory (different linguistic root altogether) they're dredging up. Personally, I wouldn't use the phrase "hissy fit" at gunpoint.
Monday, June 18, 2012
"Non, je ne regrette rien" (Statement made famous in a song by the incomparable Edith Piaf.)
It's been pointed out that we learn from our mistakes - certainly far more than from our good moves - and that energy and emotion is wasted on regret. And while I agree with that in theory, I think we have to make a couple distinctions here.
Do I regret, *for myself*, the idiotic things I've done in the past half century or so (yeah, I started young, playing "who can jump out of the tree the highest")? No, because I believe/agree that the happenings and doings and decisions that we've made have in turn made us who we are today, and I think that I've turned out rather well. It took a good deal of patience on the Good Lord's part, but all in all I wouldn't trade me for someone else.
What I do regret, and what I think we all need to come to terms with and pardon ourselves for, is the harm we have inadvertently (or..what's the opposite..."advertently", I suppose) done to others.
Let me think of an example....okay. In high school, my boyfriend and some other buddies broke into the old Philadelphia Armory and stole two cases of soda. Then we drove down by the airport and drank Seven Up all night, watching the planes take off. (From there, I think we set off some cherry bombs, but it doesn't matter for our story here.) At the time, it was just one of those adventures that, as we said, make us who we are today.
But with grown-up hindsight, what about the security guard (assuming there was one.) Did he lose his job? Did the money lost in soda make a difference? Did the Armory have to make a new, expensive alarm system? We can't just assume there's no fallout.
The regret doesn't come from my own experiences, it comes from the "collateral damage" caused by recklessness, ignorance and arrogance. I suspect I left a pretty wide path of destruction. And *that*, my friends, is what I found I had to forgive myself for.
It just doesn't make as good a song.
(Hey, I did pretty well with "short"!)
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