Notebooks and Tablets and Pads, OH MY!

Every morning I write three pages of stream of consciousness. I have been doing this for several years. I write in sprial notebooks. When one notebook is filled the beginning of another elicits a strange emotional experience. Opening the new spiral, I frequently will run my hand, lovingly, sensually, over the new, pristine, blank page. This page is an open invitation to all the new thoughts and gripes and longings that are coming into being. And so begins the next set of my pages.

I address sketchbooks and drawing pads in much the same way although I have done very little sketching or drawing of late. But I do have many awaiting pads. I especially like the ones with perforated pages because it is like the first new page each time one is opened

A brand new passion is my infatuation with the Moleskine notebooks. In fact I am among many who feel the same way over at the website dedicated to Moleskines. I began my involvement with them by purchasing the small cahiers. These come three in a package, blank, lined, or gridded and have an open pocket in the back. I have designated one to keep track of my "projects." I keep notes and glue in pictures as the project progresses. Another one I keep in my purse to keep track of sizes, shapes, and names of things: varius table sizes for tablecloth purchases, names of plants that attract hummingbirds, dimensions of a wine glass to complete a set, all the stuff I can't carry around in my head anymore. And the third one is in reserve, awaiting a purpose.

Emboldened by the success of the cahiers, I purchases an 80 page sketchbook Moleskine. These have the pocket in the back , a page marker ribbon, and an elastic band that holds it all together. In fact I splurged and bought TWO. The one that I unwrapped began as my "praying in color" notebook. Pilot G2 GeI pens are my color medium. I have added emotional thoughts along with the color prayers. But, of course, the really charged emotion was opening the Moleskine up to the first new page. It was almost like God, waiting to hear from me.

It seems that I have had this weird fetish since -- well, forever. New school notebook fillers, drawing pads, little note pads, anything with a fresh, new page. It is waiting. Just for me. An opening for my heart.

Crossword Puzzles

My dad did crossword puzzles. In ink. My sister, Jacquie, does them too. Don't know whether she does them in ink yet or not, but she does them. And she finishes them.

For some reason I was prompted to do the crossword a week ago Monday. I worked on it and I finished it. Monday's are easy. They get progressively more difficult as the week goes on. This Monday I was pulled to the crossword also. I cut it out of the local paper and worked on it and finished all but three squares. Tuesday's crossword I cut out also. I finished most of it, leaving the bottom left corner. Today? Forget it. I have a few words here and there -- and that is with the help of Google and the dictionary.

So why do I push myself to do this? Do I want to measure up to Dad? Do I want to compete successfully with Jacq? I hope that it is neither one of these things. I hope that it is just a digression from the routine. I hope that I can be content with being who I am.

Segway to Dad

This was to have been my Father's Day tribute but I was having a hard time figuring out the picture thing and an even harder time trying to formulate the sentiment.

My Dad was always interested in the innovative -- be it a new way to do something old or a new way to do something new. Of the former, he once built a vibraphone using aluminum bar stock for the sounding boards and paper towel tubes as the resonators. Genious! Real genious!

Dad was my hero in many areas. He was my original "outside the box" thinker. My first real teaching was "never the same river." I don't even remember the name of the book now, but the lesson for me at age ten was awesome. Dad learned about computers early on and was into e-mails when his old poop peers were doddering to their pill boxes. He did crossword puzzles daily.

When the first leaks about a new and innovative means of transport were first heard, Dad was on it -- before it was even named. He tracked down some of the early schematics and subsequently followed its progress. I don't remember if he lived to see a picture of a proto type, but he KNEW that it was going to work. And it has.

The point of this whole thing is that on Father's Day this year there was an "old car" show at our local park AND the Segway people had their models there for trial runs. Well, here I am. Here's to you, Dad. You knew.

OW

Some years ago, maybe twenty plus, my duaghter-in-law, Maureen, introduced me to the term "oh, well." I didn't like it then, I don't like it now. What it says about an issue is that it is out of my hands. There is NOTHING that I can do about it.

My sister, Jacquie, has initialized this phrase to "OW." Our e-mails to one another about friends, family, and social encounters are splattered with OWs. Somehow, that translates to me as the ow of ouch. Which pretty much says how I feel about it.


Our priest has introduced me to yet another term: "it is what it is." I don't like this either. Both of these terms call upon me to accept what is outside of my comfort field as something over which I have NO control -- and further that I need to accept that.


I think we all, yes, me too, want to have some control over what is happening in our own realm of creation. BUT, there are some things that just ARE. Like it or not, there it IS, or there they ARE. Much as I might want to offer a remedy, however much I want to make things better or 'right' it is just beyond my control.

Acceptance of the obviously uncontrollable is probably God's greatest challenge for me. I want things to be "right." But I also want them to be MY "right." Soooo, I am disappointed a lot and I am hurt a lot AND I am constantly humbled.

Garlic

Garlic is great! I love it ! I love it!

On a recent trip to CostCo, I discovered a fairly large container of dried garlic slices. We have tried the chopped garlic bottled in water and did not like it at all. I have seen jarred, peeled garlic but I would rather peel my own. I was really intrigued by the dried slices.

Last evening we made pizzas. I liberally sprinkled dried garlic slices under the sliced tomato and top layer of cheese. It was soooooo yummy. Howsomever, Bill was just on his way out and stopped by to give me a kiss and said that I smelled of garlic. BIG TIME!

What to do? I have to be at work in a couple of hours -- working very closely with others. What to do? Bill suggested mega mouth washes before brushing. Is that going to help? I doubt it. I seem to be one of those people who ooze the scent of garlic out of my pores. Yuk.

07-07-07

Couldn't let this day pass without acknowledging the number reiteration. I love these dates. Remember last year's -- in June of course. Looking to the future I hope to witness five more. That will take us to 12-12-12. Then the next one will be 01-01-01 and it will be the year 3001. I cannot even imagine the changes.

Will we be any closer to the Kingdom of God? Or will we still be fighting among ourselves? Will we have migrated to other planets? How will we have mutated? And how do those mutations fit being "created" in God's image. My own theology holds that creation is ongoing and therefore, mutation will be a part of that. So as creation continues in ongoing changes, so does the image of God.

OOooops! 122 Pounds

The scale hasn't hit 120 since March. Maybe the Philly Cheese Steak last evening did me in. OR perhaps it was the two Blue Moon beers. Hmmm. Beers. Doesn't look right. One beer, two beers? Seems like the plural of beer should be beer -- no "s." Oh, well, I digress.

I whipped out my Sanoma book and copied out the Phase One food lists. Will stay on the Phase One program until I get back down below 120. Weight Watchers strongly discourages checking the scales more than once a week. For me, this is just stupidity. So maybe the extra IS water. So what? Get rid of it. The weigh in every day works for me.

AND, this is the important part -- this works for ME. May not work for you or a kazillion other people. I am just saying that daily weigh ins keep me on track.

My mother was an inveterate dieter. Also an habitual exerciser. Mom was attractive, took good care of herself, and was proud of her looks. And rightly so. BUT, and here is the real stickler, she was always at me to be thinner. I got to believing that she would love me more if I was admirably thin. And this is stretching into my fortys and fiftys. I wasn't obese but I was always twenty to thirty pounds overweight. When my husband died in 1992 I weighed in at 175. Well, I guess that is a little more than twenty or thirty pounds. A few months of dinners consisting of vodka and popcorn brought me down to 135. I have since passed on the vodka, and with Sanoma, pass on the popcorn except for very special occasions.

Achieving my ideal weight AFTER Mom died was kind of a waker upper. Did I care? Initially, I said that it didn't matter. Then, after I lived with it for a bit, I realised that it DID matter. A lot. I wish she could see me the way she thought I should be. I wish she could see that I'm not any smarter and not any prettier. I wish she could have loved me for ME.

Sanoma Dieting

I started on the Sanoma diet May 1, 2006 at 153 pounds. I was a real stickler and adhered to the first ten day regime. On the eleventh day I started adding in the allowed foods. The nutrition plan is set up so that any idot can follow it. Works for me.

Along about mid-July Bill and I went on vacation to Tennessee. I weighed in at 142. I followed the breakfast and lunch guidelines but relaxed on afternoon beers and bread at supper. Wine too. Potatoes once or twice. Upon our return ten days later I was at 144.5. Not bad. And cutting back to the eating plan was easy with an occasional beer and hamburger on a Friday evening.

By October when I visited my sister, Jacquie, in Indiana I was at 127. This was almost the six month mark. I had dropped from squeezing myself into size fourteens to a size 12/10. The twelves were comfy, the tens fit nicely.

I could never have done this without the participation and support of the people in my workplace. Diane started on the diet that March and when we began to notice her weight loss, asked how she was doing it. "The Sanoma Diet" by Dr. Connie Guttersen, R.D., Ph.D. was purchased and read by several of us. In fact we joked about buying a case of them to hand out to patients who came into the office who were obviously in need of some sort of nutritional guidance -- translate that as being FAT.

Diane tried some of the recipes in the book and raved about their ease of preparation and marvelous taste. I was too lazy and stuck to plain food. But then, Bill and I were eating separate diets and we needed to keep it simple. The one thing that I did try was quinoa (keen-wa). This is a very tasy little grain that is high in protein and easy to prepare. Bill likes too.

I am happy to report that I am now into a size eight weighing in at between 121.5 and 117. I wiegh myself daily and keep a record on graph paper taped to the bathroom door. If I go over 120 I know to cut back or portions or food choices, if I get to 117 I know to relax a little.

It has been a wonderful journey. It is a good eating plan. It is my intention to follow the plan for the remainder of my life.

Look it up; try it out; be healthy.

Happy Birthday, Heather

The youngest of my sister's children was born on my husband's birthday. This made it easier for a forgetful aunt to remember the day -- although I haven't always. Now she is all grown up, a single mom, struggling in the world to make a place for heself and her two lively, young daughters.

I am extremely proud of this young woman. Heather has grown through some outrageous stages that her mother and I despaired of her surviving, let alone the two of us. But she is much the better for the growth and the experience. Her life is still a struggle but when I visit I am uplifted by her spirit and her determination.

Here's to you, Heather. And may you have many, many more.