Brix, St Helena CA

What a lovely afternoon! Friends invited us to meet them for lunch in the Napa Valley, and while still trying to catch up from being away from home so much lately we love the area and have fond memories of wonderful lunches together at the V.Sattui winery where we were to meet them. As it turns out we ended up at the BRIX restaurant instead, our friends wanting a more formal sit down lunch than the deli at V.Sattui offers. The restaurant was picked by a friend of our friends, who had never been there but thought he had heard of the chef. What a wonderful choice! They have raised bed gardens you can see in our view from the table where some of our food was grown, and we were all more than happy with our selections. I had the heirloom bean salad with goat feta & finely julliened carrots tossed with a vinegrette. The taste I had of the mushroom, sunchoke soup with cashew cream was to die for, and the wood oven baked pizza the guys had looked and smelled amazing. I almost ordered the olive bread with hummus, but was so overwhelmed by the choices that I stuck with a salad. There was not much goat cheese, and I did supplement the small portion with some sourdough slices which were also made fresh at the restaurant. They ordered several desserts for us to share, and I had a nibble of peanut brittle and one strawberry bon bon (freshly made ice cream inside dark chocolate - OMG!) So much for no dairy or gluten, but the amounts were small and I have a wonderful minestrone full of spinach, tomatoes & peppers simmering away in the kitchen for dinner later.
One of the nicest surprises of the day was that I can actually see that I am getting smaller in the picture we took this afternoon. I knew from the clothes I was choosing from to wear this morning that I must be losing again, but to see my shoulders thinner was more than I could have hoped for upon waking this morning. Thank heavens in this economy I won't have to shop for summer clothes.

Pancake Parfum

The smell of pancakes comes wafting down the hall from the kitchen, and the sweetness is perfume to my brain. I feel neurons firing and a 'coming awake' as it were. But I analyze it all, find it interesting, and move on. For a moment I regret that I am subjected to this small torment, then I remember the warmth wafting across from under the sheets last night, and I am grateful that the same someone cooking pancakes out of a propellant bottle is also the someone who loves me best in this life and is willing to warm my feet at night. So I choose to enjoy the smell, remember the warmth, and move on, thinking of the yummy blueberries that will go in my smoothie later when I am hungry.

Speaking of later, we are taking a day trip to Napa to meet friends for lunch. This will be my first visit there since ditching dairy and gluten. We are going to the winery with the awesome deli, but what I remember is lean peppered pastrami, pungent cheeses and sourdough baguettes. I am praying for salad & roasted red peppers & Sicilian olives - but no matter what the fare I will choose wisely. I did not like seeing Mr. 200 Monday after five days eating on the road and I am not going to do anything to welcome him back now that he's gone again. ...And now I feel like saying to the universe, "So There!" and sticking my tongue out. Is not it wonderful how a part of us never grows up.

Eat Pray Love

Eat Pray Love is a beautifully written book by Elizabeth Gilbert, and I've spent the last month listening to her melodic voice reading it. I first read the book a year ago last October while house sitting for my sister in Ventura, the nurturing vistas from her deck on the hill overlooking the bay there a perfect counterpoint to the lessons I was finding in the book. I always meant to pick up my own copy, and I will eventually, but for now I have the audio book read by the author loaded on my ipod and I am on my third time through listening to every word with wonder and hope and love. I am so in love with the words, with the way she reads them, with the wonderful things she has to share that you would think they were fresh donuts warm from the fryer and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Now to digress a bit.

It's been a crazy few weeks, first driving with my daughter and granddaughter (5 months old) on a grand tour of visits to Southern California for five days of showing off the baby to family and squeezing in a quick visit with a friend I miss terribly. Then home again and a long weekend traveling down to Fresno for the annual Safari Archery novelty shoot and hiking over boulders where native Americans use to sit and grind acorns, the holes of their work living on to tell their story. Two days home for laundry and repacking and a couple days of 'real' work and then off north to Redding and their annual Trail Shoot. Hiking and shooting and getting drenched and not giving up despite being a drowned rat with numbing fingers and barking dogs (read that as tired, sore feet.) Anyway, I am home again and just back from walking Kaylee (the wee dachshund I missed so much on all those trips) and listening to E. Gilbert's words and wanted to share the feelings of my walk.

We go several blocks north bordering the nearby golf course until we come to a pond, then we wind our way around the water until we turn East to cross over to a strip of protected land that runs along a creek that is fed from the snows in the Sierras. While somewhere I know in the back of my mind that we are on the edge of suburbia, once there I can let the wind blow around and through me, head back (lifting my heart to the world) and fingers spread wide to feel the coolness blowing by and all of a sudden it's just me on this planet as it spins through the universe. Kaylee sits close by my feet, her nose in the air too, and I wonder if she feels the same connection I do to the world at that moment. And I am so grateful for this beautiful earth we live on and the quiet I find at the end of this trail. I am surrounded by the beautiful foot hills covered in spring grasses, the taller mountains to the north dark with scrub pines, and the huge clouds plowing through the blue sky like tug boats on their way to Kansas; their bottoms dark with rain yet to fall and their tops stacked tall and thick and gleaming white in the afternoon sun. At that moment I feel so blessed, so much a part of it all, that I can even think of Joey and stay glad. At that moment I am not just there enjoying the weather, but I am also the observer watching this woman and her little dog and loving them because they are a part of me, and I am a part of them .... lol, 'and we are all together.' (Think Bono singing in Across The Universe.) When I left the house for this walk I really had to talk myself into going, telling myself that Kaylee needed the time & attention, that the exhaustion I was feeling could be ignored for her. Arriving home I am refreshed, and feel like writing for the first time in quite a while.

There is a small, very small, dark corner inside me trying to make a stand now that I am back home and the wind is no longer holding my spirits aloft. But I have a feeling I will never let it grow big again. These words I have been listening to over and over are a blessing, a benediction, a cleansing of spirit like I have never known before, and I send light to this woman for sharing a part of her life and giving me a better way to think about some important things. I am so open now to whatever is going to happen next in my life, and I think somewhere out there walking today I made a decision that it's time to be happy again. Maybe it's just another nudge in the right direction, but it feels more like turning a corner - or to be more exact, it feels like I've opened up a little inside, that I'm no longer clenched tight by grief. This is a good thing, and the freedom is lovely, and I know Joey would approve.

ps Did you figure out I am recommending her book to read?
pps Happy Cinco de Mayo

Is having an online Community healthy?

I recently was at the receiving end of several scathing comments for having typed something in a public forum that was perceived as rude. I mean, several posters were so mean and critical I literally fled the scene - well, after trying to politely explain what I had previously posted. I had just been voicing my opinion honestly, in direct contrast to the OP's (original poster's) comment, but will say that in re-reading my post I did forget to insert the IMHO clause at the beginning. So why did I let them upset me? I don't really know these people, it was an anonymous thread at a weight loss support site, so why was I putting myself out there in the first place? Is this online community I have become involved with simply a commentary on how pathetic I have become? It seems to be a rather large community - and it's only one of ... thousands? millions? I see our world wide web as a way to connect, but when you don't also have a fullfilling social life is it mentally healthy? Words continuously shared without benefit of facial expression or vocal tone? Words perhaps more harsh or blunt than intended because you can be faceless? Does lack of responsibility to what we are saying distort how it is said? Well, of course. Even mild mannered me managed to piss off a few people, how on earth did that happen? I've never been intentionally rude in my life and here were several people jumping on that band wagon and pointing at me. Me! WTF! And so where do I vent about it...not to my family, or close personal friends...but to an invisible audience, because the whole thing is rather embarrassing. Or, to be more realistic, to myslef - because I am just one of , well scads, of others who type away into the universe with no response expected - so when it comes it can be a shock.

Granted, journaling is a great way to work through feelings, and typing here I feel is better than not journaling at all. But why blog, why not just type into a work document and save like I have done so often. Connection, I think. Or trying to feel connected. So many of us have made our individual worlds so small we lack the society we need. Which brings me right back around to ... how healthy is this? Wouldn't I be better served to start a bunco group, a hiking club, or just participate more in the real world? (don't EVEN get me started on reality tv...)

So, recognizing that I spend too much time here, my goal this season (spring at the moment) is to be here less , and work on a better social life where I am more sensitive about the things I have to share. Sigh, I'm guessing my thoughts will be no better received there either.

Too Many Clothes!

I am tired of this ritual, making room for summer wear by packing away sweaters, replacing jeans with shorts in my drawers, and ousting the sweatpants so the bathing suits have a place of their own. I long for a basic wardrobe that will carry me through the year with just a few adjustments for the seasons. This is California after all, it's not like I have snow gear for winter and flowing robes for summer. I'm a jeans and tank top sort of girl, clothes shouldn't be such a chore.

Let me digress a bit. I've been doing lots of inside work - no, not dusting - the kind where you look inside to your darkest corners and flip the light on to see what you actually have hiding in there. Doubts, fears, hopes, dreams, shame, blame and all the little cracks and imperfections that make us individuals. My biggest dilema right now is figuring out how to forgive myself for all the small ways that I contributed to my son's death. For all the times I felt I failed him. For the perceived evils that lurk around his demise. I was listening to Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert this week. I had read the book while house sitting for my sister last year and fallen in love with her words and her story. And in listening to her read those words so beautifully some of them sank in a little bit, and I started thinking about the things I carry inside and what I was going to do about them.

So what on earth does this have to do with clothes? Good question, and here is my little story connecting the two. It's spring, and I would like to put on some shorts to wear while mowing the lawn. I really don't want today to be the day I lug out the cartons of summer clothes from the bottom of my closet and pack away the winter items. My Sis is coming this evening and I would rather spend my time working around the house to make it neat and cozy and welcoming. So I've just finished listening to Gilbert's book before I go to change my clothes, and all of a sudden I see this mass of material as a dead weight in my life. And it clicks - here is something I can work on. Here is a part of my life I can examine that is a whole lot easier to start with than my son's death. If I can look at this problem and solve it, then I will be ready to look at something else, and eventually I can get around to the really hard stuff.

So what do all these clothes mean? Why do I have so many things that I either don't or can't wear? The obvious answer to me is that I am constantly looking for something to make me feel smaller than a whale. Like if I can find something that fits perfectly it will make me look 50 pounds lighter. That's one thing, the other is that I save everything knowing that one day I will fit into it again and won't have to spend money shopping for clothes once I have lost weight. I think I finally threw away the 12's last year when we cleaned the garage out realizing how very outdated everything was (and falling apart) but I still have 14's, 16's & 18's in both stretch and regular sizes; my wardrobe grew as I did. Each time there was somewhere to go I would have to go find that one thing that would help me feel better about myself. Did it ever? I guess once in a while, but mostly....no. Another factor is not passing up a sale on something that I was absolutely positive was going to fit next year. I have a whole section in my closet devoted to this delusion; I'll bet I could go in there and count two dozen pretty tops that I have bought over the last several years and have never worn because they are still too small.

Time to rant for a second - if thoughts are things and I keep thinking I will fit in these things then why don't I?

Okay, so back to mucking about in my brain and heart and soul to do some dusting (ok, I lied, there is dusting involved) and figure out what to do about the clothes from the perspective of what is going to make me happy. Because that's what it's all about, isn't it? I think I need to visualize what it means for me to be happy, and what will I be wearing while I feel this way. Do I need the pretty gold tank top that would be perfect for giving a presentation or wearing under a snappy black jacket for a formal meeting? Do I see myself actually being happy doing those things? Is that me? Trust me, it's a real top and those have been the reasons for hanging on to it for about five or so years. Originally I wore it to a Christmas party with black velor pants, but I didn't really feel like me wearing it even then. So just because it's 'like new' and yes, eventually I might wear it once more, it deserves to be taking up space? I think not. And this is just one example, there are probably a thousand more stories much like it hiding in my storage bins, drawers and closet. So to get rid of these things, I need to accept why I have saved them, admit they are things I don't love, that don't represent who I am, and let them go to someone who can better use them before any more crumble from neglect in my care. And lets keep in mind the clothes are just the physical manifestation of me not feeling good about myself; ah, the real knitty gritty of the problem so to say. I've sort of lost me in all this mess. It's not so much about not really knowing who I really am, it's more about accepting who I am and embracing that instead of hiding from it. Because I do see that glimmer of me in there, it's not all doom and gloom; I use to be strong and confident and creative and helpful and athletic - I'm still all those things, I know that, I see that spark. I just need to get some kindling going (don't worry, not in the closet.)

So now I set myself this task - to set aside some time after my sister leaves to go through the clothes thinking about who I am, and what makes me happy. No pretending, no begrudging the dollars already spent, no unrealistic 'maybe if' scenarios. I saw in the mail today that there is a city-wide garage sale on June 20th, what better way to welcome in Summer! I plan on having more clothes than anyone else out in my driveway that day. And probably the biggest mental barrier to doing that - the weight thing of course. BUT...I have a sewing machine, I can alter my clothes as I lose weight. I'm eating for nutrition, and I'm back under 200 pounds, and as the weight keeps coming off I will be glad I saved a few things in smaller sizes. But the jeans I'm wearing now, my size 16 stretch, two pairs in this size would have been just fine, but I have six pairs - no more of that. I will only keep the things I really want, that I will really wear. And I will purge with a vengeance the clothes that were never really mine despite the fact I paid for them and brought them home.

Thinning out my wardrobe will be therapeutic, a winnowing of who I am, each decision in some small way bringing me closer to me. I can forgive myself for wasting so much money on these things that didn't make me happy because I know I'm not going to be like that anymore. I feel like I am on the road to being comfortable in my clothes, and that someday soon I will be able to wear the pretty tops hanging in my closet - the few I just have to keep because they sing my name. I feel like today I have made progress.

Eating for Nutrition

Well, I kept my food log update throughout the week, and it was looking pretty awesome until day 5. I've been fighting a cold (1st time in four years, I should not complain) and the only way to keep the phlegm at bay was to eat. I was tired of crunching on carrots (they work best) and yearned for comfort food. So days 5 & 6 I had too many calories, which brought my average daily calories to about 1400 - right where I should be to lose weight slow and steady. Interestingly enough, my well days, where I ate for nutrition and followed the Eat to Live guidelines, I was only consuming between 1000 & 1200 calories a day; I wasn't hungry, there were no cravings, no compulsive thoughts about eating bad things. Keeping in mind my activity level is super low I was mostly okay with this, but can't help but wonder if the low calories helped instigate the Cheetos attack. Going forward I will add more beans to increase the calories. I worry about upping the protein, but the Dr. says lots of beans and legumes and I've only been eating between 1/2 & 1C each day. I can hardly wait until I can eat for nutrition combined with getting in exercise. I imagine the pounds sluicing off my frame revealing the trim athlete hiding inside.

Reboot

Food log, Monday 3/16/09

Admittedly February was hard and I give myself kudos for not eating myself to death. Speaking of which, compared to death all the rest of the stress I can take in stride; I will stay positive and take care of myself. To that end today starts six weeks of eating for health. Well, yes, I have been doing that for over a year now...almost two? But I'm not making progress as fast as I would like. It averages out to ten pounds a year lost over each of the last three, but that counts the ten I gained eating after Joey crossed over. So now that I have changed a few basics I am interested in using my old tracking sheet to plan each day to see where I am calorie and percentage wise. I have guidelines I think I pretty much stick to, but obviously I am splurging more than I should. The idea is to lose more often, not just maintain! And while I say six weeks, the reality is that I will be happy if this manic mode lasts even one.

Basic changes made:
1. No more oil or store bought salad dressings. I'm making my own using nuts.
2. I'm adding in 1T of flax meal each day, and 1oz of nuts to get enough Omega 3's.
3. I have a goal of 1# of raw veggies each day, and 3-4 fruits.

I won't make myself crazy by trying to post my log everyday, but often, and at least weekly updates since my sheet tracks for weekly summaries. Yes, a little crazy...I'm tired of the dark, I'm ready for spring in more ways than one.