RUMINATIONS ON A MORNING AT THE MALL....

I had a coupon. And the flyer showed a sale, plus - a shirt on the cover that I thought I might like. I woke up bright and early and said -"Today's the day". You see - Friday is my day off and NONE of my clothes fit. I have some really old items that I have pulled out of boxes, but none of them are summer things...you get the picture. I pulled on some jeans (you don't even want to know how I keep them up!), an ancient black embroidered peasant blouse, my red walking sandals and over to the next town I went (Seeing as how the flyer was for JCPennys, and we lost our Pennys last year) - to the BIG mall..  Going to the mall has lost it's luster for me over the years - Fat lady clothes are ugly - nothing ever fits - everything is so expensive - I could go on, but I will spare you. Today, however, in light of my 30 pound weight loss, I figured I might snag SOMETHING...and as previously stated, I had a coupon! I pulled into the parking lot, excited about my mall time - all by myself! No Forever 21 or Claires or PacSun for me - nope, just stores I wanted to go in.....just me!
   I entered the dressing room, loaded for bear. They, of course, did NOT have the shirt featured on the cover of the sale flyer - but I found a number of suitable options. Amazingly....everything fit...or was too big! Doing the happy dance, I reached for the next to last item. Just as I had it halfway over my head, the lady in the dressing room next to mine put her cell phone on speaker. From her one sided conversation I had already surmised that she was talking to her one true love, and that they were headed out of town for the weekend.I can only hope that in her fervor, she didn't realize she had pushed the speaker button - because what transpired next had no place in the Fat Ladies dressing room at the JC Penneys! (Or in ANY dressing room for that matter!) The boyfriend on the other end of the phone proceeded to explain to my dressing room neighbor - in excruciating detail,(And, unfortunately and inadvertently to me and everybody else within shouting distance) - just how many ways till Sunday he was going to take care of her....you know....in the carnal, pornographic kind of way...Let me just say, that I'm not sure I have ever even heard of some of the things he was suggesting - there I stood, hands over my head - pretty green shirt halfway on - frozen to the spot. What to do?! Should I speak up, and let her know that her steamy little confab was going out on the open airwaves?! Should I run out of the dressing room (after I finished putting the green shirt on) and get a salesclerk to attend to the problem? NO - I did what any 52 year old red blooded American  woman would do....I sat down on the little bench, rocked back and forth with both hands over my mouth, and shook with laughter - silent, so as not to disturb the mood! Lord have MERCY, what a hoot I had - and, if truth be told,  I also got an education on the current sexual practices of today's young couples!
   I was dying to catch a glimpse of the woman who could inspire such passion from a disembodied male voice, but it was not to be. I left the dressing room, used my coupon, made my purchases (I bought the green shirt, and will always remember the circumstances under which I tried it on - every time I wear it!), and journeyed deep into retail heaven. In one store, out the next...I discovered that I am really between sizes - and celebrated the victory of three and one half sizes smaller! I went into Dillards, and tried things on that weren't even on sale - just for fun! After a couple of hours, my dogs were barking, and my stomach was rumbling - so I meandered up to the food court. As the escalator made it's way to the top, I suddenly realized that I might be in trouble. Sbarro's pizza? Nope.....Subway.....Nope. That Baked Potato place that I love.....nope. Let's just say that a Mall Food Court is not exactly Atkins friendly! I solved the problem by walking past all of the places handing out chicken samples (None of whom would sell me just the meat without the rice and noodles at a lesser charge), and taking a couple from each place (Heck - they offered, I just accepted). And there you have it - a yummy protein filled lunch on the go - at no charge! A few sips from the water fountain, and I was once again pounding the pavement. Headed for the Belks, I passed a kiosk that sells those insanely priced flat irons. This is of note, because in all of the times that I have walked past this little place in the last 10 years, never once has anyone given me any notice. Not even when I stopped to look at the product. Today, a young foreign man said "lookin' good lady - let me give you a free hairdo.....do you use flat iron? Hey lady....." I smiled and said "Thanks, no...." and he pursued me "aww, c'mon....." "No - really - I don't want a free hairdo, but thanks."  As I continued walking, I thought back to the perfume counter at Dillards, and the make up counter - and in every store I went in today....people were anxious to help me, WANTED to wait on me. In the last few years, I have had to practically BEG salespeople to help me when I was looking for a certain item, or had a question, or even wanted to pay.....and with that realization, I got mad. Because the difference between today, and all of the other times can be tallied in pounds - 30 of them. And as I started to stew, it occurred to me that things had changed in other places too....my butcher at the Teeter no longer calls me Dearie. Last week, he called me the pretty chicken lady ( I know....I buy WAY too much chicken), and one of the teenaged cashiers commented yesterday -"Hey, cool necklace". A nice complement, unless you factor in how many times I have worn that same necklace in her line over the last two years, and she never took note. In my insular world, it never occurred to me that I was invisible - or worse: visible and ignored....and here's the kicker...I'm still fat....I'm just not nearly So fat....evidently, as discriminatory practices go - there must be levels...you know - "would one of you please step off the scales" fat, stuffed sausage fat, pleasantly fat, and so on.....My anger was tempered by the feel of the bags in my hand - proof positive of my progress. It reminded me that I am not responsible for other peoples views - I can't change anyone but me....and I am changing - day by day, minute by minute. Today I passed up Baskin Robbins Ice Cream, The Cookie Shop, and the big Candy Store. Today, I looped the mall not once but three times (three floors), and didn't even breathe hard. Today, I overheard the phone call of a lifetime. Today, I bought some cute clothes that should tide me over until, pray God, I loose the next 30 pounds. As I walked back to my car, I did so with visions of my next visit to the mall...when I might just not even have to shop in the Fat Lady Department (God willing). The sky was a bright Carolina Blue, the temperature was perfect, and the wind (which is my favorite thing) was whipping - I rode home with all the windows down....it's a good thing I didn't take that cute fella up on his offer of the free hairdo.....I would have ruined it, in my breezy abandon!
 

For better or worse - but never for granted....

    It was a long trip home from Nashville. We had just spent four days packed with laughter filled, frenzied, joyous, Wedding preparation - celebrating the marriage of my youngest niece to her one true love. I did lots of things to try to stay awake (I have to help John drive from my perch in the passenger seat, you know....). I sang at the top of my lungs, I swapped funny stories with the kids (all three of them - even College boy was truant for a few days!), I played the "If I could go on any dream vacation, I would go to _____" game in my head, caught a couple of daydreams, and still I managed to doze off once or twice.We stopped for awhile, when we dropped College Boy off on his side of the mountain - we ate some supper, exchanged hugs and kisses, and set back on the road to home, one passenger lighter. It was on that stretch of road, the one that has become so familiar to us, that I started in on the heavy thinking. Replaying memories of the Bride - as a toddler, as a young, exceedingly active girl, as a teen full of angst - My favorite memory was the most recent - that of her beautiful face, as I handed her the wedding bouquet that I had made. The bouquet that I had dreamed and fretted about for months - what the composition should be - the colors - the flowers. Endless nights of just before sleep planning...hours on Pinterest (yeah, well - that one is not such a hardship), all of it was worth it - for that one instant - the look on her face - the love and excitement....priceless, and never to be forgotten. Naturally, my thoughts then strayed to my other nieces....I have done the wedding flowers for two of the three, and I sang at all of their weddings...I was then poleaxed to remember that I had sung for both of my nephews as well - not for their weddings, but for their funerals. Both ends of the emotional spectrum - both a part of the circle of life. Funerals and Weddings - pinnacles of emotions - both tremendous catalysts to take stock of your life.        How much we take for granted.
   As we rode, I thought about things that I hoped I would never take for granted.....there were the usual suspects - family, home, work that I love - but I now have some new things in my life - things I hope I will appreciate every single day that I am blessed to have them - like no pain.....like being able to get out of a chair or sofa without relying on the nearby table to pull myself up....like having a mind that is clear and focused....like having enough energy to work late into the night, and wake up at the crack of dawn ready to begin again....like not having to lay down after a trip to the grocery store....like looking in my closet and knowing that everything in it is too big (with the exception of the new wedding dresses and 2 other shirts I bought to get me through the next couple of sizes, and a few really old, beloved items that I have hung in plain site to motivate me to once again be able to put them on my body).
   In the interest of full disclosure - I. ate. wedding. cake....and fries....and Texas Toast.....and biscuits...and maybe a few pieces of chocolate off of the candy bar at the wedding.....and Coke...I drank one Coke, and to my delight and my disgust, it tasted like Fletchers Castoria - you know, that Childrens Laxative that our Mothers gave us back in the 60's. At the end of four days I regained four pounds. Yet here we are....four days later, and I have lost those four. I like the symmetry of the whole thing Four days, four pounds gained....four days, four pounds lost. But most of all, I like that I was able to go right back to my diet....and yes, it is a diet - not a "lifestyle change" (that is the second phase of this process) I didn't think, as I would have previously, "Oh well...I blew it, I might as well keep on eating". I thought instead "This was one of lifes great joys - celebrating with family over food....and cake....and steak and biscuits - a life event to be treasured and enjoyed to the fullest". These past four days have also been an event to be treasured - to eat bacon, and kale chips, and Almond Milk, and Cauliflower - for supper AND for breakfast, cause I swear it tasted just like the Cracker Barrel Hashbrown Casserole.To realize that I am stronger than I was before. I remain optimistic that I can see this to the end - to regain my health, to look better, and most of all - to feel better. For better, for worse - but never for granted!
  

Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead.....

  A friend of mine posted a before and after photo on his FaceBook page a few days ago (the picture was not of him, but of a lady who had switched to "clean eating" )....the caption was "Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead". Even as I chuckled, it spoke to me. These last 4 years have been brutal on my body. Comfort eating, worry eating, stress eating...you name it - I have been guilty of it.....I was Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead.
   About four weeks ago, I went shopping for an outfit for my nieces wedding...all day..... encompassing two cities....nothing. I fell in love with two things, but one wouldn't even button, and the other - well, it's best not to even think about it, it looked so hideous. At the end of the day, I was exhausted. My knees and hips hurt so badly I limped from the car to the house, and barely made it to the sofa. As I laid on the sofa, a calm voice inside my head whispered, "This. must. stop." Three little words....so quiet...so simple. And in that moment, I took a raw, honest inventory of my person. I had constant pain, my energy level was non-existent. I was constantly covered in a blanket of malaise. My mind felt foggy - all the time.....muddy and so very sad. In the deepest recesses of my heart, I feared that the best of my life was behind me, and that nothing was before me.....Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead........."This. must. stop."
     The day after the shopping fiasco, I started the Atkins Diet. Many years ago, I had great success with Atkins - it was familiar, so I decided what the heck, let's go with that. Let me say, that the first week was much rougher this go round. I had terrible sugar withdrawals. On day 3 and 4 I was in such rough shape I didn't even leave the house. My family gave me a wide, yet supportive berth. On day five, I woke up a different person. My mind was crystal clear...I had energy to spare! My knees didn't hurt - no pain in my back or hip. At the risk of sounding hokey, it was nothing short of miraculous.
     It is now three weeks and 4 days since I started my diet, and I have lost 20 pounds. Both of the catalyst outfits are hanging in my closet - two sizes smaller than I wore on that fateful day of shopping....one for the rehearsal - one for the wedding. I bound out of bed in the morning, not dreading the day, but embracing it. I can now take the steps foot over foot, instead of the Grandma way of both feet on each step..... I. have. no. pain. My skin looks five years younger. All of my clothes are indecently big....I can bend over and pick things up off of the floor. I have discovered a love of  home made Kale Chips, roasted broccoli, and water. Do you know how many good "no carb" recipes you can find on Pinterest?
   For me.....sugar is poison. I know I have a long way to go, but I am now a quarter of the way there, and I already feel like a different person. I am praying, every day, for the strength and commitment to make a permanent lifestyle change. Maybe one day, I will be able to eat sugar in moderation, like normal people... but if not, I will gladly swap the Cokes and all the rest for the ability to feel like I do now....clear headed and hopeful....a much better alternative to Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead. 

Giradelli Apocalypse.....

       I love a good magazine. Decorating, Lifestyle, Women's, Food, Travel (OK, fine....I will admit to the guilty pleasure of sometimes enjoying a gossip rag too). In the throes of our "New Normal" household state of  economics, one of the first of the"luxury items" to be cut was magazine purchasing. That might explain my tendency to take some time glancing at the offerings on the big magazine rack at the Teeter when shopping day rolls around. Today was a treat....all of the new magazines had been shelved - Southern Living, Womens Day, Better Homes and Gardens....all with the most beautiful covers. Flowers and gardens and picnic blankets replete with lovely springtime food on fancy picnicware....(Never mind the fact that outside the big plate glass windows you could see big snowflakes blowing in the wind....). As I tried to decide which beauty to peruse,  I came across a brightly colored magazine....High quality paper, beautiful fonts, lovely name....Peach Days.....I think my eyes knew that something was not quite right before my brain did.Upon closer inspection, the graphic on the front of the cover was a  smattering of survivalist tools, and under the Magazine title was the heading "Apocalypse Survival guide". Having just read a novel called A Second Later (or A Second After...I can't quite remember)  - my mind was already a little fried in regards to the whole survivalist thing. It revolves around the detonation of an EMP...you know, the kind of bomb that wipes out all electronics of any kind. It was not a terrifically written book, but it sure as heck was gripping. So much so, that I have spent  a lot of time in the past week thinking about how we would survive such a thing. Starvation, keeping warm, sanitary issues, transportation (All the batteries in vehicles were fried....in the book, I mean).
     As I picked up the magazine - I thought to myself that just the main article in this months issue must deal with surviving....but no! This fancy, somewhat snooty looking magazine - in. it's. entirety. - was devoted to Apocalyptic living. Picture of shelters that people have made preparatory to the commencement of Armageddon, Recipes for "Refuse Dining",Charts to help you determine which plants and berries will kill you, and which ones will just make you sick, How to acquire clothing, How to hide and defend yourselves....the more I read - the more freaked out I grew! I hastily reshelved the thing, and grabbed up a Southern Living......the periodical devoted to the opposite of Apocalyptic living! But by now, I am tainted. All the beautiful container gardens and raised beds full of Annuals pictured therein seemed a waste.....
quick - plant a survival garden in that elaborate ceramic planter.....that beautiful place setting on the back
veranda - those cloth napkins could be used for bandages if need be. That lovely recipe for Shrimp and Grits....what exactly IS the refuse conversion? That article on serene river vacations? Is that a little cave I spy, in the curve of the river - there in the rocky face of the bank? It could be used for Apocalyptic hunkering down.....
    I fling the Southern Living down - now ruined for me, at least for the day. As I shuffle my buggy towards the checkout - I pass a display of Easter Chocolate. Considering that I am on my fifth day of the Atkins Diet, THAT certainly took my mind off of all things Apocalyptic....until I remembered that yesterday, I turned down the offer of a free piece of  Giradelli chocolate from the sales pitch man in WalMart......If THAT doesn't indicate the immediate onset of the Apocalypse, I don't know what does!!

Sunday Afternoon - Memory in the Making....

     They're all in there. If I look over my left shoulder, I can see them now as I sit here at the computer. About 30 minutes ago, I came into a state of wakefulness - eyes closed, snuggled under a quilt with Crackhouse Puppy (whose new name is Cinderblock because he weighs a ton!) asleep on my lap. I had napped so hard, on this - the First day of Daylight Savings Time, that it took me a few minutes to gather myself. We had slept so long that the T.V. had even shut itself off, due to inactivity. In the quiet of my dark little den, as I lay stretched out in the recliner, I listened for the sounds I love above all others - sounds that alerted me to the location of my loved ones. There was a stretchy, moany sound - Baby Girl must be sleeping on the sofa. Next came a chuffing kind of sound - Babiest girl was in the recliner next to mine. After a moment, I heard the sound that is so often missing here lately.....the thick sleepy throat clearing of College Boy. This was the catalyst that made my eyes open....we were all out of surfaces by my reckoning - sofa, and both recliners full of the Kennedy women. I released the lever on the LaZBoy, shoved the puppy off of my lap and sat up, thinking to find College Boy sitting in the kitchen - on the computer or some such. Just as I stood (no easy chore, since my feet were tangled in quilt and puppy), I heard it again - the same throat clearing that he has made in his sleep since before he could talk in complete sentences. Lo and behold - there he was....wrapped in the green afghan my Sister crocheted me for a wedding present - almost 25 years ago. College Boy was sleeping on the floor in front of the sofa - at the feet of Baby Girl.    
     That sight took me back to the days when child rearing was a full contact sport, and a nap was an unheard of thing. The time when my exhaustion was blinding, and the days ran together in their fullness. The days when the three Kennedy children would go at full speed - from the time their little feet hit the floor (and Lord knows they were all obscenely early risers), until they had each been wrestled into their respective beds for the umpteenth time. Every now and then, as a treat, they were allowed to sleep in the den on a pallet. Blanket piled on top of blanket, pillows from every room in the house - their nest was sumptuous and cozy. On these nights, they were eager to go to bed. There, on the floor of the den they would snuggle and whisper, giggle and dream out loud, until sleep came over them by surprise. They would lay like a tangle of puppies - arms and legs draped over each other - with no clear definition of where one body stopped and the other began. Sometime in the night, each time -I would come out of my bedroom, turn on the light in the kitchen and steal into the den. I would sit in a chair and watch them sleep, in the crack of light that spilled in from the kitchen. I would listen to their sleeping sounds, memorize their faces, and store those memories away for such a time as I might need them....like when they were off to college and driving and babysitting and other such big kid pursuits.
         But today, I do not need that memory - because they are all in there, making their sleeping sounds, wearing the sleepy faces, and needing to be awakened - otherwise, they will never sleep tonight. John will be home from work soon, and we will all sit down to breakfast for supper - a Sunday night favorite. The girls will play hookey from Youth, and we will go to the dollar movie - The Life of Pi, I think. I give thanks for Spring Break - for the week that we have before us to once again be a family of five. I give thanks that my growndy up Boy will still sleep at his sister's feet, that my children love each other. I give thanks for the guitars leaning up against the cabinets, and the myriad shoes strewn hither and yon, upstairs and down. I give thanks for the clementine peels that are piled on the kitchen counter, and the open door letting in the clean air that smells of sunshine and the promise of spring. I give thanks for the memory in the making, in my darkened den, dirty dishes and all...........now, if I could just have that hour back.......

Tweaking the starter.....

     My bread won't rise. I've tried heating the oven on low and putting the dough in to rest....I've put a pan of boiling water  alongside the dough in the oven - none of my little tricks are working. I hope this doesn't mean my starter has died....maybe it's just the damp cold....maybe the barometric pressure is wonky. I've decided I am going to separate the dough anyway, put it in the loaf pans and try a second rise....the thing about it is - I kind of feel like my dough - I just can't be bothered to rise. Maybe it's this nasty cold I've got .....maybe it's the season of my life....maybe it's all of the changes in the past months, but I sure am ready for a "second rise" - praying that my starter hasn't died.
     Here's the thing about living in the same small town you grew up in - you are always running into someone from your past - a friend, a boyfriend, someone you didn't like, parents of your friends.....Yesterday, I was happy to run into the Mother of one of my favorite friends from High School. He grew up and away - living a life of excitement and importance as a Doctor specializing in Infectious Disease - he's been to Africa to research AIDS and new treatment methods, he's worked in major cities all over the U.S....his has been a life of service and difference making, and I have been so proud of him - watching from afar. Yesterday, standing in the cold rain at the entrance to the Teeter, his Mom told me that he has started a new career - left the practice of Medicine for a job in research - she laughed and said that he felt if he was ever going to branch out, it might as well be now. I answered that he was young enough to have a long and successful second career. We said our goodbyes, I turned to take up my grocery bags and was pole axed. I said it....out of my own mouth - "he is young enough to have a long and successful second career".....He. Is. My. Age.             I think I faced it for the first time yesterday......I. am. not. old....I just feel old.....like my life is over.....yet my dear friend is young enough to have a successful second career.
   His starter appears to be in good working order....mine obviously needs a little nudge.....an oven set to warm, or a pan of boiling water tucked up next to me....but where to find it? How to tweak it, so I rise....not sit in a doughy clump at the bottom of the bowl? The painful truth is - I am old of my own making. Not chronologically....I think of my friend as young enough to start over.....where, then...where am I old? In my thinking? In my heart? In my spirit?
    In bread making terms, it is obviously time to feed the starter.......So I turn to you, my friends...how have you done it? Have you ever found yourselves in need of an overhaul? Have you been successful in lifting yourselves up...in tweaking your starter? Do you mind sharing the recipe.....it just so happens I seem to be in need of a new one.

Sciatic Shuffle

    One should never do the extended version of the Cha-Cha Slide when their Sciatic nerve is on the fritz.....I'd like to think that I sat down at the computer in the kitchen to write tonight because of my burning need to express myself...but it could just as easily be because of the burning in my shoulder and hip, and my need to rest before attempting the steps that lead to my bed! You see....we had a dance tonight....at the Church....that's right....at the Baptist Church. Young people....old people....and all kinds of in between people. A Valentines Dinner/Dance, with beautiful decorations, Steak, and a most excellent play list for the dancing - beach music, Moves Like Jagger music, Twist music, fun line dancing music, and of course - a little bit of Romantic Music....it is almost Valentines, after all. I wish I could download my memory - so that you could see the pictures I am seeing, as I sit here - sciatic nerve in my hip throbbing - foot slightly numb....But I'll do my best to describe it - because it really was quite a night. Our new Youth Minister is a dancing machine - he's my  Hero, because he did the unthinkable...he made the dancing seem cool and fun - and before you knew it, Middle School boys were dancing with Middle School girls - high school girls were dancing with each other...the High School Boys....well...you can't win 'em all! Fathers were dancing with Daughters, Mothers were dancing with Sons (I sure did miss College Boy), Teens dancing with the "old folks", and the four and five year olds were dancing with helium balloons that had once been centerpieces! "Pillars" of the community were ripping off their bow ties, swinging them over their heads Gagnum Style, and having a blast. A beloved Gentleman who is slowly forgetting himself and those around him, cut quite a figure as his sense memory guided him as he danced - a beautiful slow dance.
    I love to dance - always have, always will - and it was fun to teach a 13 year old how to dance to Beach Music, nice to slow dance with my sweetie, and worth every minute of  Sciatic agony I will experience tonight -  to Cha-Cha Slide, do the YMCA, the Macarena, the Cupid Shuffle, the Twist....The familiarity of our Fellowship, the joy we felt from laughing and playing together turned the ordinary into the extraordinary. In the grand scheme of Society, our Valentines Dance was a little thing - hardly worth notice, really....except, to my way of thinking, it was so much more. It was 1st Graders in Beautiful dresses....2 little guys enthralled with pink and red helium balloons, and using them as dance partners....a celebration of a 61st Anniversary.....it was a gaggle of teen-aged girls gathered around the handsome exchange student....it was a team of men, adorned with Aprons, cooking for a multitude......it was a time for splitting the last piece of pie...a time for thoughtful teens, bringing coffee to their elders....a time for laughter and family and kinship........it was a celebration of a young widow and widower - how they found each other and blended their children into one big beautiful new family.... a time to forget the aches and pains that make days a  chore.... it was a simple pleasure of togetherness, baked potatoes, and heart paper chains....the best of Life - for this Mid Life Wife.