Back on the Chart Games

I have lost weight! Not a ton, but enough to fit in a pair of my “fat” skinny jeans. This was the pair I tried on after my Weighing In entry when I was completely befuddled about the highest number I’d seen for a long time. After a little over two weeks, I weigh about five pounds less. I attribute it to two things. The first is embarrassing to state, but I will because I want to be truthful. To put it mildly, I was PMSing. This is something that rarely happens to me anymore, if you know what I mean. So I realize that part of my downer mood about weight gain two weeks ago was partly due to water retention. The second is the crux of this particular entry. I had to re-learn how to eat properly.

For more years than I’m willing to admit. I really didn't have to pay as close attention to eating perfectly balanced meals, and the goal in my brain, was usually to keep myself feeling hungry. I would wait until my stomach growled to eat. That was the best way for me to keep track of when to eat – when I felt hungry. I felt hungry a lot! Now that I am in my fifties, that strategy had stopped working. I needed to find a more effective way.

Determined to figure out why my weight was getting out of control, I began sleuthing it out by logging into my Kaiser Permanente member page. I was looking for a table that depicted what was a healthy weight for me was, in this stage of my life. In my quest, I discovered many interesting health assessments to help me figure out what I was doing wrong! It was actually fun filling out some of their forms and fiddling with the interactive tools. In the end, I opted to complete their total health assessment. Then I started branching out to see what else might be at my fingertips, and since I have several iDevices, I decided to look for apps (even more fun).

I found several, but the best of them is not just an app, it’s also a website that is available to anyone for free, and it’s called, MyNetDiary. It was this wonderfully designed place on the web that was the golden key to my weight loss lock out. It turns out that people who take the time to report (or log) their food intake, exercise, and weight, are the most likely ones to lose weight. Since I just wanted to stop gaining weight, I decided to try it out, and guess what? It worked. I didn’t change anything else. I just started reporting. Now I am NOT starving anymore, and I feel better. It is a huge relief.

There was one more thing worth noting from that day. I discovered a silly app that was free called, Eat This Not That. While it may be true that this app promotes fast food restaurants, it’s worth mentioning. Playing this game made me laugh, and also showed me that not all fast food items on the menu are bad. Seriously, I would have chosen to skip a meal, which I have learned is not a good idea, than eat fast food. It turns out, there are some healthy fast food choices out there, and this app taught me how to find them. The bottom line: what began as a quest to maintain my weight has become a success story in losing it. 

The Morning After Christmas

This was the first holiday season without my daughter living under my wing. I say under my wing because she has lived away from home, but she is a grown woman now, living in San Francisco with a significant other. The association we once shared has taken several shifts, yet I still feel so very fortunate to have this magnificent woman in my life.  She is my only daughter, and my love for her is fierce. I can remember when she was born and I looked into her eyes for the first time, there was a sort of recognition. I recall thinking, she seems like she knows who I am. I can’t wait to get to know who she is. It felt like she was sending me her love directly to my heart. I knew then, as I continue to know now, she would always be a very special person to me. And I was correct.

I don’t want to get into any of the specifics, because it might diminish my daughter’s pure, unadulterated wish to give me the gift I wanted most. I simply want to note that last year’s celebrations were practically nonexistent for my children, my husband, and me. Suffice it to say that my mother, father, and sister have outcast my husband and myself from all family gatherings. In order for my children to be able to celebrate in any family festivities, my husband and I must bow out.

But now we are back from our road trip, and I had grown content to have a peaceful gathering in my home with my own children and their loved ones. I wished to spend most of the day with them, sitting around chatting, doing puzzles, playing video games, maybe going to a movie, hearing the sounds of our piano as they intermingled with the scent of the turkey and all the fixings… but she had other plans. The night before, knowing full well that there would be plenty of food and merrymaking to share, she set out to persuade my mother, father, and sister into coming to visit my home, as a surprise celebration. I can envision those beautiful baby brown eyes sparkling with delight as she concocted the thought, and gave everything she had into bringing it to pass.

Early yesterday evening she finally arrived at my house, cheerful, filled with holiday spirit, and even a little earlier than we had originally planned for an intimate family gathering. We shared a lovely visit, a delicious meal, the kindest sharing of gifts, and a brief drive around to view the holiday lights. Although she was not able to convince the others to join her, the potential was there. The time I spent with her went by quickly, but it was the best few hours I’ve had in a long time. She left us with the belief that someday we will again be included in the family. But more than that, she left me feeling more loved than I’ve felt in a very long time. 

Ewok Adventure

How was the trip? I was asked by one of my California relatives, who I recently connected with for a holiday viewing of the Nutcracker by the San Francisco Ballet. “We are calling it the Ewok Adventure,” I stated. She looked at me, puzzled.

Have you ever heard of a town called, Leavenworth? It’s a cute little Bavarian town that is located just outside of East Wentachee. Every weekend there is something to do. We decided to take dad on an outing there as a sort of grand finale to our Wenatchee visit. It was in Leavenworth that I picked up my "ewok" wrap.

The story about the wrap is worth mentioning. We were shopping under the big white tent in the Leavenworth town square when I stumbled upon a table with about a dozen of various types of faux fur hoodies. Wanting to support the town’s economy, I asked the salesman how much for the mitten and hood combination wrap. He said they were $20 including tax. This caused me to think they must have been handmade, I guess because of the round figure, so I asked another question. Did you make these?

He stated that he did. It was a tipping point for me and I grabbed a twenty out of my wallet and thrust it at the guy. “Sold.” I said.  I put it on, modeled for a picture and basically looked silly for most of the Washington trip (hence the title, Ewok Adventure). After I bought it though, I noticed a tag up near the top of the hooded part. I thought it might say something about who made the wrap. I usually cut out tags. I find them uncomfortable and annoying, but since it was handmade, I considered allowing the tag to remain intact.

Much later after a long day of shopping and merry making I couldn’t resist taking out the scissors and cutting off that tag - feeling a little sad for the person who had put in the time to sew it on, but justified in my hatred for tags in general. I looked closer for a name, thinking I might keep it as a memento. The label read, Made in China.

The 14th Again

As our nation grieves over what happened in Newtown, I can’t shake the thought that my own personal catastrophe was so miniscule by comparison. There is a part of me that is intimate with the denial, shock, and despair that follows after a small helpless living being gets taken away because of a random act of violence. There is another part of me that understands first hand what it might be like to have a gunman on the school grounds, because I am a teacher. Even though the event occurred on the opposite side of the country, it still hit close to home, and after hearing about that awful moment that occurred on Friday, the 14^th of December, it saddened me to tears. My heart is still grieving for ALL of the families it hurt.

My heartfelt sorrow goes out to the parents and family members who lost their little ones. My most earnest wish is that they will all be able to enjoy Christmas again someday, and that the love they have for those who were lost keeps them moving forward instead of letting it stop them in their tracks, as grief over the lost life of a child so often does. In addition, I hope they experience a profound sense of peace and calm in their hearts and minds whenever they think of those little ones, and may they rediscover peace and joy in their hearts very soon, if not today.

Random acts of violence happen so rapidly and without warning. It is within the senselessness that we are challenged to overcome. It is difficult to wake up after something like this happens. The reality is that heroes emerge out of the strength that follows after such a tragedy. These heroes foster a strong sense of faith and a steadfast belief that there IS good being performed out there every day. These are the people who take the time to focus on the good in the world. The ones who know that moving forward in a positive way instead of harboring depression, guilt, helplessness, and anger is the best course of action. I believe that this is the path our loved ones would want us to take. There is peace in that thought, and it grows and spreads easily.

When I heard a local Rabbi say that the gunman was bullied severely as he grew up, it solidified a concept I’ve been trying to spread. I believe kindness is the richest gift we can bestow to each other. It reverberates so many ways, and it doesn’t have to be a grand gesture of kindness either; a simple smile can change someone’s day. For example, when I was recently traveling through Northern California, I met a young man who was probably a lot like that gunman from this past Friday. He was thin, had a shaved head, an angry look on his face, and a tattoo on his forehead that basically stated back off – only it was a different four letter word. When I met him I was bored, thirsty, and my bones ached from sitting in a car for a day and a half, so I went into a grocery store and ordered a coffee and stretched while I waited.

It was he who engaged me into conversation. He recognized that I was stretching and commented that he’d felt stiff in his neck sometimes. We made small talk for a little while, but I couldn’t resist trying to discover why anyone would mark himself in such a way, so I inquired why. He attributed it to a poor lifestyle and jail. After a bit of probing, I learned that he’d been punished severely for shoplifting, and after that his life had gone downhill fast. 

The truth is I was too afraid to engage very long with him, but on my way out, I asked him if he was hungry, and I gave him money for food when he said he was. This brought gentleness to his face, and he raised his mirrored sunglasses to make eye contact and express his gratitude. I was plainly moved to tears as I walked away. My heart felt warm, and once again I found myself wondering why? I realized in that moment… Even if we wonder why, we don’t HAVE to know the answer. We really don’t even need it.  We are merely supposed to keep moving forward believing in the excellence of humanity and that the kindness of strangers will surely follow.

The Celebrity Welcome

This Thanksgiving my husband and I decided to take a road trip to visit his relatives that are scattered around Washington. His father is now 82, and lives in Wenatchee at a quiet residence called Columbia Heights, his brother and sister live several blocks away, and he has another brother who has settled in Seattle. This trip began a couple of days before the holiday, and we returned about a week and a half later. We both love to take this road trip. It is a long way from home, but we enjoy long conversations in the car and we love to take the puppy dogs. We’ve done it so many times now, I’ve lost count… but we’ve never done a road trip to visit his family for the holidays.

The drive through California was really nice because we didn’t hit a lot of rain until Portland. We also had a lovely visit with my nephew, who is currently a resident of Eugene, and our Ducks are an enduring topic of conversation, so it was fun catching up with him. But before we left, we hadn’t taken into account how the rain would affect us. The drive went uphill, so to speak, after Eugene.

I learned quickly that stopping at rest stops in Oregon was NOT as fun as it was during the summer months. The dampness made the bathrooms smell rank, and it seemed to carry into our car the farther we traveled. It seemed like we drove non-stop from Eugene to Multnomah Falls, which was more spectacular from the road this time, but not as fun to visit. There were more waterfalls than I can ever recall, but by this time it was so rainy that we couldn’t stay long, and they had the same moisture problem in their bathrooms, so we pushed on.

Another thing we didn’t account for was light. I instinctively knew to give my hens more light over the Winter months, not just so they can see for long enough to get adequate nutrition throughout the day, but also because it supposedly helps them to continue with their egg laying. But it wasn’t exactly a surprise when we realized, at around 4:30 p.m. traveling up Blewitt Pass on US 97 in the rain, that it would soon get cold and dark and begin to snow. I am so glad that I did not have to drive over this pass! Suffice it to shout that it was an awful day of driving in the rain and snow, and I will not even go into the frustration we felt when we had to wait over 30 minutes at a complete stop for some sort of infrastructure repairs. 

When we finally arrived in Wenatchee, Washington, exactly two days after we left California, much later than we had projected, damp, stiff, and grumpy, it felt appropriate to receive an overwhelming welcome by about fifteen or so seniors with smiles, hugs, and laughter. Our dogs were a HUGE draw from the start, and dad had arranged for us to stay in our own, private, “model” at the residence. It was impossible not to let go of the blues and gain some new perspective on this day before Thanksgiving. In fact, I think we both felt a little like celebrities. 

Weighing The Evidence

I struggle with my self-image everyday. When I get up in the morning, after a stretch and a cup of tea, I weigh in. It is a ritual that I have practiced since I was a teenager. Some days it has been easy. Those are the days when I wake up feeling a bit hungry, and I know that the number will be down. Other days are a little more difficult. Those are the days like the ones after Thanksgiving. I wake up feeling full from the night before, and I know the number on the scale will be up. When I was younger, even a few years ago when Hardy was alive, I could still win that battle. I’d just work out harder the day after a binge, skip the snacking and dessert, and things would simply take care of themselves. Today, that number almost knocked me down.

I know it’s not rocket science, but I simply can’t seem to win this battle anymore. I seem to do nothing but gain and gain and gain. Almost everyday the number on the scale goes up. Yet it seems almost impossible these days to get it down. I work out almost everyday. I eat healthy foods in appropriate portions. I skip desserts, rarely snack, and I drink soda water with my meals. Nothing prepares me for the failure I feel each morning, when I KNOW I should be losing weight, and I don’t. I GAIN! It is really discouraging.

I was watching an interview on OWN the other day, the one with Sally Field promoting her newest film where she gets to play Mary Todd Lincoln. It was a role that required her to gain quite a bit of weight, and yet when Oprah sat down to talk with her, she was downright skinny. Oprah asked her how the she got the weight off after filming for the role, and she whimpered, “I’m so hungry!”

I am hungry too. I am hungry as I write this (my stomach is growling). I am hungry when I go to bed, and hungry when I weigh in first thing in the morning. I cannot get that number on the scale to go down. What am I doing wrong? I think to myself. I remember judging other women who have said these same words to me, statements like the ones that I’ve just written, and can remember shaking my head and thinking inwardly they were not being honest with themselves. They must be cheating, I would think. Today I feel sorry I ever thought that. Today I know that there are many factors that go into weight gain AND loss.

Instead of going into what I think the solutions are, because clearly I do not know, I want to promote one thought. While we are all reflections of what we eat, we must all learn to appreciate what we look like and accept ourselves for who we are. TODAY.  Most of my life, until now, people have often told me that I look healthy and beautiful. I regret to report that I didn’t hear it. I look at photos from back then, and I think I looked fabulous back then, but I didn’t think so at the time. Make today the day you embrace yourself for all of your unique qualities, even if that number isn’t what you wanted to see. We are alive. We live in a free country. We are wonderful, just the way we are! 

Food for Thought

Back in March 2011, I acquired the cutest little chicks. I had been thinking about getting chickens for some time, but I didn’t have the wherewithal to do it. Anyone who has experienced a brush with death, however, knows that wherewithal comes all of a sudden from nowhere. Life simply seems worth the effort to do everything you dream or wish for, so I got the chicks. They cost about $3 a piece at the local feed store, and like any novice, I thought it would be easy and cheap. Plus it is so trendy to have your own backyard, free-range egg layers.

At first they were adorable, but that only lasts for about two weeks, and then they look awkward for quiet awhile. That is, until they become pullets (adolescent hens with all of their adult feathers). That’s when their flight feathers need to be clipped, because like owning a poorly trained puppy, they get into everything. They eat everything in the garden except for pungent shrubby bushes; they scratch the ground everywhere and dig up things like strawberries or any other seedling they can find. And they poop! Everywhere. That’s why they need to be kept in the coop. Poop and predators, but that’s another story.

Popular slang phrases start becoming interesting and begin to make sense… hen pecked… flew the coop… cleaned the sh out of it… running around like a chicken with your head cut off, come to mind. These phrases start to be observable actions, although I can’t say that I’ve seen a chicken with their head cut off. I have seen them unearth a worm, prance around dangle it like a prize, and then get chased around for over five minutes until it seems like they’ve all forgotten why they are running because oftentimes the worm doesn’t even get consumed. They are MEAN to each other, and to cats and other pesky rodents. They peck HARD, and sometimes they tenaciously defend themselves quite successfully. I have seen them peck a snake to death, and I have heard that chickens will play the same worm game on smaller snakes too.

Then they begin to lay those “golden” eggs! Backyard free-range eggs are particularly good. Just like a garden fresh tomato, they taste uniquely different from the ones in the store. They have the same flavor, only more so. The shells are super hard, there’s more white, and the yolks are smaller and a neon orange color. They are simply delicious any way they are prepared. They rise better when used in baking and scrambled they fluff brilliantly. In our case, the eggs began coming in August. They came steadily, about four a day, until January, but from that point forward, it became a new game.

When they begin to lay, they are considered full grown, and they become a little more high maintenance, probably because after getting a large quantity of their little gems, it becomes almost an obsession to get more. Guess what? They don’t lay them in the winter, and they don’t lay them when they are cold, and they don’t lay them when they are stressed. They also don’t lay them when they’re undernourished, or when they're sick, or when they don’t have enough places to hide. And lastly, they don't lay eggs when they're molting – which they do every year in the Fall after the first year. 

Then Spring comes, and the dry spell is over. There is a reason we call them “Easter Eggs.” The hens lay so many eggs in Spring that eggs may be found on the ground hidden under bushes, chairs, baskets, or corners of the coop. One time there was an egg stuck to back of my hen. I had to pull it out. That is actually a way they can get sick, if they get blocked up. Again, another story. Just know Spring is the best time for eggs and chicks.

My opinions about possessing egg laying backyard hens have changed many times since the birds were first acquired. Now I have a new opinion, and it is probably very controversial, but here goes. I think chicks were meant to be acquired in the Spring to watch them grow, because it’s something no “child” will ever forget. It’s truly awe-inspiring. Next enjoy the eggs because they come really good the first year. After that they molt (loose their feathers). I believe this is when they should be eaten. They don't even require plucking. Finally, rest up for Spring, and then go back to the local feed store, and pick up four new chicks (if your town allows a Rooster, you may get to skip this step). My way you get the fun AND the flavor.

 

The bottom line: Adult chickens are not as productive in the egg laying process as one may think. 

Trout in the Classroom

Around this time of year, when I worked as a full time teacher, I would begin thinking about how I would make a classroom aquarium educational program called, Trout in the Classroom (TIC) something that my students would not easily forget. TIC is a fun science project that takes over 6 weeks to complete. It’s something I’ve enjoyed doing for many years now, and this will be my first year to miss out, thanks to that day which shall not be mentioned. Yes, Aunt Dorothy, the repercussions still echo in my daily life.

So it begins in December with a recruitment push by the California Department of Fish and Game and ends at a regional park, in my area Shadow Cliffs, to release the freshly hatched, healthy baby trout (aka: fry). Even the parent chaperones laugh and watch in delight as we all watch our little babies swim away, out into the world of the bigger, predatory trout, and the catch and release fly fishermen. It takes about 5 to 6 weeks from start to finish, but the educational opportunities are endless.  Teacher outreach with this program is popular because the project is easily shared with other classes. One year, I actually had a parent complain to me that he was extremely disappointed that I had switched my “buddy” class from Kindergarteners to 5^th Graders and that would disrupt the "trout" field trip for his family.  

I have planned for several different hands-on activities to go with the TIC program, for example: the obvious life cycle poster type science project.  But my absolute favorite lesson required the students to observe the life cycle, and literally interpret it into a poem - once a week.  My second graders and their Kindergarten buddies were creating such beautiful poetry and illustrations it even surprised me.  In fact, some of the poetry was so good we ultimately decided to make simply bound booklets to showcase our writing.  It also became the art project I chose to share at the District Office that year, and was a huge display at Open House. A little side note: The aforementioned parent who had complained was actually referring to this project and wanted his Kindergarten son and second grade son to be able to participate together. I still marvel at the memory, and wish I had samples to post here. There is a lot of letting go in teaching, yes?

Observing the proper habitat for the eggs, and eventually the hatchlings, is super important. In addition to not receiving too much light, there are pumps and filters (to keep the water moving like a river) and coolers (to keep the water at a constant cool temperature around 55 degrees). Because of this, the classroom aquarium becomes a way to allocate positive reinforcement. After exhibiting excellent behavior, many of the students were allowed special privileges, like being in the first group to view the fish when it came time to observe, or helping to scoop out the fry when it was time to leave for the field trip. Every year, there were a handful of students who simply could not stop themselves from being fascinated by the process. But more than anything, the TIC program provides the students with the opportunity to care for and learn about our environment and our water. 

Bentley

Our latest addition to the family is Bentley. He was adopted only two short months ago. Here's the story...

I went to visit Aunt Dorothy and she has a new little doggie too, Penny. Roxie and Penny hit it off so well that I decided to go on a search for a little brother or sister doggie. Roxie has really hit a wall in her rehab. She won't stop barking at our sweet neighbors or anyone else under the age of 18. She is still scared of most things, but she doesn't flinch when someone tries to pet her, so that's good. Don't get me wrong, she has improved dramatically. In short, I thought she just looks so lonely all the time. So I when I returned from visiting my aunt, I decided to check out Petfinder, who it turns out has a cool app, just like Blogger did, thank you very much.

Who would have thought that I would come up with my ideal doggie the very day I installed that Petfinder's app? Seriously. I had an idea about what I wanted - either a tea cup poodle, like Penny, or a Yorkshire Terrier. I've always wanted a Yorkie. So I searched for both, and it turned out that right here at our local shelter was indeed a Yorkie, named Bentley. I logged out immediately, went directly to the shelter, and there he was. Poor baby. He was tiny, spunky, intelligent, and grossly underweight. But he was cute to me. I could see a healthy Yorkie in there somewhere, and it was love at first sight.

Because of our county ordinances, I was not allowed to take Bentley home that day. To adopt a pet from our county shelter it must first be spayed or neutered, and the neuter has to be done by the SPCA next door. So I had to wait about a week to get the surgery and bring Bentley home, but it worked out. I was able to visit him every day, and I brought him food! I think I put at least a half a pound on him before he had his surgery, and he came out of it happy as ever.

It was obvious after about 5 minutes that day... Roxie and Bentley would become great buddies. They were fast friends, often playing all day both inside and outside the house. As Bentley gained weight, lazy Roxie was losing it. Best of all, Bentley was already potty trained. Don't get me wrong, Bentley came with a few bad habits - play biting for one. Why do people teach their dogs to bite your hands while playing? Not good. It teaches dogs that it is ok to bite a human. Dogs get put to sleep for biting humans. Also, why do people play French kissy face with their dogs? Yetch. We have all seen where that mouth/nose has been.

Bentley is an excellent addition to our pet family, which now consists of: 1Miniature Schnauzer, 1 Yorkshire Terrier, 2 Blue Cochin hens, and 2 Well Summer hens. All of them are currently thriving, I would like to add. Now all we need to do is start working on the humans. Only kidding. I am happy to report that I am doing quite well, and that our marriage has survived and is better than ever. Yes, we have moved on, but like a parent who has lost a child, we will never forget our Hardy boy.

Home Again

"You look like a kid who just found an old toy," says my husband as I fiddle with my new iPad to try and work with my old blog from back in the day. There has GOT to be an app for this. I think as I am reduced to my new hunt and peck typing style. I swear Steve Jobs was a hunt and peck typer. Who cares... I'M BACK! Why did she stop blogging? You may be wondering. In a two words... legal advice. Even while experiencing all of the pain and heartache I was going through, during what was most likely THE most difficult time in my life, I was advised to stop, and keep a journal instead. I did for some time, but it wasn't the same. I experienced some serious strides, as well as some extreme setbacks. Now here I am again, ever the survivor. I can not continue at this point on the pad though, I'm off to locate that app.