Wednesday, October 29, 2008


I am jealous. So jealous I can hardly even be friendly, let alone interested.

I have a good friend who had gastric by-pass surgery four months ago. She has already lost 60+ pounds. She needed the surgery. It will give her her life back. I am glad she did it. And I almost can't stand to talk to her.

She wants to talk about renewed energy and new clothes and getting off medications. I just want to hang up the phone. You know why? In my heart of hearts...I feel she cheated. My head knows what a wonderful thing this is for she and her family. My heart wants to cut off all contact with her. She took the easy way out. I know this is stupid thinking. I know what the surgery entails and the lifelong consequences. And still I am still pissed that she got to do this and I didn't. She will be thin and not have to worry every darn day about the pounds coming back. I will have to struggle and worry forever (maybe) about my fat. Why wasn't I allowed to take the "easy" option too?

I am not fat enough, and never have been.

I think my high was about 255. I quit weighing at 248 so I am not sure. My friend is my height and age and was way over that. Her fat was killing her. Mine just made me vaguely miserable. And still does. I always, for the most part, was able to do what I wanted to do. I just looked awful and suffered with society's stigma about fat people. I still do.

This has all got me to thinking about, for me, when good enough will really be good enough. Francis wrote a blog a couple of weeks ago about the things she wants in her life. I was shocked to discover I already have most of the things she so desperately wants. The main thing in my life that I allow to make me miserable is my perceived inability to lose my fat forever.

Am I wasting my life? Have I wasted the past thirty years on this issue? I think maybe I have. Will I waste more time valuable time? God I hope not.

We are still limping along with our broken computer as the computer guy went hunting.

Take care of yourselves. Love Lynn

Friday, October 24, 2008

All Quiet

On the Western Front. Gorgeous day here. Cold as all get out. Was fifteen degrees this morn. Another fast post. I am trying to get the laundry hung out while the sun shines!

Just finished another book by Adelle Davis, "Let's Get Well." I love her. She advocates lots of B vitamins and also 2-4 thousand mg or mcg (can't remember) of vitamin D. Hi Tonja. You will know. When we get to Jackson or Idaho Falls I will get some. She also advocates oil every three hours. This I am doing in the form of nuts, nut butters, avocados, mayo and salad dressings. Am also low carbing. I didn't plan any of this. It just sort of happened. I think I am losing. I am not weighing...cause I don't want to. I am trying to walk on the treadmill daily and doing yoga three times per week. Amazing how much time it takes to take care of yourself! And how I have to fight with myself to take the time.

The three books I mentioned last time are, "Self Nurture" by Alice D. Domar, "Getting Through the Day" by Nancy J. Napier and "French Toast for Breakfast" by Mary Anne Cohen. I got them all at a used book store. "Getting Through the Day" was the most eyeopening for me. I knew I could put my "self" on hold but did not recognize the reasons why or the extent to which I had done this until I read the book. This author showed me how to feel my emotions and locate their source. For instance, this morning while playing with the dog she swung her tug toy and hit me in the eye with it. Hurt like heck. I started to cry, but not from the pain exactly. As I let myself cry I was flooded with memories of being hit in the face by my foster mother. She always hit me when I least expected it. Hurt like heck. Normally I would not have let myself cry because the emotion was not "in line" with the incident. But today I did. Hooray for me.

Okay now I have to go and hang out the sheets and towels. By the by, I may be gone for awhile. This computer is on the fritz. We are taking it to the computer hospital next week. I will write when we get it back.

Take care of yourselves. I miss you all. Love Bea

Sunday, October 19, 2008

New Beginnings

This is going to be fast as I am supposed to be putting the finishing touches on my Sunday school lesson.

I am reading three books all saying the same thing, "take care of yourself." One is even from a Christian perspective! I am ruminating at all times about the new info I am being given. One of the books talks a lot about dissociation. Turns out this is me. One of the books talks about habit vs. addiction. Surprise, surprise, my "out of control" eating turns out to be more habitual than addictive. The last of the books is about "turning the other cheek" and "the Good Samaritan." My upbringing has left me beset with guilt for not being a good Christian. This book talks about believing vs. doing "good works." I will write more later about all of these tomes.

I am dreaming about food. Almost every night. And mountains. In the dreams I am scaling mountains and can't stand the sight of food! I wake up nauseated at the visions of sugarplums dancing in my head. Very strange but progress I think.

Sorry I am not reading blogs. I will be back. We are still preparing like mad for winter. The snow melted and we are winterizing the house. Mark got the storm windows done and we are now buying plywood to put around the foundation of the house. They do this here so the weight of the snow will not pack down the soil around the foundation. Works for me. Hope all of you are doing well.

Take care. Love Bea

Saturday, October 11, 2008


And how. Three or four inches since noon and Montana is getting it worse than we are.

Mark is in the basement re-making the rickety storm windows we threw together last year. We are more prepared for this storm than the first one of the season in 2007. I spent last week washing windows and curtains and blankets and rugs. Was fine weather for drying stuff on the line. We put all the lawn furniture away and took down the wasp catchers. I covered my rose bush and pulled up the geraniums and put them in paper bags in the basement. I raked up a bushel of windfall half rotten apples. We reinforced the new gutter system on the garage. I made some stew.

I am looking forward to this winter. I am going to rest. I have about a million books I am longing to read and I am going to see if I still remember how to sew. I need to hibernate. I have a bunch of stuff weighing on my mind and I want to sort it all out. I can't sort anything while running from hither to yon in the bright sunshine. The "silver days" as Mentor Mary calls them are just what the doctor ordered I think. Much as I raz Helen about the California sunshine, I don't think I would like it. I need winter. It somehow settles my soul.

Speaking of soul, I need to go and put together my Sunday School lesson for tomorrow. I am teaching the adult class again this year. We are going to continue on in Exodus. It may take us forty years to finish.

Take care of yourselves and STAY WARM. Love Bea

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Murder in Yellowstone

Every year when we visit the park Mark makes up a new murder scenario. This year no imagination was required, the plots presented themselves.

To see Grand Prismatic Spring you have to walk up hill for a fair distance. It was warm on Saturday afternoon. As we were climbing up toward the Spring we encountered a couple in their (?)70's. Both were well groomed for an afternoon of shopping, not hiking. In addition to his tasseled loafers and golf sweater the man was also sporting blue tinged skin. Cyanotic as all get out. He had stopped walking and was wheezing and gasping for air. People were crowding around him to continue up the board walk. I slowed down thinking we might have to launch into CPR. Since we slowed down people began passing us, momentarily trapping us next to this couple. The wife, cool and composed in lavender and white, and that was just her hair, was urging her obviously seriously compromised husband forward. "You always do this. We can't ever go anywhere without you making a scene. There is nothing wrong with you that a little exercise wouldn't cure. Close your mouth when you breath. I have waited years to see this and I am going to see it. I wanted to see it with you but if you are going to just stand there I am going on ahead." And she did. We waited a moment to see if he was going to be okay and then we also left. If she took him to the Canyon or Tower Falls he is now a dead duck.

The other potential murderers we first encountered in a grocery store in West Yellowstone (a small Montana town just outside the park) at eight o'clock in the morning. They were from some eastern European country. There were six of them. Three couples. We were buying water and apples. They were buying booze. Each couple had a cart full to the brim with wine and beer. They were having a gay old time. We paid for our stuff and wished we could be invited to the evening's festivities. We next ran across the group at one of the stops along the Fire Hole River. They were slowly walking along the path talking at top speed and carrying glasses of wine. One of the men was toting a gallon jug and was frequently topping off everyone's glass. We bumped into these folks at various places for most of the day. At each stop they were more inebriated. They were driving a huge tan van. At 5PM we saw them stopped at a pull out. The driver was asleep in the driver's seat in the sun. His compatriots were still toasting one another. I hope they made it back to their hotel without killing anyone.

Markovian Theory: Cod liver oil is "fishist." Why can't local trout livers be used for oil? It is because the Government and the Eastern Cod Liver Treader's Union are in cahoots convincing people that only cods' livers are healthy enough to be squeezed for oil. This is a blatant lie, and it is depriving people in this valley of a badly needed industry. Think how much money "the little guy" could make if he just purchased a Ronco Fish Liver Squeezer. Heck, he spends most of his time fishing anyway, and the wife could quick run the trout through the machine after she cleaned them before she cooked them. He could use the empties from the fishing trips to bottle the stuff and then use the wife's craft stamp to print "Squeezed by number 32" on the labels. The whole process would cost almost nothing, make money, and not cut into his hunting time at all.

I am in good spaces. Take care of yourselves. Love Bea