I ♥ LESBOS

daughter and friend, Pride Parade 

This week, Wednesday, my daughter celebrates another birthday. To know my daughter is to know that she is all about her birthdays. She isn't a party girl in that sense of the word but a sentimental soul who appreciates acknowledgment especially in the form of cards (flowers and other trinkets).

I may have fed into her celebratory style over the years by stretching out the celebration, making cards, offering trinkets. On the event of her 30th, for instance, 30 days of testimonials on this blog.

This year is not a milestone year, but monumental none-the-less, because it just is.

This week, Wednesday is also National Coming Out Day.  Also a very momentous day for my daughter and me. She has stood with and supported me from the very beginning.  And of course, I have stood with her and supported her through her own coming out pronouncement. 

This year is not a milestone year but monumental none-the-less because we need the support of one another  as much, if not more than ever before thanks to the current political climate and rollbacks in protections established by the previous administration

I am pleased, honored, grateful to call my daughter my friend, my sister in arms. May she have a glorious birthday week, a fantabulous actual day of celebration and may all the out voices sing out loud, sing out proud toward supporting our sisters and brothers yet to take those tremouls steps toward living their truth.

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A Brand New Month

A neighbor's ode to Fall

I lost a book. It wasn't a very big book. Nor was it a very expensive book. But, I lost it and it is bugging me senseless. I bought this book a few years ago when I first became interested in adding more variety to my vegetable knowledge, palate, and plate.

As you may have surmised the book mostly sat on a shelf and my vegetable prowess remained status quo, with the same old notes being played and sung. Every few weeks the interest would re-emerge, the book would come out, some notes would be taken and then, nothing. 

The book would go back on the shelf in one clutter clearing frenzied moment to be forgotten about until the next time. 

Saturday just passed was the next time. All shelves checked. All stacks reviewed. No book. I can not only remember the last time I had it but of course, cannot remember where I stuck it. 

The book is lost. Heck, it may even be gone; donated to the Friends of the Library for the annual used book sale. But, while the book may be lost, the desire to add more variety to my vegetable knowledge, palate, and plate lives on. 

Next up: Spaghetti Squash.

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Where Were Are We?

Recent foggy morning

Two hurricanes ago (so pleased to know folks I know -even virtually- fared okay, so sorry for many other folks did not fare as well) we were talking about my battle with bulge and such.. More talk about that, to be sure. But having had some difficulty framing fully fleshed posts, I offer these snippets:

1. My older brother who lives in Austin, TX is ignoring efforts of outreach from my younger brother and me. He does not want to be bothered. He had a birthday (Happy 59th) on the 6th of this month--which also happened to be the 5th anniversary of our father's death. 

2. I joined an FB based writing group of virtual friends and some former blogging buddies. Four prompts in and I haven't written a word. I'm not sure I'm up for these challenges. I may not stay. It may be too much to ask at this time. 

3.Getting over a cold which hit hard and fast. Never a pleasant way to usher in a new season. 

4. FALL? FALL! IT is nearly (officially) Autumn!! What da duck? 

5. My work has been crazy challenging, frustrating, and . . . exhausting. But, on some level, fun. 

6. Insurance companies are, by and large, horrible. Okay, some insurance companies. 

7. This recent battle with bulge and more has revealed that while I love collecting recipes, looking for and finding, interesting dishes to prepare that will fit within my goals, I feel overwhelmed at the idea of actually preparing any of these dishes. 

8. I don't really (have never, really) like cooking. Though, the process intrigues me.  

9. Yet, I've been told I'm a pretty good cook. Go figure. 

10. Still, I did manage to take some known ingredients in different, healthy, delicious directions.     

11. I'm not having a fireworks celebration or anything, but I did manage to get the scale needle to move in the other (correct) direction over the past couple of weeks. 

12. The real measure of success though, for me, shall be the too tight slacks being noticeably less tight. 

13. My brothers, dad, and aunt (A turning 80 this month) had me thinking, of course, out loud and in living color, about my mother. The  FB "On This Day" feature reminded me of something I posted in 2012 about a conversation she and I had. I may have written about it here, I didn't check because frankly, I was stunned by the memory. 

14. Everything from 2012, leading to February 2013 kicked up for me in recent weeks. 

15. All that said, and sickness aside, this old body managed to average 9,886 over the last seven days--topping off at 12,008 one of those days. 

Have yourself a pleasant Monday / week.
                                                           

                                                                       

More to Enjoy

Put Me In Coach

Sometime over the last few days, I ran across a piece of paper dated January 10, 2012. This paper is peppered with notes from a webinar I must have watched.   

Among the notes scribbled written very neatly on this piece of paper was: Set SMART Goals "SMART" being an acronym for: 

 Specific Meaningful Achievable Rewarding Time based 

And Drop 'All or Nothing' Thinking  AND Make IT Fun 

Game On. 

                                                                 

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Taken

Grassy Bowls

You know the difference between 11,572 steps and 9,654 steps?  Four aspirin.  Or rather, that is how much more my body (especially my knees and ankles) hurt the day after the 11,572 steps. Keep in mind that next day was a workday; granted, it was Friday but still, a body had to function.

So, four aspirin. (not all at once). And more steps. Friday's count: 8,760.

Yes, there must be more (steps) and more than the lifestyle adjustment. The first full week of beginning on this journey again has been a little painful, and a little fun. And to be frank, a little eye-opening.

Week One. Taken.
                                                                     

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Mom, Memory, and Me

Not my Kitchen 

My birthday a few weeks ago kicked up all sorts of memories of my mom (a big fan of birthdays and birthday cakes) as you might imagine. And just a few days later the FB "On This Day" feature kicked up this status: 

My mom asked, "so, what does avocado taste like? Describe the taste to me." I was struck to come up with anything that she might have eaten that would resemble even remotely avocado. She's never even had guacamole. One of her docs suggested incorporating them into her diet. She is, well,  resistant

That, from August 9, 2012. Some days later, after much describing and cajoling, I shared mango (another doctor suggestion) and avocado with my mom. As an aside: my mom was not what one would call a culinary adventure seeker. If one could call mango, avocado, (and fresh pineapple--another step we'd taken recently) culinary adventures. Mango received raved reviews. Avocado did not, though she did try, in the short time (mom died 2/18/2013) to add avocado to her diet.   

I mention all of this because, well, it has been on my mind. But, especially because I am in the midst of my own dietary adjustments. For me, it isn't so much about adding things like mango or avocado but about subtracting things like fried and less than healthy snack foods. 

Well, adding water. I could drink more water. 

My doctor and other clinic personnel were the only people other than myself know the following: 

HT: 5.6 1/2  WT. 263.2 LBS Pre-hypertensive Pre-diabetic      I lay bare these truths as I have been tiptoeing around this issue for the last few years.   

No more.  

                                                           

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Maybe Someday

                                                    . . . . . . . we can add, peacefully.

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