Thursday, September 10, 2009

Daddy/Daugher Rockers and The Secret to the Best Grilled Steak

Um. Hello?

Is it safe for me to to stick my head back out? (smile)

Thanks for the very spirited welcome I received when I returned from our house hunting trip last night. It's always interesting to read the wide variety of opinions and thoughts represented by my diverse and wonderful family of readers.

I'm not going to spend a lot of time on yesterday's comments since I have plenty of cool stuff to write about today but I did want to briefly touch on a couple things.


First, the fact was mentioned that we don't even have the job in Manteo yet.

Yes, that is true that we haven't been officially voted on. However, since the chairman of the church board is the one who actually recommended our realtor to us and who also invited us to stay overnight at his house during our house hunting visit, we get the impression that that he feels like it's a good idea to start that process. And so we did!


Also, someone else wondered why Steve and I haven't been working the past nine months and also wondered if working "regular jobs" wasn't appropriate for a pastor and his wife. That's a great question and I'm glad you brought it up.

I actually had to smile a bit when I first saw that particular question because I mentally went back over the list of some of the jobs Steve and I have worked in past years. They have included (between the two of us) cleaning hotel rooms, cleaning houses, selling shoes, working as a mechanic, being a switchboard operator, and working as a forklift operator. Since several of those jobs were held while we were in the ministry and needing to supplement our income, I guess you could say that we don't find many jobs to be inappropriate for ministers. Of course, we really have to draw the line at drug dealing and bank robbing. (smile)


Shortly after Steve resigned last November, we both signed up at a couple temp agencies in the area; unfortunately, at that particular time, the agencies were getting slammed with twice as many applicants as usual and half as many jobs available.

Steve also put in an application at Lowe's Home Supply store and both of us put in a couple applications at other places. He spent quite a bit of time going to meetings and gathering information about being a substitute school teacher but that field (in this county, at least) is woefully overcrowded. A bad economy coupled with the fact that we were never sure how long we'd be able to work before our move didn't help us out any in the job searching process.

However, since my voice has started recuperating a bit more in the past few months, we have been able to travel a bit more to various churches to sing and preach. That has brought some income in for us, which we've been very grateful for. In the meantime, we continue to live mostly on an equity loan and we also continue to embrace all the joyful challenges of living frugally. (My family calls me the "Queen of Leftovers.")

______________________________

Alrighty then! Now let's go back to our regularly scheduled programming which will first of all include a couple of "funnies" from our trip:


First funny:

As we were looking through one particular house Tuesday, I happened to glance over at the phone on the wall. Taped up next to the phone was a hand printed index card with these words:

"No, I'm sorry I can't donate this year. My wife won't let me."

We all got a good giggle out of that, including the realtor.


Second funny:

When we were driving to the chairman of the board's house on Tuesday evening, Steve decided that since he had already met his wife briefly before, he would be a helpful husband and fill me in on the few thing that he knew about her. And one of those details just happened to be that, "She used to be a man."

Steve said that sentence so casually and matter-of-factly that I really didn't quite know what to say. I opened my mouth a couple of times to reply but no response I could think of seemed quite appropriate.

After a few seconds had passed Steve continued his explanation, "You know, from the Mann Family that Mann's Harbor was named after?"

Ohhhhh! Mann was her maiden name. The light dawned!



After we looked at a few houses on Tuesday, we took an hour or so just to wander around the waterfront area.



Then there was the daddy/daughter walk down the pier


To the rocking chair area . . .


The daddy/daughter rocking chair area


After that, we decided we could use a little snack so we drove a mile or two to the Front Porch Cafe. As soon as I walked in and saw the interior, I fell in love. Cool, creative, artsy, whimsical, plus it smelled great and played Jack Johnson music. What's not to love?



Well, besides the fact that I hate coffee and they mainly serve coffee. But still, it was a wonderful place!



From there, it was on to the home of our hosts to meet the lady who "used to be a Mann."

This is a picture of Steve's and my sleeping area. Lovely and peaceful.




We had two arrangements of fresh flowers from our host's garden.

One in the bathroom . . .



Another in the bedroom.



And outside our bedroom door, we had this lovely view.


For dinner, they served us grilled steaks and I must say that they were very close to being the best steaks we have ever had.

And because you all are such wonderful and lovely blog folks, I got permission to share the secret recipe with you. It is "beyond words wonderful."

Part of the secret seems to be to always let steaks come to room temperature before grilling so that you don't "shock the meat." Sprinkle the steaks with meat tenderizer and then let them sit out on the counter for a couple of hours in a bath of Worcestershire sauce. (Of course, you could also add whatever spices you like.) Turn them every once in awhile and sprinkle with more tenderizer. And grill.

Absolutely amazing steak!

We got home last yesterday afternoon, pretty well exhausted. Steve had just a short while to catch a cat nap before eating a bite of dinner and heading right back out the door to speak at an area church. (He's doing their Wednesday night teaching for the month of September.)

I went to bed pretty early, slept well, and am now gearing up for our trip to Florida where we will have a service Sunday morning and a service Sunday night. Yikes. My little ol' voice will get quite a workout with two concerts in one day.

Well, that's it for now! I hope you all have a wonderful day and as always, thanks so much for stopping by. I appreciate each one of you!

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Fighting With Myself

I didn't grow up wealthy and I didn't grow up living in large and luxurious homes.

In our family, there were three boys and three girls (in that order) and we always lived in smallish houses with three bedroom and just one bath. I even recall one house that we lived in briefly where we used an outhouse and took our baths in a galvanized tub in the kitchen. (Helloooo, Laura Ingalls!)

So. No silver spoons in this particular mouth!

And I was good with that. Waiting in line for the bathroom taught me patience. Co-existing peaceably with two younger sisters in a small bedroom taught me forbearance; in fact, it imbued all three of us with a dollop or two of unselfishness. (Which didn't mean, of course, that my lovely little sisters and I didn't occasionally have a disagreement or two.)

I was basically happy as a child and didn't think much about the fact that maybe we were living with too many people in too little space. But when I got into my late teens and started looking ahead to adulthood and marriage and family I would occasionally think, "Someday I would really love to have a little extra living space."

And so what did I do about that wistful dream? At the age of nineteen, I married a fella who, like me, was called and gifted to minister in music. On the road. Full time. For over fifteen years.

And where did we live during those years? Well, for the first three years we lived in 275 sq. feet of space. Which isn't much for two people.

It's even less when you add a baby. And, um, also add a sister and brother-in-law. Who were newlyweds.

But we did it. Quite happily, may I add.

However, every once in awhile, I would look around at our cramped quarters and my little ol' heart would yearn for space, for extra footage, and for room to stretch out just a little.

After those first three years, our ministry was able to provide Randy and Debbie with their own RV so then it was just Steve, Nathan and me in our wee bit of space. A few more years passed, Sarah joined us and we moved into a new RV featuring a glorious 475 square feet of space. Wow! Mammoth livin'!

And that's where we lived for a very long time--a family of four (and one dog) in less space than the equivalent of many peoples' garage.

Back then, I was quite creative in my use of space; for instance, I kept my breakfast cereal boxes in the oven and then when I had to use the oven, I moved the cereal boxes to the bathtub. A bit cumbersome, but it worked.

And not only did we have regular household items to make space for, we also had home schooling materials in addition to all the stuff (printer, lap top, office supplies, posters, mailing materials for promo) that were needed to maintain the business side of our ministry.

Of course, whenever we moved the rig (about twice a week) all the things on the counters and shelves had to come down and be stored securely. Because of that, I tended to be a bit thin in the decorative knickknack department; I didn't want a surplus of delicate little things to have to secure whenever we hit the road.

I remember once when I was in a store and saw some Willow Tree figurines which I absolutely love. I stood and stared longingly at one particular piece for a long, long time and thought how much I would love to buy it. In fact, I actually remember crying over that little figurine because I so longed for a day when I might have a house with more space and lots of shelves and no more Cheerios boxes stored in the oven.

Those little fits of angst were few and far between though, because as a rule, I loved the way we lived; it was something I had wanted to do since was I was a child. But that still didn't mean that it wasn't occasionally challenging and frustrating to live within such limited parameters.

Fast forward with me to 2002 when Sarah was diagnosed with cancer. We left the road. We sold the RV. We rented a house for a while during Sarah's treatment and then we moved here to Smithfield.

Ahhh. Space. For the first time in my life, plenty of space!

Our current house is 2150 square feet. Not huge by some standards but a whole lot roomier than the 475 feet we were used to.

The house has four bedrooms. Four! Which means that we have space for guests to stay overnight and we have a room set aside just for an office. No more sharing our tiny RV bedroom with all of the office equipment. Living here has been a blessed balm to my space-starved soul.

Now we're getting ready to move again. In fact, in just a few minutes we'll be leaving for an overnight trip to Manteo. We're going to spend part of today with our realtor there, looking at homes for sale and then we'll spend the night at the home of the chairman of the church board and his family.

There's just one little ol' problem. The houses in Manteo are at least twice as expensive as the houses in Smithfield, mainly because of the cost of land. Which means that buying the equivelant of our current home would cost us a whole lot more in Manteo than we could afford.

And this is where the "fighting with myself" part comes in.

As I just said, I have spent many years of my life living full time with my family in an amount of space that most Americans can't even imagine. I have done it happily and with gladness and most of the time, I didn't even think twice about it.

But now? Now I have experienced the wondrous joy of having space. Steve and I have had thirty people at a time over for meals and have had room for them all; in fact, over the 4 1/2 years that we were at First Assembly, we had at least 200 people from the church come over. When we've had overnight guests come to visit, they've had their own bedroom to sleep in. (Well, it was actually Nathan's bedroom but he gave up his room and slept on the couch.)

And now I'm facing the very good possibility of living in a whole lot less space than I've gotten used to; a place where I might possibly be squeezing ten people in for a party instead of thirty and putting overnight guests in much more cramped and less private quarters. And for someone who loves opening her home to a lot of folks, that's kind of tough.

But it's okay. Really it is. Because I know very well the statistics which say that even someone living in a 700 square foot house in the U.S. is fabulously wealthy compared with the average world citizen. In Manteo I will have running water, electricity, garbage pick up, refrigeration, a soft bed, a working stove and a flushing toilet. Those things mean that I will be incredibly and luxuriously rich.

I understand that. And yet the fight with myself continues.

I know full well that we can still entertain people on a smaller basis and that overnight guests can sleep on a pull out bed in the living room and that I can sit in a closet when I need a writing nook. Kitchen tables make good desks and home school areas and if anybody can make do with living in a smaller amount of space, surely I can after all those years of living in my "little house on the freeway."

But my heart still longs for space. It longs for room to entertain, room to have a writing nook, room for a piano, room for living beyond the confines I've experienced for so long.

And yet, I am bound and determined to be grateful for whatever the Lord provides because I remind myself again how blessed I am to live in an abundant land like America. And I also want a truly thankful heart, not just for myself but also for my daughter who will "catch" whatever attitude my heart exhibits.

Just when I think that I've won that hard heart battle, that little ol' voice pops up again and screeches, "Space. I want space!"

Sigh.

I'm just being as honest with you as I know how to be. And I wonder if any of you ever struggle with this sort of thing? Anyone else occasionally deal with unthankfulness? Wanting more than you have? Like me, do your yearnings sometimes outpace your earnings?

This morning we'll head out and take a look at where our future will probably unfold; we'll possibly even find a house today at will shelter our hearts, our lives, and our family for years to come.

And whether it's 1,400 square feet or 3,000 square feet (be still, my heart!) there will be plenty of room in that home for thankfulness.

Which is good. Because I plan to take plenty of it with me when I go.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Alphabetized Spice Rack;
Lunch With A Kennedy

One of my first items of business when I got up this morning (At 5:30. With the dog. Sigh.) was to educate myself about Labor Day. (Since it occurred to me that I was just slightly lacking in information on that particular subject.) And because I'm so very nice, I have decided to pass the information on to you so that you can sound especially impressive at your cookout of choice tonight. (From How Things Work)

For a lot of people, Labor Day means two things: a day off and the end of summer. But why is it called Labor Day? Labor Day is a day set aside to pay tribute to working men and women. It has been celebrated as a national holiday in the United States and Canada since 1894.

The workers' unions chose the first Monday in September because it was halfway between Independence Day and Thanksgiving. The idea spread across the country, and some states designated Labor Day as a holiday even before the federal holiday was created.



So there you have it!

The rest of this Labor Day post is going to be dedicated to giving me a break from the (happy) labor of writing and will instead feature some recent pictures.

I'll start with a photo of the worldly belongings of our son as he was preparing to leave once again for college. Every year I ask him him if he is really quite sure that he needs to go and every year he tells me that he really does. And so I sigh and hug him and tell him I'm proud of him and I watch him drive away. Again.



On the way out door and into the car, he was doing his usual funny stuff. I guess he thought it was better to leave behind a laughing Mom rather than a crying Mom.


Nathan will turn twenty on September 18 and we will actually be in Florida a few days before that singing and preaching at a couple churches in the area. I'm happy that it worked out that we will be able to celebrate a really big birthday with our really fabulous College Dude!

The following photo is of Steve with Rev. Randall Woodard, a long time acquaintance of our family. What's especially cool is that when Steve and I were youth pastors here in Smithfield back in the early 80's (when dinosaurs still roamed the earth), Randall was a member of our youth group. Last Sunday, Steve went to Randall's church to hear him preach, which was very special for both of them.



And speaking of Steve, here is a picture of him with Snowy that proves that Sarah is not the only Smith that Snowy deigns to hang out with. (Although I think he loves her best because she's needed him the most.)

He actually loves to spend time with whichever Smith Person is not moving at any given time. Whether the person is lying down, sitting down, or standing still, Snowy has "A Smith Person Is Not Moving" radar which enables him to show up and commence to lying, sitting, or standing with the aforementioned person. Nice to have such a companionable little doggie around.
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I guess I could call this picture, "Lunch With A Kennedy." Steve had made his little meal of a sandwich, water, and a pickle; I snapped the picture when he stepped away for a minute. I just thought how nicely this little tableau illustrates Steve's simple tastes in life--give him peanut butter and a magazine at lunchtime and he's a happy fella.



And finally we come to the most wonderful of all pictures--the one that features my alphabetized spice rack. (I know, I know. Getting to see a picture like this makes it worth getting up in the morning, doesn't it?)


I once had a friend say, "You alphabetize your spice rack? You have way to much time on your hands!"

In my defense, I have to say that having an alphabetized spice rack is actually for people who have too little time on their hands. When I'm cooking in a hurry for a big group of people, or even trying to get dinner on the table for my family, I can't tell you how delightful it is to spend one second looking for the tarragon instead of three minutes.

Actually, my spices are not in complete alphabetical array: on the very front row I have my most used spices: paprika, parsley, garlic salt, onion salt, cinnamon. And in the very back, I have large containers of re-fill spices. But other than that, the ABC's rule!

However, about every six months or so, the spices have to be re-ordered and whipped back into shape because I tend to get in a hurry and just start flinging bottles back onto the shelves. And so, in light of the fact that we'll be moving soon, I took all the spices out, wiped down the cupboards and then re-arranged them.

It was just way too much fun. And I highly recommend it as a way to spend a Saturday afternoon. And no, I don't get out much.




Alrighty then. I know that this post may have contained a bit more excitement than you're used to, what with peanut butter sandwiches, a college student's belongings, and a story of cinnamon lined up neatly in its place. You may have to take a little rest when you get done reading to let your heartbeat settle back down to normal.


But before I leave you to do that, I'd like to show you one more picture; it's one I found of my mom and dad taken a few years ago and it sums up so well their loving relationship.


My dad has been gone to heaven for just seventeen days now, which in "heaven time" is probably only half a blink of an eye. He left behind him pictures, a faithful wife, laughter, music, family, love--and a daughter who alphabetizes her spice rack.

I think he did okay.


Sunday, September 6, 2009

A Recipe and Fitness Group Info

Since it's a busy holiday weekend, I won't keep you real long. I just wanted to share a recipe with you and also give you a quick update on the state of our Fitness Group Discussion Forum.

First, the recipe. Sarah and I made this together last night and it turned out really well.

TACO STUFFED PASTA SHELLS

16 jumbo dried pasta shells, prepared according to directions, rinsed and drained
1 lb ground beef (or ground turkey)
1 pkg. taco seasoning
1 C water
1 16 oz. can refried beans
1 C shredded cheddar cheese (2% is fine)
1 16 oz jar salsa (mild, medium or hot, depending on your preference)
1/4 C sliced green onions (optional)
Sour cream (optional) (Lite is fine)

1. Cook beef in large skillet; drain. Add taco seasoning and water. Cook over low heat for five minutes until thickened.
2. Add beans and 3/4 C cheese; mix well
3. Spread 1/4 C salsa over each of the 8-inch square baking dishes
4. Fill shells with beef mixture; place half of shells in each baking dish, filled side up. Spoon remaining salsa over shells.
5. Cover baking dish with foil. Bake at 350 degrees for 40-45 minutes or until heated through.
6. Sprinkle with onions (if using) and remaining cheese; serve with sour cream.

The really great news? This can be made ahead! I LOVE make ahead food.
If freezing: Cover one or both baking dishes with plastic wrap, then over wrap with foil. Freeze for up to 2 months. To bake frozen shells: Place baking dish in fridge overnight. Remove plastic wrap; recover with foil. Repeat step 6.

Happy eating!

I guess this would be a great place to segue into a review of the conversation we've been having here over the past few days about food, weight gain, weight loss, fitness and Little Debbie Cakes.

We had talked about having a place to discuss those topics and that place is here! If you'll scroll down the right column and click on the "Visit My Community" button; you'll see that I've started a heading there called, "Food, Friends, and Fitness."

This is a place to come and hang out for those of us needing support, advice and encouragement in the area of fitness. If you have a healthy recipe to share, or if you've lost ten pounds and need someone to celebrate with, OR if you've gained ten pounds and are rather disconsolate--this is your spot!

Head on over and jump on in!

We've had some good discussion in other areas of the Community last week, too; it's been exciting to see more of your names, faces, questions and opinions pop up. Also, if you become a part of the Community, your blogs will show up in that area. Visit the Community for more info.

In other news, we'll be going on two overnight, out of town trips this week--one to Manteo and one to Florida. I'll have plenty of stories and pictures to share.

For today's travels, Steve is heading out the door to Duke to visit a neighbor of ours who just had a heart transplant.

Thanks for stopping by; enjoy the rest of your weekend.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

The Untitled Hymn and The Weepin' Mama

I told you that Nathan sang The Untitled Hymn (by Chris Rice) at my Dad's funeral two weeks ago and how special that was to me.

Here's a story from the archives about the first time I ever heard him sing that song. It helps explain why the song means so much and it also helps to explain why my oldest child is so stinkin' special to me. I just love that fella!


SUMMER 2007

I remember about three years when Sarah was in the middle of an especially challenging chapter of cancer treatment and I heard The Untitled Hymn on the radio. The song talks about all the different chapters in a person’s life and then comes to a poignant, powerful section about the end of a person’s life ending with the words, “Fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus and live.”

Well, when I first heard that song, I almost had to pull the car over because of the tide of tears that swept over me as I thought about our precious little daughter battling for her life.

I hadn’t heard the song in a long time and then just last week, Nathan told me he had been practicing it because he wanted to sing it in church. Yesterday after lunch, he asked me to come to his room to listen to him practice and suggest any changes.

As I settled myself contentedly in his recliner, he planted his lanky, gangly self in front of me and started to sing. He has such a sweet baritone voice and the words to that song are so incredibly beautiful. In wasn't long before the memories of the first time I'd heard that song, and the thoughts of what was happening with Sarah at that time, came sweeping back over me.

I listened to his tender voice and I thought about loss and grief and comfort and death and hope and the journey of life. I thought about him flying off to Ecuador soon and flying off to college soon after that I thought about the possibility that Sarah might fly off to heaven sooner than we all hope.

By the time he finally got to those words, "Fly to Jesus," I was an absolutely, completely, totally teary mess. Nathan looked just a tad alarmed to see that his singing had made me cry but after casting a sympathetic look in my direction, he sang on to the end.

As I listened to his warm, resonant voice filling the sun-splashed room, I felt such peace. For a few moments, it seemed like the roles had been reversed and my child had become the lullaby singer, the comfort giver, the voice of healing to my soul.

On a quiet Sunday afternoon, in a bedroom filled with all the precious pieces of his life, I listened to my son sing his heart and I heard the peace of heaven in his voice.

Friday, September 4, 2009

A Little Ol' Idea

Thanks to each one of you who commented after my "weepin' and wailin' 'bout weight" post yesterday. Your compassion, understanding, and wisdom were so therapeutic. (Not QUITE as therapeutic as Little Debbie's, of course, but very, very close.)

And in order to even more fully appreciate what you all said, I've taken an excerpt from each comment and am posting it below. The unifying theme in almost every entry is that we all struggle with many of the same issues, which I thought should be an encouragement to us all.

After the "comments" be sure to read down to the end where I have a little ol' idea for us to consider.

Without further ado . . . here are YOUR wonderful comments! (Also, if a commentor has a blog, I included the site address. However, for some strange reason, all the "clickable names" associated with links didn't change color like they were supposed to so you can just click on any name you're interested in to see if it links you to a blog.)


COMMENTS FROM YESTERDAY:
Becky, I am SO where you are...And like you, I know exactly how I put the weight back on that I had lost. I feel better just knowing someone else is in the same boat and I think it's time for me to get back out walking and eat better. I think we can both do it. We both did it once before!
--Lesley

I know exactly how comforting those carbs and chocolate can be. --Leesa

I have yet to get back to our gym since doing my first triathlon this summer. Here's to getting back into training for all of us. --Sheri

I think most of us would be gaining a pants size or two ourselves if placed in the same situations. --Karen

I feel your pain. Several years ago I lost 50 lbs. I maintained that loss until I got pregnant. I gained 50 lbs. during my pregnancy. Don't be too hard on yourself, you're going through some major life changes. Me? No real excuse! --Melissa

Start by forgiving yourself. Then move on. Immediately. --Vickie

You go girl! You lost all of the weight last year and you are a carb junkie to boot! I am envious. That is my downfall too. I just love those carbs. I need to take off and keep off about 10 lbs and it is ever so difficult. --Catherine

I have about 70 lbs to loose to get to a comfortable weight but can't seem to not eat the bad food. --Angela

Exercise will help reduce your stress and help balance your emotions. It will be easier to get back in shape this time, it really will. You have only been out of the gym a month, you have not lost all the strength you have gained. --Min ("Min" is a trainer/nutritionist and left a lot of very helpful advice.)

Just try to guess how many women read your post, sighed, and said "ME TOO." Everyone likes to shout successes, yet we cower and hide from our slip outs. The thing is that we can't have one without the other! --Tess

So, you see, you wouldn't have these problems if you weren't so dang thin to begin with! (I'm not saying I'm really, really fat...but it looks as if I swallowed Little Debbie herself!)
---Sue

I just want to say that I agree with everyone here. Please don't be so hard on yourself. --Nancy (I couldn't get your website address to cooperate with a clickable link. However, you can access her page in my right side bar. )

A great side benefit of the exercise is all of those endorphins, which will even help lift some of the sadness. So, ya got ta move it, move it... and those clothes will fit well again in no time!
--Pam

Becky, I do understand the 'call of the carbs' after such tumultuous days. It helps a lot to plug the holes that get poked into my high spirits! Kudos's to you for getting to the gym! Yippee! Myself, I am soo wimpy (and a little scared) to try it, so you are well ahead of me.
--Regina

Oh gosh, I think we've all been there. (The "found pounds" and lost fitness, not everything else you're having to deal with).
Lyndsay

I do empathise with the "dryer shrunk all my clothes" theory. I have thought that myself recently - but I am back with that exercise video - not as diligently as before - but it is a start - so, Becky, we are all in that waiting room with you again - only, thankfully, this waiting room is outside a gym!!! --Mary


And finally, an intriguing idea from Anna . . .

Maybe there are people who would like to organize a work out buddy system on the Internet. We could all post our goals for the week and then report how well we did. (We would all have to be honest) :)

I don't have anyone to work out with so this might make me more accountable. We could also have a buddy to whom we can send encouraging messages. I don't think we should focus on the weight loss, but instead the achievement of working out. If we work out, the weight will come off.



What do you think of that idea?

Here are a few thoughts I had:


The area in the right column called "My Community" gets a little bit of use, but not much. There is a very active discussion group over at MckMama's site that draws thousands of participants and so it's a great place to go to involved with a lot of input and discussion.

However, rather than reinventing the wheel and trying to build an active discussion group here, we could use the area instead for a support group forum for people who are not just trying to lose weight but also make make healthy living choices in general.

If you'd like, we could give it a try for a predetermined length of time, let's say until October 1. If there is enough interest to keep it going, we will. If not, well, it will have been fun to try!

So I need to hear from you whether or not you're interested and if so, what sorts of categories I should set up. Here are some ideas. Can you think of others or can you think of something you'd like to change on these?


  • Healthy recipes

  • Good books/resources that are especially helpful

  • Things you're struggling with right now in the fitness/health area

  • Things you're proud of about yourself in that area. (I'll brag on myself here: yesterday we went to a movie and I cut up an apple and put it in my purse. I ate that instead of my usual Peanut M&M's and it even tasted good to me. Hurray!)

  • How much weight and/or inches you've lost in the last week/month

  • Workout/fitness goals

  • General inspiration/information

Please chime in and let me know if this is something you'd like to try. I tend to get the feeling that many of us are in the same boat and could use an encouraging sisterhood to keep us accountable and rejoice with us when we succeed. (And give us a virtual hug when we don't.)

Thanks for stopping by and, again, thank you for all your encouraging comments yesterday.



Thursday, September 3, 2009

My Torpid Turtle-esque Self

Honesty.

Not so much fun.

Especially when it has to do with me. And my weight. And my discipline. Or the lack thereof.

Last year I lost thirty pounds, which was a wonderful and rewarding thing to do.

And for about fifteen minutes during that period of time, I actually dropped down to a size ten, from a size fourteen! Which was also wonderful and rewarding.

Unfortunately, my "ten-ness" was severely compromised by the arrival of Christmas. It's hard to maintain any consistent smallness when Christmas concoctions and fabulous fudge start showing up regularly in the vicinity of one's person.

So I went pretty quickly back up to a size twelve which I was really okay with. I'd rather be a size twelve and be happy than struggle and starve and be miserable trying to be a size ten.

And I've done really well maintaining that weight for almost a whole year, an accomplishment which I am quite proud of.

However, a few weeks ago I started getting just a wee bit lackadaisical about going to the gym because, as I whined to myself, going to the gym just wasn't fun. (Pitiful, I know.)

And then we traveled out of town to Nag's Head and Manteo and and I ate a lot of yummy beach food while we were there.

From the beach, I left almost immediately for Wisconsin to be at my Dad's side as he passed away and to attend his funeral. And I ate a lot of yummy "family gathering" food while I was there.

And then we flew home and we were in three airports and I ate a lot of yummy airport food while I was there.

And then? Well, then I got home and a fabulous, famous food group called Comfort Carbs and Calories started calling my name. And so I've been heating a lot of yummy comfort foods while I've been here.

And you've probably already guessed the rest of the story.

The rest of the story is that a few pounds have come back for a visit. In fact, earlier this week I was getting dressed and I thought, "Wow! These pants have really shrunk in the dryer."

Except of course, the pants hadn't shrunk. The problem was that I had shrunk earlier in the year and then unfortunately neglected to do any unshrinking.

And so yesterday I somberly headed out to Goodwill to purchase a couple pair of slightly roomier carpi's to get me through this temporary unshrunken state.

Not so fun.

Something else that wasn't so fun was going to the gym on Tuesday for the first time in a month.

I sat down on that little torture machine which is supposed to work the inner and outer thighs. (Not that my inner and outer thighs need any work, mind you.) I did one little 'ol rep and stopped dead in my tracks. I looked at the weights to make sure they were set at the lowest weight possible.

They were.

Then I looked to see if anyone had hung an additional weight on the machine, which people do sometimes do when they need a "half way" setting between two weight choices.

They hadn't.

I sat there and pondered some unhappy ponderments.

A month ago, I could do fifteen reps at that low weight and now I could barely do five?

Not a good thing.

I also made a heroic attempt to do my pre-treadmill stretches which was really pretty funny, in a nonfunny sort of way. The stretches I used to do fairly easily in the past were now throwing me into great contortions of flinging and flailing. There was not one part of my body that was willing to bend, flex, or stretch, no matter how nicely I asked.

After I had spent a mere five minutes on the treadmill, going at a pace that very closely resembled the torpidity of a turtle, I felt like I was going to fall over, pass out, and/or have a nonfit fitness fit, right there in front of everybody.

And the day following my pitiful, mini non-workout? I felt woefully weak and wobbly all over, as if I had just complete the world's most difficult Triathlon after having climbed Mt. Everest.

And yet as hard as it is to work out at the gym, I do know that staying home and eating Little Debbie's is obviously not a solution. (Although I think that somewhere in a more perfect world, it really SHOULD be a solution.)

I told Steve how discouraging it was and he said to look at it another way. He said, "At least you know that when you exercise it makes a difference, because you can tell such a big difference when you don't!"

Which is true. But I still don't feel terribly encouraged.

I just mainly feel terrible.

I'm still dealing with Dad's death, still bursting into tears for no reason whatsoever, still longing for my pj's, still hankering after creamy, comforting carbs and yet STILL trying desperately to get a grip on stuff so that poor choices don't completely short circuit whatever good health I have remaining. With major inflexibility issues, muscle weakness, and lung disease, I really do need to stay as fit as I possibly can.

Of course, in addition to those aforementioned challenges, I have a huge life change coming up that will affect where I live, what friends I have, what friends Sarah will have, what house I will live in, my husband's ministry and career, our finances, and just about anything else you can imagine. (Not to mention the wonderful challenge of homeschooling my lovely daughter.)

Obviously, there's been a lot on my plate recently. Um. Both figuratively and literally.

So that's my confession for the day. I've lost muscle tone. I've lost strength. I've lost flexibility.

However, if we want to instead focus on what I have found, then I will tell you that I have found six pounds. Yup! I just turned around and there they were!

If any of you reading this morose missive today should have any words of wisdom, or encouragement, or cheer--or even a recipe for a low cal item of comfort-- I would be most grateful.

In the meantime, I shall take my torpid, turtle-esque self away and engage in some sort of terrific, torpid, turtle-esque activity. (Do turtles eat Little Debbie cakes?)


A Blog Recommendation
and General Rowdiness

I'll be writing more later but for now I just wanted to invite you to visit Sue who has written about a subject very dear to me.

A lot of you recognize Sue from her frequent comments here which are witty, hilarious, wise, and entertaining. And since you already know that you love her writing, you're gonna especially want to head on over to her site so that you can read some more of it.

Also, may I also just add that Sue and Mary H. (another frequent signer) have been known to show up in the comments section (pretending like they're going to comment) and then suddenly start to warble raucous songs together like, "By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea."

Now just you know, this is a song that I have never even heard of. I'm thinking it's possible that Sue and Mary are just pretending it's a real song so that they have an excuse to indulge in bouts of chaotic, blog disturbing rowdiness.

Sigh. I may have to turn this matter over to the Internet police.

Unless of course, they happen to be singing in tune. In which case, I'll just sit back and enjoy the entertainment.

Thanks to Sue and Mary and ALL of you whose comments (and occasional songs) really and truly brighten my day.

More later . . .