Tomatoes, Planes, and Empty Nests

Wow, I must apologize for such a long pause in the blogging business. I have very good reasons but, alas, remorse as well.

Just as summer came to the Northwest I broke my right ankle. I wish I could tell you That was the end of my adventures in the recliner but it wasn't.

Two weeks ago I finaly had a lump removed off of my left heel. No cancer. I was pretty sure there wasn't any cancer before because I remember stepping on a piece of glasss in 2010. The lump was likely my body trying to surround that piece of glass with scar tissue to make it easier to walk on, it didn't.

Recovery has been rough for a few reasons just one of them being that I am overweight withoutthe upper body strength to lift myself up from a sitting position to a standing position without the help of both legs. During recovery I can not put any of my weight on the left foot.

Walking is a big deal.

Amen? Yes, amen.

It never occured to me prior to surgery that I would need special support to get out of a chair, or use the restroom. I am so thankful for my devoted hubster who asked the right questions and within a few hours I had everything I needed. I am truly thankful.

During this time my garden hit harvest, thus the tomato aroma in my home, my son and daughter moved to Arizona, and my little dogs moved outside. There will be two more large changes in my future that the mere anticipation thereof has me up tomight.

My grandaughter will also be moving to Arizona. Andi was born just 30days before I was diagnosed with Breast cancer for the second time. As a chemo patient I can't tell you how amazing it was to hold her, kiss her little head and make her smile - it was life affirming love!

I got through treatment ~ she turned 1!

I got stronger and lost weight ~ she turned 2!

We all went through a family crisis ~ she turned 3!

Now, a new job, a new life, and she'll be so far away. Our friends may enjoy the break from weekly photo floods on facebook, but I will be trying to figure out how to take a screen shot of a skype conversation that made me cry. Because I will cry. I cried tonight.

God help me, I know there are people with problems that are real problems. I have a roof over my head, food in the fridge, family and friends. I am not afraid of being cold this winter, or of losing my house or having my car reposessed.

I am afraid of this feeling of not knowing who I am if I am not my kids' mom, or Andi's grandma. And yes, I know I am still those things but without the duties of either it seems empty today.

I am afraid I am now going to spend the rest of my years paying for taking improper care of this vessel, and that the price will be discomfort, embarrassment and likely pain.

So tonight, as the house is filled with the pungent aroma of slow cooked homegrown tomatoes, I am up. Sharing my thoughts with you.

I thought about flight today, and how it's so different from jumping. No matter how long you are in the air, or from what you have been launched, jumping is not flying. And, . .

No matter how short of a flight, it is flying when it has all the components of flight. The Wright brothers first flight was merely seconds, but boy it was quite different from a jump, it changed the world.

When we recognize the components of flight, in the simplest terms, as lift and drag, we can see how a jump attempts to have those, but always obtains them separately. When one is launched it is lift, then when gravity takes over it is drag.

But flight, oh flight is something different. Flight maintains both lift and drag simultaneously. The combination of the two creates flight. Take one away midflight and you might maintain "air" for a certain amount of time but just as in a jump you will begin to fall. You are no longer flying you are falling. 

I am sure that I will discover more about flight as I ponder lift and drag but what I am seeing right now is: Both elements are needed to fly in this life. It is easy to think of things that can be analagous to drag: empty nesting, getting older, broken ankles, etc. Lift, I am not as sure, but admiting to my puny understanding I will say: worship, serving others, prayer, reading the bible, maybe even the smell of homegrown tomatoes becoming pasta sauce, and love.

Embrace the lift and drag of life with the right perspective and flight is achieved.

This I believe, thanks for reading, New Geri






 

Starting with a Protein Big Train

https://www.bigtrain.com/t-protein-mix-powder-fit-frappe.aspx

Put A Little Love In Your Heart

Think of your fellow man
Lend him a helping hand
Put a little love in your heart

You see it's getting late
Oh please don't hesitate
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see

Another day goes by
And still the children cry
Put a little love in you heart
If you want the world to know
We won't let hatred grow
Put a little love in your heart

And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Wait and see

Take a good look around
And if you're lookin' down
Put a little love in your heart
I hope when you decide
Kindness will be your guide
Put a little love in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Put a little love in your heart
Put a little love in your
Love in your heart

One of my little dogs is "special" we've always known that. She was born with only one eye but has some kind of tissue holding the place for the missing one and it looks weird. She has a few other quirks and we have gotten used to them.

Recently we have decided to empty our loft room (another story - that's kinda funny) Anyhoo we rearranged the furniture to take up half of the living room to make room for going through stuff from upstairs.


Background info sufficiently bored you?

Our other little dog, her brother, has always had trouble jumping - sometimes inbred pups have hip problems (we suspect he's his own grampa)  so to help him get up we have a little stool. The stool has been working out fine for a couple years. Oh, there has been a few times when our granddaughter has used the stool and left it too far from the chair and we find him sitting on the stool in the middle of the room just staring at the abyss mystified that he used to be able to jump to the chair from this very stool.


Now she is having trouble jumping up. But will not use the stool. WILL NOT USE THE STOOL. It is as if she can not see it. Or worse like it is the reason she cant jump! Aaaagh!

So while I am thinking of my fellow man, and how I can give him a helping hand, I must put a little love in my heart for this dog with special needs and figure out how to get her to use the stool.

And here it is folks! The reason these two seemingly disconnected topics connect.


Sometimes a helping hand is a gift. Just handing someone in need that which they need.


They are broke - you hand them cash.


They are hungry - you give them food.


They are lonely - you visit them.


Sometimes a helping hand is sharing a tool they need. But tools are only helpful when used, and used appropriately. So at that point you may need to invest in some time to teach them how to use that tool. I suppose, if you yourself are unable to teach "tool 101" you should direct your fellow man to where they can find someone who can. 


So while I am housebound - broken ankle, short story - I may just spend sometime teaching a special need doggy how to use a stool. You, on the other hand can choose to help your fellow man however you see fit. 


May God bless you in your endeavors!

Thanks for reading, New Geri

HARE AND NOO

 I enjoy speaking with different accents.

Even more than I like to read them. Writing them so people can read them is a gift. My attempt at 'here and now' for the title, is meant to be low scottish. Atleast in my head.

I remember watching a Dharma&Greg episode where Dharma used a german accent and went shopping at the mall. If it didn't feel like lieing I would probably have SO much fun doing that!

I had a part in 'OKLAHOMA' when the music department presented it in high School. After that I had a difficult time not slipping into a drawl when I spoke. If I got excited I would add the 'L' in talk and walk. We did 'My Fair Lady' the following year and I could even add a drawl to the cockney accent.  I would blame it on being born in Texas although that little fact had nothing to do with it. I learned to talk in the Pacific Northwest. As everyone here knows, we do not have an accent. ;)

I find it interesting that accents can say something about you. Much like the story line in My Fair Lady, how we talk affects how we are treated. Often how we behave as well.

I find that when I speak with a british accent ~ (which is actually a muddle of British - Irish - Scottish with a dash of foolish arrogance derived from American TV) ~ I automatically raise my chin a bit, and throw my shoulders back. No wonder they call it the Queen's english.

I am wondering about speaking more positively. I have thought about this before.

It isn't a new idea. I lived through a period of denying what I see with my eyes in order to bring about what I hoped for in my heart. I believe there is a balance in this but I could not seem to find it. When I denied I was sick, it then felt like lieing to ask for healing. When I miscarried I had no where to put the grief. The words of comfort from others: "It was just a bunch of tissue","you can have another one", sounded just like the words of an abortion counselor ~ it creeped me out a bit.


Words.

I do believe we must look for the bright side of things. I believe this deep inside my heart.

Can I find a new way to speak? Can I change my words? Day to day, I know it is possible. What if kindness was an accent? Think about it . . . if there was a country where the language used the same basic words as was familiar, but there was just an accent that "sounded" kind. Then I could just learn how they speak, sound the words out the way they do, mimic them. sigh.

That is probably why I love old movies. The language of the day was softer, more kind than our language is today.

Maybe, I mean manners.

Please, Thank you, You're welcome, Pardon me*; sweet sounding isn't it ?

I went to the funeral of a dear woman. It was exactly how I would want my services to be, and I said so to a fellow sarcasm artist who raised his eyebrows as if to say,"you?".

"Well, she was alot nicer than I am, but maybe I have time to . ." I tapered off. I am sure he has forgotten the moment - not me.

So, maybe I have time to change and maybe I don't but I have to try. So this is my plan:

~ Implement the use of 'mannerly' language. see above*

~ Put the feelings (& ears) of others first.

~ Hear (listen to, read) more kind words. (kind in = kind out)

~ Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. Phillipians 4:8,9

Killing Luigi

I am not a big "gamer".

I have not been very good at most video games.

I do remember an electronic football game coming out when I was in Junior college. It was handheld. It had these little red and blue lights that looked like dashes. The dashes were configured to represent offense and defense. I was pretty good at that by the male competitors I managed to SLAUGHTER! BWAHAHAHAHA!

But, alas, it wasn't Madden.

I remember playing Mario Bros/Duck hunt with my son when he was 3.

Three years old.

He couldn't tie his shoes yet.

He barely had the Velcro mastered.

I would sit down to play. Kill Luigi. He'd take a twenty minute turn. Then wake me up. I would take the controller. Kill Luigi. He'd yell, "Dad, mom's not playing right!"

I laugh now. But it hurt. So the first thing I tried was practicing when he wasn't around. Right, when is a three year old NOT around? And even when he wasn't around he could sense a disturbance in the force as soon as someone put the cartridge into the game console!

The next idea was to have another baby.Keep mama busy. It really was a great idea and it's worked out wonderfully, however, . . .it only kept me out of the game for so long. Then I learned: I needed to play games where I was playing against myself - like TETRIS.(WARNING I have long since suspected that the TETRIS music has some kind of hypnotic capabilities or that prolonged exposure could cause migraines) 

Competing against myself, I could go for a high score instead of beating an opponent. Okay, I really don't know what difference that makes but I just don't do well with head to head competition. I wish that wasn't true. I judge it in myself as immaturity and have often hoped I would just grow up someday.

I still do.

 Growing up requires a sort of unpacking at each level. I use the word level because it segways from video games nicely. It is not used as a higher-lower comparison as in: I am smarter, more spiritual or farther along than anyone.

I don't want to be too philosophical but sometimes material things hold you back and you have to let them go to move forward.

One time I had to sell my piano in order to have the full down payment on our next home. We were going to move one way or another but if I hadn't sold my piano - we would have been terribly crowded in the RV and deeper in debt. So to move forward "with peace" we had to let go of the piano.

Other times it's people.

******Reserve the right to refuse service to ANYONE******

I made vows to love ONE person for better or worse and it takes up most of my time energy and patience to keep THAT one set of vows. I didn't make a vow to the person  who antagonizes me into debates on truth and mysticism and whether or not eating meat is murder. UGH!

We both know we DO NOT AGREE on these points but that is ALL they want to talk about so . . .

Seriously, I wish I could calmly debate and argue using scripture without my blood pressure getting whacked out, and supplying extra oxygen to the part of my brain that creates sarcastic remarks and cutting retorts. I dislike myself when I get like that.

It's like the incredible hulk - "I won't like me when I'm angry" or frustrated or sarcastic and bitter - Hey feel free to stop me!

If they need me I'll be here. If they call I'll answer the phone.

But I can't engage anymore.

Right now.

Then there are the people who break my heart. The ones that are walking into a burning house - and I can't stop them. I want so to convince them going in is a bad idea but I know anything I say will offend.

I will be here with burn salve. I will help rebuild the house.

But I can't watch it burn.

It seems at each area of growth in my life, I have had to leave friends behind in order to go to the next area. It isn't always the kind of leaving behind that is permanent. For example when many of my high school friends went away to college I made new friends and didn't keep in close contact with the high school gang as much. But when we all started getting married and having babies I was getting calls for showers, and parties, and asked to sing at a fair amount of weddings. Friendships were re-kindled and maintained.

Obviously, those are the happy endings.

I expect there are other un-friendings that will be permanent. I can't imagine not being a little sad about that.

So tonight I am inspired because I un-friended someone on FB. And it feels great!!!

Maybe I could fast and pray because, "this kind only comes out after much prayer and fasting" . It's not like that is impossible - I know we have people in our paths that drive us to our knees.

ALL I AM SURE OF is that I felt a peace today that I have not felt for a long time.

To help emphasize the point I am trying to make I want to share the following encouragement:

SMALL STRAWS IN A SOFT WIND by MARSHA BURNS:

  Stay focused, and refuse to be scattered through trying to take on more than you can effectively handle. Take the time necessary to establish yourself in peace and tranquility so that the enemy cannot find an inroad. Confusion and chaos are the devil's playground, but I have given you the peace that surpasses all natural understanding. Settle down in the emotional and mental stability that I have provided, says the Lord.
Philippians 4:7b  and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Romans 12: 18  Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone.

As my friend (and Pastor) Brian, says,

"Peace"

VACATION

THE PLANE

Being over-weight causes many extra stresses when traveling. The aisles on a plane are small, narrow, and often crowded. If you are pulling a carry-on bag you must contort yourself into strange configurations in order to keep the wheels rolling smoothly. Then you must contort again to lift this bag above the heads of strangers (praying you do not drop it) into a luggage bin made for wallets not suitcases. Then once you have your bag hammered into place, you must crawl over someone to get to your seat either the center or the window - but most of the time the center. (I usually feel a bit like I committed adultery once seated)

The center is where you end up most of the time when you are overweight because this is where you will cause the most distress in the other passengers. The window passenger undoubtedly the bone thin vegetarian who hates sitting still for longer than 10 minutes at a time because it will alter their metabolism - will silently re-absorb any biological fluids because they know how futile it will be to ask the overweight person to move, causing the aisle person to move, clogging the beverage cart runway, just so they can get up to use the restroom. Both aisle passenger and window passenger refuse liquids to protect themselves from having to disturb the overweight passenger.

I hate having to ask for the extender for my seat belt. But I would die if they just handed it to me. That has never happened, thank God for that! The last time I flew, I just asked for it as discreetly as possible and went about my business like it didn't hurt my pride just shy of bleeding. This time after dropping 70lbs, I wasn't sure if I needed the extension or not.

Getting ready for the airport and for the trip itself has several considerations. Comfortable shoes, seasonally appropriate clothing, boredom prevention, make up, hair, liquid intake monitoring. Then all those considerations are modified in accordance with the TSA regulations to avoid embarrassment at the security check points. This was my first time through the X-ray. My new electronics earned me a personal encounter with a TSA agent. Sheesh. Live and learn - the agent told me how to avoid intimacy the next trip. Hey they are just doing their job, and I am glad they are - but sheesh.

While we were waiting at the gate they made an announcement that there were a few seats in first class available if any one in economy wanted to upgrade. by the time hubby got through the line there was only one seat left so he upgraded my ticket to first class. (Awwww) When I boarded and got in my seat I thought I wonder if the seat belts are different in first class - I tried to fasten it and I was able to just get it connected - but I was pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy the ride. So I asked for the extender. But I was happy to realize I only needed less than 2 inches to give me the comfort I needed. This maybe a small victory but I was excited.

I spent most of the vacation reading during the day, and going out for dinner with my hubby in the evening. The dinners were not lite, or fat free, or even small portions. However, they were delicious and having time with my sweetheart was wonderful.

We had a couple of busy days that included some walking - not much - but enough to make my feet swell and hurt. But mostly the vacation was rest and relaxation for me.

We had a bit of misadventure on the way home. Our flight was cancelled and we had to rebook another flight home. Barely making it on the last flight that day escaping the dreaded sleepover to fly out the next day. But, it was still 8hours in an airport where most of the seating outside the gate were either in restaurants or in front of slot machines. AAGH!

When we finally got aboard the plane, no first class this time, coach. Very coach. I mean there was nothing more "coach" on the plane! We were in seats so coach, they wouldn't lean back! Serving trays locked and seats in the upright position for 2 hours. But of course the row in front of us could put their seats back.

Yeah, you betcha.

But the real question was, "do I need the extender?" I was in the aisle seat - utopia for the overweight and tall people - I reached down to pull the right side of the seat belt up - carefully sliding my left hand down to gather the other end of the seat belt making a point of not obtaining carnal knowledge of the passenger in the center seat next to me. I pull the two pieces together and - VOILA!!!! Snap! together no need for the extender!!!

I don't know as of yet if I gained weight on this vacation, I may have. But what I do know is I did not need the extender on the way home. That means I have changed. I am a new Geri. And I am proud to celebrate changes - no matter how small!

UPDATE: I am excited to report that the scales did not change while I was on vacation enjoying myself. I wegh just what I weighed before I left! Yahoo!!!!

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

I went to a facebook wall titled depression and the feeling of depression overwhelmed me. It reminds me of Philippians 4:8. "And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise". 

It also reminded me of Proverbs 23:7 "As a man thinketh in his heart so is he"  

I wonder if depression begets depression? And likewise if thinking about things which are excellent begets happiness? 

During the journey of cancer a patients thoughts can be friends or foes. And the decision is our own and must be made each day which of the two our thoughts become. And I know that even non-cancer journeys prove that this is true. Our thoughts are in so many ways: who we are, who we become, and to what our environment responds.

I am trying to allow God to take my weak mind, and my stubborn will and convert them to someone who is strong and teachable, yet not tossed "to and fro" by every wind of doctrine. (I said, "I am trying".)

I find myself over and over saying, "I don't know anything, and I never did".

I am a grandmother now. Going on three years. I love being "Gigi". That's what my qualifier calls me. My granddaughter, Andi. This picture was her first time out with a spoon - over two years ago. "Do it myself" written all over her face. See it there under the bananas?  

Because of the movie GIGI I was named Geri G. Gilstrap. Because of my initials, GG, my friends called me "Gigi". (That was over two years ago, too.)
I guess somewhere around adolescence I went by mainly Geri, but that really wasn't because of any request from me, it just happened. Oh, Mom hung in there, and most of my siblings, but friends and a special cousin put in the effort to call me the much more mature "Geri". Think of it as the people who started calling Cassius Clay by his new name: Muhammad Ali. (Except there was no religious event as a precursor to the change.)


What's the connection between depression - our names - and our thought life? Simple: Who we are, who we think we are, & what we call ourselves all can contribute to who we become. This isn't an idea I came up with, so don't throw me out with the bath water! Or maybe I am the bath water . . .


If you read through the Bible you will see several times when names are changed when God does a work in a life.


Abram became Abraham. That changed his name from great father to father of many nations. So every time he heard his new name he was reminded of God's promise that his descendants would out number the stars.


Jacob becomes Israel. Jacob means supplanter because he grabbed Esau's ankle and made his way out of the womb first. Israel means prince with God,or power with God meaning he prevailed - not a real big difference between supplanting and prevailing but a big difference when it's with GOD.

So I am seeing, depression, or more personal: depressed, as a name. (Maybe a "label" is easier to understand, but for the sake of the bible references let's go with name.). If your name has been Depressed, what would be a more excellent name? A more honorable, more lovely and admirable name?

Encourager.  Fighter.

Scholar.  Praise - er.

Hope-er. Blessed. 

And one of my favorites, Believer. 

Post a new name in comments.

Thanks for reading,

                      New Geri

Juice

Hubby received a juice extractor for his birthday. So.....

First I got a whole lot of fresh vegetables. While I was at the store I was taking note of all the great juice options there are today, and wrote down the price of the healthier ones. Also, the cost of the fruits and vegetables that looked the best.

ThenI got overwhelmed looking at the full fridge, wondering how to make juice we would like the first time we tried it so I wouldn't be wasting anything because of some strange combination I thought would be delicious. After reading a friends post on facebook about juicing, with a link to Amazon.com and books on juicing I went click click click and I bought a kindle book on juicing.

Then after I read the book on juicing, I wondered why the author hadn't mentioned anything about the leftover pulp. Previously, I thought I could use it in recipes but there was no mention of it - so I went online to find out ideas on how to use the pulp.

The first things I saw suggested for using pulp had to do with pet treats and composting piles - NOT exactly what I was thinking. But as I read further there were ideas for using the pulp in recipes. Actually one of the uses was to add the pulp to the juice - just not all of it - to boost the fiber content. Another one was to add it to smoothies, again to boost the fiber content.

One of my main concerns was whether I needed to cook the pulp prior to adding it to baking recipes - what was suggested was just to add the pulp as is into the recipe, however, I would suggest just being careful to NOT allow large pieces of vegetables such as carrots to make it into the quick baking recipes(30min or less). They just won't get soft enough in short periods of time.

THE JUICER

I took it out of the box today. Yes it was his present. But HIS birthday was 3/31. It was time to let it out of the box. IT WAS TIME.

I prepared the 6 carrots and 1 apple and began to "fiddle" with the machine. After a little carrot stub popped up and hit me in the shoulder, I decided to read the manual. No it is not just men who read the manual as a last resort. I enjoy trying to figure things out but not getting hit with vegetables - it goes against my stage training.

I successfully made a cup of juice. And that little sip tasted wonderful. I decided I would save the juice for hubby WHO I expected to be home in just a few minutes - and use the pulp to make scones!

But when I went into the fridge a few minutes later the juice was starting to settle - so I decided I would use the juice as the liquid, instead of water, in the scone recipe.
So that was my juicer adventure and here is the recipe for my carrot scones.

CARROT SCONES

Cut strips of parchment paper
Juice approx. 6 carrots and 1 apple

Preheat oven to 375

1 box spice cake mix
2 cups baking mix
1 cup juice from juice extractor ( approx. 6 carrots, 1 apple)
1/2 cup of pulp from juice extractor

Put dry ingredients in large bowl.
Add liquid and pulp.
Fold mixture until all dry ingredients are moistened.

REGULAR SCONE SHAPE
Form two balls of dough. Place each ball on parchment and cut into eighths with wet knife. Brush with cream or milk.

MUFFIN SHAPE
Place strips of parchment in each muffin cup. Scoop 1/2 cup of dough over parchment strip in muffin cup. Smooth tops of scones with cream or milk.

Bake 25 minutes at 375

OPTION
While scones are hot spread with cream cheese frosting. Let cool.

Thanks for reading, New Geri

SURPRISE!!

MARCH 31st 2012

My dear husband turns 50 today.

Last year when I turned 50, we celebrated in a hospital. Not only did we celebrate my 50years, we were celebrating that I would never have uterine cancer. Nor would I ever have ovarian cancer. It was a wonderful celebration, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

This year, we are celebrating his 50 years. I wanted to do something wonderful for him. About a month ago I started inviting people to a surprise party. Never did I think that tonight, the day before, it would still be a surprise! I even cautiously made updates letting people know it was still a surprise! This week preparations were all set to move forward. Monday I had a Dr apt, but then the rest of the week had tasks spread out to make the to do list disappear easily and without getting overwhelmed.

I seriously had it all figured out.

Honestly, I made a list. I had it ALL figured out.

SO......Monday, I went out to the car to go to my Dr apt. yup. cross item 1 off the list. Yessiree.

Car will not start.

Yessiree, car will not start.

Well, it's only Monday, I'll just do some of my Tuesday stuff today and reschedule my apt.

My Tuesday stuff was cleaning up and putting away my granddaughter's happiness from the weekend. This happiness included a brand new feather boa.

I am allergic to feathers.

Yep. That's right.

So I spent the rest of the day sneezing. Of course, it had been so long since I was around feathers, I didn't even KNOW that the boa was causing all the sneezing, and itchy watery eyes and pluggy ears.

Ears. Yes, then came the call from the Audiologists. An apt opened up for a consult  on hearing aid options. Not knowing if the car would be fixed I opted to take the early Tues morning apt which would allow me to take hubby to work and use the car if my car was still dead.

Suddenly TWO days are messed up instead of just one. But Geri, how did an early appointment mess up the whole day on Tuesday? This is how: sneezing all day  automatically ruins the next day with headache, and/or drowsy allergy medicine. Not to mention how stinking depressing it is to have a hearing aid consult. Sheesh. Not only am I 51 married to a man still in his 40s for 12 more hours, I have to go pick out some hearing aides.

Oh and by the way, the car got fixed. I love that man!!!

So it's Wednesday.  It is raining like, what we generally to refer to as: "cats and dogs".  I know the neighbor is going to go nuts about people parking on his driveway when it has been raining. Not only that, but I hate the idea of my friends walking through the wet soggy grass to get to the house so that the hubster won't see their cars when he gets back from the wild goose chase "De jour" that I've sent him on prior to the big surprise. Anyhoo . . I send out an update to tell guests to just wait until 5:15pm and come on down OUR driveway. A slight compromise to the traditional surprise but still pretty impressive to be suddenly surrounded by friends wearing Hawaiian attire. You see it was billed as a "HAWAII FIVE-0" party.

Wednesday, the first cancellation comes in. Our son is not going to make it. He'll be in Cancun.

That's OK. I'd cancel for Cancun. No I wouldn't but . . I try to be understanding anyway.

Friday, three more cancellations. Normally, at this point of an event we are hosting I would talk to my best friend and discuss what changes need to be made now that the "pots" coming to the "pot luck" have changed. But guess who my best friend is? Right. And I can't talk to him about it.

I have errands to run. Hubby wants to use the smoker to impress his mother. So although I am cooking Hawaiian Chicken for a houseful, we are also smoking ribs. Gotta pick up ribs. Nothing will go to waste, we have a freezer. I just have to let him do this so he won't get suspicious. Also, on the errand list is the stuff for punch, cups and plastic cutlery, plates, table cloth, you know: party stuff. Stuff that was originally on the Monday list.

Friday night, cancellation five. OK. I am sure this kind of thing happens all the time. I do start to wonder: have I invited a good mix of people? And I didn't get all my housecleaning done, will I be too pooped tomorrow to make sure everyone is having a good time?(why do i think that is my job?) Oh my goodness, am I expecting too much help in the side dish area, now that there are so many cancellations? And well, that went on for quite some time. I can worry up a storm. Normally, I talk to my best friend and He is the logic to my whimsy, and we balance each other out.

At peak overwhelmedness, I get a text from a friend about a new movie on Netflix. Sure. I need to take another two hours out of my last day to prepare to watch a movie. Ok, let's just get it queued up for when I have time, she says it is really good. Let's see, little boy, troubles at home, Dad goes to Iraq, singing competition. Yes that sounds good. ok. add to Que.

or play.

and watch.

Just for a few minutes.

Ok. Crying. PAUSE. I get up and clean the bathroom floor. Sweep the dining room and start a load of clothes.

Play. Crying. PAUSE. I can't believe I have only been watching this movie for 37minutes and I have already cried twice.

Play. Crying. PAUSE. I am just going to tell Roland about this party and let go of all this stress. No I can't. Maybe it's not the way I thought it would be but: when is it ever?
I get up and clean the kitchen floor, and the counters with the new orange vinegar cleaner I learned how to make from pinterest. smile.

Play. Crying. PAUSE. I have to cancel. I wont tell the hubster, I'll just put out an update and he'll never know. No I can't. I have already talked to people who have made things to bring. I'm just an idiot for thinking I could do this. I need him. Normally, I would be going to him for help with all this nervousness. Normally, he would say, "Are you nuts? How many people did you invite? Where were you going to put them? Why did you think I would like this?" Seriously, I told one guest when they asked about a gift, that the only thing I was sure he wouldn't want was "a surprise party". This I know about him, why did I do this?

Anyway, I made it through the movie, bawling, my house is not spotless, I will spend some time hiding things tomorrow, which I wish I wouldn't have to do, I will not be making ALL the wonderful dishes I have been dreaming of for a month, I will just be making Hawaiian chicken with rice, and punch. and you know what? I may not make the punch.
I will try to post a comment after the party tomorrow.

So Hubster wakes up Saturday morning making groaning noises that he only makes when he doesn't feel well or is having a UPS man dream about a dog.

When I get up I already have a message from a guest cancelling.

My daughter isn't staying she thought the party was on Sunday and made plans. Sheesh.

I sit in one of our front room chairs and set off an explosion of dog hair. ugh. I am instantly put into a whirl of emotional turmoil and begin to pour out my soul to hubby. I am failing as a homemaker (that evaluation is primarily due to the explosion of dog hair), and hostess(referring to the cancellations ~ because certainly I am responsible for all things in all lives). I need him. Realizing he is not feeling well, (remember the noises when he got up?) I spill the beans. Over a month of secrecy and I let it all out. I need him and if he is not well enough to enjoy this event what am I doing?

So we begin to make the calls to cancel. His mom and brother is invited to come up, after all we still have a ton of food to share.

Knock knock.

Oh no. Guest number one shows up. "I guess you didn't get the message. we canceled the party. But please stay we have enough food to share"

I made the punch. (Forgetting the sweet little frozen raspberries I bought especially for the punch, details.)

Knock knock. More guests trickle in. "Come on in" she says stunned and concerned. And the eye contact between family and guest number one makes the silent decision not to tell the new guests that the party they just joined was indeed cancelled.

So in all the excitement of guests arriving to a cancelled surprise party, I didn't take any photos. The Hawaiian shirts were great and had everyone who was invited came it would have been a delightful spectacle. Thanks Roy, Carl, Mike, Travis, Gary, Bob, Ron and their wives who made sure they wore them. I truly appreciate the people who supported my idea of celebrating his FIVE-O Hawaiian style. Even/especially those who received the cancellation and missed the event.

Oh no.

I cancelled.

But we had a party.

Now before it gets around that we had a party,  I have to make contact with the people who actually got the message that we cancelled and didn't show up. Oh no.

So for the second time in a day I make contact with the people invited only this time to tell them we had a party without them. UGH!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I learned a lot this week. I need my husband. He is the other half of me. The other half of my mind. He is the logic. He balances me. And the only surprise party I should NEVER plan is one for HIM.

Thanks for coming on this little Roller coaster ride with me.

PS: I stayed well within my eating program for the day, AND the movie my friend recommended was "LIFTED".

Thanks for reading, New Geri

On The Road Again

After my last post I struggled with the plateau for a few weeks, trying to stay true to the encouragement I gave you the reader. I had my days.


  I enjoy the early Beatles. I must've sung "HARD DAYS NIGHT" 100 times before I gave any thought to what I was singing. I eventually decided it had something to do with working the graveyard shift. Who knows? I would rather not KNOW. Especially, if it has something to do with some drug they took in the 60s. C'mon, I used to love PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON!


Sheesh! Just a sweet story about a boy and a dragon . . . . .ruined.


 So...anyhoo. I had to check myself on HOW I was tracking on my program. One time I can fall short is at night. So for a few nights I fought through my insomnia without a comforting midnight snack. Now, I could easily be convinced the Beatles wrote "HARD DAYS NIGHT" while they were on a diet!


Or the munchies, shoot, I almost made it past that one.


 Another check was in activity. Sometimes when you recover you can overdo. Sometimes when you recover you can wait a little too long before you test yourself.  Yup. I looked at the calendar: time to test the knees and legs. I was really afraid of activity. So I had to sneak up on it. I can take laps around my house, I can park farther away from the store, I can say "yes" instead of sitting on the couch. So I am "ON THE ROAD AGAIN".  I don't think there is any hidden meaning in that song. 


[Well, you probably have to assume that there is some road trip card games, cigarettes, whiskey and wild wild women. Shoot. Nothing is all wholesome.]

 Water intake also needed attention. I was not drinking enough water. Yes water is good to bathe in, wash your dishes and water your gardens but it also makes a great refreshing way to quench your thirst. Water is so good for you, just drink it!


The song that comes to my mind when I think of water is COOL CHANGE. "If there's one thing in my life that's missing . . ." Ahh.

 It only took two weeks of due diligence to show a change on the scale. And you know what? I couldn't promise you that any one of those checks had anything to do with the weight loss. Or if none of them had anything to do with the weight loss. What I BELIEVE is:  God asked me, "Are you willing to keep going?". I had to answer, "Yes Lord, I am willing."  With every journey God asks that question. There are four phases of the affirmative answer: I can, I will, I am, I have.

I can         Phil. 4:13
I will        Psalm 100:4
I am         Gal. 2:20
I have       II Tim 4:7

Each of the four phases can, and likely will, be a struggle. What I hear people say is NOT that it is easy but that it is worth it. Today, I move forward encouraging myself in this: God is able to do more than I can think or even imagine Ephesians 3:20.


Which brings me to the song of my heart: AMAZING GRACE.

Thank you for reading, ~ New Geri

PLATEAU

pla·teau/plaˈtō/   noun an area of fairly level ground verb reach a state of little or no change after a time of activity or progress     I have not read about or even heard of someone making this journey from obesity to a healthy weight without hitting a plateau. I am sure there are some and I am happy for them. Jealous, but not so much that I would give them regular frozen yogurt labeled non-fat, pfft, that would never even cross my mind if I wasnt trying to make YOU laugh.   I am an emotional eater. That is so easy to admit, but, no so easy to overcome. This journey is not just about weight. So many factors affect how my body responds to the food I eat, the choices I make when I eat, what time I eat. I have hit a plateau every time I have dieted, and went on to reach my goal, and I also have hit a plateau each time I gave up before NOT reaching my goal. What I know now is If I am to successfully, and permantly, change my eating and thereby change my health I must conquer my emotions.   A dysfunctional past, who doesn't have one?   So I ask myself: are there people who grow up crooked who eventually find a way out?   Basically I got out. I have a nearly 30 year marriage, two adult children - one attending college the other trained in the airline/hospitality industry - a home, and more "things" than I can take care of well.  I have a church that I enjoy, a Pastor I appreciate and trust. Seriously, doesn't that sound like I got out?   Then there is the flipside: I used to sing. I tell myself there are lots of reasons I stopped but one reason I tend to leave off the list is: vanity. I hate even writing that word. How in the world can a woman who is overweight, less than supermodel facial features, really big feet, oily skin, visibly thinning salt and pepper hair, . . . Do I need to go on? How can I be aware of all these things and be vain?   Pride is an interesting thing. I love Jesus. I love the stories of his miracles, of his selflessness, of how he remained silent until he spoke just the right words. I love worshipping Him in song. But when I was in front of the church I felt as I gained weight I was less and less affective. I made the transition to hiding behind the piano without actually realizing I was hiding behind the piano. Then I gained some confidence as the team leader and actually lost weight, even then I saw discipline with food as a integral part of being "usable" in God's kingdom. Why would someone like me think I could affect God's kingdom better or worse? Even Jesus, who could have boasted of his equality with God the Father, said,"I only do what the Father tells me to do". So the miracles, the wisdom, the loving the unloveable was all credited to the Father.   I have fasted, exercised, prayed, been "delivered" and forgiven. I have practiced and fallen short, failed to practice and soared effortlessly.  I've read books and filled out workbooks. I have listened to tapes and danced to videos, sometimes I did well, sometimes . . well, not so well.   One thing I know is I can not add to or take away from what God wants to do. At the same time I make choices each day that can affect my tomorrows. God very well knows what I will do - but doesnt make me do it.   Yes I want to look nicer. Yes, I want to be healthier. Yes I want to be stronger. Yes I miss singing.   I do not have to wait for the weight to change to start singing again. I can sing at church in the pews - and touch God's heart from there. I can sing at home - and touch God's heart from there. When I have an opportunity to sing "for others" even then I can touch God's heart from there. If indeed he has given me a gift, I can share it - no matter what I look like or how much I weigh. God gives the gift that can be shared to be shared. (How dissapointing to realize a gift is not being used.)   So what am I saying? I am on a plateau, it is fairly level ground, but it is higher ground. I am in a state of no change after a time of  progress. So While I am on this plateau I reach out to the God who neither holds a grudge for my  lack of progress nor is moved by the abundance of it, and He touches me right where I am. On a plateau.   APPLICATION: PLATEAU PLAN    1) I revisit the first few weeks of my weight watchers program and become more diligent in tracking, 2)  I add activity with a few walking goals, and 3)  I set time aside each day for music. And touch God's heart from there.   THANKS FOR READING

My Favorite Scones

Easy. Quick. Delicious.

PREHEAT OVEN TO 400. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.

You need:
1 box cake mix
1 c  baking mix (Bisquick type)
1 c water (or buttermilk, milk)
cream (milk)
optional:
nuts to taste
raisins to taste
herbs for savory scones
frosting or butter

Mix all ingredients slowly adding water until mixture forms a soft but firm dough. divide dough into halves, then into two balls. Place one ball on the parchment and flatten to desired size. With a wet knife cut into 8 parts. Brush with cream. Bake until golden brown(15-20mins). While still hot, spread with frosting creating glaze as the frosting melts(use butter for savory scones and sprinkle with herbs or sea salt). Repeat with second ball.

TO STORE: Place scones in container alternating a layer of parchment paper between layers of scones. Depending on the ingredients, I prefer NO refrigeration. Most of the time they don't last long anyway. I have never frozen any of these so can't give you any advice there. I would however, put scones made with perishable add ins in the fridge . . .if they make it that long.

NOTE: If you are feeding a larger crowd, or prefer less sweet scones add two(2)cups of baking mix to 1 box cake mix. If making savory scones, omit cake mix using two cups of baking mix and 1 tbs of sugar, or honey(This takes away the "biscuit" taste).

My family loves these so I try to make them often. I find that the whole wheat baking mixes, and low fat Bisquick taste yummy, too!

Enjoy!

AT THE MOVIES: "MAGIC TOWN"

I just finished a B&W movie with James Stewart and Jane Wyman called Magic Town. I have always been a Jimmy Stewart fan but have never watched this one in it's entirety. I decided to make myself finish it this time, and I am glad I did. Before I write my review I want to recommend you watch it, too. ALL OF IT! If you don’t wade through the slow stuff at the beginning you wont give yourself the opportunity to see the parallels to our society today. So before you read the rest of this blog, watch it. NOTE: It's available on Netflix or online at  http://youtu.be/lr-FbTLfOds (let me know how this link works)

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stewart plays Rip smith a statistician who makes his living selling opinion polls. Finding this tedious and time consuming work he searches for, and finds, a town statistically identical to the USA as a whole. With the same percentages of groups i.e. ?0% women over 25, ?2% annual earnings under 15k a year, and so forth. This mathematically perfect town and Smith can save time and provide marketing research to high paying clients in a fraction of the time and expense of "scientific" polls. Smith dreams that he can accumulate his fortune and finally have what he has always wanted: security. Yeah right!

In contrast, Jane Wyman plays Mary Peterman the editor of the newspaper, who wants to carry on her father’s dream of bringing progress to Grandview by building new schools and making room for cultural pursuits. Smith knows this would attract new people changing the opinions and socioeconomic values of current residents ergo changing the statistical perfection he has bet on to sustain his future security.

When the truth comes out the town goes crazy thinking they are special. With swelled heads and greedy hearts they begin to change. Almost overnight they begin to make promises they cannot fulfill without the new citizens and economic growth, but as the town changes the first poll proves to be ridiculously off of the grid for the rest of the nation. After becoming laughing stock for radio and print nationally, the town becomes a ghost town and their humiliation leaves the original people withdrawn and isolated from one another. Smith then tries to get the town to come back together. (Here is a town hall meeting scene that is sappy but inspirational nonetheless.)

One of the boasts made in the throes of conceit was that a new high school would be built “with their own hands” in the event that the bond vote failed. Smith reminds the council of these words and the meeting eventually becomes what could be compared to a group of Amish discussing the barn they will build for the neighbor. The kind of teamwork upon which our great nation was built.

                    ************************************************************

Believing the US debt is built upon the same ridiculous pride found in fictional Grandview – I also believe humble sacrifice and hard work is the solution. I know there will be some challenging days ahead of us. We must overcome our addiction to products made in China, we must continue/begin growing our own food, thinking health first and medicine second, many of us may find ourselves in multi-generational housing, and this doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Together we lighten the load. There is no easy fix, we have debts and debtors will need to be paid the sooner we roll up our sleeves and face it the better.

Watch Magic Town. Don’t shut it off before the ghost town scene. There are some great lessons to learn, some pretty good acting and a few familiar faces from another Stewart movie, “It’s a wonderful life”. If you don’t see what I saw, that’s okay, you won’t have wasted 2 hours of your time because it is a satisfying movie. (Even if you don’t feel inspired to Blog about it.)

I’d love to hear your points of view on this movie.

Thanks for reading, Geri     

Sweet Nothings

I broke a candle today. The glass container shattered across the laminate flooring in an explosion of sparkling clear razors,  needles, and knives. I was barefoot.

This was the candle purchased the day I had to leave Roland at the hospital for the first time. It was lovely just to look at, but also had a delightful fragrance and crackling sound. It comforted me that first night. And the next. I stared at it on the floor trying to figure out how I could save it.

Then, my eyes drifted from the sparkling glass to my bare feet. Then my mind ran to my grand-daughter's little toes and I began trying to figure out how to save them!

First, do no (more) harm. If the candle can't be saved, so be it, the toes were the most important. So I tried to find a part of the nearby carpet that was NOT sparkling. Then stepped over to it.

Second, assess the damage. I saw that most of the glass had stayed embedded in the soft wax. Also, only part of the glass container was cracked. (At this point putting on gloves would have been a great idea) I picked up the largest remaining piece of the candle and carefully carried it into the kitchen. Then I put on shoes and grabbed the broom and dustpan.

Third, saving the candle. In order to save the candle I had to break the rest of the glass off of the soft wax. (This would have been a good time to put on safety goggles) Removing the candle was only one part of saving it. It melted at such a low temperature it would turn into a puddle if it was lit as it was now: just wax and wick. So I had to find a new container.  

A new home.  My friend went to San Francisco and brought me back an amber/orange cut glass votive holder. When I asked her why she didn't get me the traditional T-shirt, she said the glass reminded her of the lights on the golden gate bridge at night. That thought transformed my outlook on candles and containers. I have purchased glass cups and jars and all sorts of things because, "I can put a candle in that!". So I knew what I wanted to put the candle "guts" in, but wasn't sure it would fit. It did. Then I was not sure about the science of it, stability, overflow of melted wax, how high the flame would go, etc. I lit it. (Kids, dont try this at home!)

The surprise.  I had to let it burn for a while in order to see if it would melt too fast and overflow the container so I set it right next to me, lit, smelling wonderful, looking lovely, and crackling like a nice little fire. Wait a minute, . . . . I haven't been able to hear very well since New Years' Eve weekend when I developed a double ear infection (I also had an eye infection and strep throat, but oye, I never complain). I have been watching the TV with the volume in the 70s, saying "pardon me" too many times to count, and now I am hearing the wonderful little crackling sound of this candle.

After ten days of antibiotics I had begun to wonder how much of my hearing loss was going to be permanent. Then with the second round almost gone I was beginning to get used to having people repeat things. How easily we accept troubles sometimes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I believe when we have troubles we need to go to our maker first with all of them, then our doctors, and our family and friends. And just like taking antibiotics - the label usually says to finish all medication - we need to stand firm. Answers may not come instantly, but look for little reminders that an "answer-er" is listening. A glimmer of a candle, the sparkle of an explosion of glass that causes NO cuts! Keep taking your medication (NOTE: If you see listening to God as the medication, just remember it is a lifetime prescription), before you know it you will see improvement. Carefully the glass is removed making big and little toes safe, the candle is made beautifully useful again, and there will be some kind of love letter from God if you look for it. Who knows? Maybe He will whisper sweet nothings in your ear!  B^)