I woke up this morning feeling like pure-D  key-rap, and that’s the truth. Sore throat, wheezy chest, aches all over my body….oh, aurrrgh. So, do I take some nice, soothing, sleep-inducing medicine and crawl back into my nice, warm bed? Um. No. Nuh-uh. No CAN DO; I am working against something like six deadlines this month, and while I can assign research stuff to other people, I, and only I can do the writing, which makes no sense, but I mean, what does make sense around here? (nothing). So I chugged an ounce or so of that liquid Tylenol (daytime) for SEVERE cold/flu symptoms, took a shower (which made me feel marginally better) and schlepped into work where I am now drinking hot coffee, eating one of my homemade bran muffins with fresh blueberries, dates and chopped walnuts (yes, I know it’s not exactly standard muffin filling, but I threw in what I had) OH and I also added a cup of Fiber One cereal that I grated to the consistency of bread crumbs in the blender and a half cup of ground flax seed. Now, is that healthy or what? (We’ll try to ignore the fact that my homemade muffins are easily the biggest you can possibly imagine, with tops rising up and spreading out over the little cup like hot air balloons. So perhaps I should consider that in reality, I actually am eating TWO normal-sized muffins? Oh, who’s counting? Not me. Not this week, and maybe not even next week. I’m toying with the idea of eating what I want until February 1. Why? Just simply because I’m tired. (Sick, too, but that’s neither here nor there). I’m fed up with counting calories, fiber content, fat, sodium, etc., etc., etc. Of course, I am also fed up with not being at the weight I’d like to be at, but that’s a whole other story. I know myself pretty well by now. I’ll not watch my intake at all for the rest of this month, and although I’m not going to change my cooking style from healthy to not-healthy, and will continue to serve the kinds of things I typically make for DH and I, I will ALSO indulge in a dessert (or a muffin) or whatever I want WHENEVER I want, and that’s all there is to it. And what will that accomplish? Well, nothing, actually, beyond gaining maybe five or six pounds, which isn’t something I want to do, but it may be necessary for me to indulge myself a bit if I’m to get back to counting (which is the only tried and true way for me to lose weight over the long term) full-force next month. Oh, yes, indeed, as I type this, the word *rationalization* springs to mind, but the other thing that springs to mind is that I am old enough to not be so concerned with how I look anymore. Age is inevitable. And I’m not about to be one of those old bags with the long, curly blonde wigs, make-up applied with a trowel, and withered boobs hanging out of dresses designed for 20-year-olds. (Omigawd…have any of you seen any of those photo files on AOL of where stars from the fifties, sixties and seventies are now? ONE of them…if any of you remember the show “Beverly Hillbillies” played Elly Clampett – or that’s what I think her name was in the role – who was probably in her twenties when the series was on the air, and had long blonde pig-tailish things and wore little teensy cut-off jeans and checked shirts with cleavage down to her navel, almost – anyway, they have a picture of her today and she’s in her seventies, I think, because I was just a little kid myself when the re-runs were on – and TODAY she’s got that long blonde wig, and the heavy eye-makeup and the pancake stuff on her face, and you can see where the wrinkles have been filled in with something like flesh-colored cement or something. Now, I mean, surely she doesn’t think that the public hasn’t noticed that she’s aged? Good grief! Well, anyway, I think I’m coming to grips with the need to age gracefully, which is to say, without artifice, but hopefully as energetically as possible – which is why I am still walking with that big mouthed Leslie Sansone every morning, and hiking hither and yon with DH and friends whenever the opportunity arises. And, of course, if one wishes to grow old both gracefully and energetically, packing on a whole bunch of extra pounds is pretty counter-productive, eh? Which means getting back to keeping track of what I put in my mouth, except not just now. I need a little space, here. I think. I never know how I’m going to feel when I get up tomorrow, now, do I? Tomorrow I may just find myself at my wits end with being too chubby for my own good, and resolve to start counting immediately. I never have any long-term plans that can’t be changed, after all.

This past weekend was fairly relaxing – at least on Sunday, since it snowed all night Saturday, and continued snowing well into Sunday afternoon, and we tucked ourselves in snugly and stayed put. On Saturday, I went grocery shopping in the morning, stopped in at Kohl’s and bought the twin grandsons who will be arriving, it looks like, sometime in late March or early April, some matching outfits on sale. I’ve been picking up little outfits and stretchy suits and such up here and there when I’m out and about – just delivered a big bagful of maybe 15 outfits apiece for them on Saturday, and now I’m back at it. Of course I don’t buy for the twins without buying something for their big sister, too (some of you may remember her with her poor little broken wing last summer) so my Kohl’s charge (and Macy’s, Penneys, and Target) is taking a beating, but I just pay it off at the end of each month, and it’s over and done with. In another month, we’ll have to get down to the REAL brass tacks and start buying furniture for the nursery. My ex-husband has pledged $500, and so that’s what DH & I will do. And, my other daughters and son will throw in some $$$ as well as the in-laws, so between us all, these boys should have a fully furnished and stocked nursery.

Well, you KNOW I have work to do here, and am only putting it off, so I’d better get to it. Oooh, that muffin was sooooooooo good! (And good FOR me, too! Can’t beat that!)

Later, Gators,

Z