Dear Ethel,

2012-02-01T11:11:00.002-07:00

Sunshine today. Still ten below on north side of the house. All is white with the world.

Have lost five pounds as of today. Will probably go up by tomorrow as Husband's birthday celebration is tonight and I will eat pasta and cake, his favorites. I am prepared for a temporary increase and do not intend to go off the deep end about it. I am in it (food plan) for the long haul this time.

Had a birthday myself recently. I am now 55 years old. Seems weird but I am grateful, my mother died at 48. I have begun to get the weirdest mail. I got an add from a "scooter store." If I bought one of these scooters, according to the promotion, I would be doing wheelies in the parking lot in a matter of minutes. I don't think so. I have also begun to get catalogs advertising catheters and shower chairs. Come on. I may be a bit creaky in the knees on cold mornings but I am not yet ready for all this senior paraphernalia. Since when did 55 get to be the cut off age for youth? Like Jean Brodie, I believe myself to still be in my prime. Apparently I am the only one.

My first counseling session is today. I am hoping to work on trust. I think this is my main issue. Mebbee not. We'll see.

All done for another week.

Love Bea

Community

2012-01-25T09:43:00.002-07:00

Morning all. Blog day is here. Is cold again this a.m.. More snow in the forecast. Has been foggy for the last couple of days. The inversion traps the fog in the valley and we live for a few days in old London. I sure miss the sun.

I love this laptop. I am sitting in my easy chair in the living room. I am beside a window trying to get some light. The birds are at the feeder eating me out of house and home. Last year I was stuck using Husband's computer upstairs. I had to wear gloves and hat to stay warm. Not so now. As with most old houses there is heat under the window. I have a cup of tea at my elbow and two dogs asleep on the floor at my feet. The cats are on the back of the sofa watching birds through the picture window at the other feeder. All in all, just a dandy situation.

Had a bad eating day Monday. Husband did not come home for lunch as planned. My routine was altered and so my external control was weakened. Don't know why I need routine to maintain control over my eating but it is so. I am grateful to recognize it. I went nuts. Ate a jar of salsa and half a bag of mints along with multiple cheese sandwiches. The binge lasted all afternoon until Husband returned home in the evening. I felt like a worm. A stuffed worm. Had a good cry, talked to God about my out of controlness and went early to bed.

I don't know why my inner control is so weak. I believe I can control people and situations in my life. I labor at controlling people and situations in my life. I can't control people and situations in my life. I don't believe I can control myself so I don't even try. I probably can control myself. I think I have things bassackwards.

I have set up rigid outer controls to make up for my lack of inner control. My "shoulds". Bells and bright lights need to be going off here. This is a huge insight for me. The outer controls, my routine and order, sort of work but are punishing to maintain. I would like to have order and peace inside and have it flow out on to my environment. I start counseling next Wednesday. Christian counseling. I am looking forward to some help.

"You have not because you ask not." Yup. That would be me. I am asking. It is scaring the crap out of me. Community is where I will receive healing for my broken places. I attended my third catechism class last eve. Will the Catholic Church be part of my new community? Don't know. Is a long stretch to give up sola scriptura and the sole authority of Christ. And all that confessing, how humiliating. Just what I need. Less isolation, even in my relationship with God.

Okay all done. Today is my day off. (A housewife does not get days off unless she takes them.) I am going to read and take hounds for a walk.

Pray for me as I will for thee. Love Lynn

Sea Change

2012-01-18T08:33:00.002-07:00

There is a lake somewhere in Africa or India that turns over once a year. All the debris from the bottom is washed up into the light of day. Something like that is happening to me.

I have lost three pounds. Not much for two weeks of more controlled eating. It is taking me a long time to get back into the swing of things. A "clean" kitchen and pantry do not happen overnight. I am using up the items I bought that are not so beneficial for me. As these run out I buy the healthy stuff. (Once again I am delighted to realize meat and veg are cheaper than processed food.) I don't care that I am off to a slow start. This is not so much about weight loss this time. It is about surrendering my desire to have what I want when I want it. I have spent years gratifying most of my desires. The fact that my desires are modest does not mitigate my out of controlness. With money also. Just because we are not dead broke does not excuse my buying stuff I should not be buying. I want a better life. I can envision the life I want. I have a promise from God for a better life, IF I DO MY PART. I am going to do my part. I am going to be out of debt (minimal prob) and thinner (maximal prob). I am asking God for help every step of the way.

I am a person who likes order. I have felt bad about this desire even while realizing it is a God given part of my personality. Hard to live an out of control life while loving order. Makes me hate myself. I finally get it. God is not a god of chaos. My need for order is a blessed state. I can pursue order to my heart's content. Order not perfectionism. Order leaves margin for error. Mine and other people's. Perfectionism brooks no failure anytime, anyplace or in anyone.

Back to doing my part. I am making change one baby step (thanks Vickie) at a time. Order is motivated baby steps. Perfectionism is turning the world upside down for overwhelming immediate change.

First Baby Step: I pray daily for patience and perseverance. I have outlined my weak areas. I pray in the mornings for God to strengthen me in these specific areas. That is it for now

Animals are fine. Abby new cat is getting cuter and cuter. Weather is cold. Way below zero most mornings. Has warmed up and is snowing. Is that better? Not sure. Husband has cabin fever. Mee too. Okay off to the races. See you next week.

Lynn

Lost In The Fog

2012-01-11T09:08:00.002-07:00

The second week of the new year. Who would have thunk it?

Major trauma and drama at our church. Some of us are struggling with the preaching of the idea of Universal Salvation in our fairly traditional setting. A few people have quit over the issue. I attend because my husband is still fighting the good fight. I get my spiritual sustenance elsewhere. I attended a catechism class with a friend last eve. Very enlightening. Very humbling. I know a moderate amount of Catholic theology from a scholastic setting. I found a much different kettle of fish from the faithful themselves. I will be going back.

New kitten is not preggers. She has a massive case of intestinal parasites. Worms. Gad. This cat is costing us a fortune. She is cute and we are all still terrified of her. She bites and scratches if she does not get her way. She has a particular hate on for Jonah. Poor little dog is getting neurotic.

Still snow and still overcast. Has been in the 30's, a miracle for this time of year. I am enjoying it.

I am back on my food plan. (I have gained back 30 pounds.) I am beginning to feel better as the grogginess of two years of relapse is rolling off me. I got a mini-tramp for Christmas so am jumping around in the mornings. Way more fun than the dreaded tread mill. Nice to look forward to salads again instead of resenting them. I guess if you get sick enough the cure looks like privilege instead of punishment.

Okay done until next week. Love Lynn

Happy New Year

2011-12-28T13:14:00.002-07:00

Christmas is done. Yeah. I have a problem with Christmas. I sort of figured out what it was this year.

At Christmas time I feel judged and wanting.

1. My cooking. It is not good or plentiful enough. I feel obligated to bake and take confections to one and all. It takes me several batches of bread, cookies or candy to get an acceptable one to give as a gift. So I end up tired and frustrated, with a gob of rejects I then feel obligated to eat since I spent money and time on them.

2. My correspondence. I know and love a bunch of folks. I feel obligated to send a card to everyone with a personal note attached. I hate to correspond. I feel guilty for hating to correspond. I put off doing the cards until the last minute so I stress about them the whole season. I finally do them in one mad rush and end up tired and frustrated.

3. Gifts. I hate buying gifts. They cost money we don't have and I go into debt to purchase them. I never know what to get. I always feel like I have made a mistake with the gift or feel guilty for not sending one. Since I do not want to buy the gifts I put off purchasing them and add to the mad rush at the end. Frequently the gifts are late which shames me.

4. Decorating the house. First I have to clean everything. Baseboards, curtains, the lot. The cleaning takes days. Days I am also trying to cook, shop, correspond and entertain. When I get the cleaning done then we go get a tree and that whole process gets started. I do not enjoy decorating the tree. I feel guilty about this. I add decorations to our small house to make it festive. Except to me it does not look festive. I looks cluttered up with red and green stuff.

5. Entertaining. See 1 and 4. I about kill myself getting the food and the house perfect. By the time the guests arrive I hate them and can't wait for them to leave. I feel guilty about this also.

6. Parties. I do not fit into my good clothes. I feel fat, and panicked about the comparisons to the other thin women. Small talk wears me out even though I am good at it. I feel like I am on stage in tight clothing and uncomfortable shoes.

7. Food. OMG. Why do we make and serve so much food at Christmas. I am living on Gas-x and Rolaids. I can't not eat it, and feel bad about myself continually.

8. Christmas Cheer. I am angry and sad at this time of the year and am expected to smile all the time. I feel guilty because I resent it, the smiling.

9. Church. Gad. By the time we have a potluck to, decorate the church, wrap presents for the needy, celebrate the church's Christmas party, deliver presents and food to the needy, rehearse the Christmas play, celebrate the Choir Christmas party, go carolling, have the Sunday School class party, have the Christmas pageant, have the Christmas eve service and have the Christmas day service, I am about potlucked out. We still have to have another one to go to take down the decorations. See number 1. I feel really bad about not enjoying all of these opportunities to serve God.

10. Faith. I feel wanting because I gripe about Christmas. I should enjoy it. It is my Lord's Birthday.

What I learned. My low self-esteem and compensating perfectionism ruin Christmas for me. Until I have a better opinion of myself I need to keep Christmas simple. Next year by golly I am going to enjoy Christmas.

Happy New Year. Lynn

No Good Deed

2011-12-13T14:37:00.002-07:00

I did not want another cat. The darn little thing just scratched me, again. My face this time. My lip is bleeding and swelling up. Phooey. She is afraid of everything. So is new dog. He is so stressed out about the new cat he chewed a corner off the baseboard. I just stood and cried when I found it. I have company coming for dinner on Friday and wanted the house to look nice. It smells of cat and dog pee and now a prominent baseboard corner is gone. These animals are overwhelming me.

Their fear has made me think about my own fears, and God. How many times has God attempted to help me and make my life better and I have misunderstood His intentions and reacted from fear? Countless I am guessing. These animals have no faith in me. They do not trust me so they react in self protective ways when I try to help them. Just like me. I did not learn to trust as a child and I continue to always respond to new situations and people in a self protective mode. I act like this in spite of a strong belief in God and His love. And there's the rub. I suddenly perceive a difference between belief and faith. Belief comes from my intellect. Trust comes from my heart. And my heart is still damaged. I long and look for a time when I will react from pure trust. Until then I will continue to walk out my belief in sometime fear. I hope when in future I scratch some innocent person they and I will recognize fear at work and make allowances.

Counseling is expensive. Our insurance may cover it after the deductible is met. It is December and our money is ALL spoken for this month. We have a high deductible. I do not want to put more money on the credit card. I am torn. What is more sensible, what is more faithful? Beats me. So I wait.

Take care. Love Lynn

Gulp

2011-12-09T15:18:00.002-07:00

Didn't know anyone was still out there. I will be more circumspect in my use of names.

Thanks Cindy and Anon., just thanks.

Well I am going to get Skye counseling. Catholic Skye counseling. I am grateful for another miracle.

I have been watching "Women of Grace" on ETWN the Catholic television network. It is a great show, full of valuable Christian information. The shows over the past week have been about hoarding. One of the guests was a counselor named Allison Somethingorother. She talked about affirmation therapy in relation to hoarding. I am not a hoarder but I NEEDED to hear about this affirmation therapy. This type of therapy was developed by Conrad Barr (name may be wrongish). The minute Allison started talking about it I knew it was for me. So....

Allison has developed a web site called catholictherapists.com. On this web site you can find Catholic therapists in your area. I am not Catholic. In fact my church of origin taught that all Catholics were going to hell because they were not "saved" in the method approved of by our church. I am no longer an indoctrinated twelve year old and know this teaching to be hooey. Still, I remain very Protestant. I say all that to explain the miracle. I went to the web site and typed in Wyoming. Nothing. Big surprise. I typed in "no restrictions" and poof a whole list of people popped up. Guess who was on the list, with a telephone number? I dialed the number and a voice said "This is Allison." I damn near fell off my chair.

Why did I call? Impulse? Mebbee, I am calling it God. Why did Allison answer? God. She never answers the phone. Was a fluke she answered. Anyhoo, I am working on getting our insurance sorted out so I can do Skye counseling. I am looking forward to finding the rest of the puzzle pieces to my story. Ain't God great? I watch someone on the tube and thirty minutes later I am talking to her. By-the by, the program was a rerun. She taped it a year ago.

We got new carpet in the living room and bedroom. Just in time for new dog Jonah and new cat Abigail. Both long rescue stories. Anyone want a cat? You'd be surprised at the aggressive answers I am getting in response to that question.

Thanks for still reading. Love Lynn

Not Funny

2011-11-29T15:33:00.001-07:00

Since no one is still reading this I am going to use it as a diary of sorts.

Sad to have lost my following. My own fault as usual. I should have kept up with people.

It was a heck of a lot of work to keep trying to be Erma Bombeck. My life just ain't that funny. Okay some of it is funny. The whole episode with Trish and Barbara plying me with "Live" water and phyto-greens while sticking magnets all over me was funny. Seven hundred dollars for an air filter was hilarious.

The whole church thing is not funny. Universal salvation is not funny. Steve and his post-modern religious speak is not funny. Children not being taught true Christianity is not funny. A church filled with people who believe spreading the gospel means only handing canned goods is not funny. Me not teaching Sunday School is not funny. Me thinking about becoming a Catholic is hilarious.

Weighing a million pounds is not funny. Feeling bad physically is not funny. Having no clothes that fit is not funny. Identity as fat slob is not funny.

The new dog is not funny. His fear is palpable. When chastised he slinks, falls down and or pees. He is afraid of brooms, shovels, rugs, loud noises, the cat, me, Mollie, Joe, the television, the phone, his bed, being petted and table legs. Poor little dude. I despise his former owner.

Gad am I tired of Mormonland. No fat people for starters. Everyone is striving to be perfect. Sort of funny.

No more.

A New Day

2011-08-19T15:05:00.002-06:00

I have been struggling to blog. This is unusual as normally I can crash a server with my words. I log on and then sit and stare at the screen. What up?

In the past on this blog I was unequally upbeat and downbeat. I wanted to be cheerful and full of fun but when I put fingers to keyboard out poured my insecurities and problems. I know this is the reason many people blog, but it no longer works for me. I am sick of griping about my life. Presto changeo, Pollyanna? No on your tintype. I am way to much of a melancholic for that much of a transformation. I do intend to reflect on my blessings. Even if those blessings are wrapped in pain. I think this is an assignment from God.

Here goes. Husband and I almost came to emotional blows. Through an elaborate series of stupid events he put almost $1000 on a credit card this week. I had just paid the darn thing off. I was angry, really angry and scared. I was loaded for bear and ready to inflict serious damage on our marriage. Before opening my mouth I decided to pray and let God do something with it. (God knows I can't) Well...after praying I opened my mouth and said..., "I have to apologize for spending a small fortune on my weight problem over the past twenty years." You could have knocked me over with a small twinkly type snack cake. I had not planned on saying that at all. Things went from bad to better. Through Divine intervention we began to confront some core issues in our lives and marriage. I am grateful.

That's the blessing for this week. It was a doozy.

Take care, Love Bea

P.S. How do you like my new color scheme. Soothing I thought.

P. S. S. I have industrial strength daises and hollyhocks in my flowerbed. Can they be dug up and divided?

Religion and Laundry

2011-07-27T10:21:00.003-06:00

This post is going to be heavy on Christian beliefs so be warned.

Binding prayer is on old time Evangelical protection prayer. Protection from what? Protection from satan and other evil spirits. I believe avoidance is one of my besetting imps. So I pray, "In Jesus name I bind the spirit of avoidance. I send the spirit of avoidance to the foot of the Cross and pray the blood of Jesus over this spirit. Amen."

Universal salvation or Universalism is the belief that because God loves us we will all go to Heaven without any action on our part. I don't believe it.

This theology is new to me. Apparently is has invaded many Christian denominations while we weren't looking. Some of us in our church are struggling with this issue. This heresy has the potential to be very divisive here and other places where it has taken hold. Makes me tired. If is ain't one thing it is something else. If you want more info let me know.

We are thinking of going traveling in the near future. I have been researching lodges on line and may I just say, phooey. I am sick of wading through search engines to find suitable accommodations. Takes forever. I finally got phone numbers and just called. Wayyyy faster. I have been email absent for five or six months. Good grief. I may have to change my email address. What mess. My in-box is maxed out. I have not missed email at all. I am also trying to figure out what to do with my Face book page. I don't understand it. A friend has promised to help me. Just so you will know, I am not important enough to have all these venues for instant access.

I am going to quit typing now and hang out another load of clothes. I love hanging out laundry. I stand in the yard and look out at the mountains and thank God for the non-technical details of my life. The pigs' days are numbered. Fair is coming up soon. The neighbors are currently outside herding them around with long show sticks. The ducks are following along behind. Very cute.

Off to hunt for clothes pins. Bye Bea

Lost

2011-07-25T14:55:00.002-06:00

I am sitting in my recliner typing this entry. Very cool.

Clothes are drying on the line, ribs are cooking in crock pot and dog is napping. I am at loose ends. I was so excited to finally get back to my blog...and I have nothing to say. My life is ordinary and calm. When I was losing weight I had something to write about. The agony and ecstasy of weight loss. As a "regainer" who has no intention of ever going on another diet, I am at a loss for words.

In my time off from this blog I learned a few things. I don't believe in the addiction model for weight loss. I can know when I am full and choose to stop eating. Exercise is key for maintaining an active metabolism. Breakfast is key for same. No sugar and no flour forever is just silly. Portion control is the most important factor in maintaining a stable weight. Sugary treats as daily fair make me feel drug out and depressed. If I get full I can stop eating and save the rest for later. Satisfaction is attainable. Cooking ahead makes me crazy. Better if I prepare one meal at a time. Focusing on food and fat the whole darn time taps into my control issues. Better to let life just unfold.

See, I told you, I have nothing much to say...about food.

Now if anyone wanted to hear what I think about Universal Salvation THAT I could talk about.

Hosta la veesta Babies, Bea.

Avoidance

2011-07-20T20:18:00.002-06:00

I am outside on the deck. Incredible.

I am fine. Husband is fine. Dog is fine. Cat is self congratulatory. Summer is grand. I am being besieged by humming birds as I am wearing a black and red flannel shirt. I am freezing to death out here but I refuse to go inside. I have waited years to be able to type outdoors and by darn I am going to do it.

I wish I had good news on the fat front. But no. I weigh 200 lbs. I have been avoiding doing anything about it. In fact I have been avoiding many things for many years.

I bought this computer in April. I have put off getting a wifi connection for four months because I knew it would be a hassle, I don't like to ask for help and I was afraid in trying to set it up I would some how permanently damage my new computer. Dumb really. I deprived my self of the pleasure of typing outdoors in the cold and mosquitoes because I didn't like to trouble anyone.

I am praying a new type of prayer. It is called "binding prayer." As a result of some family difficulties I was made aware of my avoidance problem. I prayed the binding prayer about avoidance and was given the courage to get some stuff done. One of the stuffs was getting my computer hooked up. Today I called and got a wifi connection. It was every bit as difficult as imagined it would be. Too involved to get into but believe me when I tell you getting electronic service in this mountain valley is a nightmare. I had to stand up to the phone company rep and demand service. I got service, in person, and a free router to boot. I am so proud of myself I could sing.

Okay I have to stop. I am frozen. Was 38 degrees this morning and I think it will be cold again tonight. I am grateful for the good sleeping weather even if flannel sheets and wool blanket are ridiculous in July. The pigs are grunting next door. I think they are cold too.

Bye. I am taking my computer indoors.

Love Bea

Update

2011-04-11T16:47:00.002-06:00

More cheerful now. Still snowing. The neighbors got pigs yesterday. (Lets the smells begin.) I am going traveling. First time I have gone anywhere alone since I got married. I am looking forward to it. Have new computer but no wifi connection. Have new over the oven microwave. Life is good. Bye Bea

Snowed Under

2011-03-24T15:11:00.002-06:00

It only snowed six inches here on Tuesday. I'm grateful. Ten miles north of us it snowed two feet!

One and a half more weeks and I will be able to type on my own computer in the warmth. I can't find my gloves and my hands are freezing. How Husband survives up here I will never know.

Well...I guess it is no surprise. I am officially obese. I have returned to surviving on carbs, guilt and Gas-X. It is hard to be real fat again. Hard. Husband wants to go on a trip for our twentieth anniversary. In a week and a half. He wants to go to a hot springs resort. God help me. The only way I can get a swimsuit in time is to take the two smaller ones I own and sew them together. I have two pairs of jeans that fit and two sweatshirts and two blouses. These I wear to church and shopping. At home I live in sweatpants and His old shirts. I wear my snow boots over the sweat pants and my too snug old coat over the shirts to shovel snow and get the mail. How on God's (somewhere) green earth am I going to go on vacation for a week???? Mark sprung this on me today at lunch. He was so happy to make me happy. And I have and will ruin his happiness, again. Man is this hard to write.

My food problem has impacted our whole married life. I bawled on our wedding day because I looked like a whale in a cream colored dress. I died of shame inside on our honeymoon when a person had to be left behind on the hot air balloon ride to make room for me. So many places we did not go and things we did not do because I was too fat. Husband was understanding, but disappointed. And now twenty years later my fat continues to limit our lives.

Or not. I am praying for fat person courage. You know the kind, you suck it up, smile and just move forward into life through the wall of judgements. I can do it. I have done it before. I'll beg or borrow a swimsuit and some more clothes. I will go and do and smile.

It is hard to lie down in this bed I made of cheesecake and peanut butter.

Bea

Computer Promise

2011-03-07T15:20:00.004-07:00

If anyone is still out there I am on my way back to blogging.

I am getting a new laptop next month!! Yeah and thank the Lord. It is currently on lay-a-way at Radio Shack. If I had known about lay-a-way I would have purchased a computer years ago. Oh well, live and learn.

I am a mess. Very fat (205) and very snowed in. I'll bet we have four feet on the flat with five foot berms, in the back yard. A couple of weekends ago I rode 66 miles on a snow mobile. It almost killed me. I now have bragging rights as a real Star Valley person.

Husband is fine, dog is sweeter each day and cat continues snotty. My winter isolation is over.

Love Bea

Update Time

2010-12-07T14:13:00.002-07:00

As is my wont during the Holiday season I have been dragging bottom. When I drag bottom I want to isolate. Thank God I have friends who won't allow me to slink off into oblivion. I HATE their "interference" and "nosiness" but boy do I need it.

I hit 201 pounds a week ago. Scary, very scary. I feel like I can't control my eating. I know I can. My answer is the food plan outlined in Kay Sheperd's books. I am again slowly moving toward an abstinent food life. I am soooo grateful for the information I know. I hate hating myself. If I eat abstinently then I feel good. Good physically, mentally and spiritually. I am again at the surrender point. Wanting what I want when I want it only leads to destruction. To be truly full and content I need to limit my eating. And my spending and my tv watching and my other undisciplined behaviours.

Thanksgiving Day was pretty good. We went to friends' and I overate but not too bad. The real killer was last week's church Greening and Christmas party. I knew I shouldn't go. My Christmas clothes were too tight and I felt like a slob. I knew I was too vulnerable. But it was my "duty" to attend. (This condition of being "dutified" is common to Us all. I have had this condition since childhood. Since I have spent a goodly portion of my life in church the condition has played out allot in that venue. I am always at odds with myself over what I "should" do and what I want to do. Since God is involved the weight of the "shoulds" is heavy.) So I went. I had problems from the get go. I won't go into all of it but the evening came to a close with me telling off the pastor. Gad. I am an ass.

God has given me some revelations in the days since the party.

1. God does not see me as I see myself or as the culture sees me. He loves me unconditionally and desires my companionship above my service.
2. I cannot respect/love myself and be out of control.
3. I will not progress in any other area of my life until I completely embrace and address my food addictions.
4. Recovery is not selfish. It is God honoring at my highest.

So...
1. I went back on the hormones. I slapped a patch on my butt two days ago. I hope to be sleeping more in the nights to come. I hope to soon be flashing less. I hope to pick less doctrinal fights with the pastor.

2. I increased my Vit D to 4000 units per day. I got out my sunlight lamp and put it by my chair.

3. I am resigning myself to shoveling snow for an hour per day. I am looking at it as my exercise program instead of resenting it.

4. I am working my way back to the food plan. Each day I get more of the sugar and flour out of my diet and house. I found my food scale and am using it. I am using the measuring cups.

5. I put my bathroom scale in the closet.

6. I bought some new larger size clothing.

7. I am reaching out to friends and being vulnerable.

8. I am refusing to feel guilty about not measuring up to my standards of what a Christian should be.

9. I am reading my Bible daily with an eye for revelation.

10. I am praying so as to be "with" God.

Amen and the end.

Love Lynn

Septic Harvest

2010-10-19T15:51:00.004-06:00

Thank you all for continuing to check in with me. I appreciate it.

Well...I have been busy. The weather continues fine. We built a portico over the back door. We are building a tunnel thing over the garage door. The tunnel will divert the snow sliding off the roof and I will not need a pick ax to enter the garage from the back yard. We moved a pile of dirt to the back-yard. First we sifted out the rocks with small gauge wire fencing. This whole process was not as much fun as you might imagine. I planted about a hundred million tulips and daffodils in my gigantic flower bed. We put more pavers down in front of the back step. Ditto on fun. Today I weed and fed the lawn. We have four more storm windows to put in and then we are done. Yeah. I still have to wash half of the outside windows. Most of the inside ones are clean. I washed my comforter today and hung it outside to dry. Tomorrow is the living room drapes and all our winter gear I didn't get washed in the spring. It is supposed to snow by the week end so I am making hay while the sun shines.

My dryer blew up last week and I have spent much money getting the old thing functional again. Why do repair men never arrive on time? I wasted two days waiting for the guy. Very frustrating. I have been wined and dined by all the snow birds who went home in the past two weeks. I am very fat but had a GREAT time. Jackson Hole is beautiful right now, very few tourists. I am sad about yoga Fran leaving for the winter. I will miss her like the dickens. I taped her class and am going to do the routine at home with the dog. She will be my dogini.

I have been cooking like mad. Must be the Fall air. I made some pumpkin apple soup to die for. I "put up" fifteen quart containers of apples from our tree. I also made twelve pints of apple butter. I have been making apple desserts on the weekends. Mark thinks he has died and gone to heaven. On the weekends I also have been making big meat, i.e. pork roast, beef roast, ham, chicken or turkey. I cook the meat and veg on Friday and we eat on it all weekend. I have been putting the apple sauce over the pork roast before I bake it. Scrumptious. I have a friend with a huge garden. She had landed me with green beans, turnips, carrots, parsnips and beets. I froze most of the green beans and made borscht a couple of times with the turnips and beets. The carrots and parsnips are going in with the roasts. Speaking of tomatoes. I am still getting big fat red tomatoes. You have no idea how rare that is for this part of the world. I dutifully cover the tomato plant every night and so far it has not frozen. Has been getting down to 20-30 degrees at night. And now about the septic tank.

After our septic tank adventure we were left with a big area of bare dirt in the lawn. I was not bothered by this but Mark wanted me to replant grass. Okay, I found a baggy of grass seed in the garage and threw it down. A week later Mark came to me and said "you have got to see this." I dutifully followed him to the side yard. Low and behold, over our septic tank is an area of the most chartreuse green you can imagine. "What did you plant he asked?" " I think it's lettuce." Yep. We now are enjoying a regal harvest of fresh lettuce. It must be the heat coming from the septic tank that's keeping it from freezing. We are the talk of the neighborhood. My friend with the huge garden just put her septic tank area into spinach. Who knew.

And now I'm done. I hope to be reading and posting on a more frequent basis soon. Santa has said we might get a laptop for Christmas. I am not holding my breath. I hope you all are having a wonderful fall. I am.

Take care, Love Lynn

P.S. We had a wonderful time in Yellowstone and Teton Parks. We saw every kind of wild life but bears. We were the exception. Everyone we talked to had seen bears. Herds of them. Walking down the road and halting traffic just like the buffalo. Phooey. We had a fun time with our friends. There is nothing like vacationing with people of the same age and interests. Are you interested in a repeat next year Kim???

On The Road Again

2010-09-15T08:56:00.002-06:00

Friend Kim and new cute husband arrive soon. We will visit for a bit and them we are all going to go to Yellowstone. Yeah. I am ready for some R & R. I am tired of cooking and cleaning. I want to be waited on.

I am watching the dog. She ate a bunch of grass on which I had just sprayed weed killer. First time she has ever done that. I gave her dog treats. These make her thirsty and she drank a lot of water. I hope I diluted the stuff. Gad.

Okay off to make soup and inflate a bed. Hosta la veesta Babies.

Bea

"Life's Been Good To Me So Far"

2010-09-03T08:59:00.004-06:00

In our little community church I am a rock star. I was the second keynote speaker at our women's retreat. In the morning I talked about the Western Christian tradition of meditation. In the afternoon I led two guided meditations. I was a hit. Only it wasn't me. Yes I studied for two weeks. Yes this is a subject about which I am very knowledgeable. Yes I have some little ability as a public speaker. But...when I got up to speak nothing came out like I had planned it. I don't even remember half of what I said. I opened my mouth and out it flowed. I think I gave a sermon. People laughed and then they cried. It was amazing, for all of us.

I have been asking God to use me. I never expected He would latch onto my gift of gab. Yes, I am a talker. Always have been. I have thought of it as a curse. Like my fat. The plump woman who could not keep her mouth shut. Believe me when I tell you I say some of the dumbest things known to woman kind. And people listen to and believe me. They always have. I have frequently felt like a big ole fakey manipulator. I know I can be persuasive. I thought using this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. I can't just leave the obvious alone. I have to jazz it up a bit. I love adjectives and adverbs. They contain the color of life. I long to present life with more pathos, gravity, excitement and humor than it actually contains. I have been told this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. When I talk or write I always try to have a governor on my mind/mouth. It is frustrating.

When I got up to talk something happened to me. The governor came off. I was free. Soaringly, leapingly free. All the superlatives in my mind and mouth were/are not enough to describe God. Telling people about God's love and having them listen to and believe me felt TRUE. Suddenly I was completely what God created me to be. In that moment I came to myself. In God. I was not self conscious. I was God conscious. What gracious liberty I was given. I am grateful. So grateful.

If you have been reading for a while you know what a burden my self is to me. It is too fat. It is too timid. It is too arrogant. It is too undisciplined. It is too judgemental. It is too self depreciating (tee-hee). I have longed to be shed of it. Food for me offered/s the release. I know this is not what God has in mind when the Bible talks about "dying unto self." We are meant to love ourselves as we love others so dying unto self cannot mean abandoning my self with addictions. I think I had a taste of what it means to die unto self. My willingness to be used by God lit up my God conscious enough to fade out my self conscious. I realize I have just described what happens during meditation. Amazing.

Okay back down to earth. I am having trouble with the praise I am receiving. Five women surrounded me in a restaurant yesterday with praises. I didn't know how to respond. I know it wasn't me. God came through me. So I said that. It is all I can say.

Take care, Love Lynn

The Great Septic Tank Hunt

2010-08-11T14:00:00.003-06:00

Life here is just dandy. We found the septic tank and had it pumped out this morning. I now know way more about cesspools, leech fields, septic tanks and vaults than any nice woman should be forced to learn.

I have never lived in a house with a septic tank. I just figured plumbing was plumbing. You pushed the handle and woosh, everything worked. I have been living in a fool's paradise, with a flush toilet. Spring/summer cleaning needed done. I did it. I washed everything in the house not nailed down. A couple of weeks passed. We had guests. They took showers and needed laundry done. No problemo, right? Wrong. Problems, big problems. Apparently the extra water and soap I used doing massive amounts of laundry, and then cleaning house like a mad woman for company, killed off the few bacteria still left alive in our system. And our system was full. Over full it turns out. The guests put stress on the failing system, and it failed. Hello hotel. Gad, how embarrassing.

Okay so we needed the system pumped out, no problem right? Problemo. No one knew where the septic tank was. The information we were given when we bought the house was incorrect. In fact we were outright lied to. We were told the system was on the southeast corner of the house and had been pumped out three years ago. We plunged rebar in the lawn (per advise of the septic company) looking for the tank until we were about dead. We found enough big rocks to build a nice size fireplace, but no tank. I called the county planning office. Mistake. According to their records our old house did not have a septic tank it had a cesspool and, "Cesspools were outlawed in this county in 1981 and you will have to put in a septic tank. We're not sure where you'll put the tank as the only place for it on your small lot is too close to your water line." What is a cesspool you ask? According to the county planner, "A cesspool is a privy without a top. It is a big hole lined with railroad ties and filled with rocks. Railroad ties are placed over the cavern and covered with dirt. The main drain from the house runs into it. The old timers always planted two lilac bushes over the top of it. These were good little systems and can work for years. But when they fail you have to back fill them and put in a septic tank. Do you have any big old thriving lilacs side by side?" Yes, we do. Probably at least fifteen feet high. Shit. No pun intended.

Mark and I went outside and stared at our bushes. They are a wonder. No wonder. We wondered what to do. Mark had a brainstorm, we would call the former owner. We would ask him what exactly he had had pumped out just before we bought the house, and where this pumping had taken place. Mistake. The former owner was jovial and glad to hear from us. "I see you are fixing up that little rental I sold you" he said "it looks great." Where is the septic tank you had pumped out just before we bought the property we asked. "I never pumped out anything" he said "I think it has a cesspool." We told him his real estate agent had put in writing that the house had a septic tank on the southeast corner. He laughed. "That guy" he said "he could sell wool to sheep." Mark hung up on him. We stared at each other some more. How much money do we have in the savings account he asked. Not enough.

I am not sure how this would have turned out if the neighbor had not come over a couple of days ago while we were outside. He volunteered to lend us his lawn aerator. Said it was much more effective than doing it by hand. (The rebar you know.) We told him our problem. "The septic tank is right next to the garage" he said "Howard put it in in 1996." Who is Howard we asked? Turns out he owned the house before the former owner. "I can show you where the tank is and where the pump out lid is." And he did. We called Howard. The system had NEVER been pumped out. Fourteen years is some sort of record.

This is the end of the great septic tank hunt. We have an empty vault, we met some nice people and we know why our lilac bushes are the best in the neighborhood. All's well that ends well.

Love Bea

Making the Best of a Bad Situation

2010-07-19T13:47:00.003-06:00

It is hotter than hell up here. We are having company this weekend and I am supposed to be cleaning the upstairs. Mark's office is about a foot deep in junk and this is where the guests will sleep. I am stalled. Phooey.

We got back from our latest adventure a week ago. I am finally recovered. Another thousand miles on the car in a few days just about killed me, but we had a great time. We met Mark's family in Sheridan and then all went up to his sister's wedding in Livingston MT. The wedding was at a rented church camp way up in the mountains. We were not prepared for how "way up" it was going to be and ran out of gas. Mark's sister (not the one getting married) thought it a great adventure. His wife thought it was a pain in the ass. Thank God the cell phone worked in between the two huge mountains and we were rescued.

The sister getting married was having her own adventure while we were stranded on the mountainside in the blazing sun. Her wedding dress didn't fit. And when I say "didn't fit" think vital parts of her anatomy hanging out. A casual wedding was planned and the bride purchased her turquoise and tan gauzy sundress in Florida four months ago. Four months and about thirty-five or forty pounds ago. The top of the long flowing dress did not begin to cover her breasts and the strap ties would not hook in the back. A crisis ensued. How to cover the bride's boobs? The bride began crying and did not stop for an hour. Eventually (we gas less ones missed most of this) the new sister-in-law saved the day. First she told the bride to shut up. Told her she was not "a fat slob" and that ALL brides looked beautiful. Told her she had a choice, she could ruin her wedding day over a "non-essential" or she could "suck it up and smile." Then the sister-in-law sent an SOS around the camp to all the other cabins looking for some sort of decorative pin and a half slip. Miracle of miracles, one woman had a big turquoise pin and another had a cream colored half slip. Why she had a half slip for a camping expedition was never fully explained. Anyway the sister-in-law took the outer skirt and gathered it up in the front. She pulled this extra material up and fanned it out over the brides chest and pinned the whole frothy swath in front at the empire waist. Voila, a ruffle over the offending boobs. She then tied the ties around the bride's neck making a halter top. The bride put on the half slip and the see through gauze underskirt became wedding approved. The bride looked in the mirror and said, "I look like I'm pregnant" and began to cry again. Sister-in-law stepped in. "Stop that. This is what you look like. My brother knows what you look like. He likes it. Who else matters?" Who indeed? The bride cheered up, giggled in fact, and we had a wedding.

Running out of gas, an ill fitting wedding dress, and the varying responses set me to thinking. It is all about how you respond to things. It's a choice. It is a chance to respond negatively or positively. I can change my feelings with my response. Or if not, at least I don't have to make everyone around me miserable.

I learned something valuable.

Take care, Bea

P.S. Chico Hot Springs was a treat. We stayed in the old lodge. Next time we will stay in the cabins overlooking the valley. We had one of the best dinners I have ever had. The flaming frozen chocolate orange was worth the price of the meal. Bye

Rushing

2010-06-29T13:07:00.002-06:00

We were gone half of last week and we are leaving again on Friday. I am stressed out about trying to get up and running for summer and all this travel is driving me nuts.

I finally got the gigantic flower bed planted (60 plants) and also window boxes and barrels at front step. My five roses in barrels died. Wayyyyy to much rain. In their places I have planted rhubarb, strawberries, a tomato plant, lavender and day lilies. Over the weekend we got out the patio furniture and grill and furnished the deck. Mark has killed the weeds in the lawn twice. They are thriving. I will drag out the hoses tonight to start watering. I have half the storm windows out. I have half the windows washed on the inside. I have half the curtains washed, ironed and rehung. I also still have to wash throw rugs, our bed comforter and the living room slip covers. It is so good to hang stuff on the line. (My small old beloved dryer will not accommodate much more than clothing.) Then I will start cleaning the house. First project is to shampoo the rug. Then I will wash walls in the kitchen. Phooey.

Mark said the other day that we live in winter country. He is so right. Being holed up in a house for eight months makes us all crazy come summer. We go like gangbusters for July, August and September and then it is time for winter again. If you don't hit the ground running at the end of June, poof, summer is gone. I have to say, it is bea-uuu-tiful here right now. Spring flowers and blinding green grass. This won't last long. It was 90 degrees earlier today. In a few days the grass will start turning brown. Oh and the mosquitoes. They flew the dog around the yard last eve. She was not amused.

I quit drastic for diet. Turns out the equivalent of Medifast does not mesh with my constitution. I need MUCH, MUCH more fiber and protein. Gad. That protein powder went in like paste and came out like cement. Holy moly. My digestive system may never return to normal. I was thrilled to eat oatmeal and blueberries Sunday morning. I am fairly okay with my weight at present. We will see how I am after this weekend. I have to go to a wedding. I hope to not focus on my fat and to enjoy the people around me. Some of the folks are real judgemental. Say a prayer for me to just let all the comments roll off, or to be brave enough to respond in kind. I am getting my toenails touched up tomorrow. Maybe I will just flash those at the "skinny" police.

Okay have to run. I need to make reservations at Chico Hot Springs and at the dog resort (jail).

Take care. Love Bea

Maintenance

2010-06-10T10:01:00.003-06:00

I am alive again. Thank You God.

Looks like Mark is going to get to keep his job and current salary. Our health insurance may be cut in half. The county budget is tight but NO ONE was laid off. The county attorney budget short falls were finally found to have been due to Mark's former boss's mismanagement and not Mark's. His good name is clear again. We are all grateful.

Okay, in the past week I have joined Curves, gone to yoga, had a chiropractic adjustment, had my teeth cleaned, gone to coffee with the girls, had my hair cut and dyed, had my legs waxed and started Drastic with diet.

I have not been spending any money for a couple of months. Fear you know. Well, getting all of the above done was not cheap and sort of sent me into sticker shock and guilt. No job you know. I always feel bad about spending money on my body when I am not the one earning the salary. I told Mark I felt guilty about spending money on myself and did he want to do something nice for himself. He promptly said he wanted to buy a $70 computer game. I said, "No I mean something nice for your body. Like I have been doing. Pampering yourself." He looked at me like I had lost my mind. "What do you mean pampering? All that stuff is just routine maintenance." Hold the phone Nellie. "Routine maintenance?" Getting your legs waxed? We had a real enlightening conversation after that. Turns out my husband wants me to do girly stuff and look girly. He asked my why I had quit painting my toenails! I was poleaxed.

My female relatives and church taught me to believe anything more than clean and neat for a woman was the apex of vanity and selfishness. The feminists taught me to devalue anything smacking of "feminine wiles." Sexual abuse taught me to hate my body, so why be nice to it or decorate it. I guess I just assumed Mark shared my views. Gad. I feel liberated. Is that not hilarious? After all that feminist crap I feel liberated when "given permission" to treasure my body and become a "high maintenance" chick. This could get damn interesting.

Take care. I love you all. Lynn

Rain

2010-06-03T13:28:00.002-06:00

I think I am growing moss on my north side. The dog is so bored she just stares at me and whines. My roses are a sickly yellowish color. I am doubling up on my Vitamin D to counteract the gloom. The pigs next door are traveling around on water wings. The ducks laugh all day. And still it rains.

On the brighter side, a robin has moved into our car port rafters. She built a nice cozy nest directly over the driver side of our car. She refuses to vacate the nest so we are doing this sort of hula maneuver to enter and exit the car. Very tricky that. I will be glad when the babies are born and reared. It is fun to greet her each time I open the back door. On a less happy note, voles have moved into our basement. They tunneled around a basement window and took up residence in our old tax returns. Yuck. Mouse poops and urine all over everything. The cat ignores them. We plugged up the holes during a hiatus in the downpour and now just have to clean everything up. I refuse to do it alone so it will have to wait until the weekend. We put out traps. Nothing so far. I hope they moved out before we walled them in with Quick-Crete.

Still no job news. Turns out everyone in county government is nervous. I am only worrying about it from seven to eight p.m. every other day. Seems to be working.

On the fat front...who gives a rip? I am not gaining so I am not worrying. I started yoga again.
Yoga Fran came back from Florida. Gad am I stiff. It is great to start stretching again. I also bought some of those new "Sk*tchers" shoes. Thought they would be good for my posture and would give me a better workout while I walked. Not so much. I have plantar fascitis so bad I can hardly walk. I am not sure my feet will ever get back to normal. Those darn shoes were very expensive to be so lethal. I have a friend who is going to try to sell them for me on e-bay. I have worn them four times. I am going broke buying lineament for my feet. I also bought some heel pads for my shoes. Yoga Fran has me doing some stretches for my feet and ankles. I hope something works. I walk like and old lady.

I have been entertaining. Let me rephrase that. We have had two groups of people over for dinner. Was fun. I have figured out that four guests plus us is the ideal number. The house will seat them comfortably and food and dishes are not a chore. If it ever stops raining we will stain the deck, get the furniture out and entertain out there. I wish summer would arrive. Okay that's all. See you next month.

Love Bea

Lusts of the Flesh

2010-05-11T13:34:00.002-06:00

Has been a long time since my last post. Mostly I have been inert, with flurries of...self care. Surprised you didn't I.

I am not good at living in limbo land. The latest date for info about county budget cuts is June first. I hope we know by then if Mark has a full time job.

I am still s-l-0-w-l-y getting rid of stuff. I am now going through boxes of stuff I stored because I didn't know what else to do with it. You know about those. You forget about the contents until you open the box and think, "Oh crap it's this junk again." Very therapeutic on all levels.

My eating is good or bad depending on the day.

I just read a book by Susie Orbach called "Bodies." Very enlightening. You remember Susie, "Fat is a Feminist Issue" Susie. Has been years since I read anything by her. I'm not sure why I bought it. It was darn expensive for a paperback and I am paranoid about money right now. The book made me feel good. Like taking off a tight girdle, pardon me, shape wear pantie. I read the book, looked in the mirror and said, "Yep, that looks like me." Not "fat belly, bad Lynn", "droopy upper arms, disgusting", "wobbly double chin, all your fault," just..."yep that looks like me. I look amazingly like my mother." What a relief.

I am now reading "Having a Mary Spirit" by Joanna Weaver. Very enlightening. Joanna also wrote "Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World." Bought "Mary Spirit" after I bought "Bodies." To paraphrase Monty Python, I wanted something completely different. Turns out, not so much difference between the two. Joanna talks about the nature of "Flesh Woman." This would be the woman who sins by giving in to "fleshly" desires. This would be apple eating Eve and her ravenous daughters. Joanna forced me to confront my opposing thoughts about sins of the "flesh." I am not the only conflicted Christian out there. The Christian church has been divided about "fleshly" sin since Paul and Peter, and the Arian heresy. For 2000 years we have been taught sin resides not just in our sinful natures but also in our physical bodies. Those of us who suffer with cravings of various sorts have had no trouble believing the teaching. But just because we were taught heresy as truth does not make any the less heretical. The space between the joints in my elbow is not full of sin, it is full of synovial fluid. My red blood cells are not carrying sin, they are carrying oxygen. My body does not contain sin or cause me to sin. My sinful "appetites" do not arise in my digestive system. My ingrowing toenails are innocent of sin. Yes my poor body has had to endure the consequences of my sins but is sure isn't the cause.

So, what do Susie Orbach's Bodies and Joanna Weaver's Flesh Woman have in common? Both books say the obvious. Our physical bodies are just our bodies. They are not "good" if they are thin/beautiful and unsullied and "bad" if they are fat/ugly and commit sin. They are morally neutral. This is good news for a fatish sinnerish woman who has has a hell of a time caring for and about her "temple."

Take care. Love Bea

Guilt

2010-04-14T15:35:00.003-06:00

I don't usually post two days in a row but I have to get this down on paper, or pixels, lest I forget. See yesterday's post for saga of Mark's job.

I was sitting on the couch today at 10:30 feeling guilty and eating bread and butter sandwiches. I felt guilty because it was 10:30 and I hadn't yet done anything.

Digression---I got up today at 5:30. I let dog out. I dressed, washed face, brushed teeth. I started coffee. I set up ironing board. I fed dog and cat. Mark got up. I ironed shirt and slacks for Mark. I turned on radio and listened to weather. I made cup of tea. Mark read his Bible and then showered. I cooked breakfast (oatmeal, eggs, grapefruit) while drinking tea and listening to local sports and birthday requests. Stripped sheets off bed and put them in the washer. Mark dressed and we sat down to eat. Finished eating and did Bible reading together. Mark put on coat and tie and left for work. I put on boots and went outside to drag huge black trash trolley to side of road. Went indoors and gathered up trash and ran it outside. Too late. Trash truck drove by and did not pick up trash. Again. Called trash people and argued with them about trash guy missing us every week. Trash girl was rude and said someone would be by to pick it up in the afternoon. Went inside and put on coat. Dog and I went outside to pooper scooper and feed birds. Came indoors fixed second cup of tea and sat down to do my devotions. Did devotions and then watched my preacher lady on television for 45 minutes. Got up from chair and transferred laundry to dryer. Noticed time. Felt horrible lazy and sat down on couch and gave in to tears and despair and bread. Felt guilty for not getting anything done.

As I was sitting there in my guilt, sniffing and eating my bread and butter, I chanced to tune into my thinking as my vision circled the room. My glance first fell on the television. I felt guilty for watching Joyce in the mornings. I felt guilty because there was a light layer of dust on the t.v.. I looked at the clock above the t.v., it was late and I wasn't doing anything. I looked at the walls. I hadn't washed them since we painted them three years ago. My eyes traveled to my desk. More dust. Inside a welter of unfiled stuff and indecision about what to discard. Also guilt about not sticking to budget better. Calendar came into view next. Gad, the days I have wasted doing nothing useful. Door next. The door has some scuff marks on it. Mirror next. Permanent streaks on mirror from years of spaying Windex on it instead of on rag first when cleaning. Mark's chair next, chair cover needs washed and side table needs dusted. Coat closet. Full of way to much stuff. Needs cleaned out. Front door. Needs screw tightened in doorknob. Green chair. Towel in chair seat is covered in cat hair. Window. Drapes need washed. Window is filthy after winter. My chair. Way to many books on side table. More dust. Magazine on the floor. Floor needs vacuumed. Sofa in front of picture window. Drapes need attention. Window is dirty. Cushions need cleaned. Cat hair on back of sofa where cat is sleeping in sun. Fat woman eating bread sitting on sofa feeling guilty about every damn thing in the room. I forgot the sleeping dog. Felt guilty I had not taken Mollie out for a run yet. (I did not feel guilty about the cat. She is living like a queen.)

My whole life has been based on feeling guilty for not measuring up. As the guilt piles up I feel overwhelmed and out of control. I hate feeling overwhelmed and out of control so I eat to ease the feeling. I then spiral deeper into guilt/despair for the eating and eventually become inert. Then I sleep.

Woke up at 2:00 pm. Prayed for deliverance from guilt. Prayed hard. I am not going to live like this. I am just not having it. I am not going to feel guilty for every f**king thing I do or do not do. Conviction comes from God. Guilt and condemnation do not. If I sin, I feel convicted, I say sorry, I make amends if possible, and I move on. If I feel guilty it is just tricks of the puny one and I stay stuck. NO MORE STUCK.

Take care. Love Bea

Faith Less

2010-04-13T14:36:00.005-06:00

Okay I can take a joke as well as the next guy, but eight inches is just silly. It was five below last Tuesday and today it's snowing. I'm so over winter.

Life goes along apace. One job interview down, a couple more to go.

If we have to move again it will really tell what I am made of faith wise. I demonstrated minimal faith during the last two moves. The move up here to our mountain paradise rental house happened so fast I didn't have time to panic and over control. Plus we sold our house at home and made money so I wasn't worried sick about finances. When we bought this house and moved I was exhausted and pissed off but not too fearful. This time will different.

Our house is worth $50,000 less than when we bought it three years ago. Fifty thousand dollars. I am having trouble even getting my mind around this fact. The market is flooded with for sale homes much nicer than ours. We have done a lot to this house but it is still ninety years old and small. I fear ain't no one out there a gonna want a vacation home with oodles of charm but no dishwasher. We are trying to figure out what to do about the house if Mark gets one of the jobs. None of the options are appealing. This is where the faith comes in.

If we move we will have to do a U-Haul move as we can't afford a mover. We used up all our savings fixing up the house. Traveling to and from interviews and house hunting is expensive. If we found a place then there are all the down payments and first and last months rent. I have been figuring out how to cash in our IRA and life insurance. I don't know where we will get the money to move otherwise. This is where the faith come in.

Mark has much experience at his job and in the past this has been a huge asset. Not any more. Experienced attorneys are first in line for all the jobs going. The weirdness at his current job seems to be resolving, but now the county is slashing the budget. His position may well go half time in June. If he doesn't find a job by then we will be in a world of hurt. This is where the faith come in.

I have been reading the want adds. I could apply to be a car hop, or work at Sub-way. Part time of course. I was gong to call about the car hop job and was told the summer fast food jobs are reserved for local teenagers and kids home from college for the summer. This is where the faith comes in.

I hate not being in control of my life. Scares the crap out of me. But there is not one darn thing I can do to change my circumstances. I can't fix the housing market. I can't fix the unpleasantness at Mark's job. I can't fix the county finances. I can't make someone hire Mark. I can't make someone hire me full time at more than minimum wage (which isn't enough to pay the bills). I can't get our savings back out of this house. I can't make it quit flipping snowing. I HAVE to rely on God.

So I am. Love Bea

Poleaxed

2010-04-02T13:18:00.002-06:00

This post is of no great consequence but I just had to say something to somebody.

I have a friend who had gastric bypass surgery almost two years ago. I have talked to her off and on during that time. Of course I always ask how much weight she is losing. She will not tell me. Says it is none of my business. True enough. Well yesterday she told me.

She has lost 207 pounds. She weighs 122 pounds. She is 53 years old.

Just think about that for a minute. Two hundred and seven pounds. She has lost more than I weigh and I am fat. In less than two years she has done this. How is this possible? I was and still am stunned. How can you be 53 and weigh 122 pounds? She weighs less than her daughter.

I asked how she felt about losing all of that weight. "Fine" she said. I said she must feel like a new woman, and younger. "No" she said. What is it like to go through the world in such a radically smaller body I asked? "My knees don't hurt." Surely you must be having some sort of emotional reaction to it all I said. "Not really" she said. Well I ask you, is this possible?

Yes I am jealous. We might as well get that said right up front. I am also so happy for her I can hardly convey it. I love her and she was trapped by her weight and it was killing her. She has now been given and accepted a new lease on life. So why isn't she acting like a condemned woman who has been pardoned? I sure would be. I would be shaking my skinny booty all over town. I have some theories about this.

Remember Star Jones and how weird she acted after she lost all her weight? Like she was standing naked and vulnerable before the world and the only way she could protect herself was by downplaying the weight loss. Maybe this is what is happening to my friend. Maybe it is all still too new and she hasn't yet figured out how to be thin. Or maybe she is still the same person who has never dealt with her emotions. Or maybe (and this is painful to admit) she knows how jealous I am and fears I can't be supportive. What ever it is, it was like running into a brick wall, and it hurt.

I guess the post had more consequence that I first thought.

Happy Easter to all of you. Up from the grave He arose!

Love Bea

Still Here

2010-03-23T14:05:00.003-06:00

Thank you all for your posts. I didn't realize how much my inexpert handling of my crap resonated with people. Is a comfort to know my feet of clay extending clear up to my a** is helpful to someone.

Mark's job is on hold for two months. His position will be reevaluated again at that time. If all goes well we will stay here, if not we move.

I have learned much about politics in the past month. I am not a politician's wife. I am much too soft hearted. Criticism of Mark just about kills me. Especially when it is unjust. Insight: If you go around picking up your bosses crap...you end up with crap on your hands in spite of a sterling character. Insight: If your wife gets mad and makes a big scene at the Republican convention and comes close to knocking down a county official it does not help your public career. Even if a number of men come up to you afterward in private and tell you how lucky you are to have a wife that loves you that much. Go figure.

The spectre of job loss and a move shocked and galvanized me. I spend way to much money on stuff to alleviate loneliness and boredom. Food would be at the top of the list. Books would be second and movies/t.v. come in third. The prospect of possibly having no paycheck in two months has forced me to stop my self indulgent spending. And...we got wayyyyyyy to much stuff. I am going through our stuff with a stern eye. If I don't want to pay to have it moved, out it goes. This is as far as I have come, but we only found out the bad news about the job a week ago.

I have done more praying in the past three weeks than in the past three years. I am learning to put the future and the past in God's hands. I can only work with today. I have a couple of scripture verses I go around muttering all day. They help. Oh I had better confess I am still angry and bitter at specific people about the way Mark was treated. Mentor Mary says the best way to deal with your enemies is to pray for them. It is like "heaping coals of fire on their heads." I now remember these people in my prayers...oh, about a thousand times a day. I am sure this is not how she meant it.

I am fine. I can handle major crisis and pain. It is the day to day little stings that trip me up. Mollie is fine. We had a flat tire fixed the other day. People are always telling me how beautiful she is. The tire store was no exception. She was the belle of the ball. Not bad for a dog who spent the first year of her life chained to a tree eating her own poop. She is snoring at my feet.

I have a fine husband, a good dog, a character filled cat and a God who loves me. I am blessed.

AND I HAVE LOST SIX MORE DAMN POUNDS!!!!!!!!

Love Bea

Long Time No Write

2010-02-24T14:37:00.002-07:00

Almost a month has passed since my last post. Much has happened.

Mark's job is in jeopardy. This came as a bolt out of the blue. We will know by March 16 if we will be job hunting. If the job goes we will have to move. I have been reading a resume book and trying to piece together some kind of marketable skill. Turns out being a housewife for the past ten years was not a career boost. I am not hopeful about selling our house. Nothing is moving here house wise. Maybe we can rent it.

Our church seems to be imploding. This is not as much of a surprise as the job thing but it is just as painful.

On the fat front things are stable. I stopped attending the group. Turned out to be way too winter for a weekly eighty mile drive in the dark. I talked to the leader about the distance. She says there may be another group starting thirty miles closer to us in the near future. I have my fingers crossed. I have lost five pounds and my craving/bingeing is quiet at present. This is a blessing.

I think my life as a blogger is drawing to a close. I hate what I write on here. I started this blog with the hope of becoming a great writer. What I whinge on about now is not worth reading. I also started writing to chronicle my weight loss journey. Well...my journey has stopped and I have settled down on Fat Lane. I may well weigh 198 lbs until I die.

I had hoped to be a funny uplifting example of weight loss stick-to-it-iveness and Christian charity. Ha. I am fifty pounds lighter and I have (almost) quit swearing. Hardly Mother Theresa. I have gained twenty pounds back and this constant griping does not reflect Faith in God. Phooey. Reading my blog requires antidepressants. This is not what I want.

For the few of you still reading and commenting. Thank You. I will be posting until March 16th.

Love Bea

A Bright New Shiny Day

2010-01-29T08:46:00.003-07:00

I went to my first Support group last eve. It is where I need to be. I am them and they are me. I am not alone.

This will be short as we are going traveling this weekend. I plan to turn 53 sitting in a hot springs stewing my aching bones. Back to the Group. Thanks be to God I was ready to handle all I learned there. If I had not had the revelation of being "right in Christ" I could not have stood it. "In Christ" I am becoming a new creation and old things are passing away. But, I have hit and drug bottom several times during my life. I have been ashamed of my willingness to drop down into the mire, and then my seeming inability to lift myself out of said muck. I have felt contaminated at my core. "In Christ" I no longer feel contaminated, but, last night I found out I am set apart because of my familiarity with degradation and despair. I need the company and support of other people who have come to the end of themselves and found God to be their only strength. I have been toting a burden I didn't even know I was carrying for a long, long time. With God's help and the care of others' I see a way clear to putting it down.

Amen Love Bea

More New Directions

2010-01-21T13:17:00.003-07:00

Why does the cat throw up every time I start to do yoga? I am listening to the music and breathing and breathing and getting calm and, blammo... yowling, retching and whoops-daisy-up comes breakfast. Then I have to stop, go and get the carpet cleaner, and the paper towels, and spend ten minutes cleaning up everything. Ruins the moment. Oh, and when I am doing the camel thing the dog gets underneath me and licks my face. Makes me almost want to take up jogging.

A rough bunch of days since my last post. Bad dreams, lethargy, food cravings from hell, self pity and massive amounts of anger. I have been in a bad way.

But something happened to me this morning. I will attempt to explain but may not succeed. My spiritual vocabulary is not large. When I awaken in the mornings I feel fine for about two seconds. Then the assault starts. Every fault I possess and their consequences cycle through my mind. At the top of the list is the fat thing. I feel like a thousand pound weight (no pun) has been dropped on me and I think "what is the use of fighting." But fight I do. I say "This is the day the Lord hath made I will rejoice and be glad in it" and I launch myself into my day. If not with gladness, then at least with massive movement. Since owning my sugar addiction the assault has been multiplied ten fold and I have been unable to launch myself into anything. I have grudgingly drug myself from spot to spot. My desire has been to fade into weary nothingness. Last week I earnestly sought help, received it and then did not have enough oomph to avail myself of it. But...The Help came and found me.

I decided last week to walk on the treadmill every morning. Of course I did not get it done every morning so I gave up. Only this morning I didn't. I got up and got on the darn thing. It was so boring I went and got my CD player and headphones. I didn't want to take the time to find new music so I decided to listen to what was in there. Of course it was Joyce Meyer. I was disgusted. I did not feel like listening to her preach at me and make me feel guilty. But I was too lazy to change the CD so I listened. She was preaching about being "the righteousness of God in Christ." I have heard this sermon theme enough times to quote it chapter and verse. I never understood what she or the Bible meant. This morning I finally got it.

Some of the folks in my childhood taught me I was a befouled being who would cause a lot less bother if she were just dead. Then the church got a'holt of me and told me I was a worthless sinner who deserved hell. I imprinted the idea I was a befouled sinner who should keep out of every one's way until she most likely went to hell. OK so now I buy a book that offers me the joyous opportunity to re-acknowledge "I am a sugar addict and my life spirals out of control because of it." Right. I am a befouled sinner who needs to stop bothering people to get her needs met, prepare for hell and accept the fact that she is an incurable addict to top it off. Gad, who wouldn't feel a tad down at the mouth in the mornings?

My intellect did/does not think I am contaminated or going to hell. It was my soul that believed the lie. Until this morning. Grace allowed me to see my true condition. In Christ I have been made "right." Fixed, cured, cleaned. The I of me is fresh as the morning. I am truly becoming a new creature. This revelation makes all the difference. I am right. I have an addiction. I am not my sins or my faults or my addictions. I, I, I, am right.

How will all of this play out? Beats me. I am way less freaked out and downtrodden about it all. I will ask the God of my understanding to "please help me to do your will" and then do the best I can to listen carefully. I have an addiction to sugar. I will need always to be abstinent. I need the support of others like me. I still need to finish withdrawal and get abstinent. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention withdrawal? Seems I keep forgetting about it entirely. Surprise, surprise. Most of the awful stuff I have gone through this past week could be attributed to what??? Withdrawal. I think I will ask the God of my new understanding for some help with that.

Take care. Love, love, love Bea

Addiction, My Shield and Buckler

2010-01-14T09:10:00.003-07:00

I don't usually post two days in a row but I learned something yesterday and I want to make sure I understand it and don't forget it.

See yesterday's blog as to the efforts I am making toward recovery. One of the efforts was to go and get my darn hair cut and colored. This I did. My beautician is also my massage therapist. She is multifaceted. As we were sitting and visiting while my hair processed we talked about living life. Sheri does a lot of stuff. She is way involved with her family, her spiritual journey, and physical journeys. She is a great traveler and has been all over the world. Our conversation wandered far and wide as usual because I am intensely interested in her experiences in foreign climes, both physical and spiritual. I told her how brave I thought she was. This label seemed to stump her. "Brave? What does being brave have to do with it?" Now I was stumped. "Well, being willing to take all the risks involved with doing something totally new."
"What risk" she said "I want to live my life to the full. It is a God given privilege to be able to savor all the different experiences it can offer. I am motivated by the opportunity to feel and learn. Why else are we here?" Why indeed.

I most emphatically am not motivated by first hand opportunities to feel and learn. In fact I want to be shielded from opportunities to feel/learn. And this is addiction in a nutshell. The addict wants to be once removed from life. We do not want to experience it raw. We want to know it from behind a buffer. For us each new day only offers new opportunities to be hurt. We strive for the muffled life. My muffler happens to come with powdered sugar. Yours might come with olives or needles or a charge card.

Her response continued. "Do you really want a colorless life with nothing new happening.?"
"You betcha. I want a life I can control." By now she was up and taking the papers off my head. She stopped in her tracks and looked me full in the face.
"Do you really think you can control anything that happens to you?" She was incredulous. "We control very little of what happens to us. All we can control is our response to it."
The synapses in my brain shorted out and I just sat there. What did she mean I couldn't control what happened to me? I am my own worst enemy. Of course I control what happens to me. I have made my life shit. If I had made and did make better choices my life would better. I am completely responsible for everything that has gone wrong in my life.
She patted my hand, "You sound like my teenagers" she said.

What the hell??????

I was and am lost. I have been thinking about all she said since she said it. I don't understand what she meant. And that is addiction. The inability to comprehend/accept the difference between a self controlled life and a God controlled life.

Is this surrender? Response-able only? Is it really that simple? I give up my belief I can control anything?

If I can't control anything is the muffler pointless?

Please God help me to grasp and apply what I heard. Amen

Love Bea

New Directions

2010-01-13T13:59:00.002-07:00

I got up and walked on the treadmill this morning. First time in a long time I have walked other than from fridge to sofa. We were trying to walk outside but at -36 degrees it was just too cold.

I have been for a massage and received much help. Thank-God for Sheri. Without her I'd have been eating the carpet by now. I have also been to see the Chiropractor. Turns out my back trouble is more than just too much snow shoveling. My right hip is out of whack due to tight hamstrings. I was adjusted and given some yoga like exercises to do. (Boy do I miss Yoga Jan.) I am sore this morning but hope to be feeling better soon. I have an appointment to talk to the Pilate's lady to see if I can do the exercises and not go broke doing it. Keep your fingers crossed as I would really like to learn these exercises. I have an appointment in half an hour to get my hair cut and colored. Things are looking up.

I chickened out of going to see the therapist. I am not ready to accept a psychological diagnosis of some sort and become part of the case load at our small counseling center. They do not treat or counsel about eating disorders here. I would have to go to Jackson for that help. May be just my pride stopping me. If so I will get over it and make an appointment. I will get to see my proposed therapist in action at a lecture she is giving on the 23rd. I probably won't do anything until after that.

I am not ready to start an overeating support group. I NEED support right now. I do not want to expend my meagre energies setting up anything. I did put a bug in the ear of the counseling center. I also fired up our pastor about the need for this kind of group. Maybe when I get abstinent I will be willing to put more effort into initiating the thing.

And about that abstinence. I know how I want to go about it this time. I am putting a support system in place for my food and emotional/spiritual help. I am not going to try to go it alone this time. I am optimistic about the outcome. I will let you know when all is ready to go. OK, now off to get rid of this brownish hair.

Take care. Love Bea

It is the Chicken

2010-01-07T11:16:00.002-07:00

Boy I don't even know where to start. At the beginning is always best.

"Am I depressed because I am fat, or fat because I am depressed?" I am depressed because I am addicted to food.

Through another of those oddball coincidences (I call them grace) I came into the possession of a book called "Addiction and Grace" by Gerald May. The book forced me to look my addiction in the face. Why do I keep forgetting I am addicted to food? Part of the addiction process he says. Why do I keep thinking I can handle this on my own? Part of the addiction process he says. I am back to square one with my attachment to finding fullness. First part of square one is finding some help. I truly can't help myself with this problem. (Yes I could adopt another food plan but it is destined to fail. He calls this "attempting to reform your addiction" as opposed to being willing to seek a "transformed life.") I called the counseling center and have an appointment to talk to someone about compulsive eating on Tuesday at 9am. I also called our pastor.

My food addiction is more than a just psychological/physical problem. In the main it is a spiritual problem. I need some spiritual support. And not just me and God. I don't hear Him well enough to to be able to avail myself of the help he is always singing to me. I told the pastor I wanted to start an Overeaters Anonymous group at our church. I told him of my addiction and lack of support. He commissioned me to figure out how to start a group. Said he was all for it and would put it in the budget. Asked me if I thought we could get it up and running by February! Gad. Or should I say, God.

I searched online for OA and Food Addicts info. There is so much it will take me a while to sort through it all. Why have I tried to go it alone for so long? Is a mystery.

I am not depressed any more. I am scared spitless. I feel secure in the confines of my addiction. Letting go of my attachment to food is risky as death for me. Here is where the Grace comes in. God give me the courage and strength to take the risks to step into a "transformed" life. Amen

Take care. Love Bea

The Chicken or the Egg

2010-01-02T05:27:00.003-07:00

Consider the chocolate covered peanut. Brittle outer candy coated shell, soft inner rich sumptuous layer and finally the firm center core. As God is my witness I am that nut.

Told dear sister-in-law yesterday that I am depressed because I am fat. She countered very firmly, "No you are fat because you are depressed." Great, one more thing to think about.

Hope you all had a nice Christmas. I did. Can you believe it? Christmas morning I got out of bed and the depression fell off of me onto the floor. I stepped smartly over it and went to open my presents. I felt great all day and have felt fineish for the past few days. I even rearranged the living room.

What the heck is happening to me? I am worn out from emoting. I am also worn out with the food battle. Those of us with a food problem should be able to go into hibernation for the months of November and December. Maybe I am just exhausted and depressed from the exertion of fighting off fudge. Hey I made a joke. Progress.

But seriously, am I hopeless because I am fat or fat because I am hopeless? I have always assumed the former. I think I have a food problem by which I feel helplessly engulfed, and that depresses me. Any thoughts?

Take care and thanks. Just thanks. Love Bea

Christmas "Crap"

2009-12-23T08:38:00.002-07:00

I said that the other week. In loud ringing tones I said, "I can't wait until all this Christmas crap is over." I meant it. In spades. Turns out I am one of the people who gets depressed at Christmas. Not just a little blue but full out clinically depressed. Who knew? Not me.

I thought I was a person who was irritated by, but basically enjoyed the Holiday Season. Took a bout of immobility and my husband's fear to open my eyes. I have been going down hill for a while now. After Socks died I felt better. Why you ask? I had a reason to cry. But you can't sit around on your duff crying all the time and get any work done. So I got up to get back to work. Only I couldn't. You all know this condition so I won't describe it. Seven days ago I finally got up.

Husband and I were having a cold breakfast. I couldn't dredge up enough oomph to do more than put cold cereal and milk on the table. Mark said something, I don't remember what, and I lashed out at him. He, bless him, just sighed and said, "You get like this every Christmas. I wish I would get used to it." Shocked the jingle bells right out of me. "What do you mean 'Every Christmas'" I inquired in dulcet tones. "Every Christmas you get more depressed" he said. "Every Christmas?" "Yup, every Christmas for twenty years." "And what do you mean by 'more?'"

I got out my journals. Yup, every Christmas for twenty years. I apparently hate Christmas. I thought I was just stressed getting it all done. Turns out it goes much deeper than that. The journals outline the slow gentle spiral downward to my present condition, with a sharp decline noted each Christmas. In a nutshell this is what I am learning.
1. Striving for the "perfect" Christmas kills my spirit.
2. No family/friends close to hand kills.
3. Regret kills.
4. Spending money on crap kills.
5. The food fest kills.
6. Guilt kills.
7. Envy kills.
8. Not having a Christmas sweater that fits kills.
9. Fear kills.
10. Denial kills.
I am dubbing my current contingent of major depressive symptoms the Holiday Panic Flu.

I feel some better. Just knowing I am sick has helped. I have stopped scourging myself for not "doing" Christmas "right" and have begun to drink hot nourishing drinks and take healthy naps. I also take tears as needed.

Mark took the past week off to take care for me. That scared and helped me. I hadn't taken to a corner with a blanket over my head like my mother but I was close. I have had to fight off depression all my life and have been fairly successful, but since we moved up here I seem to be losing the battle. I am no longer able to hide my "shameful, weak, irresponsible" condition as well. At this Season of Cheer people are beginning to suspect. (smile)

I have resisted learning about depression. I research everything else like a fiend but know next to nothing about depression. I bought a book. If my pride will allow it I will read the darn thing. Yes I know, I probably need medication. But not yet. Maybe I can cure myself. Fat chance. Ho Ho Ha Ha. You get it.

Thanks for listening. Stop trying to be Martha Stewart and appreciate your blessings. Merry Christmas. Love Lynn

Mouse Hunt

2009-12-01T10:06:00.002-07:00

This is going to be short as I am supposed to be up here ordering a shirt from Cabella's for Mark.

I miss Socks something fierce. We have a mouse. It must have moved in the day after she died. It is in the kitchen wall behind the stove. I HATE MICE. I grew up with them in our hundred year old house and I can't stand the filthy little beasts. Socks loved mice. We never had one in the eleven years she was with us. Whomper Dinky could care less about them. I put her in front of the stove to at least put the fear of God in the mouse, and she will listen for a minute and then walk off. I am going to have to trap it. Of course I have no traps. It is the first of the month so we are flush again for awhile and the first thing on my shopping list is traps. I hope I can find some of those cardboard live traps. I don't like the old fashioned snap ones. But, if that is all I can find in our hardware store that is what I am buying.

Beautiful weather here. Cold as snot, but beautiful. We went for a hike Thanksgiving day. Was wonderful. The snow was getting pretty deep so we stopped after a couple of miles and just admired the view. We hiked up and down a canyon with a stream beside us. Thank God for my hiking stick. I slipped on the path and it was the only thing that saved me from sliding straight down hill into the water. I think of my self as a sedentary coward. I wonder why?

Okay back to ordering Christmas presents. Thank you all for your condolence messages and stories about the deaths of your own pets. I needed them. It is comforting to know other people know how bad I feel.

Hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving. Now comes the mad race to Christmas. Happy running.

Love Lynn

Gopher Girl

2009-11-24T06:14:00.006-07:00

Rocket Socks died Friday the 20th. She did not go gently into that good night. Her behavior began to change Thursday evening at about 8pm. I knew she was dying and I stayed with her. As she died she became increasingly debilitated and wild. Was awful to watch my gentle cat fight to live. I wanted her to die at home without the stress of going to the vet again. I couldn't do it. We took her to the vet as soon as they opened in the morning. Mark had to put on leather work gloves to pick her up and put her in her carrier. She could no longer walk but her teeth were working big time. She yowled and drooled the whole ten miles to the vet's office. I held the carrier and cried.

The vet and her assistant were wonderful. Kind, caring and very practical. They sedated Socks and then took her out of the carrier. I am not quite sure how, but we all ended up sitting on the floor around her as she slowly relaxed into the bed they brought for her. I petted her and cried. Not just a few tears but sobs and snot. Believe me when I tell you NO ONE ever hears me cry. I might shed a few tears in public but I never make a sound. When I could talk again the vet asked, "Now?" Mark said yes and the vet found the vein and injected my Socket Set. It finished quickly, from gentle breathing to no breathing. Death is peace. I always forget the silence. Dying takes tremendous energy. When it finally occurs there is relief and rest for the first few seconds/minutes afterward. We all just sat there.

Mark was the first to move. In a strangled voice he said, "I'll go get her basket." He was gone a fair bit of time. When he returned we put her in her basket. I tucked her blue rat under her chin between her paws and straightened her collar and bell. The vet wrapped her long fuzzy tail around her. She looked like she was ready for a long nap. Mark covered her with the towel in the basket. We all got up. I still had on my coat. I'd never taken it off. I put on my gloves and picked up the basket. The familiarness of the warm weight in my arms was such a comfort. I blew my nose and tried to look normal. There were kids in the lobby.

The drive home was way too short. I held her and cried. Mollie sniffed her and then sat quietly in the backseat. I wanted those ten miles to be a hundred. I wanted to hold my kitty and never let her go. But all to soon we arrived home. Mark pulled into the garage and turned off the car. More silence. I couldn't move. So we four just sat in the cooling car. I began to pray. I thanked God for love. My love. My ability to love. My opportunity to love. My Rocket Socks who was love. I was and am so blessed by the cheerful long haired tuxedo cat who wandered into my life one fall day, collapsed in ecstasy into the leaves at my feet, and then stayed for eleven bliss filled years.

After the prayer, of which I remember not the words but the feeling, I got out of the car and took Socks inside. I put her basket in its normal place in front of the heater. Whomper immediately went over and sniffed her. She then walked off and did not look back. I sat on the edge of the sofa in my coat and gloves and cried. Mark went outside to take the plastic bags of dirt out of the hole we had dug behind the rose bush. The bags of dirt were frozen so this took some time. I finished crying and picked up Socks and took her outside. I sat on a cold bench and let the sun shine on her while Mark finished enlarging the hole. Socks loved sunshine. She would lay on her back in a sunbeam and I would sing the first verse of "You Are My Sunshine," and she would meow the second verse. We were a big hit at daytime parties. When the hole was large enough I went over and placed her at the bottom. I then got a big trash can and filled it with leaves. I took them to the hole and let them fall over and cover her. Mark cried. We took turns gently putting the earth back into her grave. When we had made a little mound we patted it smooth and went to look for rocks. The ground is frozen so it took a little time to find and dig out the right size and amount of rocks. I cried while I pried out the rocks. Oddly enough there was no one around. In our little hamlet there is always someone out and about doing something. But not that day. Just us in the cold clear sunshine. When we found enough rocks we covered her small grave to make a perfect oval. We moved the shovels, brushed the dirt off ourselves and stood one on either side of the grave. We held hands. Mark said a prayer and thanked God for "Our friend Socks." We cried some more. We were finished.

Grief is hard today. It was hard the past three days. I imagine it will be hard for the next few weeks/months. Friend Kim who just lost her beloved Peg suggested I get out pictures of Socks. This I have done. I have one in every room so I don't feel so alone. Before Mollie this cat was my dog. She followed me everywhere. When I sat down she was on or near me. TV watching is no fun without her. Doing my devotions in the morning is agony. Everyday we would have a fight over my Bible. She loved the feel of the thin pages and would lay on it and lick the corners. Very hard to read something with a ten pound cat right in the center of it. Phooey. I believe there are animals in Heaven. If God worries about sparrows surely cats HAVE to be included. I will see her fuzzy little self again.

But right this minute, I miss my cat. It snowed five inches shortly after we finished her grave. I can't even see it. I want her to come back to me. Phooey. Guess I will cry some more.

Take care. Love Bea

P.S. Gopher Girl: A cat who sits up on her hind legs with her front paws at her chest and waits patiently to be petted.

Atillita

2009-11-13T10:52:00.003-07:00

I wasn't going to write about this but what the heck. I ain't getting any younger. I am being marginalized in society and it has nothing to do with my fat. I am a traditional Christian Republican. And I am increasingly hated. Hated by those who preach tolerance and acceptance. Go figure.

At friend Kim's wedding reception I was seated with some fun people and we were having a fun conversation. Being a group of mature nurses, we were discussing the good old days of health care and decrying the loss of compassion and concern in our chosen profession. This led to a discussion about the decline of civility in the culture in general. This reminded me of something I had heard on the radio so I said, "That reminds me of something Rush Limbaugh said yesterday." Well...the general intake of breath sucked the flowers off the center piece and put out the candles. The shocked looks of all and sundry was something to see. And this from a group of women who routinely discuss excrement and body fluids during lunch. The woman seated next to me scooted away, and a huge silence filled the air. Finally one of these ladies said, and I quote, "Anyone who listens to Rush Limbaugh is a stupid homophobic, racist, Nazi, fascist." Silence on my part. Then she smiled and offered me cream for my coffee. With this offer the conversation resumed around me as though I hadn't spoken. But I was marked.

Now I don't listen to Rush on a daily basis but when you are trapped in a car for two days with a broken CD player, no Ipod, and you have run out of conversation, you want to listen to something. Mark listens daily and has for years so it was no stretch for us to tune in and listen. I kind of like Rush. He's smart, sassy and his struggle with addictions (pain killers, food) is a sometime uplifting topic of conversation that I can relate too. But, I am by no means a political wonk and all that in depth stuff about Congress and the President just bores me. Or at least it has in the past. I find I am getting more political by the day. Each time some perfectly normal nice person calls me a "stupid homophobic racist Nazi" and seems to take pride in the rude idiocy of the comment I drift a little more to the right. I am not yet a total Conservative but I am heading in that direction.

One of the songs we listened to on our journey to Nevada was "Life's Been Good to Me So Far." I love rock. The louder the better. I love this song. The louder the better. A favorite line in the song is, "Every body's so different but I haven't changed." This is what is happening to me. The culture shifted and I haven't. I have what used to be pretty run of the mill Protestant and Patriotic beliefs. I was never very political, or if truth be told, very Christian. So it is still a shock when my formerly common place beliefs are now held to be way right of center and militant. Militant, me? Must be some other poor fool who has the temerity to still believe in sin and self reliance. And to voice those beliefs in the land of free.

God Bless America. Love Lynn

10 Lives

2009-11-05T09:17:00.004-07:00

Rocket Socks is still hanging in there. She is thin and doesn't eat/drink or eliminate much but is up and around and annoying the heck out of the dog. I am giving her subcutaneous IV fluids as needed. The antibiotics are finished and we are both relieved. She goes outside and stalks around the yard like her old self for a few minutes, then is pooped and comes in and sleeps. She seems happy enough. I guess I will know when the time is right to let her go.

Life here is returning to normal after the hubbub of the summer. I am glad. We bought a snow blower so I won't have to kill myself shoveling this winter. I washed the windows and we put up the storms. We have been having some nice days so I washed all the blankets and rugs and dried them on the line. I am back to teaching adult Sunday school, and choir practise starts tonight. I am thinking about volunteering at the Senior Center one day a week delivering meal-on-wheels. I went for a ride along yesterday. Threw me into an unexpected emotional tailspin. Too much like nursing I suspect. I am not sure I want to start driving around in blizzards and fending off dogs again to visit people in their homes. But I have to do something. I am seldom out of my comfort zone anymore. I do not think that to be a healthy situation. (The neighbor's four ducks just strolled by, Huey, Duey, Louey and Donald. Three black and one white. They walk upright like penguins, chatting up a storm the whole time.) I love being at home but I am losing touch with the wide world. It worries me.

I was counting on the new computer to pull me out of my backwater and into the river of life. No money for computer. Snow blower and vet bills took our stash. Phooey. Mark has screwed this old computer up so much I now can't get to one of my email accounts. He broke another printer so I can't print off anything, and the mouse pad has gone missing. I am currently using a piece of cardboard for a mouse pad. Like Virginia Woolf, I HAVE GOT TO HAVE A COMPUTER OF MY OWN.

Okay rant finished. About the comfort zone thing. What do you think, is being content at home worth the trade off of letting "life" pass me by?

I want to stay at home and be a sheltered housewife and write. I love being able to see the ducks walk by and hear the pigs snore. I love the silence of the house. I love hanging clothes on the line and seeing the mountains. I love doing the dishes and gazing down the valley through my kitchen window. I love being at home with this silly dog. I love not being responsible for anyone but myself and my immediate family. I do not love not having current marketable skills and being out of touch with the times. I still write letters and send them snail mail for God's sake. I do not love not contributing anything to anyone. Phooey. I fear I am becoming an anachronism.

Okay whine over. Take Care. Love Bea

Perspective

2009-10-29T14:09:00.002-06:00

My Rocket Socks is dying. We have had her for ten years. As she was a starving stray when we took her in I have no idea how old she is. In dog years my cat is probably ancient. Anyway she is coming to the end of her long and sweet life. I cry all the time.

I knew she was not well when we left for the wedding. She was a bit lethargic and her breath smelled awful. She has had bad teeth for years. I kept putting off getting them all pulled as I didn't want her to be without teeth. As she was still eating like a horse and drinking like a fire engine I figured she was fine and I would take her to the vet and get the teeth attended to when we got home. I checked on her during the week we were gone and her caretaker said she was about the same. I was not worried in the slightest.

She had lost two pounds by the time we returned home. She was so dehydrated her skin was tenting up. The whole house stank of her foul breath. I rushed her to the vet. You guessed it. Renal failure. I should have guessed it too only I was so focused on her teeth kidney failure never occurred to me. I felt pole axed when the nice young vet told me she was dying. I couldn't think. He kept gently asking me to make a decision about putting her to sleep vs. treatment. I was unable to process what he was saying. Finally he left me alone and let me sit down and hold her and think. Eventually he came back into the room and talked to me. He said although her lab work was "off the chart" he thought she had a good chance of "coming out" of "this episode." She was still eating and drinking and eliminating. She did not seem to be in any pain. She was still alert. After much conversation I decided to opt for treatment. I was not ready to lose her.

She spent two days at the vet. They gave her two bags of IV fluid. A bag of IV fluid is almost the same size as a cat. They put her on antibiotics for her teeth. They let me bring her her rat. She curled up around it and slept. I spent the two days holding her basket and howling like another sick animal. Grief like I have never experienced it. I think I have lived in a house of grief my whole life but have never ventured beyond the foyer. Her death is allowing me to finally enter all the rooms and wash them clear. One more blessing she is giving me.

We brought her home. I am giving her oral antibiotics daily and irrigating her mouth with peroxide and salt water every few hours. She hates it all. Me too. She perked right up after all that fluid. Was almost like her old self for four days. But it was not to last. In the past twenty-four hours her eating, drinking and eliminating have slowed way down. We are going to the vet in the morning. I hope it will be for more IV fluid and a return home, but I am not counting on it.

When we were at the vet's the first time he told us how they dispose of their dead animals. They take them to the dump and throw them on the pile of all the road kill and untagged wild animals found during the past month. Then they burn them. I was so grateful he told us that. We will bring her home. I have picked out her favorite basket and blanket. We will wrap her in her blanket, put her in her basket with her blue rat, put all of that in a big garbage bag and then bury her beside the rose bush. It has been getting below zero here at night. Mark dug the hole a couple of days ago while the ground was still soft.

I intend to spend the evening holding and petting my kitty whom I love. Tomorrow will take care of itself.

Take care of yourselves. Love Lynn

Greetings

2009-10-16T11:19:00.002-06:00

From the "biggest little city in the world." Reno is great. The fall colors are magnificent and the sun is shining.

We left Tuesday in a welter of last minute details. I forgot friend Kim's phone number and address, and the confirmation code for the hotel. We had to go back home to get it. Mark was not amused. We eventually got down the road. We made it as far as Wells, NV. The drive was wonderful. We toured southern Idaho to circumvent the Salt Lake. The trees were blazing red. Was a great drive. We then rode an old Nevada highway to Wells. Was like being in Wyoming twenty years ago. We did not see a soul for hours. I don't suppose on an August afternoon this would have been a wonderful route, but on a rainy fall afternoon it was magic.

The motel in Wells was dirty and noisy but at least it was expensive. Sigh. We drove into Reno the next day. Sunshine all the way. We drove right to the Peppermill even though I forgot the directions. We felt blessed. Here is where my story takes a u-turn. I had not been in a casino for years. And never one this big. Gad. It was like entering Dante's Inferno.

Can I tell you first about the cigarette smoke. I grew up with people who smoked. It was no big deal. At 52 after not being around it for years, it is a BIG deal. My eyes are gritty and I cough. My hair stinks, in fact everything we own stinks. I will even have to launder the suitcases when we get home.

In an effort to save money I booked the cheapest room available at the "Pep." Big mistake. We are in a ground floor room next to a busy street. I firmly believe freight trains playing loud mariachi music go by once an hour day and night. The room looks plush but is missing many of the amenities we have come to expect in hotels. Like tissues, towel racks, a microwave and fridge, and a coffee maker. It does have a fully stocked mini bar, a huge tray of candy and nuts in little jars, and a huge t.v. for in room gambling and porno movies. About that tray off food, everything is on a sensor. If you pick it up you have just purchased a five dollar bag of nuts. We don't go anywhere near it. Our room is in a small building miles from the main casino. This is good in that the smoke doesn't seem to have drifted this far, yet. The bad thing is that the building is made of cardboard walls. We seem to have a troupe of clog dancers above us. They must practice their various routines during the night. These numbers are punctuated by one of the troupe dropping five pound bar-bells intermittently. Mark is snoring through it all. Phooey.

We have seen friend Kim and her intended. They are in love, and lovely. A fine sight to behold. This should be a fun wedding. We have visited the art museum and the historical society museum. Both places well worth seeing. Okay I have to hurry I am having a manicure in five minutes. The hotel has a huge plushy spa attached. We are going to Lake Tahoe for wedding practise this afternoon. Then the rehearsal dinner.

Clothes and fat have turned out to be a non-issues. I am so happy to be here what I look like doesn't matter.

Take care, Love Bea

Garbo and Me, (Greta not Marx)

2009-10-08T10:18:00.004-06:00

We have been traveling around the state visiting friends and relations. A good time was had by all. The one exception was having to travel a whole gob more miles because Yellowstone was on fire, again.

I am out of step with the times. I do not want to:

1. Twitter or tweet
2. Face up to Face book
3. Read all the emails forwarded to me
4. Text
5. Keep my cell phone turned on
6. Ride the continual wave on the blog surf
7. Kindle my books
8. IPod my music
9. GPS my travels
10. Pay my bills on-line.

Because I stubbornly refuse to be available to all comers at all hours, I am losing contact with people. I most bitterly regret that.

I love silence. I luxuriate in silence. I stretch and relax and purr in the silence. I regenerate in silence. I pray and am heard in silence. Continual noisy activity jangles and jars me. It sucks out my being. It is no surprise I wrote a thesis about medieval anchoresses, women walled up in a cell connected to a church. A bed, a table and chair, a good fire, a loving cat, a few victuals, books, pen and paper, and a small window to the outside world, my idea of Heaven on Earth.

My need for long stretches of quiet time is always misunderstood as lack of love and interest. Not true. I value my family and friends much more than they know. My need for contact is vital, but not daily, weekly, monthly or God forbid by the minute. This attitude is considered selfish and narcissistic at worst or standoffish and odd at best. It has cost me relationships, opportunities and experiences I was loathe to lose.

In my doldrums I believe myself to be a mentally ill neurotic who isolates herself in fear of a world she cannot control. Like my mother. In my blessedness I believe myself to be a quiet deep reservoir into whom flows Grace and out of whom flows Love and Peace. Like my God. I expect it is some of both. Anyway if you are still out there reading, for my part know you remain connected to me by intention if not deed.

We will leave soon for friend Kim's wedding. I am looking forward to it. I hope to heck it doesn't snow the whole darn way. I haven't yet got my winter legs.

Take care, Love Bea

Wardrobe Malfunction

2009-09-21T11:49:00.003-06:00

Remember a couple of years ago the Spanx discussion on AFGZ? In my self righteous new lighter body I thought, "I will NEVER resort to wearing a girdle again." Pass the foundation garments, with gravy.

Maybe the darn thing is too little. I swear to God, I can hardly move in it. I got the over the waist down the thigh model. With the "crotch gusset." (Like that is a major selling feature.) If I attempted to p** through that small hole I would have the same results as when I relieve myself in the forest while hiking. Wet hiking boots. The Flex camisole is a little better. I can breathe in it. Unfortunately when I inhale it snaps upwards and rolls into a rubber band around my waist. Not the look I am going for. Sigh.

I did find a big purple outfit. A skirt and top. A crepey polyester elastic waist tunic top affair. An XL is too small and a 1X is too big. I opted for the 1X and will take in the elastic on the skirt. With the tartan sash and black shoes and pearls I am passable. I look like the mother of the bride but "Oh well." As matron of honor I figure it is my duty to make the bride look swell. Now I just need clothes for the shower and the rehearsal dinner. Sigh.

I watched a sermon the other morning that went straight to the heart of me. It was about the safety of living within your boundaries. As a person hooked on security I was all ears. According to Joyce (preacher) living outside your boundaries sets you up for danger. Breached food boundaries equal ill physical, emotional and mental health. Breached money boundaries equal debt and stress. Breached sexual boundaries equal disease and broken hearts and self respect. As a pacifistic people pleaser I frequently step outside of my boundaries and get mugged. I love the idea of living within my boundaries and being safe.

My new anti-people pleaser answer to everything is, "I'll get back to you." Then I go home and figure out all the consequences of saying yes. A really
safe and smart way to live I think.

Take care. Love Bea

Fake Me

2009-09-15T13:26:00.004-06:00

Question: Why do I feel like a fake all the time?

This week I have felt like more of a fake than I have in years. I am tired of being the me others would like me to be. I am frustrated with going along to get along. I want to know what I think and feel, and say and do so.

I want a simple uninvolved life. I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it. "IRRESPONSIBLE AND UNCHRISTIAN" clang back and forth in my brain. If I do not feel concern or compassion I do not want to be forced to care or take action. "With that attitude you will end up miserable and alone." "What if everyone felt like that?" "You will hate yourself if you don't help." "That is not Christ like behaviour." Jesus have mercy.

I have spent my whole life being manipulated by people and situations into doing stuff I did not want to do. I have gone along with it because I figured that unless I was pushed I would sit on my ass and not do or care about anyone or anything.

This morning I rescued a horse.

Most every day at the crack of dawn we walk down a country road. We know all the dogs and cats and horses. This morning there was a big beautiful bay horse in a pasture full of hay bales. A pasture with an old, old fence and no gates. A pasture that is not meant to house livestock. It was dark and foggy. A busy county highway runs parallel to the country road we walk on. As we walked past the horse came tearing out of the pasture and ran up on the highway. I did not think twice. I ran after the horse. It stopped in the middle of the highway frightened by the lights of the oncoming traffic. I ran up to its head and said, "Come here." I was scared out of my wits so sounded very stern. The horse turned, looked at me and then followed me down into the bar pit and back onto the dirt road. I got between it and the highway and kept urging it forward. When we got to the place where I thought it belonged I took it into the corral and shut the gate. I then went up to the house and rang the door bell. Keep in mind it is only 6:30 a.m.. I said to a very startled woman in a bathrobe, "Your horse was on the highway and we brought it back." She yelled and ran to get her husband. At that point we left. I sure hope it was their horse.

The point of all that was, no one forced me to care about that horse. I could have just walked on and assumed someone else would care about it. But I didn't. I didn't want to. I wanted to help. I was in fact desperate to help. Like with Mollie. And the cats. What if I can trust the Love within me to direct my caring and concern? What if I don't need to be pushed and guilted into helping others? What if I can trust I will be led and motivated to help where I am needed? What then? I'll bet I will be way less fake. And way less frustrated. If I have something to offer in a situation I will want to get involved. If not...God has someone else in mind for the job. Whoa Nellie.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

Limpimg Along

2009-09-10T13:40:00.002-06:00

I feel like my body is living at hyper speed and my brain is foggily attempting to catch up. Much going on around here at present.

In the midst of the hubbub I am attempting to find a purple dress for friend Kim's wedding. What an emotional nightmare. I am in agony about my 15 pound weight gain and each dress I try on is a fresh hell. When you gain weight nothing fits. Not your underwear or your coats or your jeans or your shoes. It costs money to replace all of that so you make do with the couple of pieces that still fit while telling yourself you will soon lose the weight and won't have to replace everything. But then comes life. I want to have clothes that fit for the week I will be at Kim's. So what was just a hunt for a big purple dress has now turned into a marathon shopping event for a whole new larger sized cheap wardrobe. I hate it.

Over the holiday weekend we went to Jenny Lake Lodge for lunch. Having thrown caution to the winds I was eating the sumptuous repast and not counting the cost when I noticed a lady at our companion table staring at me. She was drilling me with her eyeballs. I was unnerved and faltered getting my chocolate cake into my mouth. When I dropped the bite she sort of came to and looked away. As we were leaving she stopped me and apologized for staring. "I have been on a diet for a year now and I almost couldn't tear my eyes away from that cake you were eating." As she was the friend of a friend and we were in no hurry I asked her about her diet. Turns out she has lost 75 pounds so far. She has plateaued and has been stuck for six months. She is living in abject fear. We sat down at this point and talked for an hour. We discussed "failure."

I feel like a failure and so does she. To be a failure at weight loss negates every good thing in one's life. We discussed our successes and blessings. Between the two of us it was quite a list. And it didn't matter a hill of beans. If you can't get and keep the fat off you might as well be dead. I see this is stupid thinking even as I write it, nevertheless....

I have no answers and am aware that this is not an encouraging post. But it made me feel better to say it out loud.

Cheers, Bea

P.S. I look like Barney in those big purple dresses.

Back To Basics

2009-09-02T10:25:00.003-06:00

A "narrow minded" homophobe. Sigh. Once more into the breech.

I have been writing about myself for three years. I thought most of my basic beliefs had come out by now. Apparently not.

I believe in God and I believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God and I believe in the Holy Spirit. I believe in sin and I believe we can choose "outer darkness" if we do not repent of our sins. I believe sin is what is described in the Bible as "sin." I also believe sin is anything that separates a person from God. I have made food sin because I think about it way more than I do God. I sometimes waste my prayer time thinking about the width of my thighs instead of the depth and breadth of God's love for me. I have made food a false idol in place of God. I have sinned sexually (Bible definition), and I am a terrible gossip (Bible definition). I sin a lot, and I repent a lot, and I am forgiven a lot. I am grateful.

Okay, I was going to give up writing about food, but...I have been given a valuable insight about me and my eating. I get joy from eating. Not just happiness at having my hunger/anxiety relieved, but joy. No big surprise right? Well it was to me. Joy and food do not belong together. Joy belongs to the divine not the mundane. My dog's smile, my lover's touch, an insight during a quiet bird filled morn, these things bring me joy, not cheesecake. I am trying to get food to bring me closer to God. It ain'ta gonna happen. Food is just fuel.

"Yes" to whoever said it was okay for food to be boring. In fact for me it needs to be boring. Too much choice sets my senses a whirl and I want more, more, more...ad infinitum. Same old, same old is my answer. I am grateful.

Tres interesting times at church as we all attempt to come to terms with ELCA's recent decision. The division is about half and half. Painful when a family of beloveds prays and comes up with exact opposite answers. We are struggling forward together at this point. I pray it will always be so. Amen.

Take care. Love Bea

Fake Dieter

2009-08-27T13:05:00.004-06:00

I am a mess right now so hold onto your socks.

My heart is cracking. Our current church, Lutheran, just chose to ordain gay clergy. Our former church, Episcopalian, chose to ordain gay clergy. We left the Episcopal church because we do not believe in gay CLERGY. Yes I think homosexual behavior is a sin. I also believe gluttony is a sin. I go to church every Sunday. Church is the place you take your sin because you cannot cope with it on your own. It broke my heart to leave the Episcopal church and our church family. I may soon need to survive another broken heart, don't know yet. Pray for me and Husband.

I was going to write a funny about Mark and turkey. Maybe I still will. I am ambling my way back toward my food plan. Part of the plan is four ounces of protein at each meal. No problem with lunch and supper, but I get awful sick of eggs for breakfast. So I have been making lean hamburger patties, salmon, little pork chops and...turkey burgers. I have tried every turkey burger on the market as well as making my own. All of them taste from bad to worse, and smell h-o-r-r-i-b-l-e. So this morning I had a new brand of burger and decided to prekill the taste with a nice blend of herbs. I liberally sprinkled the herbs on the patties and flopped them on the grill. Within three minutes Mark came streaking into the kitchen from the shower. "No more damn turkey before 11:30 a.m.," he bellowed. "I don't want turkey burgers, or turkey breasts, or turkey meatballs, or turkey giblets or turkey legs for breakfast. What do you have against pigs? Why can't we just have bacon and ham and sausage like normal people?" Why indeed?

I started this blog a couple of years ago when I was losing weight. In the past three years I have quit losing and have regained fifteen pounds. Should I still pretend to be blogging about weight loss? I weigh 195 and seem to be mentally, emotionally and physically stuck there. I read the Fat Crack book, and sighed. I don't want to work that hard at my food. I read all of your success stories and feel like a fake dieter and a big ole failure. I am thinking of quitting the blog because I have nothing to add to the weight loss conversation. Does is matter if I quit writing about losing weight?

What do you all eat protein wise for breakfast? No chicken or soy protein (veggie burger) suggestions. They were sampled and vetoed along with the tuna patties.

Take care. Love Bea

Addicted To Emotional Comfort

2009-08-20T13:01:00.003-06:00

The book "How To Refuse to Make Yourself Miserable About Anything" by Albert Ellis has been around since 1988. Ellis is the founder of RET, Rational Emotive Therapy. This school of psychotherapy loosely falls under the behavior modification classification. It is based on our ability to see and debunk our 'irrational" core beliefs and thereby change our "irrational" behavior.

For example, when I get extremely anxious I binge. My core belief is that I really "can't stand" suffering my off the charts anxiety (low frustration tolerance) and that I "have to have" the food to calm me down (fill in the empty spaces between the synapses). As all bingers know, that is a fairly cut and dried description of the ragged bleeding feelings that drive us to eat non-stop. Using RET to combat overeating is basically asking yourself a series of rational logical questions. The first of which may be, "Can I stand it? Am I standing it?"

I tried it. Turns out I knew full well I could "stand it." If someone had come to the door my binge would have shut down like I had been doused with cold water. I just didn't want to stand it. I wanted to get rid of the emotions, I wanted to feel the ahhhhh release, I wanted to relax and sleep. I did and do not want to feel my negative emotions.

I have never wanted to cope with my anxiety/frustration. Mark says my favorite saying is, "Why does everything have to be so damn difficult?" I did not realize I even said that. I eat because of low frustration tolerance.

Another of my core beliefs is that I am "owed." God or the universe "owes" me an easy life. What hubris. What irrational hubris. I didn't realize I believed this ridiculous thing. Since I am owed it is "unfair" when something bad happens to me. And I "just can't stand it." And I feel frustrated and anxious, and don't want to feel that way. And I eat to blot out the emotions. Round robin.

I only touched the tip of the information in this book. It is full of great stuff and has been a wake up call for me. If I choose to use the strategies of RET my life will change. It has already changed. Turns out the statement, "I can stand it," is VERY empowering. Addictions can be conquered.

I am sorry I am not reading more. I come up here once a week (maybe) to post and read. Seems like my time is filled up with other things and I do not think of this (blog) as a priority. I am rethinking this.

Take care. Love Bea

P.S. Yoga Fran says I am her most improved student. I can finally do the bow and last time I almost touched my socks while attempting the camel. I am a whiz at the plank.

Whew!

2009-08-12T10:27:00.003-06:00

Good gravy what a month I had and am having.

I deep cleaned every square inch of my house and yard in preparation for guests. Then had two sets of guests. I have been to every fair and social gathering out there, and still have more to attend. I have purchased and cooked and eaten until I never want to see food again. (Alas, if only it were so.) I have shopped until I dropped and driven hundreds of miles to do so. I have spent money like it grew on trees. I have done so much laundry my washer is on permanent speed dial. I am having a good time but I am pooped.

I haven't had many insights lately because you have to be present to yourself for info to seep into the soul. I have been on autopilot. Cheerful autopilot, but still oblivious to almost everything but the next needful task. On one of these marathon shopping expeditions I did buy a book that is bringing me up short. "How To Refuse To Make Yourself Miserable About Absolutely Anything," has some uniquely useful thoughts. I know I have "minimal impulse control" but I did not know I also had "low frustration tolerance." These two conditions together are lethal for an addictive personality, or else they are the components of an addictive personality. I haven't got far enough into the book to know yet. I thought I had a high anxiety tolerance. Turns out being able to function effectively while anxious and under pressure is NOT low frustration tolerance. In fact tolerating this much misery for extended periods of time makes the condition worse!!! Low frustration tolerance is the inability to self soothe, I think. I have to read more about it to make sure. The condition is exquisitely painful and will be avoided at all costs. Addicts use their substance of choice to numb the pain of the anxiety. I'll bet this is another one of those things like impulse control that is normally taught in childhood. Bugger.... But I guess if Moll Dog's can learn impulse control, so can I.

I am going to do some research about this low anxiety tolerance thing. If any of you know about it please let me know.

Take care of yourselves and think of me as I smile sweetly at about a thousand more parties.

Love Bea

Fat Tax

2009-07-30T14:54:00.004-06:00

Husband was reading something last eve that referred to an advocacy group who is urging that a "fat tax" be added to the new health care reform bill. The new tax would be leveled against people with above average BMIs. The greater your BMI, the greater your tax. The tax was deemed necessary because fat people cost the health care system more money.

Horseshit. I don't know about you all but I have to be on my death bed before I darken the door of a health care facility. We just do not seek out health care. And when we are finally forced to, we are frequently offered substandard (read cheap) care. I'll bet overall less health care money is spent on us than our thinner compatriots. Mark told me about this idiot proposal just as we were going to bed. It mad me boiling mad. So mad I couldn't sleep. So mad I spent a good portion of the night sitting on the sofa thinking. And this is what I thought.

How long Oh Lord am I going to be defined by my fat? The print/video world is always ready to squash me like a bug because of my "elevated BMI." But do I have to agree with that world? Maybe not. Went to a another party this past weekend. Sat with someone who I did not know very well. In the course of our becoming acquainted I brought up my struggle with my weight. This person said, "I didn't know you had a weight problem." There I sat in all my fat, and she couldn't tell I had a weight problem? I was astounded. What gives? I think I might look fatter to me than I do to the world at large. (no pun) Hard to accept, but I guess I do not look obese. Just run of the mill overweight. Ho hum, no big deal. (again no pun) So if the folks I meet and the folks I know do not define me by my fat, WHY THE HECK AM I STILL DOING IT?

Because I am unwilling to let go of my past. I am more comfortable with who I was than who I am. I am not a nurse, I am not a historian, I am not a wounded sexual abuse victim and apparently I am no longer fat enough to cause comment. I am label less in my head. Does that make me a nothing? Sure feels like a nothing. Again around the same mountain.

Life is busy. Washing windows and curtains. Finished new flower bed. Carpet cleaning next on the agenda. Family coming second weekend in August. Fair will soon be in full swing. Pigs next door are on short time. Apples on the tree are beginning to blush. Hummingbirds are drinking me out of pounds of sugar water. Husband is in love with lawn tractor. Life is summery good.

Take care. Love Bea

Still MIA

2009-07-17T09:05:00.002-06:00

Gad it has been almost two weeks since I have even been near the computer. Summer has hit with a vengeance. Has finally warmed up and lawn and plants are growing like weeds. So are the weeds. Visitors and socializing are at an all time high. I almost long for a snow day. Strike that comment with a stick. It froze the week before last during the night. I no want cold no more.

I went to my physical and mamo apts. I have been having dreams about being raped ever since. My psyche does not like anyone touching my body. Had blood work done a couple of months ago at the health fair. Doctor reviewed it at this latest appointment. Blood work shows me as anemic. I don't think I am now. I think I was low on red blood cells because I had just donated a couple of days previous. I told doc this and suggested I get a blood panel now to check. But no, he is convinced I have gastrointestinal bleeding and need a colonoscopy. Give me strength. Yes I probably do need as colonoscopy as I am over fifty and have never had one. (Two saddled horses just strolled by reigns dragging on the ground. No, make that three. No riders in sight. Neighbor girl must be training them for the fair.) After much soul searching, I think I will go ahead with the procedure. But not because I think I have GI bleeding. I will do it because it is another opportunity to take care of myself. I hate going to the doctor. I went in for an annual physical and to get my prescriptions renewed and came out with bowel cancer. Oh yes, mamo went fine...no doctors involved. Phooey. (Okay here comes Rae with the horses. She must have been making them walk around the block.)

Sorry to all that I have not been reading. I miss you. Mark uses this desktop computer in the evening and I have been working like a dog during the days. So no computing. Next month is computer month for me!!! I have info about laptops coming out my ears and am way confused. Do I need a web cam and audio? Do I need a 15 or 17 inch screen? Do I need to burn CD's and DVD's ? How many USB ports do I need? What software do you all have that you couldn't live without? Do I need the pad that goes under the laptop to keep it cool? Do I need a mini mouse? What gadgets do you have on your computers that you couldn't live without? Thank you for your help.

Say a prayer for me about the colonoscopy. I am scared sick.

Enjoy the sunshine. I am. Love and kisses. Bea

MIA

2009-07-07T13:13:00.003-06:00

Life has become complicated. I hate that. I am trying to do too many things in too little time. Here is a brief update of my fascinating life.

1. Yoga is great. I have identified my stiff areas. Turns out my upper body is fairly limber and my hips are practically set in stone. I am working on this. We had seven people at the last class. Yoga Jan and I were so pleased as it was just us a few weeks ago. Having to move the pews before each class is a pain in the...lower back.

2. Went back on my food plan. I am tired of feeling like hell as well as being fatter. Sugar is my enemy. Why can't I remember that?

3. Have appointments for physical and mammo. This is a major deal for me.

4. Mark may run for office. I am trying to decide if I can cope with all of the crap that goes with the decision.

5. I have turned some sort of corner self esteem wise. I am what I am and you either like me or not. Makes me no mind. I like me. I am a hoot.

6. Attended a dinner of wealthy retirees (golfers) on the Fourth. There were 400 of us in the RV Resort "Barn." Was like watching very well dressed tan people dancing on the deck of the Titanic. Tres weird.

7. Was in the parade in one of the little burgs up here. Had a grand time.

8. Moll Dogs is terrified of fireworks and thunder. We have had fire works and storms for a week. She has been sleeping in the bathtub with a radio going. I hate pretentious NPR but it is all I can pick up other than country and western. So I have been listening along with her. Ugh.

9. We were given an old lawn tractor. It runs and saws off the grass. I spent my summers mowing lawns as a kid. Turns out I can still whiz around on a tractor. Sure beats the electric push mower.

10. Figured out my CA conundrum. In the past all my "fun" trips to the Land of OZ were filled with fear and misery. No wonder my body did not want to go. Has taken my brain a little while to put the pieces together.

11. Haven't watched the tube for a while. I am busy during the day and am sitting out on the deck feeding the mosquitoes of an evening. Am reading about France in the thirties. A much needed relief from self help stuff.

12. Have signed up to do way to much stuff at church. This is coming to an end. I am quitting committees.

That's all folks. I will be doing catch up reading later when I get this darn policy for the church Stewardship Committee done. I used to get paid for writing policies and procedures. I loved it. Turns out I don't love it no more. Well I better get cracking, I have to present it at the Council mtg. tonight.

Hosta la veesta Babies. Bea

Recovery 101

2009-06-25T15:03:00.002-06:00

Food will not cure the flu. How many times am I going to have to say this to you people?

I am much recovered. Lolling around wishing to die just made me feel worse. And eat more. I began to feel like myself when I got up and replanted my dog dug up barrels. Hope to eventually have radishes, lettuce, peas and cucumbers. Went to the store and bought stuff for window boxes and big barrel out front and also got those planted. Restained the deck!!!!!! Yeah. One of the summer projects done. Also washed a couple of windows and killed some dandelions from hell. Movement is good.

I need to remember that sitting around does not make me well, it just makes me depressed. I guess I live to accomplish stuff. When I do nothing my self esteem tanks. Mark made me rest on the sofa for a few hours. No reading, no watching t.v., no talking on the phone, and I wasn't sleepy. I was just supposed to recline there and enjoy the view. Fat chance. Yes it's a pun. I was ravenous immediately. Enforced idleness just kills me. I can only rest good if I have 1001 things to do and am putting them all off. Either way, I eat.

Had my second yoga class. I learned something. Man am I stiff. Almost rigid. I don't suppose that comes as a surprise to anyone. I see that this yoga stuff could do as much for my mind as it does for my body. I am rigid. I got rules for everything and I do not roll with the punches. I have my plan and if it is foiled I sort of shut down for a while. Friend Kim's husband-to-be says he needs time to mourn Plan A before he can move on to Plan B. Exactly. I can do spontaneous if I am relaxed, but I can't change horses in mid stream if I am focused or tense. Makes me crazy. And no plans at all are worse than mis-managed mounts. To have no plans is like being dead. I want to loosen up.

So this yoga thing, I am terrible at it. I crack and pop and fall over a lot. But, I think it will eventually make me more flexible.

Did you know that Harbor Boulevard in Anaheim is littered with little shoes? I could not figure it out. I thought it was some sort of very avaunt guard landscaping thing. Or maybe some perverted child abuse thing. Wrong. Harbor Blvd. leads straight into Disneyland. I watched a tired family shuffling down the sidewalk back toward the hotel late one evening. Mom was pushing a soundly sleeping baby in a stroller and Dad was carrying two tired toddlers. As he slowly walked along both of the kids fell asleep...and then their shoes fell off. A California mystery solved.

Next time: How a $45 facial ends up costing $235 and, gives the facialee raging athlete's foot. Another California mystery.

Take care. Love Bea

Swine Flu

2009-06-19T10:36:00.002-06:00

Because I am sick and eating like a pig. Be sure to read the last post.

I sat by a teenage girl on the plane. She coughed all over me from Santa Ana to Salt Lake. Car trip home was a nightmare. Poured with rain the whole entire drive. Getting up that canyon out of Salt Lake driving blind was awful. We were both exhausted when we left CA and about dead by the time we got home.

We arrived here at 6pm. Had rained here every day we were gone. Lawn was a foot tall. House smelled like cat pee. I don't know why. Cats and dog had been in dog jail for a week. I immediately began doing laundry so Mark could leave again at 6am for a three day trial. Took us all eve to get unpacked and him repacked. We went to bed about 11pm. Neither one of us could sleep. I am having hot flashes from hell. We got up at 5am and he left at 6am to drive 115 miles. I felt so bad for him. He looked haggard. The trial started at 8:30.

I slept in a chair after he left until eight. I then got up, showered and drove 30 miles to get the animals. Still pouring rain of course. Cost almost $400 to board them for a week. Mollie was wild. Like when we first got her. She jumped on me and scratched the heck out of my chest. Cats were more laid back. Ignored me completely. We all got good and wet loading up. Mollie whined and the cats meowed the whole way home. I cried.

Upon arrival and after more crazy running around Mollie finally settled down. Socks hid in the basement and Whomper pooped on the kitchen floor. I put in another load of laundry and sat back down in my chair. I woke up two hours later. I was ringy and removed, like I was functioning at slow motion under water. I switched the laundry around and in this condition I loaded the dog and drove to the post office to get the mail. Brought it home in a box. I put it down on the kitchen table (where most of it still resides) and went back to the chair to sleep. Woke up later and drove thirty miles to take care of a friend's cat. They are also on vacation. After cat duty I went to the grocery store. Are alarm bells ringing in your heads? I bought cookies, ice cream, pizza, frozen dinners, bagels and strawberries. I drove thirty miles home and after another laundry rotation, began to eat. I ate a whole plastic thing of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. That turned out to be ten cookies the size of muffins. Then I had half of a quart of ice cream. A friend called and asked me if I would help her move the next day. I said yes. The dog and I then went to bed. Mark woke me up to tell me how the first day of the trial had been. I vaguely recall talking to him. I woke up with nasty hot flashes off and on all night. Had terrible dreams about taking a shower with a bunch of horses in a box car. Gad.

Got up next morning at 9:30. Dog was nuts. She ran around the yard for half an hour solid. Ate bagels and strawberries for breakfast and showered. Still felt weird, and exhausted. Loaded up dog and drove thirty miles to friend's house. Friend's big house. U-Haul and our minister's wife's car were parked outside. No other cars. This was a surprise as a whole crew of men were supposed to be there. They never arrived. Three women over forty, one tired husband and a six year old moved and loaded furniture all day. I was a blithering idiot. I packed and carried and talked in a fog. I left at about 5:30 pm. I then drove to vacation friend's house and fed the cat. Then I drove home. I ate a whole big pizza, a bagel and the rest of the half gallon of ice cream. I passed out in the chair. Mark woke me up later and I talked to him. The dog and I went to bed. I slept in my clothes.

Got up at 6:30 to shower to be at the church for my first yoga class at 8am. I arrived first to set up stuff. I moved a couple of rows of pewchairs and set up the music. Yoga Jan and friend PW (preacher's wife) showed up. PW was as sore as me. She should have been incapacitated as she and the tired husband moved most of the furniture. Jan lead us in a wonderfully painful session. I stretched muscles I didn't even know I had. The relaxation thing at the end was priceless. I am looking forward to next week. We moved the pews back into place and all left. I drove to friend's house to help finish up with the moving and clean. We worked until about 1pm and then quit. She fed me a ham sandwich and then on my own I ate four of her brownies. Her little son really hated me for that. I drove to vacation friend's house and fed the cat. Mark called and said the jury had come back sooner than anticipated and he would be home in a couple of hours. I drove home and made the bed and did more laundry and did the dishes. The damn cats had pooped and peed on the the kitchen floor again. I cleaned that up and laid down on the couch to because I couldn't stand up. Mark woke me up when he got home. I couldn't talk and was so dizzy I couldn't get up. I cried some more. He made me some tea and tucked me in and I slept for the rest of the afternoon and evening. I ate a whole roll of those refrigerator biscuits when I woke up and then went back to bed.

Happy end of story. I slept all day yesterday. Mark went to store and got some real food (soup and juice and jello) and that made me feel better. He figured out why the cats were defecating in the kitchen and the house smelled of cat pee. I had forgotten to clean their boxes. Oh well. He took the dog out to play. He mowed the lawn. I am better today. I am not as ringy and my throat hurts less. I feel like I weigh a thousand pounds though. All those carbs have blown me up like a balloon. I have to take a shower and drive over to feed the vacation cat and that is all I am going to do today. Gad what a weird week.

Am I glad to be home? Mebbee. Love Bea Oh, and that athlete's foot I got while getting the facial is clearing up nicely. Later.

There and Back Again

2009-06-17T02:52:00.003-06:00

It is 3am and I am sick as a dog. Hot flashes, throat hurts and muscle aches all over. Have been thinking about my trip and the fallout from it. How valuable is each moment of our existence?

I did not want to make this trip. I went because Mark wanted me to go and I did not want to disappoint him. I made him pay every step of the way. I am not proud of that. He was a dear and I was a bitch. Phooey. This trip stripped me to the bone.

Long minutes spent waiting for Mark in the lobby of the Marriott with no plans, no reading material, and no food allowed me to face myself. It is a self I am not too fond of. Heck, let's call a tuning fork a road grader, I am miserable. I hate regrets. And I am looking into a bucket load of them. Not regret for the grand missteps in my life, those I look back on with some pride. Took a lot of risk to be that stupid. No the regrets that are currently plaguing me are the little foxes. They are spoiling the vines of my life. The "yeses" when I want to say "no," the "noes" that should be yes, the inaction that could be movement, the action that could be rest. (Just let the dog outside and I could hear the neighbor's pigs snoring. Is very quiet here.) My Marriott meditations showed me a life of much self induced misery.

I have thought about and written out my life priorities before but not as real attainable goals. They were more pie in the sky wishy sort of vague longings. I did not really believe I could do anything about making my dreams come true. God determined my fate and I was just sort of along for the ride. Wrong. This trip has made me see that unless I gather up my courage and energy my life might just fade into pointless oblivion. Yes I believe if I died I would go to Heaven, but I don't want to waste the time I have been given in the present waiting for future Grace. And dear friends I have been wasting my precious minutes hours and days in fear and pointless endeavor.

Life is about loving one another. It is about driving 47 miles in rush hour traffic to meet someone you have never met. It is about cutting your nervous tired husband some slack. It is about not eating so much sugar you pass out. It is about coping with dog and cat dirt because of the joy they bring to you. It is about helping a friend move 24 hours after you have returned from a trip because you love her. It is about being grateful to God that you were up at 3am to hear the pigs snoring.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

P.S. Helen post away. As long as you don't post that picture where look like I should be wearing a stocking cap lined with tin foil I will be okay.

Helen

2009-06-13T11:05:00.002-06:00

Drove a million miles to meet us in Friday night traffic, and I am grateful. Was a treat to see one of my blog buddies face to face. In the wilds of Wyoming it is sometimes hard to believe you all exist. Not so hard to believe here in paradise. Miracles are possible.

I am down today. I am tired today. I want to go home today. I miss my dog, cats and my isolated home today. I am well and truly out of my comfort zone. I wouldn't change a thing.

Meeting Helen was an eye opener for me. She is as kind and attractive as she seems online. She is also accomplished, cultured, savvy and brave. Her life has been, and is full of interesting people, places and experiences. I envy her internal freedom. I asked her where this ability to go out and meet life came from. I am not sure I received a direct explanation. I did get an indirect explanation. She was talking about attending Burning Man every year and how freeing was that experience. She spoke of a lack of boundaries and free form creativity. Called to something deep within me, which I squelch at every opportunity. I was taught that that upwelling of limitless thinking was sinful in the extreme. I am not talking about the abandonment of boundaries, that is for emerging teenagers and criminals, I am talking about the embodiment of...hope I guess. No one around me believed hope was a good thing. It was silly and dangerous. Hope was limited to a few privileged people who had the resources to dream. Po people don't dream big.

I think the message of Christianity is to dream big. I think that has always been the message of Christ. Limitless Heaven is offered to earth bound sinners. The mystics understood and understand the message. And some of the Helen's. And maybe someday, some of the Lynn's.

Turns out my funny colored clothes are the poor woman's version of "resort ware." I did not know about resort ware. Apparently you wear it at resorts. Anaheim is not a resort and everyone here seems to be dressed for a military funeral. Black, brown, grey and muddy colors are the order of day. Mark says the way he finds me in the crowds is by looking for my pastel colored jacket.

We are going on a beach tour this afternoon. We are going home tomorrow. I am glad I came but it will take me a while to regain my footing. But maybe it will be new footing.

See you at home. Love Bea

I'm Here

2009-06-10T12:20:00.003-06:00

This will be quick as I am freezing to death in the hotel's computer room. They could hang meat in here.

I have talked to the "famous" Helen. She and I conversed whilst I was sitting outside at Bubba Gumps eating shrimp. Helen says this could have killed me. Taking to her was fun. Way fun. We will make contact Friday for dinner. I can't wait.

I am trying to figure out how to use the bus and Amtrak systems. Not as easy as advertised. We used ART (Anaheim Transport System) last evening. I spit on their system. We sat sitting for a total of two hours waiting for them to pick up and deliver us. I almost froze to death. Where is the darn sunshine? I thought it never rained in southern California.

The trip thru Salt Lake was a nightmare. Poured with rain, road construction out the wazoo and we got lost. Mentor Mary says a trip is not complete unless you get lost in Salt Lake City. We are batting a thousand. Plane trip was fun with the exception of the security check. The snake line took us forty minutes. The revolving door scan deal was a trip. Finding a place to put my shoes back on was exciting. I almost had to sit on some one's knee. Our concourse was outside and our plane was small. WE GOT TO SIT TOGETHER. Mark felt bad and fixed the seats just before we left. Hurrah. We sat behind two little girls. One was terrified and screamed and sobbed for the first fifteen minutes of the trip. The other girl was quiet as the grave until we left the ground whereupon she exclaimed in an awestruck voice "we are in the air." Made me cry. How did we earth bound creatures get so blase as to relax in out plane easy chairs and visit while we are leaving the ground? Is a mystery.

Okay I have to walk to the convention center and meet Mark for lunch. Looks like we will get to have lunch together every day. Yea. I need my fingerless gloves.

I will keep you posted as to my adventures. Knowing you all are out there reading has spurred me on to have some. Take care.

Love Bea.

Comfort Zone

2009-06-05T13:27:00.002-06:00

I guess I am going. I decided today. A little late I know as we leave on Monday. This damn trip has become I place I hope never to re-visit.

Mark and I are speaking again. After almost twenty years of marriage it was a painful procedure for us to confront the vast differences in our priorities. I value security and Mark values adventure. I want to own, Mark wants to rent. I want dog and cats, Mark wants a pet rock. I want a minivan and Mark wants a sports car. I want to camp, Mark wants to stay in hotels. I want to save, Mark is not afraid of debt. I want a computer for work, Mark wants it to play games. I am a planner and Mark wants to fly by the seat of his pants. I am detail oriented and Mark thinks in broad strokes. I am an adult and Mark is a child...with a real bitchy Mommy.

Like most married couples we are fairly opposite in personality. I believe God put us together to rub the rough edges off one another. After the past week we are both much smoother.

I talked much to Mentor Mary about the trip. She acknowledged my fear of going into debt in perilous economic times. She acknowledged my anger at having to choose between the trip and much needed necessities, i.e. glasses and dental work. She acknowledged my frustration at Mark's unwillingness to let go of something he wants. After I had vented for hours she gently asked me, "Honey how much do you value being vulnerable?" Crap, crap, crap. Phooey. She had me.

I value being vulnerable. I just refuse to do it. And that is why I eat. I am a fear based prudent prig. But I don't want to be. I want to be an adventurer too. Mark is a County Prosecutor who wins his cases. He is not irresponsible in his work life. At home he lets me take care of absolutely everything because it is easier to not cross me. I control with an iron fist. Lest in any way I should be vulnerable. He is not a spendthrift and yes we can pay off any debt we incur. Yes he has had lessons to learn here also, but I cannot learn his lessons. I can only learn mine. And my lesson about this f*#^ing trip is to let go of control and be vulnerable.

So I'm going. I will sit by myself on the airplane. I will stay in an off brand hotel. I will wear funny clothes because they fit. I will eat alone. I will spend some money so Mark can see some of the things I have already seen. I will call Helen even if she is way thinner than me. I will have a dad gummed adventure. I will be vulnerable.

Take care and I will be back in a week. Love Bea

Fantods

2009-05-28T10:01:00.002-06:00

As in, I have the fantods. I am anxious and jumpy and irritable. This trip to California is making me nuts. I knew Mark relied on me to make life function but until this trip I did not realize how much. Neither did he. We knew months ago about the trip. I occasionally asked about the arrangements and he assured me all was being taken care of. As we did not have ticket confirmation, room reservations or registration info for the conference I was dubious, and said so. He said I was a control freak and could not relax and let someone else take charge. This is a too true observation so I attempted to forget about it. Yet still something niggled at me.

I do not want to take this trip. I don't want to spend the money and I am fat. I will be fat and broke in the vacation paradise of the tanned and thin. I do not have any summer clothes that fit and I don't want to spend money on more. The clothes I do have are just dumb. Stacy and Clinton would have a hay day with me. Peg legged elastic waist jeans and plaid camp shirts. And big ole sneakers. And a sweater jacket with lawn chairs printed all over it. (I look like some one's grandmother.) And I have to stuff all of this in a suitcase the size of a breadbox. So I am anxious. On Tuesday to calm myself down I began inquiring in earnest about "the plans." You guessed it. Mark had relied on someone else to make all the arrangements. And she didn't. He was not registered for the conference, had no room reservations and no plane tickets.

After many panicked preparations and much money agony we now have very expensive plane seats...in which we cannot even sit together. He is in the front and I am in the back in the middle. As I haven't flown in 17 years and am worried about all the changes, not the least of which is the seat belt fitting, this just pisses me off royal. Instead of flying out of Jackson (close) we have to drive all the way to Salt Lake (far) and stay all night (expensive). Of course the Marriott and Hilton where the conference is being held are full so we are staying three "city blocks" away in some hotel I have never heard of. I has been years but as I remember "city blocks" are much larger than our small town blocks. Mark will have to leave well before 8am and won't arrive back at the hotel until after 5pm, leaving me marooned in there for eight solid hours. We can't even eat together at noon because all the seminars he was planning to attend are jam packed. The only open ones are during the lunch hours. I was going on this trip so we could spend some time together. The conference was presented to me as having a lot of open spaces in which we could sight see. Not. He might as well be at work. I am so mad I could spit. I am not a sit around the pool kind of a gal, if this new place even has a pool. I DO NOT want to spend eight hours in a high rise hotel room with no egress to the outside. I do not have the money to go shopping, or get spa treatments, or do much sight seeing. What the heck am I going to do for five days?

By the by, I can't stop eating. I was down to 193 then came the news about the non-registration and I promptly went back up to 199. I do mean promptly. I have gained five pounds in the past three days. sigh

Why don't I just stay home you ask? Let Mark stew alone in his self induced mess? Because he wants me to go. Really wants me to go. He says he will eat beans when we get home and will wear ragged clothes and ride his bike to work. But please won't I go. It's no fun without me. PHOOEY.

Helen prepare yourself, I'm coming. I will be the nervous plaid grandmother who looks madder than a wet hen. Phooey.

Bea

All's Well...

2009-05-19T15:10:00.006-06:00

On Saturday of our Yurt adventure we got up early and walked through the wetlands again. I had never seen live ducks like Daffy Duck. Completely black little ducks with bright yellow bills and feet. Herds of them. Unfortunately none of them spoke.

It was still raining and I had another massage scheduled at noon. After breakfast, to kill time until the massaging hour, we decided to drive around and see the local country. We headed south toward Utah. I am from farm country and do admire a well tended piece of ground. I was in hog heaven this whole excursion. All the farms were down on the valley floor and the houses overlooked them from the sides of the hills. These were old farms. Big mature trees and lush lawns around hundred year old houses and barns. If you plunked me down on one of those places I could be happy until the end of my days. Along the road we also stopped to see several historical sites. We learned about the Bear River Massacre, the prehistoric emptying of Lake Bonneville through Red Rock Pass and read several markers put up by Mormon families in honor of their homesteading ancestors. While we did all this it rained steadily. By the time we returned to the campgrounds I was sopping wet and frozen. I had a nice soak and then went in to have Mark's massage. I had scheduled one for each of us. He chickened out. Said he was not going to have some strange woman "rubbing" him. Too bad for him.

Now comes the not fun part of the trip. We skipped lunch because it was getting late and we wanted to get to Pocatello for a Wal-Mart run. We were going to eat there. We never did. And still it rained.

I hate Wal-Mart. I think they suck oxygen and joy out of the stores. After I have been in there for awhile I get woozy and mad. I hate myself and everyone in my vicinity. Mark walks behind me and pats my butt like you would do to a horse to urge it forward. This just makes me madder. Every three or four months we go into a big town to go to Wal-Mart. We were past due and out of everything. We spent three and a half hours in there. With no lunch, oxygen or joy. Two carts full of stuff later we finally left. We stuffed the car up to the gills. And then we proceeded to have a huge fight. A real donnybrook. I was hungry and tired and frustrated about spending a fortune on toilet paper and hoses and window shades. Mark was hungry and mad about spending our vacation time buying laundry soap, Swiffer Dusters and cans of garbanzo beans. The fight was about where to eat lunch. We never did eat. After the accusations and hollering were done we drove back to the campground in stony silence....

To a pre-scheduled romantic steak dinner for two in the campground grill to celebrate our anniversary. Ho, ho, ho. We arrived just in the nick of time, silent and wet, to the sweetest dinner anyone has ever prepared for us. They had cordoned off one end of the grill dining room and set up the table. Cloth table covering, napkins and candles. The lights were turned down low and soft music was playing. We were the only people in the dining room. Our table was against the floor to ceiling windows and over looked the hot springs. The springs were steaming because of the rain. The whole world was bathed in twilight fog. Could not have been more romantic. We were served a cocktail while out dinner was being prepared. The setting, the kindness and the alcohol had the intended affect. I started, "I behaved like an ass, again. I am very sorry. I hate Wal-Mart and I know not to skip meals." Mark's turn, "No I am the one to say sorry. I am not a twelve year old boy and I know we needed all that stuff. I was hungry before we even left the campground. Next time we will eat first, and then tackle Wal-Mart." We had another wonderful meal. We took our cheesecake back to the yurt and ate it after our final soak of the day. Then we turned in and had dessert.

I will write about the books next time. Take care. Love Bea

Yurts and More

2009-05-13T09:57:00.002-06:00

It is gorgeous here today. Real birds and the snow birds are arriving in flocks. I am besieged by hummingbirds and motor homes. We live in a tiny rural hamlet and how people can mistake us for the fancy R.V. park ten miles down the road is beyond me. But they do. Yesterday someone from Georgia spent fifteen minutes driving around our four streets looking for the R.V. park. I guess the horses, chickens and pigs in the yards finally persuaded them they were in the wrong place. Brother.

I am frustrated living within our means. I want a new computer and we both need new glasses. The yard needs another load of gravel, we need a new picture window in the living room, and I am longing for another apple tree. But all that costs money, and we spent it on our yurt adventure. And we have to go to California next month. I do not want to spend the money to get and keep us there. This living without credit cards is a pain in the butt. In times past I would have put the computer, our yurt vacation and the California thing on the credit cards and then paid them off...slowly. I would have used cash for the glasses, tree and the home repairs. Not now. We are saving but that money is earmarked for our trip in October to friend Kim's wedding. So at this point I am just...waiting. Phooey.

On Friday of our yurt adventure we went sight seeing in the morning and spent the afternoon soaking and reading. Our first sight was the wetlands around the campgrounds. I know what sand hill cranes look like from a distance. I had never seen a flock of them up close. Wow. They sort of honk and they are tall. When they land they glide in like fighter planes. Their knees bend backwards. Mark thought he had died and gone to heaven. We almost did not leave the campground to see anything else. When I finally tore him away we drove into Pocatello and did the town. We saw Fort Hall, The Bannock County Museum, The Museum of Natural History and the Zoo. We toured the University. We had lunch in an Italian restaurant and visited a couple of book stores. We had a great time. Civilization is wonderful.

We got back to the hot springs about 3pm. It was raining. We put on our suits and dashed up to the hot pools. We soaked for half an hour while it rained on our faces. Heaven. We dashed back to the yurt and changed clothes. I turned on the fire place and made us cups of hot chocolate. We wrapped up in blankets and proceeded to read for the next several hours. About 7:30 we went back to the truck stop and had another wonderful meal. When we got back we soaked again. Bedtime was about 9pm with rain bouncing on the sky light. I wanted to move in forever.

Next time I will write about the books. I read them from cover to cover and learned much. I know the origin of my FEAR.

I hope all of you are having a good week. I am. Love Bea

Yurts To You

2009-05-06T09:23:00.002-06:00

Well I had a splendid time.

First. I found a swim suit that fit at Wal-Mart. It cost $30 and I didn't have to do a thing to it.
Second. The yurt had carpet, a DVD player and mints on the pillows. Mark was disappointed. He was looking forward to the yak dung fire.
Third. I read those books until my eyeballs gave out.
Fourth. I climbed through an underground lava tube and slid down a twelve foot snow covered drop, in the dark.
Fifth. I ate everything in sight and lost a couple of pounds.

We left on Thursday. I was not sure I wanted to go. After working for days to get everything arranged and packed, I was frazzled and frustrated and given two cents I would have chucked the whole darn deal. I especially hated to leave Mollie at the dog jail. Mark calls it the dog spa, but Mollie and I know different. But leave we did. The drive over to Idaho was gorgeous. Mountains and lush green hills and birds of every description. Before going to the hot springs we went in to Pocatello so I could look for a total coverage swimsuit. Penny's and Sears were a bust. I was depressed, angry and knee deep in self loathing when Mark pulled into Wally World. This just made me madder. I knew I would find nothing in there but bikinis. I was wrong. I found a suit in jig time and we were out of there in half an hour. It was a miracle.

The hot springs (Downata Hot Springs) is in Downey Idaho and is about 40 miles south of Pocatello. Very majestic country that levels out into rolling hills. The resort is way off the main road in a small valley. The valley is a wet lands area. The Downata Springs comes out of the side of one of the hills and drains down into this shallow valley. Downata Hot Springs is 100 years old. It looks like a big park. Lots of mature trees and bushes and an acre of glowing green lawn. (Remember it was still winterish when we left. I hadn't seen grass in six months.) The resort consists of the pools, slides, pool house, office/store/grill, cabins, yurts and R.V. and camp sites. They also have tepees in the summer. It's big. We were the only people there on Thursday! Heaven.

Our yurt was plush. The floors are heated by the hot springs. Was cozy warm. The decor is Adirondack cabinish. We had a fridge, microwave, water cooler, sofa, queen size bed, table and a small electric wood burning style stove. The fridge was stocked with food for breakfasts for three days and we received a complimentary "goodie basket." Towels and bedding of course and plush robes for the treck to the hot pools. But no bathroom. The facilities were in a separate yurt about twenty feet from our door. We shared the two bathroom suites with the other three yurts. Mark hated this. The bathrooms were kept locked and the key was hooked to a long stick that was hung by the door in each yurt. This stick was the source of great trouble for us. I locked it inside the bathroom twice and dropped it in the commode once. One of us always had it when the other one needed it. Remembering Edina, Mark christened it the "talking stick" and kept offering to buy it. Was a pain.

We arrived at 6pm. I had a massage at 6:30 pm. Turned out the massage therapist had been stood up by someone and was looking for a replacement. I volunteered. The pool house had a sauna, two massage rooms and a "tranquility room." I have no idea what went on in there. Boy did I need that massage. She kept asking me, "Have you had a neck injury?" After the massage we soaked for half an hour in the little pool and watched the sun set through the trees. Then...we went to look for supper.

Turns out the grill was closed and the nearest restaurant was 30 miles away. "But you could eat at the truck stop at the end of the road." So we did. I had hamburger/tomato/macaroni soup and half and egg sandwich. I washed this down with a glass of milk and had rhubarb crumble and ice cream for dessert. I haven't had a meal like this since I was fourteen. Mark had fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans and bacon, and fried bread. He had lemon meringue pie for dessert. We drove back to the yurt and fell senseless into bed. The last thing I remember was watching the fire in the little stove and being so grateful to be alive.

Friday was yet to come. Love Bea

Fatherless Butterflys

2009-04-24T11:33:00.006-06:00

Warning this is longish as I am combining two posts.
First:

I just read Vickie's post about "real bodies." She said she always felt as though she were encased in a fat suit and wanted to unzip it and get out. Not me brother (sister). I feel protected by my fat. It is pound for pound who I am. It is my cocoon. I am not yet ready to be a butterfly.

I remember being thin. What a lot of hassle.

With a host of other sexually abused girls, I learned to relate to men through sex. I didn't know there was any other way to "know" a man. So I began having sex early and often. Until I got fat. Then they left me alone. I was finally at peace in my own skin. No one bugged me. I was invisible. But who wants to be an invisible fat 20 year old? I lost weight, and took up where I left off. What a lot of crap I went through in the next ten years. Then I got fat again. Safety in scale numbers.

When you are thin you are normal and are not cut any slack. You have to compete with your peers and be judged by them. I always felt like I would/could never ever measure up in any way to my normal sisters. If you are fat you are frequently given a pass in life's races. It is assumed at the outset you will be incapable of completing the task, so you are not required to try. I loved this. I had an excuse for not competing, and in all likelihood, failing. More safety in numbers.

After I lost 70 pounds I found myself constantly telling people about it. It seems like I was instructing/encouraging them to relate to me as my former 250 pound self rather than this unknown 180 pound person. While 180 pounds seems huge to many people, to me it seemed to be on the verge of normal. I was no longer obese. I was just plain ole fat. So were and are a lot of other middle aged women. I had not been normal for thirty years. I was a stranger in a strange land.

I seem to have stabilized at 198 pounds. I go up if I eat real stupid, and down if I drink a lot of tea, but in a short time return to the 198 mark. I hate to say it, but I am psychologically comfortable here. I am obese again, but without much effort I am staying below the dreaded 200 pounds. I am back to shopping in the fat ladies' section. I wear elastic waisted peg leg jeans and denim jumpers. I feel like me. I wish I didn't.

I want to feel like I am encased in a fat suit. Trapped in an alien body. I want to walk through the world and not need/want my layer of protection. But until I get the fear sorted out I think I will be at home in my fat.

Cheers, Bea.

Second Post:

We are going yurting this weekend at a hot springs. Mark is looking forward to mare's milk and a yak dung fire. Ha Ha I am not looking forward to the damn bathing suit. I dug out my new last year's suit. It is a beautiful suit. It still fits, sort of. I have to wear a bra under it because those soft cup things hold up nothing. Well, what with the too smallish suit, the bra that shows, and my white vieny blobby body, our much anticipated vacationette was turning into a nightmare. Decision time.

Since I can't change my bod before we leave, I have decided to change my mind. I am going to have a good time, and how I look is how I look. I know I will be judged, but I guess as long as they don't start throwing stuff at me, I will survive. I am not going to be made to stay at home so as not to offend anyone with my size. If they don't like the way I look, they can look else where. And I bought a really BIG towel.

Now, about my unworthiness. I have had an epifanny. (That's for you Kim) I have gone on ad nauseaum about the lousy mothering I received as a kid and young woman. Hereafter I am going to give those women a break. I think a huge part of my problem is not having had a father. Any kind of a father, anywhere. None of the women who raised me had men actively on the scene. Yes there were the perverts around the edges, but no men who routinely participated in my upbringing in a healthy way. I didn't think this mattered. "A woman (and children) without a man is like a fish without a bicycle."

In the past week through a series of very strange events I have come to believe the above statement is (excuse the language) HORSESHIT. Many of my primal fears come from existing in a world devoid of responsible men. Having no father has also made it almost impossible for me to relate to God as Father. But things are a'changin. Part of our long weekend will find me sitting in front of the yak dung fire reading several books I received out of the blue about fatherless daughters. I am so looking forward to this trip that the darn bathing suit issue has been downgraded to a minor hassle instead of the feature event.

I will be letting you know what I learn. Also how mare's milk tastes. Take care. Love Bea

Beggars Can't Be Choosers

2009-04-22T09:38:00.006-06:00

My family motto.

This statement beats in my blood. And has for generations. It sucks the life right out of me. It makes me give in and give up and whine. And I am strong and tough. Very tough. Like a rock. I will hunker down and "take it" and I will survive. I will eke out some little joy in life and I will survive. But I will ultimately remain one of life's "havenots."

Phooey.

No one talks about slave mentality anymore because it is hard to couch it in politically correct phrases. But slave I was and slave I remain. My body may be free now but I was owned for many years body and soul. My soul still remains in bondage.

Vickie and Cindy both recently talked about empowerment. I read their free soul posts, bowed my head, and cried. I may never have their sense of empowerment.

How do you break chains of unworthiness? My sense of needing to be "beholden" to everyone started in the womb. I am "just damn lucky" Mom could not abort me. I am "just damn lucky" relatives partially cared for me as an infant. I am "just damn lucky" I was smart enough to take care of both of us when I was a toddler. I am "just damn lucky" relatives and foster homes fed and clothed me as a child. I am "just damn lucky" I was adopted by someone when I was a teenager. I am "just damn lucky" I got to go to nursing school." I am "just damn lucky" I could support myself and did not cave to sex, drugs and rock and roll as a young woman. I am "just damn lucky" my suicide attempts did not work in my thirties. I am damn lucky Mark wanted to marry me. I was no prize. I am damn lucky Mentor Mary found me in my forties and helped me. I am "just damn lucky" to not have to go out every day to support myself. I am "just damn lucky" to have lost some weight. I do not feel entitled to any of my blessings.

This is a stupid way for anyone to live. How does one get a sense of entitlement/empowerment? The assurance that "I have a right to an abundant life?" I do not want a life without problems, I want a life in which I feel empowered to overcome problems and thrive. I want to feel like I deserve a good life. I am sick of going through life on my knees grateful for every sop God and man are willing to toss my way.

Phooey. Bea

The Flu

2009-04-16T15:04:00.002-06:00

Do not sample twelve different kinds of chili in an hour. Especially if you have also been attempting a new vegetarianish lifestyle. Also do not moan when you unfold the local paper and see yourself on the front page eating said chili. Do not notice the wide angle of the shot that shows you in heavy jeans, a sweatshirt, a parka, gloves and an apron, with a spoon in your mouth. Do not go out for Easter dinner after cooking and judging a chili cook off the day before...after eating a week of vegetarian meals. Do not eat giant bowls of hot curried fruit compote and broccoli cauliflower au gratin in an effort not to eat the ham at said Easter dinner. Do not go home after dinner and blow off (no pun intended) a whole host of obvious symptoms because you believe you are just reacting to a change in diet.

Passing out should have been my first clue that I was sick. But no, I convinced Mark I must just be hypotensive???? Okay...chills and chattering teeth were sort of an odd reaction to more beans than I could tolerate, but hey, who knows, right? Man was I hot. "This hormone patch must be defective" I thought. Fatigue. "Lazy slob, get up and get the laundry done and the living room cleaned." When I did not make it to the bathroom in time I finally recognized I might be sick. This process took four days.

I have been living on tea and toast and Imodium for the past 48 hours. I feel better today, but am not willing to venture far from the facilities. I do have a moral for this stupid story.

I am so out of touch with my body I can't even tell when I am ill. I live in and with my head, and drag my poor body around like so much inconvenient baggage. I eat with my mind. My body did not want that chili at the cook off. I had to force it down while simultaneously telling myself how much I was enjoying it. My body did not want Easter dinner but I convinced it it did. I even fought off nausea to eat pie and ice cream for dessert! I fixed three meals on Monday and ate everyone of them because I knew I loved to eat. My body had to literally lose control before my mind would do the same. Only then would I recognize that my body did not want any more food. It was sick. My mind is dumb as a post sometimes.

I had a banana for breakfast and a cup of soup for lunch. Maybe I will eat supper, maybe not. My body is not hungry. My mind would like a pint of ice cream and a donut, with a latte chaser. I am ignoring it.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

Going It Alone

2009-04-09T10:25:00.002-06:00

Thank you all for the suggestions. I printed them off so when it is 7pm and I can't think of anything to do other than watch t.v. I have a referral sheet.

Suggestion, "write more." (Thanks Cindy.) What a thought. I started this blog so I would...write more. Have I done that? Nope. I want to get a computer of my own. Husband has this one set up to his tastes and barricaded by his junk. I have to climb over stuff to get to his chair and then clear his stuff off his keyboard. I have not wanted to spend the money to get a computer for just me. This is not his work computer. He uses it to play games and listen to Rush most evenings. Mark makes the money so I figure he should get to spend the lion's share of our surplus on fun stuff for himself. I made up this rule, not him. And then I resent him for taking full advantage of the rule. Foolish me.

I went to Jackson yesterday with a new friend. She also has weight issues. We talked about fat for hours. We went to Coldwater Creek to shop. I went into the same dressing room in which I had my "freak out" two years ago. I am now twenty pounds heavier than I was then. I got a bunch of XL's and tried them on. Some fit, most did not. I then went and got the 1X's. They fit. It was seriously painful but I forced myself to look at my bod objectively. I look like a 52 year old woman who weighs 198 lbs. Could be better, could be worse. I found some nice clothes. I didn't buy any of them. Fatter or thinner, I need to figure out my style before I purchase any more clothes. Odd thing, there was a woman in the changing room next to me who had just lost 60 pounds. She had half the store stock and two clerks in that room with her. She could not figure out what looked good on the new figure. It was deja vu all over again. She did not know who she was without the pounds. I thought about trying to help her but there was no room for me in the crowd.

All this activity plus the Star Jones interview on Oprah has set me to thinking. WE need each other. Getting fatter or thinner we need each others' wisdom and support. Who else but someone with a similar experience can sympathize with the newly thin woman who is depressed because she has literally lost half of herself. And the familiar half at that. Society assumes weight loss is all gravy. ( I could not resist the pun.) We know different. Who else but someone who has been there can bring you more 1X's when you thought you were still wearing XL's and laugh, or at least grimace, with you. Who else but someone who has been there can encourage you to get a cup of the vegetable soup rather than a vat, and half of a pesto sandwich rather than a cheeseburger to go with it. You guessed it, only someone who is also considering half a cheesecake for luncheon. We need each other.

In this spirit my new friend and I discussed ways we could support the women we know who have compulsive eating issues. There is not much help here for hardcore eaters. There is plenty of help out there for those who can save themselves. Some of us, and you know who you are, can't. I am looking into setting up an OA group at our church. AA already meets there. I have made an appointment with the pastor and am looking online for resources. I can no longer struggle with this alone.

Yesterday for supper I et raw veggies, a bowl of vegetarian chili and a beanie brownie, Lord have mercy. By the by, my new friend was surprised to hear that I had a weight problem. She said she had never thought of me as fat!!!!

Take care of yourselves, love Bea.

P.s. Congratulations Nory Roth on 30 pounds gone!!!!

Beanies

2009-04-06T18:40:00.002-06:00

I think I need a Glade air freshener clipped to my belt.... This new way of eating is playing havoc with my digestive system. I am mainlining Beano. Mark has given up on the diet and is bringing fried chicken home from the grocery store. Maybe I need to slow the process down a little.

I found a new recipe for brownies. First you drain, rinse and puree a can of black beans, then you add it to your favorite boxed brownie recipe in place of eggs, water, etc. and then you bake as directed. Worked like a charm. I found a whole wheat dark chocolate brand and just added the beans and baked. Then I ate six of them. Do not try this at home. Go out to a park, a big park.

I am going to stop our satellite t.v., and I am scared to death. I am blogging right now so as not to watch the television. My whole life is lived to the accompaniment of the tube. I want to be a woman who eats healthy and who does not watch television. What do people do who do not watch television in the evening? I already read. I can read and do anything. I can even read and drive. I do not recommend this. So reading is not the answer. I have no desire to indulge in the housewifely arts (knitting, sewing, embroidering) and I don't scrapbook. I do not want to clean closets at 7pm even if they do need it. I guess I could take up painting. I have no hobbies. What a sad commentary on a life. I work and read and watch t.v.. Phooey. What do you all do instead of watch the television?

More on fun with food. Boca burgers are okay but full of salt. Sassafras tea is yummy hot or cold. Cheese is full of calories. And so are nuts. This way of eating is not as fool proof as I thought. But is isn't boring.

Take care. Love and burps, Bea

Star Jones

2009-04-02T13:48:00.003-06:00

It has been snowing for ten days off and on. I have quit watching the weather. None of the locals pay any attention to it. After two and half years I know why. There is only so much you can know about snow. Either it is snowing or it isn't. Phooey.

Did anyone else watch Star Jones on Oprah? Wow what an interview. This interview strengthened my desire to find out who I am without my fat enclosure. The thin Star who was on Oprah was an entirely different woman from the fat Star of the View. Quieter. Calmer. Less arrogant. No longer the life of the party. Nicer.

In our country fat impinges on our basic personality structures. Who can daily live with prejudice and not be changed by it. We adapt to the hatred by shutting down some parts of our personalities and overplaying other parts. It is hard to just be ourselves. Frequently the the personality adaptations are unconscious. We don't even know who we might be without our cocoon. This happened to me. I am convinced part of my regain is due to an incident in the dressing room of Coldwater Creek.

I went in to buy a skirt two years ago. I was by myself. Husband was shopping on his own and I was supposed to meet up with him in half an hour. I was rushed. I grabbed some denim skirts and some black skirts. Gathered skirts on an elastic band. Nothing special in the lot. I was jumping in and out of them and not liking anything when a sale's clerk offered to help me. This should be a scream I thought and I said yes to get her to leave me alone. She arrived with an armful of fluted knee length skirts with waist bands, and in sizes and colors I did not wear. I wear only long dark colored elastic waist skirts. I tried on the brown herringbone. I had no hips. My belly looked flatter and my short stubby legs looked longer and thinner. "What you need is a turtleneck and a vest to go with that" said the clerk and off she rushed. I put on the camel colored cashmere turtleneck and the short little tapestry vest. "All you need now are some brown knee high boots and you're set she said." I felt the ground give way beneath me. Who was this stylish matron with the ash blond bob and the bemused expression? I could not move. I did not even know how to make this creature walk. I have never felt so at a loss in my life. I took the clothes off and ran from the dressing room. When I met up with my husband we went out to lunch and I had pasta and cheesecake. I've been overeating ever since.

I know how to navigate as a fat person. I am totally lost at sea as a thinner woman. Star talked about how slow was the learning process to be a normal sized person after being fat her whole life. She said she sometimes still feels like a three hundred pound woman. She said she lost a whole 'nother person. The person she knew. She was then left with this stranger in her skin who had to function in the world as though nothing much had happened. Like living with amnesia I thought. Much food for thought in this story. I hope Oprah has her on again.

Mark calls the new diet my "rabbit food revenge." We had pumpkin soup and cream cheese, walnut and pimento sandwiches for lunch. The soup was my own creation. Pumpkin, soy milk, onions, garlic, cinnamon, curry, molasses and applesauce. Was creamy and good. I mixed walnuts, curry, and pimentos in the low fat cream cheese and served it on slices of Ezekiel bread spread with avocado and topped with cucumber slices and spinach leaves. Mark said he hates curry. sigh

I am going to solider on. Tomorrow it will be mushroom barley soup and veggy laden Swiss cheese sand. I am looking forward to it. Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

This Time

2009-03-25T14:26:00.002-06:00

Markovian Theory: Nude Vegetarianism
Mark loves meat. Any meat. Three times per day. Just the mention of a meal based around vegetables makes him crazy. And...I am thinking about radically switching the way we eat. In trying to gently break the potential change to him I mentioned I had ordered the book, "The New Vegetarian." I was in the laundry room and was sort of hollering this information to him in the kitchen. A couple of minutes after my announcement he came roaring around the corner with a big smile on his face. "That will be great," he enthused, "when do we start?" I was taken aback and said I had to get the book first. "Can't be soon enough for me," he said. I was dumbfounded. "You mean you won't mind giving up meat three times a day," I asked? "Not with those rewards," he responded with a wink. "What rewards," I enquired, thinking about weight loss and increased energy? "You in the buff with a bowl of beans. I could even learn to like broccoli." ...sigh

This time I am going to eat more fruit, vegetables, flour and dairy. I have been terrified of carbs. I was sure they were going to send my blood sugar soaring and guarantee fat storage. Mebbe so. I don't know yet. But I do know I am sick and tired of a mainly low carb lifestyle. And I am eating carbs. Baaaad carbs. If I am going to eat them anyway why not try a diet composed of healthy ones? I will keep you posted how this all works out. But, the point of this post isn't about our new diet life style. It's about the fact that I believed I shouldn't even attempt a new lifestyle.

I believed that because I had lost weight on my low carbish food plan I should continue to use that plan. But my weight loss STOPPED two years ago and I have been slowly gaining ever since. For one whole day I was down to 179, and then the engine reversed directions. A couple of weeks ago I weighed 202. As y'all know I have struggled to stay on course with my same food plan but my heart has not been in it since we moved up here. I know it is a great food plan and that some people stick with it for life. But I am not going to be one of those people. And I have felt like a failure. Again.

If this is such a great plan, why can't I stick with it? Because it is not new and fun anymore. I know it by heart. I like new and interesting stuff and I am bored to tears with my food. And I believe this to be bad. Very bad. I am a food flibbertigibbet. I was brought up to believe that if something is successful only an irresponsible idiot attempts to change it. Who wants to be an irresponsible idiot?

I also am convinced about the science behind increased dietary protein and reduced carbs. The more protein you eat the more fat you burn. Carbs cause increased insulin output and fat storage. End of story. Who but an idiot would willingly go against science?

As God is my witness, "I am that idiot," to paraphrase Gomez Adams.

I have a renewed sense of adventure about trying a lacto-ovo vegetarian diet. Will be new and fun, and healthy, I hope. If it doesn't work at least I will have had a good time experimenting.

To reiterate my point, if it ain't working stop 'it' and try something new. It is okay to be a food flibbertigibbet. While you are at it, be a flibbertigibbet in other areas too. Nude vegetarianism anyone?

Take care, Bea.

Me vs. Them

2009-03-20T14:32:00.004-06:00

I am struggling with priorities. I don't want to do nuthin for nobody. And I am ashamed of this.

Vickie had a great post about "Focus and Clarity" on 3-18-09 that confused the heck out of me. She then followed this up with a discussion on 3-19 about "priorities." Still no light for me. I am a master at prioritizing everything that does not have to do with emotions. I don't always adhere to my priorities, but I am in no doubt about them except when I am forced to choose between something I want and something "they" want. I do usually manage to follow my own desires by (let's get real) lying and or avoidance. Then I feel massively guilty for not wanting to help, for not helping and for being dishonest.

Why don't I want to help? Because I feel taken advantage of. Like I have a finite amount of energy and when I expend it on "you" then I have less for me. Sucked dry and spat out. This is not the loving world view I believe in. I want to want to help. I want to be compassionate. I want to love as I have been loved.

Why don't I help? I do alot of the time. But I resent it and I gripe about it. I have stuff of my own I want to get done and I can't do it if I am out and about helping "you." I feel like I never can get my own stuff done at my own pace. I need to hurry up and get it finished so that I can be available when "you" need me. I resent this and so procrastinate about tackling my projects. Then I go out to help and hate it because my own house needs cleaning and I am spending time helping you clean "yours."

Why am I dishonest? Because if I said, "Don't bug me until I want contact," I would have no relationships at all. Most people like much more contact than do I. I don't know if I have intimacy problems or I am just a loner by nature. I am happy seeing husband and pets daily, people at church once a week and most friends and relatives quarterly. I am also very serious. I read and ruminate about the meaning of life. Long conversations about inconsequentials just bore the heck out of me. I do like to lunch and gossip. I used to love to go out and dance and drink with friends on Friday nights. I like to shop. Has just dawned on me that in the past few years I have been trying to have relationships with people with whom I have little in common. The people I want to have frequent contact with are the people I s-l-o-w-l-y befriend who share my interests. These friendships are harder to come by now that I am no longer employed.

Okay that was all very enlightening. What I learned.
1. I do not want to expend gobs of my time on superficial (for me) acquaintances.
a. I am not obligated to care about everyone as deeply as they might seem to care about me.
2. I am not someones entertainment when they are bored.
a. I do not have to stop vacuuming and spend time talking to someone every time they are caught in a traffic jam with six kids in the car.
3. I need to deliberately seek out and spend time with those people with whom I think I might have have much in common.
4. I do not need to give bunches to time to people who are not at all interested in me. See #2
5. My husband is very considerate.
6. I am not always a dumping ground for unpleasant emotions. I can say, "Okay that's enough of that, let's talk about something more cheerful."
7. These insights and my consequent actions are going to make some people angry. I need to be prepared for the anger and not cave in.

Thanks Dr. Freuds, this has been a valuable session. Take care of yourselves. Bea

Sleep Walking In Heaven

2009-03-17T14:42:00.003-06:00

I think I may be a new woman. I look the same but I sure don't feel the same. This transformation could be due to a few things.
1. Estrogen
2. Walking
3. God

About that estrogen. Damn it's good to sleep all night. No more wandering around the house eating carbs the whole live long night. No more wandering around the house all day eating carbs because I was up wandering around all night. No more night sweats. I can sleep in one nightgown per night. No more hot flashes. Husband says this is the first time all winter his feet have warmed up. (I kept the heat at 67 degrees.) My skin looks younger. I have hope again.

About that walking. We started walking outside in the dead dark mornings a couple of weeks ago. We walk for two miles. The dog runs for six. I had forgotten how much I love to walk out of doors. I have been walking on the treadmill intermittently all winter. I hate it. But outside my heart sings with each gasping breath. (I'm way out of shape.) I have walking accoutrements for all seasons except deep winter. This oversight always puts me indoors for three or four months. Not so next year. We are getting snowshoes and poles with our tax return money. Vive la stomping. I have hope again.

About that God. I believe in generational curses. "Sins of the fathers" is another way of phrasing it. Junk passed on through the generations because no one ever draws a line in sand and says, "With God's help this stops here." The other morning I prayed a prayer with Joyce Meyer about being delivered from generational curses. I am claiming the promise of that prayer. God is delivering me from the sins of my fore-parents. I do not need to go about burdened down with the results of my family's sins. As I will allow God is willing to lift this load off of me. I am praying for discernment in how to go about shrugging off the weight. I have hope.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

Fat Head

2009-03-12T09:06:00.002-06:00

I am a big thinker. I analyze everything. I spend much time thinking about fat. Too much time. I am obsessed with it. My whole life is overlaid with fat thoughts. Is this healthy? ...I think not.

Almost my every movement is encompassed by how fat I am. Showering and dressing are the worst times but I can also make a fat fest out of pooper scooping. For instance, it is cold here this a.m., 10 degrees. So of course I had to put on all my winter gear before I could go out to dig for dog poop. I could not get one of my boots zipped. In zero seconds I decided the reason the boot would not zip was because I had gained weight in my ankles. And then I felt bad. Real bad. Like what is the point of living bad. All this immediate angst over a stuck zipper. My point is, I engage in this sort of thinking continuously. No wonder not even massive doses of estrogen can cheer me up. Who could be cheery being told once a minute they are a fat cow? I have to stop it.

Why am I doing this? Punishment. Self punishment negates the fat. Don't ask me why this works, it just does. Maybe I also think if I make myself miserable enough it will motivate me to lose weight. Hasn't worked yet. Alrighty then, what is my plan of action?

I can choose what I think. I have encouraged the "fat toad" thoughts for so long they now come unbidden. But...I don't have to indulge them once they arise. I can stop the thought in its tracks and think about something else. For instance, after putting on my excrement excavating outfit I glanced in the mirror. I have a close fitting pink knit cap with ear flaps. "I look like a fat Tibetan monk" I thought. For a change I recognized the nastiness of the remark, and, decided to do something about it. I looked myself straight in the eye and said, "That remark was unjustified and mean. Please forgive me." "Okay" I said "but don't do it again."

I foresee I may be apologizing to myself a million times a day for a while. That's okay. I deserve it. I have to atone for forty years of insults. I am not ignoring the problem of my overeating. But, calling myself creative awful names has never motivated me to lose one ounce and has in fact had just the opposite effect. "Lardo toado" just discourages me.

I have a visceral resistance to looking anything more than just clean when I am fatter. I almost cannot force myself to put on makeup and nice earrings if I am not thinner. "Lardo toado" and this reaction are part and parcel of the same thing I now see. I do not deserve to be continually insulted and I do not deserve to be made to look and feel like a frump. I have a right to be treated decently and I have a right to look and feel like a "Girl" if I so choose. So there Punishing Self.

I think I have had a break through. (A deer just ran down the road. It was being chased by a flock of pigeons.) I am grateful.

Is this self care? I think so. Love Bea

P.S. Estrogen is working. No hot flashes, no night sweats, no crying jags, better skin and sleeping all night. The whole patch was too much estrogen, so being no respecter of medicine, I cut the darn thing in half. Works like a charm.

AFGZ

2009-03-02T12:07:00.003-07:00

Like many of you I lost the weight because I read Fances Kuffel's book "Passing for Thin." I felt an immediate searing connection to her story. I remember beginning to read the book the moment I paid for it. I read it all the way home from Casper (100 miles). I usually don't read in the car because it makes me sick. But I read non-stop until I devoured the whole thing. This unknown woman had written my life. I had just begun to try to use Kay Sheppard's food plan. I was only so-so successful. Frances' book forced me to acknowledge my life had become powerless around food. She gave me the motivation to take control of my eating. I too longed to be a Girl. I began to lose weight.

So...when she started blogging, I naturally followed her into cyberspace. Here I met more women who shared my fat fate. What a treat. Smart and sassy and mad as Hell. Angry Fat Girlz was just what I needed to remain motivated. I learned about diet and exercise and Spanx and writing and cooking and shoes and boyfriends and jobs and, along the way, I also learned about personal power. I lost more weight. How much more can you ask of a blog? For two years it was a match made in Heaven. But...even good things have to change.

Somewhere in the past year the posts began to, "flag" is the only word I can come up with. The momentum for Our cause was slowing. The importance of other causes i.e., life, had begun to overshadow the necessity of ruminating about fat and weight loss. The euphoria of weight loss was over and the drudgery of maintenance had set in.

I knew the blog was dying but kept hoping maybe there could be a miraculous recovery. But not. I am in mourning. I will miss the gathering together of my friends under one cyber roof even though I know where you all live individually. I am sad our journey together had ended. It has been quite a trip. Thank you, all.

I will still be visiting your houses from time to time to just keep in touch. Until then,

Take care. Love Bea.

Mol Dogs

2009-02-26T08:09:00.005-07:00

I am not sure why we started calling her that, is just fine. When we went for our early A.M. walk she was a splendid dog. She heeled on the leash while we were tiptoeing over the ice and ran like a mad dog when we hit dry ground. We now walk her without a leash most times. I thought she would run off but she stays fairly close. She waits for us when we yell wait. She is a ham. She swims through the deep powder snow or skids across the top of the crusted snow. She sank through the crust the other day and was marooned with just her head sticking out. Mark had to go rescue her. I thought I was going to lose both of them. Walking without her now would be boring.

I have learned to be a pack leader. For someone terrified of dogs this is quite something. I know all the dogs in the neighborhood. Mollie does not get to run free so all the "kids" come over to our yard to play. I am not kidding. Yesterday I had five of them lined up at the gate waiting to get in. They run around and play tug toy while I shovel snow. When I have had enough I shoo them out. I can hardly believe it is me ordering all these dogs around. I am teaching them to sit in a row and wait for their treats. While all the people who own these lovely dogs are at work, their dogs run free. It makes me worried for them. But they love it.

Mollie can sit, stay, walk on a leash, put her toys in a basket, and no longer jumps on people. She was always house trained and she stays off the furniture. I can leave her at home for a couple of hours and she voluntarily stays in her crate and doesn't bother anything. I think the cats have a lot to do with that. She obeys them. They don't like her walking around the house if we are not home...so she stays in her crate.

I have sort of figured out how to curb her leash aggression. I turn her around so we don't meet the other dog face to face. Or if the other dog looks friendly I let her off the leash. She only gets nervous and aggressive when meeting other dogs if she is on a leash. We both need more practise at this. I am glad we live in an unincorporated hamlet where we don't meet many other leashed dogs.

I am plum nuts about this dog. I think all the bad behaviour at the beginning just made me more determined to make something of her. I knew she had the potential to be a great friend. She is currently curled up at my feet. I'd be lost without her. Amen.

Take care of yourselves. Bea

P.S. This estrogen is driving me nuts. I look like two dirigibles have landed on my chest. But...no more hot flashes and I SLEEP at night. The trade off may be worth it. Supposed to snow 3-6 inches again today. sigh

Not There Yet

2009-02-18T15:37:00.003-07:00

Okay my chest swelled up and I am five pounds heavier. My skin looks better and I am not having hot flashes during the day. I still wake up at o'dark hundred every night. I am now only suicidal when it snows. (This is normal for here.) Is this success?

Now for something completely different. I hate, hate, hate to cook. Is a problem as I want to eat non-processed stuff. In response to Annimals' questions I reviewed my cooking history. Very interesting.

In doing my culinary retrospection I was shocked to discover my horrible experiences with cooking.

1. At four I did all the shopping and cooking for my mother and I. I would stand on a stool at the counter and she would direct me from the bedroom how to stir up pancakes and cook them in a frying pan. I also fried hunks of bologna. That's what we ate most of the time.

2. At six in the foster home I peeled potatoes for thirteen people every evening. Also carrots, turnips and beets. My first grade teacher thought I had some sort of disease after one of the beet nights. Here also began my dish washing odyssey.

3. At eleven I moved back in with my mother and took over cooking again. She was much better by now and helped me, but getting meals on the table was my responsibility.

4. At thirteen I began cooking supper once a week for the 25 old people in the nursing home. My adopted mother cooked the other nights. I made pancakes and eggs mostly. Sometimes I branched out with macaroni and cheese and vegetables. My first paid job was washing dishes in the nursing home. I started at twelve and finally graduated at fifteen when I became a nurses aid.

5. My adopted mother could cook like a dream, and she hated it. She was perpetually exhausted and cooking made her back hurt. But she cooked anyway. We did not eat our meals at the house, we ate at the nursing home.

6. During nursing school and after I mostly ate out or ate t.v. dinners or sandwiches. That is twenty-some years of junk food.

7. When I married at 32 I began cooking three meals a day. We have not been "in the funds" for a good portion of our married life so we have mostly eaten at home. Mark cannot taste much of anything so elaborate meals do not matter to him.

8. The only time I now go "all out" in the kitchen is when we are going to have company. As we usually have big gatherings I am tired and stressed out before, during and after these dreadful cooking marathons.

Is it any wonder I can't stand to cook. I am glad to have learned why I detest cooking but...I don't have any idea how to fix the problem. This cooking hangup is one of the main reasons I am fat, so I would really like to learn to appreciate cooking. Any ideas?

Bon Appetite, Bea

All Patched Up

2009-02-11T11:10:00.002-07:00

Okay, I went to the doctor on Friday. Was a hassle just getting there. We had to wait an hour while they dynamited avalanches in the canyon before we could even leave. Then it snowed the whole darn way. Mark, bless his little heart, took the day off and drove me over. He said he had a "vested interest" in this doctor's appointment. Ya think he is tired of me yelling at him? Anyway we arrived intact and on time.

I was a nervous wreck. I have issues about anyone peering at my private parts except my husband. AND I have major issues with health care in general and in particular. I had a list of demands for the doctor so as not to be fobbed off with the usual medical jargon and procedures. I was determined to understand and agree with everything done to me before I acquiesced to a "treatment plan." In my anxiety I still think I may have been semi-fobbed. But, over all, I believe I got what needed.

For fobby starters, She, physician does not prescribe compounding pharmacy made bio-identical hormones. She does not do blood tests to ascertain current hormone levels. She does not prescribe hormones based on blood tests. She does not prescribe thyroid meds with both T4 and T3 components. So I got none of that.

For semi-happy enders, She did the most thorough intake interview I've ever experienced. I had an opportunity to relay all my symptoms and have them explained to me. She did a gentle pelvic exam. She addressed each of my requests and explained her rationale for not using a damn one of them. The exam room was warm and the gown fit. Oh, they did not weigh me. The nurse told me they had decided it was a waste of valuable time as almost every woman could tell you what she weighed down to the ounce!

I was prescribed a low dose non-synthetic transdermal estradiol (estrogen) patch. It is the lowest dose possible. I change it weekly. I was not prescribed progesterone as I have had a hyster and "do not not need it to protect my uterus." The office visit was covered by my insurance and so was the patch. The patch cost me out of pocket $11 for three weeks.

I am not anxious or unhappy about my "treatment plan" but I think it could be better.

I believe the blood tests would have given a clear picture of where I am hormone wise and I would not have to use the trial and error method to determine the correct estrogen dosage. At present I use the patch for three weeks and if I am still having hot flashes and night sweats the dosage is increased in small increments until my symptoms abate. This is the usual and accepted medical model of treatment and one I am very familiar with. But...wouldn't it have been lovely to get an individualized dose immediately.

I think I may need some progesterone. The blood tests would have told me this. In the mean time I will study up on it, and wait to see if the estrogen alone does the trick.

I would have liked to have had a more specific thyroid blood test. I pushed for this and was told that my insurance would not pay for it as She (the physician) did not believe it was needed. Not a very subtle coercion.

So, that is my story. As of today I do not think I have noticed any changes from the patch. Maybe a few less hot flashes. She told me I might have to wait the full three weeks before noticing any changes. I told Mark this and he looked crestfallen. Come to find out the only symptom he really wants to go away is my lack of libido!

Markovian theory:
1. Every time you walk past your wife rub that estrogen patch on her bottom real hard. It might be heat activated.
2. If one patch is good, five would work much faster. Gluing them to the bottom of her feet while she is sleeping will guarantee they will not be noticed as quickly.
3. Do not inquire on the hour "Are we there yet?" It just makes her mad.

Sigh, Love Bea

Masks 2

2009-02-04T10:31:00.004-07:00

I just called Mark at work and yelled at him for losing the remote to his t.v.. Have I lost my mind? You betcha. I am longing for Friday and my Dr's. appointment to get here. Hi Nory.

Vickie I read the chemical post. (see previous comments) I believe whole foods are the healthy way to go. I have not been able to commit myself to the work it takes to eat this way. I want fake food because I feel lousy and it is easier to eat the stuff with chemicals in it than to shop and wash and chop and cook the real stuff. But...I want to be less fake in all areas of my life. Read on.

I am trying to take off my masks. It is scaring me spitless. I teach the adult Sunday School class at our church. I try to keep to the middle of the road with everything I teach so as not to offend anyone. Damn boring, for me and for them. This past Sunday I went off lesson and brought up a subject that I had questions about. We had a lively, to say the least, discussion. I revealed my true thinking about the subject. Was fairly well received...and I have been a mess ever since.

I hate letting my "real self" show. She is sooooo vulnerable on all levels. I let the false self take the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and retreat to my real self to rest/hide. Only a couple of people get see to the real me. I am fakish with everyone else. Interestingly enough it is the real self who over eats. Lately it is taking more and more food to insulate the real self from the trials of the false self. I am getting tired and sick from living my false internal life. So, on Sunday I decided to let what I thought were parts of the real me show through. And that felt fake too. Poop.

Have I lived to please for so long that I can't even recognize who and what is the essential me? Am I incapable of either an unanalyzed action or a self recriminating reaction? Mebbe. Hard to reveal your real self to others when she is a semi unknown entity. I think the real self eats to pad out bad stuff but also to shore up who she is. She is weak. What I found out during Sunday's escapade is that I need to build up my real self's muscles. When you have been so agreeable for so long you develop a really tough "nice shell." I am not yet strong enough to break the shell of my false nice persona. How to get stronger? First, I have to exercise my "No." Then I need to spend time with my real self to get to know her. I am grateful for my false self's auto pilot ability to carry on with daily life while emotionally I am gearing up for the great escape.

My goal with all to this is to finally get to "authentic compassion." It is going to take longer and be harder than I figured. Maybe a year. A first step could be to stop eating fake food.

Take care, Love Bea

It's My Birthday

2009-01-30T14:41:00.003-07:00

And I'll cry if I want to. I am 52 today, but that is not why I am crying. I am damn glad to be 52. My mother died at 48. I am crying because Mark and I had another fight on my birthday. We had a fight because I finally was able to go to sleep at 4:10 a.m.. I had to get up at 6 a.m. I haven't slept more than 4-5 hours a night for weeks, months, years, or maybe millennia. On two hours of sleep I am willing to pick a fight with anyone. I first tried to argue with the cat but she ignored me. So I picked at Mark until he fought back. Sigh.

During last night's sojourn I watched the latest episode of Oprah. She had Suzanne Sommers on. The whole show was about bioidentical hormones. Imagine how healing this was for me sitting there at 3 a.m. in my sweat soaked night gown eating left over meatloaf. It was a gift from God. I was darn near convinced by the show's end that I needed bioidenticals but was still sort of scared off by the guest (traditional) Dr.'s opinion. Then came breakfast and the empty cheerio box fight. (You don't want to know) I need those hormones.

And...I have an appointment next Friday at 11:30 to find out about getting some. I will be armed with a boat load of questions and requirements. If this doctor can't or won't help me I will travel farther afield. I AM GOING TO GET SOME HELP. I don't care if the hormones kill me. At least I will have had six months of normal life. I think what really sold me was when this miserable woman they had on the show a couple of weeks ago showed up last night looking twenty years younger. When asked how she felt on the bioidenticals she said "like she had had an infusion of joy." Sign me up. In the past two years my sense of humor has dried up as much as my vag ... well, you know. The thing that has brought me through all my tribulations has been the ability to see the funny side of life. Currently I am as morose as a Mortician. Phooey on that.

I am up for hormonal testimonials if you would care to share them.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

Masks, Part 1

2009-01-29T08:55:00.003-07:00

Thanks all for the comments. Wendy, I too am enthused about Paul McKenna and agree with his methods of eating, but not yet. I think Intuitive Eating works if you are also receiving effective help with the emotions that cause overeating. Without the emotional support nothing changes and IE becomes just another failed program.

I have to write about the weather. It was 22 below on Monday and twenty four hours later it snowed another eight inches. How is that possible? We had a full week of reprieve from the snow because it never reached zero during the day and was way below during the night. Then poof, the temp went up and we got about six inches. Then down went the mercury and no snow and then back up and the afore mentioned eight inches. One of the berms beside our driveway is over ten feet tall. It blocks out the sun. Our clothes line is six or seven feet tall. When the snow touches the lines I am leaving home. The dog stepped across a five foot fence yesterday. I shoveled for three and a half hours. I wore my back brace and just went at it. We are all in survival mode here.

Speaking of emotions. Anyone watching Oprah and her fat shows? Usually her program drives me nuts, but these episodes have been very enlightening. "What is it you really want," she keeps asking the guests? What is it that food is replacing? Good questions, and very effective to a point.

In the short term I know I eat because I want to be entertained or because I am exhausted or because I am nervous. I think those are habitual patterns based on laziness and my love of quick fixes. What I really wanted yesterday after my marathon shoveling event was a hot bath and a nap, and to scream to the Heavens about the unfairness of all this damn snow. But the bathtub was dirty. I'd have had to scrub it out before bathing. And I had taken the sheets off the bed to wash them so the bed was unnappable. And snow is "so good for the farmers you know." So...I consumed a giant ham sandwich, two cups of hot chocolate and six cheese sticks. I eventually took a shower, had a fight with Mark, and put the clean sheets on the bed and went to bed at bedtime. The food met my immediate need but it sure wasn't what I really wanted....

On a grander scale I don't think the questions work as well. I looked at the big picture of my life and asked myself what I really wanted. After much soul searching I knew the answer. Not so big surprise, I found it to be unattainable. Then I had donuts. I think I am a typical fat person. For many of Us what we want most in life is unattainable and we eat to stave off this primal pain. We can't get the ungettable and we eat to shield ourselves from the irrevocable. We are unwilling to look loss squarely in the face and allow it to crush us. We refuse to mourn.

I have much more to say about this but it will take another post.

Take care of yourselves by doing and getting what you really want. Love Bea

Hi Ho Trigger

2009-01-21T10:06:00.005-07:00

I hit 200 pounds on Sunday. I guess if Oprah can confess it so can I.

I have been using my food plan like a diet. Big surprise, it is not working. I just can't stick to it. But then I never could stick to restrictive diets. I lost a lot of weight on this plan a couple of years ago and just loved it. So what is the problem now? It is too limited. Who can go the rest of their lives without eating sugar, flour, nuts, bananas, cherries, avocados or grapes. I guess I could maybe pass on the mangoes but how in the world can you live and never again eat corn or ham? Or chew gum?

I decided to come at my increasing girth from another angle. I am not going to bring my trigger foods into the house.

According to much of the reading I have done one bite of sugar sets off a chemical reaction in some of our bodies that cannot be ignored and a craving and binge are sure to follow. I think that generalization is hooey. I do know what for me sets off a binge cycle. And that is really all I need to know. My prime set up for a binge is having my trigger foods close to hand. During my Christmas hiatus I sat down and figured out what food I could not leave alone or stop eating once I started. Here is the list.

1. Popcorn. If start eating this I am ravenous for hours afterward.
2. Mints. I could eat bags of these. (And have.)
3. Jam and jelly. I eat it until the whole jar is gone. Also chutney.
4. Baked goods. Most anything baked sings a siren song to me. Desserts are out also.
5. Apple cider and Vegetable juice cocktail. I drink the entire jug of both.
6. Flavored yogurt. Can't leave it alone until it is all gone. Yes even the
low sugar low fat kind.
7. Dried fruit. Lord help us I can eat a whole container of prunes. I then have to spend whole days and nights outdoors.
8. Flavored almonds, i.e. dark chocolate, vanilla, sea salt or chili flavored. The plain ones I can leave in the cupboard until they go stale.
9. Pistachios and macadamia nuts.
10. Ice cream, ice milk, frozen yogurt and gelato. Especially gelato.
11. Leftovers...not for long. Also lunch meat. Especially liver wurst.
12. Pizza and pretzels.
13. Soup. Is this not weird? I cannot leave soup alone once I have made it. I am obligated to eat it until the whole pot is empty.
14. Lasagna. See above.
15. Scalloped potatoes. Not fried, not baked, not mashed, just scalloped.
16. Candy. See mints.
17. Cherries and grapes. Same fallout as with prunes.
18. Hamburger assister. Anything and noodles. And gravy. I could drink gravy.
19. Cheesecake and all soft cheeses and flavored cheese and cheddar.
And Yes,
20. My old nemesis Peanut M & M's.

It is a long list but not impossible to ban from my house. Did you notice what is NOT on the list.

1. Bananas. I have never sat down and ate an entire bunch of bananas in my life. Or mangoes.
2. Potato chips. I don't like them. Corn chips I can take or leave. But pretzels...Nellie bar the door. I can inhale them.
3. Cold cereal. I could be drowning in sugary poffs and would not open my mouth to swallow it. I don't like it.
4. Peanuts and walnuts and cashews are okay but I wouldn't cross the street to seek them out.
5. Store bought bread. I have a loaf in the fridge going moldy.
6. Corn, I have never binged on corn.
7. Balsamic vinegar. I do not drink the stuff. Or blue cheese dressing or mayonnaise.
8. Honey. I have to microwave my honey because it keeps crystallizing. Also molasses and maple syrup.
9. Most potatoes, except scalloped.
10. Meat, fish, shell fish and veg. I do not binge on any of theses.
I have quit early with this list because what I can eat without bingeing is much longer than what I can't eat.

I guess my point is that it is purely personal what foods trigger my cravings and binges. Sugar in whatever form it enters my blood stream does not inevitably push me over the edge into overeating. It is something else. I don't know why the above listed foods send me face down into them. I suspect they have emotional associations of pleasure in my past. Comfort food.

But that is another post.

Take care of yourselves. I am.

Love Bea

Eating With The Enemy

2009-01-14T01:09:00.004-07:00

It is one A.M. I can't sleep because of digestive upset. I had a can of refried beans and some Stan and Harry's Carmel Sutra ice cream for supper.

Much has happened since last I wrote.
1. We have received so much snow it should make God blush.
2. I threw my back out shoveling said snow and even now can't do much.
3. I pulled muscles in my shoulder and screwed up my neck shoveling snow and subsequently my right arm went numb and refused to function.
4. I backed into the preacher's wife at choir practise in an icy parking lot further injuring my shoulder and back to say nothing of what it did to the bumper of the car.
5. Snow slid off the roof of the house and snapped off the outside water spigot. It was 27 below that night. Thank God the water was shut off to the spigot.
6. The alternator broke on the old car because of the cold, stranding Mark on the road side. I couldn't drive to go get him because of my arm. It was only 20 below that day.
7. An icicle fell off the roof and stabbed the dog in the head requiring six stitches.
8. The county road crew came by and cited us for having snow berms that were blocking sight of the road. We now have berms on either side of the drive way that are four feet high and about six to ten feet wide. Took us hours of shoveling to level the piles down to this height.
9. The neighbor's dog has taken to walking up the snow pile beside their barn to stand on the roof and howl all night. I know how he feels.
10. It was 45 degrees here today. The garage flooded.

In between crises I have had enforced time on my hands to think, and I have learned some stuff. I am so bored with my life I could spit. I hate living in this picture post card isolation. I am addicted to the television. I can choose what I think about. Self hypnosis is effective in changing the effects of trauma. Like Oprah I need to put my self back on my "to do" list. What I want out of life has changed. (More on all of this later.)

I will be fifty-two at the end of this month. I pledge to spend the next year searching out and doing what I really want to do instead of substituting fake crap for real living. Amen and amen.

Not Dead

2009-01-02T12:56:00.001-07:00

Happy New Year.

All is well here and I will soon return. Hope you all had a great Christmas.

Bye

Christmas Hiatus

2008-12-20T11:47:00.002-07:00

I am taking some time off for the Holidays. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all.

Second Abstinence

2008-12-03T10:21:00.003-07:00

This is a hard blog to write. I am going to quit blogging for a while. I will still be reading.

I love to blog but I think instead of relieving my food problem/depression it is actually making it worse. I get on here and reveal stuff I wish I had kept to myself. Then I feel bad. Then I eat. Some of the stuff I am spilling out here I need to hold inside and examine before letting it go public. I am tired of writing about my wretched condition. Seeing the words in print just seems to reinforce my sorry state.

I have also been relapsing big time. I have gained 20 pounds. It depresses me to go online and read everyone else's ongoing success stories when I feel so unsuccessful. I guess misery needs company.

I hit bottom with a thud on Saturday. I have been sugar abstinent since Monday. I will start flour abstinence next Monday. I want to be abstinent. No whining about the loss of the pleasure of sweets. No anger at not being able to eat like other people. No resentment about the prep time it takes to eat abstinently. Just relief that there is help for me and I know how to implement it.

I need an on the ground support system. I have gone it mostly alone up to now because that is part of the disease process, and there is no addictive eating anything in the wilds of Wyoming. I am researching my options for help.

Thank you all for YOUR support over the past couple of years. It has meant the world to me. See you in the new year.

Take care. Love Lynn

Tired or Depressed?

2008-11-26T11:13:00.003-07:00

Hell of a way to start a Thanksgiving blog ain't it? Let's get this straight upfront, I recognize and count my blessings. I am a well blessed woman. Thank You God. And God bless Us everyone.

We got back Sunday evening from a 1082 mile round trip..trip. We visited Mentor Mary and Heart Surgery Friends. Mark attended a CLE course (free). I shopped at Wally World. The dog moped.

On Monday I did laundry and cleaned house. I then spent three hours at an evening church committee meeting. Tuesday I spent three hours at another church (morning) meeting and then shopped for groceries and made a pie. Today I am supposed to be cooking for Thanksgiving. And you know what? I ain't a gonna do it. I'll cook the damn dinner on Friday. Thank God we are invited out tomorrow. I just need to make another pie.

I couldn't sleep last noc. I was attacked by my mind. Racing thoughts, twitching, sweating, the whole nine yards. I got up...and ate the pie I now have to replace. A whole pie. Amazing. Then came the backlash. I was plagued by visions of plunging knives into my bulging flesh. In an effort to right myself I decided to pace the deck. (Was freezing cold out there in my nightgown and robe I might add.) I also gave my craving a voice. Whoa Nellie.

Ever seen a two year old's temper tantrum? That is what came out of me. I hollered (quietly) for fifteen minutes. Much of it consisted of sobbing "I want it" and "Now." Eventually I was totally spent. Then I noticed the quiet, and the stars. Cold crisp wonder. The Big Dipper and Orion's Belt and the Milky way were there for the touching. I was at peace. And filled with gratitude. And I no longer wanted to eat, ever.

What did I learn? 1) I am tired. Having seventeen bodies to dinner one week and then going 1000 miles a week later was TOO MUCH. I do not adapt that quickly anymore. May hap I never did. 2) Sitting in front of the television to relax and rest up only makes me feel worse. 3) Movement makes me feel better. 4) Giving the craving a voice may be a useful tool in the future. 5) I am afraid the dog will want to get up at 1pm every morning and go for a walk.

I know this is a weird Holiday post but I had to let off more steam. Thanks for reading.

Happy Thanksgiving. Love Lynn

Black and White

2008-11-18T10:28:00.002-07:00

I hate stupid shades of grey. Not having absolutes makes me depressed. Take losing weight for instance. (That last sentence was supposed to be ironic.) I want to make up my mind, plan, statement, whatever and have a stopping and a starting point. I want to draw a line in the sand and then build a concrete wall on it. I want to be sure of a thing. I hate wandering around in a land of constantly shifting barriers.

I know where the longing for absolutes comes from. I know it is common to to women of my background. And you know what? Knowing is not all it is cracked up to be. And of limited practical value.

How do y'all cope with the living in rainbow land? ("Rainbow land" is more cheerful than shades of grey I thought.) It seems I can't respect myself unless I am functioning in black and white. It seems I can't be at peace unless I am functioning in black and white. It seems as though I can't think unless it is in black and white. How do most folks live in a world of shifting sand? I am sure I don't know.

Okay, after that depressing little diatribe I will cheer up a tad and tell you how the dinner went. Dinner was fine, I was a mess. I ended up with thirteen adults and four kids. We had enough food and drink. That was good. We had enough chairs to eat dinner. That was good. Guests had fun fellowship I think. That was good. I was mad as hell the whole time. That was bad. Gad am I a putz. I wasted a nice evening with friends seething inside about being taken advantage of. Since I invited all these people I am not sure who I thought was taking advantage of me. I want to enjoy people in my home so I invite them over, and then I promptly begin to hate them. What is my deal anyway?

Good bye cruel world from your fat depressed friend, Lynn.

Entertaining

2008-11-13T13:53:00.002-07:00

Fourteen people are due here at 6pm tomorrow night. I am cleaning like mad. I have the upstairs done and will soon have the kitchen done. Bathrooms I will do later this evening. Living room and bedroom I will do tomorrow along with setting the table. Will be lovely to have the house clean from top to bottom before the holidays get here. We are doing pot luck so my cooking is at a minimum. I am using paper everything. I finally got the living room curtains done and the laundry room shampooed. Yeah for me.

I am stressed so am eating. I am eating nuts. I have begun to hate nuts. I want peppermint candy. Do you think you can get addicted to peppermint? I even dreamed about it last night. Very odd. Peppermint tea helps with the craving but is sure not as good as those red and white starlight mints. I am totally off chocolate. Finally got on the scale. I gained three pounds. Good grief. I don't have time to hate myself today so I guess the three pounds will just have to remain three pounds.

Mentor Mary is holding her own. Her children and all her church family have rallied round. They ended up having two funerals, and a memorial service at the high-school. Fifteen year old Donna was well loved.

More next week if I survive the dinner party. How I am going to fit fourteen people in our kitchen is the question. Mark said the men could stand around in the mud room holding their plates and talk hunting and football. He said this sort of wistfully. Men are just odd.

Take care. Love Lynn

Out of the Loop

2008-11-08T15:09:00.002-07:00

Thanks guys for all of your comments about my friend's surgery. I feel a little less like an envious creep now.

Has been a hard week all around. A friend was laid off her job after working at the same hospital for twenty years. She was summarily let go and then escorted out of the building by a security guard. I thought this stuff only happened in the movies.

Mentor Mary's granddaughter was killed in a car accident on Thursday. Mary is coping but is in great pain. She said, " At 82 I am no stranger to tragedy, and it hurts the same each and every time." Please pray for her and for friend Kim.

Both of these events make being fat seem like a cake walk. No pun intended.

I am still reading and learning about feeling my feelings. Sitting with them and not eating is hard. I have figured out where my "overwhelmedness" comes from. I can now recognize my chest swelling on the inside when the feeling takes me over. All to do with the past of course. Just knowing that overwhelmed feeling is an unprocessed childhood reaction has been a God send. When I begin to feel it I can choose to sit down and look through my memories and see what surfaces. Has been real interesting what has come up. When I remember stuff then comes the hard part. I have to sit still and let the memories and all the accompanying emotions wash over me. If I can stand the emotions (and not eat) I eventually sort of pop thru on the other side of them. This feels like a miracle. Finally feeling the old buried stuff...diffuses it. I can then look at the "stuff" as a fifty-one year old woman and decide how I want to feel about it. I do not have to keep reacting like a child. I have allot of work ahead of me but I am eager to get to it.

Take care of yourselves. And I mean that. Love Lynn

Frustrated

2008-10-29T11:39:00.003-06:00

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

All Quiet

2008-10-24T09:50:00.002-06:00

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

New Beginnings

2008-10-19T06:50:00.002-06:00

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

Snow

2008-10-11T17:19:00.002-06:00

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

Murder in Yellowstone

2008-10-02T08:25:00.005-06:00

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

Safe in Yellowstone

2008-09-25T08:26:00.003-06:00

We are leaving for a couple of days in the Park. I found a cabin with a kitchen and a view. It is in our price range. I am determined not to make a huge production out of this trip. If I don't get some things done before we leave and if I forget some things, SO BE IT. I want to be relaxed not crazy in the time leading up to our vacationette. I am only vaguely planning this trip. I was going to drag along all the food for my food plan. Changed my mind. I will eat as best as possible and that will be good enough. I am really looking forward to being in Yellowstone. I always feel very safe in there.

Comes the second half of this post. I eat to feel safe. No big surprise, right? Was to me. I eat to feel, not emotionally safe, but physically safe. When I am eating I do not feel physically vulnerable. I suppose I have a long term case of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. In WWI they called it "Shell Shock" and in WWII "Battle Fatigue." All three titles feel applicable. A veteran and I compared symptoms. In his words, "You got 'em all sister." Difference between us is that he is got help for this specific problem and I never did. ...Anyhoo, when I am eating I feel protected.

(Damn, my hands are so cold I had to put on my gloves. Dog spent until noon yesterday licking the frozen water in her outside dish.)

Do you think part of maturation is coming to terms with our physical vulnerability? As in being aware that we are never really physically safe? Having been a nurse I think I am fairly comfortable with accidents, sickness, aging...and death from the afore mentioned. What I can't get a handle on is violence. I remain petrified of being attacked. Mark calls me Wild Bill Beula because in restaurants and else where I always want to sit with my back to the wall. I tell him it is so my hips won't show (and this is also true). What the heck am I afraid of? That some crazed waitress or church usher is going to cold cock me? I am always aware of the potential physical danger in every situation. Is this just prudent caution acquired over years of being alive, or am nuts?

On a lighter note. I have had a massage and two sessions of yoga. The massage was wondrous as usual. Patty (I am having trouble remembering what I called her last time) talked to me about spinning energy into my chakras. She said many of them were frozen and energy was not moving through my chakra system. She had me visualize my chakra system and then visualize movement at each individual chakra. Was very enlightening. Lo and behold, when I envisioned movement between my shoulder blades the pain in my neck went away. I want to form a habit of visualizing my chakra system and movement at each chakra at night before I go to sleep. I keep forgetting.

Yoga Fran said I would get more fluid as time goes on. Right now I crack and pot just bending over to put my mat on the floor. The best exercise so far is something she calls "angel wings." This exercise has alleviated the pain between my shoulders. It is also the only one I can half way do. I love yoga. The breathing is all. Amazing how much further I can stretch when I breathe out and "creep forward by millimeters." Yoga Fran is sweet, encouraging and at 60 plus, graceful as a gazelle. She is also very tall and has recently lost 30 pounds. She has more to go. This yoga is for every body.

I had a bunch to say today. Oh yeah, I am enjoying my meals again. I love brown rice with buttermilk and cinnamon for breakfast. And papayas.

Take care of yourselves. I am working toward taking care of me. Love Bea.

Self Respect

2008-09-19T08:36:00.003-06:00

Above all I yearn to respect myself. So...I made a list of the characteristics I respect in others (in no particular order).

1. Ability to say "No" with grace.
2. Organized. They can find their birth certificates and the dog's vaccination records at a moments notice.
3. Do not watch t.v..
4. Get massages, pedis, manis, waxings, hair cuts, facials, etc. on a routine basis.
5. Dress with understated well tailored style.
6. Get rid of stuff they are not using.
7. Do yoga and walk.
8. Eat non processed foods.
9. Cars are clean and in good repair.
10. Not self conscious.
11. Do not tailor their personality to suit the situation.
12. Friendly.
13. Deep spiritual life.
14. Ability to keep their own counsel.
15. On time.
16. Non-procrastinators, and can plan ahead.
17. Take tea breaks.
18. Good at the housewifely arts, canning, sewing, baking, etc.
20. Can clean toilets without griping.
21. Work at jobs they love.

As a woman who just bought a reed diffuser she didn't really want and then agreed to co-host a "Home and Garden Party," I am working on number one.

Take care. Love Bea.

Wending My Way,

2008-09-10T09:42:00.003-06:00

back toward health in spite of an outrageous number of invites to eat out. When I first started The Plan I refused to eat anywhere other than home. If you want to have no friends this works, otherwise, not. So...this time around I am working with the food presented to me, and then I go back to The Plan for the next meal. Since I am no longer interested in rapidly losing gobs of weight I think this strategy will work. Amazing what putting that scale in the closet has done for me. To let go of the daily weight check is like taking off a tight girdle. Ho, ho. I am eating in a healthy way to feel better physically, emotionally and mentally. If weight loss follows so be it. If not, then I guess I will make peace with the weight my body desires.

I am still cleaning out the freezer, fridge and pantry. Gad what a lot of off Plan stuff I have accumulated. Muffin mixes, pancake mix, stuffing mix, bread machine mixes, white flour, whole wheat flour, whole wheat pastry flour, rye flour, flat breads, tortillas (whole wheat and corn), honey wheat bread, cinnamon and orange rolls, pizza dough and frozen left over cake. See a pattern here? I apparently love the baked stuff. (I thought my major down fall was cheesecake and peanut M&M's. You learn something new every day.) I have also been acquiring the accoutrement of baking: raisins, craisins, currants, dried apricots, white sugar, brown sugar, powdered sugar, molasses, corn syrup, maple syrup, Hershey's syrup, vanilla, nuts of every vintage, butterscotch chips, chocolate chips and flaked coconut. To go on all those scones, muffins, biscuits and toast I purchased apple butter, marmalade, apricot preserves, raspberry preserves, honey and grape jelly (for Mark.) And this is just the sweet stuff. My salt obsession was met with olives, pickles, salsa, V-8 juice, Calmato juice, chips and microwave popcorn.

The church food pantry made a huge hall last Sunday.

I am having fun going back to being inventive with beans. (Hi Vickie) Rice and oatmeal and barley have also reappeared on my shelves. Mark is delighted with the increased amounts of meat I am serving. He dearly loves unadorned grilled meat and a potato for the evening meal. I am learning to make thick soups to pour over salad greens for our lunches. I made a jambalaya yesterday to die for. Today is split peas and ham. I FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE TURKEY SAUSAGE THAT DOES NOT GAG US. I need to get more creative with my bedtime snack. I have about exhausted the possibilities of fruit and yogurt. Any and all suggestions gladly welcomed.

My exercise is curtailed at the moment because I fell off the deck and messed up my shoulder. But this too will pass and I will enlist at Curves. All in all I feel like I have a new lease on life.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

P.S. I have a massage scheduled for next Tuesday.

I Surrender

2008-09-03T08:40:00.003-06:00

(With thanks to Cindy.)

I have been in relapse for almost two years now. I remember the day it happened.

A month or two after we moved up here we received an invitation from "home" for a "Going Away party." We had moved in such a rush there hadn't been time to have one. I did not want to go. Dreaded it in fact. I was not yet settled in here and going back to the place I loved and had to leave was more than I thought I could cope with. But, you know how it is, these were friends who were missing us and wanted to do something for us. I went anyway. I was right. I couldn't cope.

I read somewhere that our coping skills work until we hit a situation that is too strong for them, and then we revert to comfort seeking behavior. I did okay for the first couple of days. We stayed in a motel I was unfamiliar with so it did not seem like being home. I was shaky but still able to adhere to my food plan in spite of eating out and at friends' houses. The final day of the trip was the scheduled big blowout party. I ate appropriately to prepare for this challenge. As we got dressed for the party I looked in the mirror and thought, "Not bad, not bad at all." I weighed 179. On the way to the party I asked Mark if we could drive by our recently vacated house. We had been studiously avoiding going any where near it the whole time we had been there. He was dubious but I said I felt strong enough. BIG MISTAKE. After seeing the house the damn broke. Evey ounce of strength I had used for the move and relocation was used up. I broke. I sobbed all the way to the party. I cried during the party and all the way back up here. I started eating "off plan" at the party and I have been eating like that ever since.

I am a testament to losing weight slowly. It has taken me two years to re-gain 16 pounds. That is something. My body had really gotten used to using food as fuel and not as comfort. In the past two years I have tried all sort of things to get my motivation back. I tried to go back to the Kay Shepperd food plan, no dice. I tried Atkins, no dice. I tried Intuitive Eating, no dice. I read every book I could find about motivation, no dice. Nothing worked. I craved sugar and fat, and I have been eating it in ever increasing amounts. I couldn't stop. I hadn't yet hit bottom.

I was okay the first couple of days Mark was gone. I did my normal routine and was fine. But the third day something happened. I couldn't get out of bed. If it hadn't been for the dog I'd be there still. After Mollie forced me to move I showered and went to the grocery store. I bought everything I wanted to eat. And I mean everything. Then I went home, put on an old baggy sweatsuit, closed the drapes, turned off the phone, and began to eat. I did not shower or leave the house for three days. I see why depressed/addicted mothers abuse their children. I hated Mollie and the cats for needing me. I did only the bare minimum for them. The dog was the worst. She kept wanting attention. I hated her.

The day Mark was due home I got off the sofa and tried to hide my depression and binge. It was very heavy (no pun) sledding. The house was filthy and so was I. I cleaned at some of the mess and took a shower. I was so sick it took all I had to just get that done. I was way past self loathing and was numb when he finally arrived home. He was so tired he didn't notice. We spoke very little and went to bed. At least he did. I told him I had the flu and would need to sleep on the couch. I spent the better part of the night in the bathroom. Mark was very solicitous the next morning. I told him the house was so awful because I had been sick most of the time he was away. He was so sweet it make me feel worse. We both slept most of day. He made himself breakfast and lunch. I couldn't eat. Come dinner time we were both perkier and Mark suggested we go out to a fancy place and eat. I just stood there like I had been pole axed and then started to cry. The whole ugly story came out. Was another very long night.

...I put the scale in the closet. I cleaned out the kitchen. We went shopping and bought good food. I am re-reading, "From the First Bite." I got out my measuring cups and little scale. I am back on THE PLAN. I feel shaky and weak but oh so happy. At this point I don't care about weight loss. I just want to feel better and not be led around by my obsession with food. The only way I know to achieve this is to turn myself and my food over to God and the food plan. I am grateful to God for giving me His strength. I am at peace, finally.

When I feel stronger I will analyze WHAT HAPPENED but for now I am just grateful for the miracle.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

Phooey

2008-08-29T09:47:00.004-06:00

I have half an acre of brownish grass to mow, the house is dirty, the dog is bored, the washer is leaking, I forgot choir practise AND...my husband is calling me every evening with tales of fun adventures. Last eve he toured an old sailing ship on Fisherman's Wharf and took a boat tour around Alcatraz Island. The evening before that he rode up and down Nob Hill on a cable car. Tonight he is going to Chinatown. I hate him.

He is gone all this week to San Francisco to a death penalty seminar. He is having a blast. I hate him. I wanted to go but finances are tight and I HAVE GAINED WEIGHT. Both things stopped me from going. I hate him.

Our extra finances this summer have gone to home repairs and visits to Mentor Mary and Friends in hospital. I am happy we did all of these things and, I still resent being broke and stuck in Podunk WY while my husband is wining and dining in the City by the Bay.

Okay now down to cases. I could have put my ticket and meals and dog sitter on a credit card. Would not have been real smart but was sure doable. Truth? I didn't go because I felt and feel fat. Real fat. When they weighed me at Curves I weighed 196. That is 16 pounds I have re-gained. My clothes don't fit. I could not face going to the land of skinny people looking and feeling like a failed whale. Phooey.

Today I want to lie down and just give up. I want to let a tide of fat wash over and drown me. Why fight the inevitable? For multitudinous reasons I was meant to be fat and that is all there is to it. I am jousting at windmills in the attempt to be thin. I give in, give up, give over. I am a fat nobody going nowhere.

Goodbye cruel world.

Bea.

(Why am I laughing like a demented woman?)