…at girls who wear glasses”. SO, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a GIRL anymore (nor am I interested in having passes made at me - too freaking old), because I have just joined the glasses-wearing crowd! Here I am in my new shades: (Of course you young-un’s won’t remember the above quote; it ages me considerably, but after all, who’s checking birth certs around here, anyway?)

 Scary, eh? This is my pensive face. I’m supposed to look intellectual.  LOL! Well, I’ve actually had glasses for years, now. Twenty, at least. My right eye is weak, and I am near-sighted like crazy. Never any trouble reading things up close, but distance has always been a bit troublesome. Not troublesome enough, however, to actually WEAR those danged glasses of mine, and definitely not pesky enough for me to be poking contact lenses into my eyes. No, not me. Nuh-uh. So, anyway, for the past month or so, my eyes have been blurring and feeling strained, and I’ve had a sort of low-grade headache, and it suddenly occurred to me that maybe I needed to wear my glasses! So I pulled them out of their dusty old case - they were stuck way in the back of a kitchen drawer - cleaned them off and stuck them on my face. There was a minor improvement, but not nearly enough, so it was apparent that I need(ed) a new prescription and some new glasses. (Ugh).

So, today I stayed home from work and off DH & I went to the eye doctor, after which we presented ourselves at Lenscrafters with paperwork in hand and started trying to find frames that I could live with. Well, there weren’t any regular glasses frames that I liked at all. I mean, flat out NONE. But I did like some of the sunglasses frames, and actually found some that they said they could put my (bifocal) lenses into. How kewl was that? Now the ones I REALLY liked - the Jackie-O’s - were just TOO BIG, they said, for my (old lady) lenses, but they could do those with just the distance prescription and sunglass tint (for driving). And I did manage to find some - a little bit smaller - I like nearly as much that they COULD put my (bifocal) lenses into, and those are what you see above. (And this is how I suppose I’ll be looking forevermore). Ultimately, we walked out of Lenscrafters having spent a whopping $730, but I think I may actually be able to bring myself to wear the darned things, you know? It’s just so annoying to think that with $730, we could’ve spent a couple of nights at the Cape or something. Jeeze. Well, I believe that my vision care plan at work will reimburse one pair of glasses per year, so I’ll get at least a partial reimbursement for what we spent, which is helpful, anyway. I have those glasses on right now, in fact - with my nightgown (am wondering if that’s proper glasses etiquette; does one wear glasses with pajamas?)

While my glasses were being made, DH and I had supper at Bertucci’s in the mall. Yeah. Not optimum, but yummy. Some of you may be familiar with their “Sporkie” pizza? Ohhhh. SO good! So calorie-filled, indeed. And I inhaled every last bite. Yes I did. It’s not EXACTLY “junque”; it tasted very fresh and all….oh, alright. While in the throes of trauma over having to finally give in to wearing glasses ALL THE TIME, I resorted to an old source of comfort - rich and plentiful food. I diodn’t even finish the Caesar salad that I ordered on the side. If I’d been half-way smart, I would’ve eaten all of that and then only had room for maybe a little bit of pizza. But not me - nope. I left plenty of room for pizza, and to heck with the salad! I may spend eternity trying to shed these last ten or so pounds - I’d prefer 20, but would settle for ten - and when you’re wearing glasses, who’s going to notice, anyway? (Just kidding).

Well, must be getting ready for work - just wanted to share this pivotal moment with you-all….(yes, and kvetch over it a bit).

Hugs,

Z

My kids are growing up. Well, they’re all grown up, if I have to be completely and painfully accurate. And, any of you who have even a passing familiarity with this here blog know that I love my darling offspring very, very much. BUT, I am just now realizing - perhaps not exactly in epiphanic proportions, but coming through loud and clear all the same - that they have actually built lives for themselves. They have their own family units, they have their careers, they have their friends and social spheres. Oh, certainly, they make time for their mother regularly, but I feel very distinctly that element of “making” time in otherwise busy and productive lives. To wit, last night we had one of our somewhat regular “movie nights” whereby everyone gathers at DD36’s (she has a wide screen television set in her family room); we “order out” our supper - pizza, chinese (more about that later) - and then choose a movie from on-demand or pay-per-view or whatever and get comfortable in our respective chairs, the couch, the window seat cushions - wherever. DH went home after we ate because he was tired and wasn’t up for a movie. As usual, of course, he was awake and up at 5:30 this morning. But never mind that. Last night we couldn’t find a movie that everyone wanted to see, and ended up watching four episodes of “Curb Your Enthusiasm”, which I find hilarious. I’ve heard it said that you either love Larry David’s humor - or detest it. I’m one of the ones who loves it. I, of course had never even heard of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” until I was out in L.A. visiting my son last November (late October - early November; something like that) and one night when his significant other was at work, my son and I watched about ten episodes in a row. I watched until my eyes closed of their own accord. I swear. My son said he knew I would be “hooked” once I saw one episode and of course he was right. I guess that speaks to a couple of things: my son knows me very well, and - hmmmm. Is there something a little dysfunctional, perhaps, about people who find Larry David so funny? I mean, he reminds me of several people that I know, and I like them (although they irritate me completely). But enough about that. We were watching “Curb Your Enthusiasm” episodes last night, and my GD7 and GS6 were playing in and out of GS’s room - staging “safaris” (complete with pith helmets and other safari paraphernalia) out to the kitchen and yes - you’ve guessed it - straight through the family room, and straight through “Curb Your Enthusiasm” - and making lots of “jungle noises” like screetching chimpanzees, trumpeting elephants and roaring lions and tigers. How adorable, eh? Okay, well, here comes the moment of truth: I did not find my own darling little grandchildren adorable. I found them irritating and annoying, and I was wondering why, when we were sitting attempting to watch something on TV at 11:00 at night, they were still traipsing around making noise and so on and so forth. At their age, my kids were all tucked safely in their beds at 8:00, and that’s the truth. Whatever happened to this new generation of parents who seem to feel that their kids should decide when they’re tired and when their bedtime should be? So I raised my kids with some structure in their lives, which contributed (I think, at least) to their doing well in school and becoming responsible human beings. And do they think that how I raised them was too harsh or something? TOO structured? Too…..something? And they feel the need to give their children complete freedom to romp and run about the house until they fall over from exhaustion? And that’s being a good and loving parent? Oh, blah! I can’t even begin to count how many funny lines of Larry David’s that I missed last night because one child or the other raced through hollering his or her lungs out. Now my GD does wonderfully well in school - right up there at the top of her class (and to be completely fair and accurate, I do believe that her mom & dad do insist that she go to bed at 8:00 on school nights; and they’re quite firm about homework, what she’s allowed to watch on TV, etc.) - but GS is another story. I believe I may have mentioned that he was diagosed with Autism, and while he’s actually doing pretty well, there are occasional problems with him, and his sleeping patterns are abominable. Even on school nights, he runs himself ragged - and DD puts him to bed from wherever he’s managed to poop out. She says it’s the Autism; I’m more inclined to believe that it’s poor limit-setting on her part, but hey - I TOLD you I’m getting old and irritable.

But back to my kvetching. (This is very cathartic).

This is the very group that I will be going to North Carolina with in a little under two weeks time. We are DRIVING down in a seven passenger mini-van thing - an “Uplander” (????) and there will be exactly seven of us, including the two children. It’s about a fifteen hour drive, and we’ll all share the driving - kind of rotate our way around the van, with each driver doing 3 hours (five adult drivers; 3 hours apiece - not hard, eh?). Those not driving can put on some headphones, listen to music and sleep. Maybe. I’m trying here, to picture GD & GS cooped up in a car for fifteen hours with only the occasional “get-out-and-walk-around, get-something-to-eat and use-the-restroom” breaks. Oh, Lordy, Lordy - what have I gotten myself into, anyway? Once we’re at my sis’s, I think we’ll be okay, because she has several bedroom suites on the lower levels of her house where the kids - and their kids - can stay. There are two bedrooms, two baths, a laundry room and a big family room with TV and everything else you might need down there. So, the kids, when we’re not out and about, can do their romping and running down there. Of course, each child will have the use of a laptop computer with a full complement of DVDs and what-have-you to keep them occupied. Hah! When I think of how we traveled with MY kids….well, never mind.

Yes, yes, I feel that “grumpy old woman” persona slowly taking over. I really do. And the sad part of it all is that I flat out don’t care. So much for the wise, warm and nurturing old crone whom everybody looks to for sage advice and unconditional love, eh? Nope, I’m just a grouchy old hag who plays a wise and nurturing grandmother-type on TV. LOL! Okay. Not. And I do - I DO love my kids - and my grandkids - but having said that, I certainly see the inherent need for a change in attitude as one progresses through the various stages of their lives.

I’m not old to the point where I’m at death’s door, or even close to it, I don’t imagine. But I have sort of “been there, done that” when it comes to procreating, raising the offspring, seeing them safely into adulthood, and now feeling the need to withdraw a bit. I know that most grandparents absolutely swoon over their grandchildren, and while I love mine very much and do whatever I can whenever I can for them, I am past swooning, I’m afraid. New babies I can work up a pretty good swoon for still, but by the time they’re running about making all sorts of (undisciplined) noise, I no longer swoon. I think that my kids love their kids very much, so having passed that capacity down from one generation to the next is no little thing, and I will give myself due credit for raising loving human beings. I’m glad of that.

But I have, of late, found myself feeling a little resentful at how busy their lives are, and how they seem to have to “make” time to see me. Silly and ungrateful, considering that they do make it, but it is somewhat strange to be on the receiving end of their emotional largesse when I used to be in charge. I think that’s what’s been bugging me, too - is that in my reality, they are supposed to look to me for permission to do thus and such, and now they do thus and such - and thusser and sucher - without so much as a by-your-leave, and I am sort of “along for the ride” in some respects. No longer CEO, you might say - now a retired exec with no staff to command, and just a salute in passing acknowledgement that I built the freaking company!

BUT, epiphanistically speaking (LOL) I think I have just now realized that life does have a “phasing out” process. I have done my job, done it fairly well, and now it’s time to bow out - time to decide what I want to do with the rest of my appointed years. I think that the irritation and annoyance I’ve been feeling is actually separation anxiety. I’ve been enabling myself to become irritated with them all beause THEN, leaving them when it’s my time to move on, will be less painful. For me. And, if I’m enough of a grouch and mean and miserable enough, it’ll be less painful for them, as well, to see me go. Good thinking, eh?

Oh, such craziness.

You’ve caught me in a weird mood. Or I’ve caught myself in a weird mood, eh?

I ironed this morning and effectively doubled my wardrobe. I have SO much stuff that I haven’t been wearing because it seemed like too much trouble to iron it - a few things that I haven’t had on my back yet this summer, and if I don’t hurry up and wear them once or twice, it’ll be winter and time to pack them up and put them away for the season.

I’m also trying to limit myself on my packing for this visit with my sister. Typically, I overpack to the point of ridiculousness and end up not even wearing half of what I’ve brought. BUT, there’s always something that I haven’t brought that would’ve been soooo perfect….well, you know what I mean. No, this time I’m going to pack smart for a change. With a little planning ahead, it shouldn’t be that hard. PLUS, we’re all going to have to learn to pack smarter, considering that the freaking airlines all want to charge us for checked bags now. Damned oil prices! Well, they’ve dropped a little in the past week. Maybe there’s still hope… Anyway, I’m going to really think through what we’re likely to be doing down there, decide exactly what I want to wear while we’re doing it, and bring just those things that I need and nothing more. ONE somewhat dressy (casual-dressy) outfit for going out to dinner in, but something I can wash, iron, and wear a second time if need be.

Oh, the other night? The kids all ordered pizza and grinders and chicken wings and onion rings. DH & I had a huge salad with chicken cubed into it, tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion, sliced green peppers and avocado. A slice apiece of pita bread. And it was GOOD! I like healthy food again! My foray back down the junque path seems over. Not that there won’t be the occasional stroll in that direction in the future - but brief strolls - brief. That’s the ticket! (We’ll see, won’t we?) It does tend to help, though, that I am forever haunted by the spectre of a fat little mother (mine) who wasn’t EXACTLY obese, but had a round little belly like a bowl full of jelly…etc. And long, thin stork legs. I don’t mind having her legs, but developing her belly would send me ’round the bend, and that’s the truth.

Okay, I am off to have my bath. Clean body, clean spirit. Something like that. At least smoothly shaven legs. Gawd, how I hate pickety legs!

Cheers & hugs,

Z

Kinda, sorta. I AM in a slightly better frame of mind than I was yesterday; it was hot and humid during the morning and early afternoon hours, but a late afternoon thunder storm seems to have cleared things away, and tonight it’s actually rather pleasant - even without the AC on, miracle of miracles! I worked quite prodigiously today, coming up for air so to speak only once or twice, and achieving pretty decent concentration which is always a plus, especially when negotiating one’s way through one of those gnarly federal grant applications. Tomorrow (Oh joy!) is the office picnic, always such a supreme bore, and in this instance, inconveniently timed, inasmuch as the proposal is due on Wednesday, and I still have several more sections to complete. About the best I can say for it is that they usually manage to have veggie burgers along with all the other not-so-great cookout fare, and that suits me well enough. I haven’t had red meat in months, now, and not only don’t miss it, but find it altogether unappealing. Thunder showers are predicted for tomorrow afternoon (again) so that will (hopefully) lessen the amount of time that I’ll have to spend making nice and trotting about trying to look as if I’m enjoying myself. If there’s some decent sunshine somewhere around noontime, I won’t mind catching a little of it - what with DH’s and my walks at the lake and our measured out doses of “vitamin D therapy” ala Jon Gabriel, plus this past Saturday at the beach, I’m turning a nice and toasty color. My dad always turned a wonderful mahogany shade, what with all of his post-retirement hiking about his acreage and tending his little vegetable garden and his many rose bushes, and my *tan* tends more towards the deep red/brown tones as well. I don’t want to overdo the sun and end up growing nasty little malignancies all over my face or develop deep lines and crevasses, but I do enjoy the sunshine so much, and really feel so much more alive with a healthy glow to my rapidly aging skin. So, if it’s nice tomorrow, an hour or so out of doors wouldn’t hurt.

Anniegirl, bless her heart, asked about my sister, and I’m ever so delighted to report that not only is sis recovering quite wonderfully, but is now up to two miles a day in her walks around the park near her house. The woman never ceases to amaze me, you know? I am SO looking forward to seeing her in a couple of weeks. My kids - my two local daughters, that is, and their hubbys and kiddos (Morgan of broken wing fame, although she’s about all healed up - DD30’s little girl - and Devon the dinosaur man, DD36’s little boy) and I are driving down to NC for a reunion of sorts. My DH can’t go, as it conflicts with a longstanding annual storytelling commitment at a 3-day renaissance festival sort of thing. But no matter - it’ll be lovely to hang about with my sis for a week or so, just us girls (and the sons-in-law, of course, but they may play some golf and keep themselves at least semi-occupied for part of the time). We’re leaving Thursday, August 7th, and haven’t yet decided exactly when we’ll come back, although the following Friday seems likely.

I have <gulp> recommitted with great determination to eating right and getting off a few more of these unlovely pounds. Oh, yes, feathers, I, too, as you know, rail against the unfairness of being metabolically challenged. I feel like I’m slogging my way through life surrounded by some kind of thick, sticky glue-like stuff that makes every step a real, gut-wrenching effort while others just seem to “fly on gossamer wings”, the bitches. But, I’ve hit the familiar brick wall again - can’t gain another ounce or I’ll go mad, so it’s back to counting calories (Yeah, Jon Gabriel…neat concept, but frankly, listening repeatedly to you saying the same damned thing on that CD has me asleep before you get past “Hello, this is Jon Gabriel…”) Counting calories, on the other hand, actually WORKS so long as you write everything down, add everything up, and stay within your limits. Not great fun, no, but it does produce results. That, and having a whey protein drink a couple of times a day, although I think I may try mixing it into yogurt and see how I like that. Oh, and high fiber, and lots of water. NO chocolate. Omigawd, feathers, that picture of the chocolate cake-type dessert had me salivating on my keyboard! But no. Not now, and not for a long while. I’m going to try (yet AGAIN) to finally get this monster under control, knowing full well that there will be slips and slides and occasional cartwheels off the wagon, sometimes quite deliberately and in full knowledge that it will make things that much harder for the next few weeks. But I’ll keep at it because I don’t really have any other choice. I am uncomfortable with myself and quite, quite miserable when my weight isn’t where it needs to be. But next life…. well, LOOK OUT, because this is going to be one effortlessly slim, svelte chick, you know?

Okay. Bedtime here. Eyelids drooping, shoulders demanding that I get prone…

Hugs to all…the net of jewels; I picture you all blinking around the world in a network of beautiful colors and thoughts -

Z

Yeah. That’s me on the far left, alright. This is the reson why I could never, ever, EVER live in Florida, y’know? I am sooo intolerant of humidity, and it seems like so far this summer, we’ve either had rain and gray skies or sun, but with about 95% humidity to go along with it. SO not optimum! Or maybe I’m just too danged old. I dunno.

Anyway, yesterday, DH & I packed up a small cooler with little, itsy-bitsy (8 oz.) bottles of water, ham & cheese sandwiches on high-fiber wheat, etc., etc. pita bread, and a small canvas bag with some original recipe sun chips, sun bloc (more blockage for DH, less for me) and a book, as well as our *matching* (I mean, is that cute or what?) beach chairs and (not matching) straw hats and drove down the ‘Pike to Revere Beach to catch the New England Sand Sculpting Festival.  http://www.reverebeach.com/

It was lovely - sunny and hot but with a brisk ocean breeze. Just perfect. We found an ideal parking space, left our paraphernalia in the car while we headed up to the strip where the sculptors were all lined up, took our time making our way down from beginning to end, and then walked back to the car, got our beach gear and went down to the shore line - we were probably a quarter mile down beach from the actual festival activities, and it wasn’t at all all crowded - couldn’t have been better. We did a little wave jumping - enough to get nice and wet, and then came back, lathered on the lotion and started reading our book. Pulled our lunch sandwiches out at @ 1:00, enjoyed them immensely, went back to reading, and then, at @ 3:00, carried our stuff back to the car and meandered back down to the festival area to see what progress had been made. VERY neat time. We headed home at @ 3:30-ish, got home at 4:30, both had quick showers, fed los gatos, and got dressed for a dinner date with friends in Framingham. Headed out again at 5:30-ish, enjoyed ourselves immensely with two couples that we always like getting together with, and got ourselves home, exhausted and ready to do some serious sleeping at about 11:30. 

This morning I went grocery shopping - no time yesterday - and bought a lot of fresh fruits, veggies, salad-makings and such. Spent quite a bit more than I intended to, but sometimes I just get sick of keeping track, you know?

Now I’m home, sitting in my air conditioned space, and loathe to move again. I even put on one of my summer cotton nighties. I’m not planning to leave the house again today, and if anyone happens to drop by (ack!) I have some shorts and a jersey lying handily across the foot of my bed.

So here’s the nitty-gritty, though. I may have lost some weight, but not enough, really, to feel absolutely good about myself. And that’s pretty sad, y’know? I felt like a slug at the beach yesterday, and no I am not comparing myself to those firm little twenty-somethings leaping around the volleyball net, either. No, no, I am not the worst-looking body around, but I am so far from *best* that I’m probably out of range entirely - as in from here to, well … as if from here to feather’s place. And no, I don’t aspire to be *best*, either - just best for me, really, and I’m not. Not even close. I always figured that when you got “old”, you could comfortably “let it all hang out” and enjoy being the “grandmotherly” type. Well, here’s a newsflash: it doesn’t work that way! I STILL can’t tolerate the jelly-flesh that I can squinch on either side of my waist, HATE the jiggly-wiggly undersides of my upper arms that make an appearance when least expected, and HATE, HATE, REALLY HATE that I never get to where I can just breathe a sigh of relief, pop a cookie or tow in my mouth and not worry about it. It doesn’t look like that’s ever going to happen, and it really annoys me, y’know? SOME people can eat whatever they want and not have to even pay any attention to it, because they just stay naturally slim. Me? Nope. If I eat anything that I shouldn’t. you can bet on the fact that it’ll show up around my waist sooner or later.

Ugh. I’m hot, haute, hawter, and feeling fayette as all get-out. The AC is just keeping it manageable. Just.

Blah.

Gotta go lie down and try to forget where I am and how ugly it is around here.

Back more pleasant - later.

Hugs,

Z

REALLY! And yesterday, too! And Monday too! I am no longer depressed. DH & I did a lot of housecleaning chores Monday morning and then went to Regatta Point on Lake Quinsigamond (only a stone’s throw from our house) and did a brisk hour’s walk followed by an hour on our beach chairs, reading and soaking up some desperately needed vitamin D. The pound and a half weight gain must’ve been water weight, because it’s gone now, and my fingers, which were a tad swollen, aren’t anymore. Yay and double-Yay! We also did our walk & vitamin D absorption Tuesday, too. I stayed home from work again. Needed sun more than I needed to see my office. Worked Wednesday, but it was okay - I’m taking next Monday off so I can have a (reasonably) long weekend, and we’re going up to N.H. Good weather is predicted. I have been re-energized and rejuvenated…AND the tomato bushes that I’m growing out in the yard in urns are FILLED with little green tomatoes. How’s THAT for a complete turnaround in weather AND mood? Hmmmm. Supposedly, what they say about New England is, “if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.” Hah! More like wait a couple of weeks!!!! But, I’m okay, now, and along with my better frame of mind is a new commitment to eating right. No more nibbles of cake here and a few cookies there. I really don’t know why I did that - the HEALTHY food that I make tastes WAY better, anyway! Last night I made our favorite Taco pizzas on flat (lavash) bread (100 calories for each big rectangular sheet). I spread a thin layer of pizza sauce on the bread, and then on top of that, spread the “taco meat” - faux crumbles, that is. Morningstar brand. I dice (finely) a green pepper, a red pepper, a half of a large Vidalia onion, throw it all into a big wok-type pan along with the faux meat crumbles, add a package and a half of “original” taco seasoning and about 3/4’s of a cup of hot water, stir, and cook on medium/low heat until peppers and onions are tender and the water is absorbed - about 15 minutes. So, I spread that on top of the layer of pizza sauce, and then add a layer of Fat Free shredded mozarella cheese. Bake it for about eight minutes in a 375 degree oven, cut each one (I make two - one for each of us) into six squares and serve with salsa, Fat free sour cream and, if you like it, guacamole. DH is a real avocado aficionado, so we always have them in the house, and always have guacamole with our taco pizzas. Yum! Problem is, there’s never any left over for the next day! WAY better than cake or cookies - seriously! (So why did I nibble at that crapola, huh? Huh? Wish I knew….)

So, spent another day up in the beautiful Berkshires today - meetings from 9:00 AM to 2:00 PM and then 2 1/2 hours home. Stopped at the market and picked up the stuff we’re planning to bring up to NH with us, and now I’m home - have pasta sauce simmering with turkey sausages and ground turkey meat, and of course the ever-popular chopped onions and red & green peppers. I’ll mix it all with *SMART* penne pasta (the high fiber, low calorie, low carb kind) and what we don’t eat tonight, I’ll pack in the cooler to take with us and share with the other odd-White Mountain-folk. Also some frozen spinach. DH & I love spinach mixed into our pasta, and we’ve trained the others to like it, too.

I didn’t sleep well at all last night - went to bed at 10:00 and was awake again at 2 AM, so I took a bath thinking that would be nice and soothing and put me back to sleep, but no luck on that front, so I’ve been up and running since 2:00. Auuuurgh, huh? I need to try to get a good night’s rest tonight, because I know that tomorrow night and the next night are going to be intensive discussion-fests and I hate not being at the top of my game with that crowd, let me tell you!

Well, off to do a little packing and what-not.

Hope you all have a nice, relaxing weekend!

Hugs,

Z

Or…..”My Life As A Damp, Crabby and Depressed Old Hogwart”. Okay, I don’t exactly know what a hogwart is (isn’t it some sort of creature out of the Harry Potter books or something? Or are they real snorting, snarfeling things that root through the undergrowth and resemble actual hogs?) I haven’t read the Harry Potter books, and I’m too darned lazy to look it up or ask DH, who probably knows, because he’s an avid National Geographic and Scientific American reader. He knows just about everything about everything. If that sounded snide, it probably was. He’s getting on my nerves, but since everything and everybody else is, too, I’ve got to figure this is mostly me and not him/them.)

Okay. I have gained a pound and a half. Way to GO, eh? Oh, the weather - the weather. I have already berated myself soundly in my previous post for complaining about the weather when others around the world have it so much worse, so I’ll just do without that disclaimer stuff. I am feeling oh, so sorry for myself - and, I suppose for my fellow east-coasters as well, but mostly for myself - because this summer, thus far, is turning out to be such a bust. Presumably there’s still a chance for it to get better, but that kind of presumption isn’t doing me one iota of good at this particular point in time. I am soooo tired of waking up in the morning to gray skies, walking around all day in gray, gray, gray, and then having the gray slowly fade to black as night takes over again. I can practically feel the grayness seeping through my pores, and I feel bloated and over-hydrated.

I’ve been indulging here and there in stuff I don’t need to be eating - a piece of cake here, a cookie there - and you all know the slippery slope that can have you sliding down in no time at all. An ounce here, and ounce there, and pretty soon, instead of losing that last damned ten, you’re trying to lose that last damned fifteen, then twenty - and then you’re disgusted with yourself all over again, depressed, miserable….and hogwarty. So a pound and a half is no laughing matter - not something that someone my age can take lightly: not when losing it is like losing twenty would’ve been twenty years ago.

I got my hair frosted and cut. Well, I didn’t “get” it frosted. DH and I did it. Really. I mean, isn’t that a scream? I bought two of those frosting/highlighting kits, and used the plastic cap that comes in them - I pulled through all the front and front/side hairs and DH did the rest. And then I mixed up a double batch of bleach, slathered it all on, covered it with the plastic overcap thingie (really just a rectangularly-shaped plastic bag thing) and waited for an hour. YES, a whole hour! My hair is beastly to bleach down. I even added a drabber to the bleach, because my natural hair is full of red and orange tones, and if you don’t leave the bleach on long enough for all those tones to wash out, I end up looking like a walking Maple tree in October - wonderful fall colors, doncha know? Unfortunately, I can’t seem to find a hairdresser who isn’t scared to death of being sued - scared that leaving the bleach on for so long will make my hair all fall out, or something - so doing it my/ourselves is my only option. My only option if I want a silvery blonde as opposed to a “golden” blonde. I’ve been too old for the “golden” blonde look since I was 30. Just never liked it on me. I’ve always leaned towards the ashy tones, and now that I have more than a few grays coming in, staying with the ashy tones makes perfect sense, because the grays blend right in and I don’t have to keep bleaching my hair quite so regularly as I would have to if I wasn’t getting those grays in. Anyway, I have ample hair, but it’s rather fine, and bleaching it adds a little body, so that’s a help, as well. So, we - DH & I - frosted it, and did quite a nice job - I guess his being an artist and all helps with pulling those hairs through, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why it should. I just know he does a good job with it, so why should I pay a hairdresser who will only end up giving me that awful “strawberry blonde”stuff, anyway? I did, of course, go to the hairdresser for the cut - I have a woman who can really CUT hair, and that’s what I needed as well - needed to freshen up the color and then get it shaped nicely again. I haven’t had it done in over a year, and the sides had somehow grown shorter than the back and the back was all long and straggly - lately I’ve just been wearing it up in a banana clip because there was no shape to it when I let it hang loose. So now it’s all fairly uniform in length - three or four inches below my ears -  but with choppy layers that give it some oomph and body, and it looks quite decent, if I DO say so myself. Having better hair is a plus right about now, but I have to say that what’s been simmering in the back of my mind for a few days now is maybe doing a few sessions at a tanning salon. A little crazy - what with the skin cancer warnings and all, and the salons aren’t nearly the rage they were a few years back - but I am seriously suffering from a lack of sunlight (and vitamin D, naturally) and am feeling like 20 minutes in a tanning booth might cheer me up a little. Something needs to, and that’s the truth.

Oh, Anniegirl - that needing to clean the house bit hits home more than you realize. I love, love, LOVE decorating and hate, hate, HATE that dull, repetitive, day-to-day upkeep. Back when I had a little bit of money and the kids were growing up, I always had a cleaning person - I always worked full time, and when I was home, I wanted to spend quality time with my kids, not be up to my elbows in housework. Now, of course, I have no little babies at home anymore (they are STILL my “babies”, you understand - they just don’t live with me) and there’s only me and DH - and he’s home all day, so I don’t feel like I should work all day and then come home and clean up after HIM, if you know what I mean. I COOK - because his cooking is so abominable (although he’s managed to bake some chicken and roast some sweet potatoes for a few suppers, and they’ve been perfectly edible) - but I don’t expect to have to clean, and haven’t done very much of it for quite a while, now. Of course DH doesn’t clean as thoroughly as I would (if I had to) so there are some things that I tolerate for weeks at a time and then just give it a good shot myself from time to time. But overall, I’m not real happy with the state of my house - and feeling too damned gray and depressed to jump up and tackle any of it right about now. We actually have a great screened-in porch that I’ve been meaning to scrub down really good and set up our wicker table and outdoor chairs, which is as we speak floundering in the basement - hang some plants out there, but haven’t even bothered. Who wants to sit out in a screened-in porch to watch it rain? Blah, blah, and DOUBLE-blah is what I say to it all!

My son just got a job designing videogames. Go figure. Yes, I knew he was really good with computer programming and such, but had no idea that he could actually do this sort of stuff. Quite a substantial increase in income for him. I guess he won’t be moving back to Massachusetts anytime soon, so I may as well start searching for inexpensive (IS there any such thing?) flights to LA and back for the fall. I’m actually looking forward to it - it’s smoggy in the mornings out there, but generally speaking, there’s not much rain, ever. That’s what I really, really need - someplace where there’s not much rain, and there’s the BIG BONUS of my son being there, as well. I do miss that child terribly.

So, the fourth of July has come and gone. We went to a cook-out at the home of some of my daughter’s best friends - a huge family affair with parents, grandparents, grandchildren, and every age human imaginable. I brought my famous potato salad that I can’t even eat myself anymore because of this allergy I’ve developed in recent years to eggs. I have a gigantic aluminum bowl, and into this gigantic bowl, I threw one large (diced) onion, two stalks of (diced) celery and a dozen hard-boiled eggs. I then proceeded, using my old-fashioned tin hand-chopper, to chop that stuff into the finest consistency imaginable. I chopped, literally, until my wrists were hanging limp and useless. (Oh, not entirely so - but they were sore, and that’s the truth!) Then, I cut up eight pounds of potatoes cooked perfectly and refrigerated overnight into approximately 1 1/2 inch cubes and added them to the mixture. Then I mixed all that stuff together with *lite* Miracle Whip and a few good squirts of Gouldens brown mustard. Oh. MY! Now I’ve got to say that, simple as that recipe is, my potato salad is known and revered from here to Florida and out to the west coast and back (courtesy of my son, of course) and I only make it three or four times a year just so people don’t get too used to having it and it’s not a “treat” anymore. (LOL). So there you go - a nice, crowd-pleasing, non-diet-friendly summer recipe. (Don’t for a minute think that using *lite* Miracle Whip will do you any good whatsoever!) So, I took my potato salad and a great big package of Italian turkey sausages, and off we went. And guess what! It sprinkled, it stayed cloudy, and all in all, it was a gray, unpleasant day YET AGAIN. Some intrepid folks swam about and threw a beach ball back and forth in the pool (which they said was lovely and warm in contrast to the chilly day) and there were a few games of kickball and a badminton game over in one corner of the lawn. I can’t say I was able to muster much celebratory spirit, although I smiled and told a joke or two (Old song that you young ‘uns wouldn’t remember called “The Tracks of My Tears”. “They say I’m the life of the party because I tell a joke or two….dee dee dah dah (hum here because I don’t remember the words) but something about inside being miserable and you can tell from “the tracks of my tears”) Well, I don’t have any tear tracks, but I’ve gained a pound and a half and I’m vitamin D deprived, and that’s not exactly conducive to shouting with joy. It was okay, though - the folks are very pleaant, and it was nice seeing them and all, but a ray or two of sunshine would’ve been soooooo much more pleasant.

We were planning to go up to our White Mountains retreat over this weekend - I actually took Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off in order to prolong it, but now we’ve cancelled. The weather predictions are for more rain and thunderstorms all week long until Friday, so there seems very little point in trekking up to the woods to experience more damp and grayness up close and personal. I’m going to go to work on Tuesday and Wednesday and save those vacation days for better weather. I will take Monday off, though. I really do need the break from work. I spent all this past week working on a huge, and extremely technical and complicated grant application, and my brain needs a little down time.

And that, folks, is “all she wrote”. Looks like plenty to me. A little more than plenty, but hey - I had a lot of kvetching to do!

Hope you are all doing well, happy, and most of all, I hope you haven’t gained a damned pound and a half!

Hugs,

Z

Oh, yeah. Monsoon season is upon us. Monsoon season? In Massachusetts, you ask? Oh, yes indeed. The weather patterns, they are a’changin…and that’s the truth. Now you can pooh-pooh Al Gore & global warming warnings all you like, but the proof, as they say, is in the pudding - or in this particular case, in the freaking thunderstorms that we can’t seem to shake. It feels like Flawridder, for pity sake! Hot, humid, and thundershowers every afternoon. We should have some seriously lush shrubs and plants this year, you know? Our tomatoes and peppers are already getting big and full-bodied.

I just checked the ten-day weather forecasts, and it looks like more of the same all through the 4th of July weekend. Oh, joy! We’re going up to our digs in N.H. and meeting up with the usual suspects - staying through Tuesday, and then we’ll take our time getting back, and I’ll work Thursday and Friday. Looks like we’ll have to bring our foul weather gear for sure.

But back to my cutting-edge analysis of weather - and weather-related states of mind. Now upfront, I have to say that I know full well that my personal griping and kvetching (about the weather) is self-centered, selfish and petty, given the terrible flooding they’ve been having in the midwest - the terrible weather-related disasters all over the world, for that matter - and I apologize in advance for this. I am constantly horrified at people’s homes being blown away, washing away, being torn to shreds in high winds. I can’t even imagine the terribleness of losing everything you own in that manner - going from being a homeowner one minute to a victim the next, huddling in a group shelter with dozens of other now-homeless people like yourself. Of course, I have to say that I’m horrified daily by ALL the tragedies that seem to befall humanity - from disaster to crime to accidents, disease, illness - and if you’ll permit me ONE brief cry in the wilderness, so to speak, I wonder at the purpose of prayer in the greater scheme of things. All these people who suffer all these terrible things - I mean, women who die of breast cancer, perfectly healthy people who jog, work out, eat only those things that are good for them  and ultmately drop dead of heart attacks, children who are abducted, people who are murdered, soldiers - and innocent civilians - who die daily in Iraq as well as in in numerous other parts of the world. I mean, what IS it? They didn’t pray sufficiently - or well enough - or in the correct way, or others didn’t pray for them in the right way, or whatever OR God has “other plans for them”, and if that’s the case, what’s the point of praying, anyway?

See? I will not pursue that line of thought because it leads nowhere. Forgive my digression. So, back to my petty kvetching about the weather, and how all this rain and these perpetually cloudy skies depress that hell out of me. Season Affective Disorder - S.A.D. - has always seemed awfully self-indulgent to me, but the older I get, the more I abhor humidity and wetness all around me. I MUST say, it’s a good thing I quit smoking back when I did, because this is such NOT-optimum weather for anyone with any sort of respiratory problems, and I was definitely getting short of breath. Did I ever mention how I started smoking? It was back in the early 70’s - everybody I knew smoked, but I never had. Well, I’d tried it once, as a young teenager out “behind the barn” with a few friends, came close to choking to death, and never, ever had the urge to try it again. Then, in college, everybody was hanging about in dim, smoke-filled bars talking about the war, about civil rights, about Kierkegaard and Jung, SMOKING <one thing or another> and sipping cheap wine for the most part, although we were by no means above slurping down a “pint” as they say over in the U.K.  Anyway, I felt left out. I did. But I STILL didn’t start smoking. Nope - not me. I waited until I was 28 years old to start. On the spur of the moment, in fact, I walked into a convenience store and bought myself a pack of Benson & Hedges menthol 100’s - because I liked the classy package, and their cigarettes didn’t have those ugly brown filters; they were as white as “the driven snow” - LOL, probably cleaner in my warped little mind. ANYWAY, the first one was a little rough, but by the time I’d gotten through that pack, I was hooked. So, I started, loved it, and within a year, all my friends had quit smoking!!!! I mean, can you believe it? But, being the intrepid one that I am (and late bloomer, besides) I kept right on with it - even found a friend or two here and there who smoked as well, and we kind of encouraged each other. Then, after nearly 30 years, I found myself wheezing a bit going up stairs, feeling completely oppressed when it was humid out, feeling like I couldn’t keep up with our friends on hikes and such, and I decided that I’d had enough. Did the self-hypnosis bit, and was done with it. And, like I was saying, not a minute too soon, because here we are, developing tropical weather patterns in new England, of all places, and if I were still smoking, I’d be gasping for breath right about now.

About the self-hypnosis and smoking VS. self-hypnosis and eating: WAY harder when it comes to eating, BUT it seems to have some gradual impact over time. With the smoking, whenever I think about smoking a cigarette, I automatically think about gasping for breath, and have absolutely no desire whatsoever to smoke. Yay. Case closed. Obviously can’t do that with eating, but I’m finding that I actually am beginning to develop negative feelings about unhealthy foods - junk - and when I think about eating them, I feel real physical discomfort through my midsection. Not pain - just a feeling of blubberiness; a marshmallowy feeling. I’m not sure that describes it exactly, but it DOES cause me to NOT want to eat that particular bit of junk, and that’s a good thing, even if it isn’t quite as stong as the not-smoking vibe. Maybe it will get stronger over time.

Anyway, the weather - and depression, crankiness, etc., etc. First of all, I thought winter was never going to get over with, was soooooo delighted when it finally left for good, and now I’m flailing about in this humidity and rain every day, with no end in sight, and have to tell you that I’m hating it. I am horribly cranky. I know I am. Bless DH’s long-suffering heart; he’s just so good about it.

Speaking of which, Congress has passed that spending bill that will extend unemployment benefits for 13 weeks - which will bring us right up to the week when DH’s first retirement check is due. Whoopee!!!! Poor man was really moping about, and I know that was on his mind - those weeks, I mean, with only my income coming in. Well, President Bush, they say, will sign it into law next week, and then we can breathe a sigh of relief instead of counting every dime that comes in and goes out. We’ve been saving against the time when his benefits would run out, so we would’ve been okay, but not as okay as we would’ve liked, for sure. So this is helpful.

Well, nothing special planned for this weekend - we’ll undoubtedly do some walking, I’ll do the grocery shopping, and we may have a cook-out with the kids if it doesn’t rain. (Hah! Fat chance of that…)

Alright. Enough out of me for the time being. Enjoy your weekends, mes amis -

Hugs,

Z

That great big glass building in the upper left, in case you didn’t know, is the Prudential or “Pru” Tower. The very top is a restaurant with a revolving floor that allows diners to look out in every direction. The view is downright astonishing. I only go up there a few times a year, and not on my own - only for business functions. The prices are pretty astonishing, too.  I DO, however, drive through the “Pru Tunnel” every day coming into and leaving Boston. Imagine all those floors on top of where I’m driving! That’s why I have accidental life insurance along with my regular insurance. If it all comes tumbling down some day, might as well leave my kids well-off, eh? Oh, and DH, too, of course. Anyway, once I’ve exited the tunnel, my building is about three minutes down one street and up another. I manage to avoid most of the Boston traffic tangles, actually. And free parking, so I can’t <really> complain. I know a lot of folks who are paying astronomical parking fees to come into Boston to work every day. I have no idea why I felt compelled to share this with you - after all, it’s not like it’s anything terribly interesting, but I WAS thinking about where I spend my life, who I spend it with, etc., etc., and realized that my surroundings - at least at work - are (sort of) interesting in a maybe uninteresting sort of way. (LOL!) Okay, this is admittedly rather self-indulgent and probably of no interest to anyone but myself. But that’s okay. I know you-all will humor me, right? Omigawd! A couple of years ago, I was Ooohing and ahhhhing over the prices of real estate down in the Charlotte, NC area. DH and I had discussed buying a good-sized house down there - 4 or so bedrooms and 3 or so baths, two car garage, etc. - because they could be had for as little as $150,000. We were talking about having it to retire to, and in the meantime for us - and the kids - to use as a vacation home. I can tell you that comparable properties in the Boston area were costing a million dollars and up - and 40 miles west, in the Worcester area, comparable houses were selling in the $700,000+ range. So, I mean, the North Carolina prices were crazy low back then. We ended up not doing it - there just never seemed to be a right time to get down there and look at properties, and then, of course, as most of you know, DH got fired from his job and we downsized considerably here on the home front. But, good grief! I recently was reading an AOL article about the real estate downturn and just out of curiosity, thought I’d check in on the Charlotte market. These SAME houses that were going for $150,000 a few years back are now listed in the $75,000 range! I mean, how crazy is this? Now you know that there will eventually be an upturn, so buying now could end up being an incredible investment over the long term. We like Charlotte because they have quite an up and coming art community, and it’s only an hour’s drive from my sister in Hendersonville. There USED to be $99 round trip airfare specials from Boston to Charlotte three or four times a year, too, so we were thinking (back when we were talking about buying a place) that it would be nothing to just pay for the kids and their families to fly in for a visit every few months. NOW, of course $99 would just about cover your bags! Anyway, I thought we should at least consider taking another look, you know? I actually saw some 3 bedroom, 3 bath condos listed in the $50,000 range, and that would be perfectly do-able for us. Of course I don’t think we could do it while DH is collecting unemployment - probably have to wait until he’s officially retired. I’m not sure how that would work credit-wise.

George Carlin died!!!!! He was 71 !!!!!! Omigawd, does that stink or what? I know sooooo many people who lived (and are living) WAY longer than that, and they aren’t half as funny as him!

My weekend eating was by no means stellar. In fact, I broke my own (new) rule and didn’t bother weighing myself. I knew I’d be depressed if I did. I’m already depressed because we’ve had nothing but thunderstorms and threats of thunderstorms and gray, overcast days for over a week, now. Okay, Saturday wasn’t bad. DH & I went walking at the same place that we walked last weekend, and enjoyed soaking up some vitamin D for a change. Also staked our tomato and pepper plants when we got back from walking. Then had really yummy faux chicken strips on caesar-ish salads with chopped cucumbers, diced plum tomatoes, avocado chunks, red onion and sliced black olives with low-cal, low-fat bleu cheese dressing. Sprinkled some almonds on top. It was delish! I was thinking, though, that it would really be good with some SMART (low carb/low calorie/high fiber) rotini pasta mixed in. Yeah, so that, after some exercise, etc., wasn’t in and of itself a bad choice at all. My bad choices were eating peanut butter sandwiches for both breakfast AND lunch, AND a dark chocolate (MUFA, right?) candy bar, AND a WW ice cream sandwich. Maybe other things, too. I tried not to look. Sunday was more of the same. I mean, nothing totally outrageous, but definitely “too much of a good thing”.

So, today for lunch I brought a box of frozen spinach, two Morningstar veggie burgers, and TWO SLICES OF LOW-FAT, 30 CALORIE-PER-SLICE CHEESE!!!!!! I just recently looked in the refrig in the employee lunchroom, and MY CHEESE IS GONE!!! Can you believe it? George Carlin died, we’re having weeks and weeks of thunderstorms and rain (DH just called to tell me that the electricity is off at home) AND MY CHEESE HAS BEEN STOLEN. Is there no justice - no fairness at all - in the world? Who would take my cheese? I feel a sinus headache coming on. Just for the record, my breakfast was a  cup of fresh strawberries (Oh, alright. A cup and a half), a fresh pear and a cup and a half of oatmeal squares. I am RIGHT back on the wagon this morning, and someone has made off with my cheese. I can hardly believe it. Such blatant disregard for the needs of fellow employees! There is a thief in our midst! I am appalled and angered! Like the people who work here couldn’t afford to buy their OWN cheese, for pity sake!

Ah, well. Just a part of that network of events that comprises my life, doncha know? Keeps things interesting, y’might say. (Or, y’might NOT say. I’d still rather have my cheese than an interesting mystery to solve).

The sun is coming out through the clouds around here. I hope the electricity gets restored at home before all the food in my fridge rots. I just did my weekly grocery shopping on Saturday morning, and it wasn’t cheap by a long shot.

Well, that’s all for now, dear folk -

Hugs,

Z

Just busy, that’s all. Nothing special or exciting - just busy. We had a fundraising reception with a whole bunch of muckety-mucks at the Boston College Club, which is on the 36th (or 39th - I’m not sure) floor of the Bank of America corporate (Boston) headquarters overlooking Boston Harbor, and the view was simply magnificent - akin to what you see taking off in a plane. Lofty. Almost above the clouds, which is, of course, where a majority of these people feel that they belong by birthright - or by virtue of their inflated assets, at any rate. The food left a lot to be desired, however - with little trays of bite-sized bits of this n’ that offered up by waiters in white coats and black bow ties. The furnishings and accoutrements were, of course, of the finest, most expensive quality, the silver so thick and heavy that you could barely lift your fork with that little crumb of something or other on it. Have I mentioned how much I abhor these events? When I have to slip into the “little black dress” and absurdly high heels (not that high for you young ‘uns, I’m sure, but WAY high for an old over-the-hill thing like my own self)??? You’re supposed to look like you’ve got some class - supposed to look like one of them doncha know? Because they like to “do deals” and give to their friends - they don’t give a poop about anybody who might truly need the programs and services that their money helps to fund - oh, no; they’re there to see and be seen. They’re there to have their picture snapped with someone higher (never lower) on the income & influence ladder than they are. They write checks simply to outdo the nouveau riche guy at the next table - fine for us, but I mean, c’mon! How crass can you get? Must you get dressed up in black tie and stand around sipping wine and all that in order to share some of your money with the less fortunate? I say, just send us a check! Stay home, put your feet up, swig on a beer if you want and watch TV in your underwear. I don’t care WHAT they do - but wouldn’t it be a whole lot easier to just skip the freaking reception and send a check?????

Oh, blah. So, I didn’t get home until 10:30 or thereabouts on Wednesday night, and then had to drive (2 1/2 hours each way) to North Adams for a meeting up there yesterday. Can anybody say “exhausted”????? Needless to say, I had no problem whatsoever sleeping last night, and slept soundly until the alarm clock buzzed at 5:30 this morning.

I overindulged a bit this week - nothing outrageous, exactly, but I’ve been a tad on the hungry side for some reason. Dying for something sweet. Don’t have a clue why. Gotta get on the scale tomorrow, though. My new routine is to weigh in every Saturday.

More planting tomorrow, along with my usual grocery run. More walking, too, with DH. It looks, incidentally, like Washington is going to pass the unemployment extension along with the additional funding package for the Iraq war, so good news accompanied by bad, in my opinion. I think if we could close the war down by foregoing the unemployment extensions, DH and I would rather just tighten our belts and go without. Of course, his retirement income from Social Security will kick in when he turns 62 - he filled out the paperwork, and I think he said he’ll get his first check towards the end of October. We were expecting his unemployment to stop in mid-July, but have planned accordingly, so we could survive well enough with or without the extension. I realize, of course, that not everyone is in that position, and no doubt need the extension, so I shouldn’t speak for the general (unemployed) population. But I think it stinks that the only way they could pass it was to tack it onto a war spending bill. I don’t disapprove of veteran’s benefits at all, but I sure would like it if we had fewer veterans because there was no war to fight, you know?

I’m a little bit apprehensive about weighing myself this week. Oh, well - there’s always next week if I didn’t do so well this time around, right?

Have a happy, healthy and oh, so wonderful weekend, everyone! We DO deserve it, yes?

Hugs,

Z

Hee hee….I guess most of my blogmates are busy celebrating father’s day with DH & the brood. Well, here’s wishing everybody a teriffic day. Me? Well, I guess this is one of the casualties of matrimonius interruptus, so to speak. AND remarrying someone with no offspring. Oh, my kiddos will stop by later on, undoubtedly, with cards and little gifts for DH - as their much loved step-dad - and DS will call from the west coast later (much later; he worked last night) in the day, but the girls will be taking their bio-dad (kind of reminds me of bio-hazard) out to dinner after church. Along with my son-in-law’s dad, who is a real, honest-to-goodness gem of a man, and if it weren’t for the ex going along, DH & I would most certainly accompany them. But, things are what they are, and so there will be no (or at any rate, very little) “hopping on pop” here today. And none of you need start thinking in any lewd and lascivious directions, either, because I am most certainly not hopping anywhere, and you can take that to the bank. yes indeed. LOL!

Okay, now for the good news! Oh, it’s not all that momentous, but I did finally force myself onto the scale yesterday morning, and have lost another 2.5 pounds. I am indeed pleased, because I haven’t felt like I was “dieting” for months, now, and yet there does seem to be a definite downward progress. Not fast, by any means, but definitely moving downwards, and I am quite happy, for the first time in years and years, with how and what I eat - and the results. For so long, it’s been a matter of eat what I want and steadily GAIN weight, or be miserable eating according to some diet plan and be half-way happy with how I look. Finally - FINALLY - I am eating well, I am happy with what I’m eating, AND I’m steadily losing as opposed to gaining weight. I’m actually beginning to think that maybe by the end of this month I’ll haul out the bathing suit that I invested in last year and try that sucker on (in the privacy of my bedroom; let’s not get too carried away, here…). But wouldn’t it be lovely if during July and August, I could take myself to the beach and actually have my bathing suit on and ENJOY myself instead of wearing a pair of jean shorts over the stupid suit?

In the meantime - more of the same in terms of eating well and exercising (walking) as much as possible. I really admire those of you (Ms. Close - omigawd!) who work out regularly at fitness centers because just the thought of it makes me need a nap. But DH & I have been getting out and trying to stay as active as possible - yesterday was a nice day here in the unpredictable northeast, and we went and did the grocery shopping and then after bringing the stuff home and putting it away, we had a modest lunch and went down to Lake Quinsigamond where we soaked up some vitamin D (VERY good for you, according the Jon Gabriel, eh, feathers?) and walked for 45 minutes in the process. Lovely walk; we really enjoyed it, and plan to go there again soon (except it’s raining today, dangit!). The dirt walking path meanders along the lake, through fields, and into and out of the woods surrounding the lake. Just lovely, really, and yesterday was a little overcast, but sunny-ish and not too hot. Here’s part of the lake (It’s close to five miles long)

and heres part of the walking path:

DH, of course, was born and raised in Texas, while I am a New Englander born and bred, and don’t ask me why my font got smaller after I inserted that last picture because I am also technologically challenged and haven’t a CLUE why it happened or how to fix it. So, if anyone is reading this, now would be the time to go get your glasses or pop in those contacts. Anyway, I raised my kids in Worcester, and many of these places that DH and I are now “rediscovering”, so to speak, are places where my kids and I spent time - Lake Quinsigamond, for example, better known to us locals as Lake “Quinsig” was where their high school rowing teams met, and they played tennis on the public courts at Lake Park, and even put in some beach time there, too. Of course, once the kiddos were grown and off pursuing their own lives, I didn’t have much reason to revisit these places until now, and I’m just now remembering why I did raise my kids here - all the wonderful resources: parks, lakes, recreation, hiking, sports stuff, etc. within city limits - and Worcester is second to Boston, the second largest city in Massachusetts, but so much of it still retains its rural character (the house where my kids grew up was about a ten minute drive from downtown Worcester, but we were on a dead-end street with huge expanses of lawn and shrubs between us and our neighbors, and our backyard bordered on a big forested area.) So, anyway, here I am, with DH, exploring the old haunts and getting in better shape besides. Not a bad way to spend your declining years, eh? Nice, too, with gas prices as high as they are, to be able to find things to do within a two-or three mile radius of home. Speaking of which, it’s now costing me $80 a week at the pumps to drive back & forth to work. SO not optimum! I’m considering making a request at work to telecommute a couple of days a week at least.

Well, it’s getting along after noontime, here, and I’m still in my nightie, I’m afraid. Wet and rainy outside, so we won’t do any walking today. The kids are supposed to be coming by @ 5:00 so I should try to make this place a little tidier.

Hope you’re all having a wonderful day and that you have lovely upcoming weeks, as well!

Hugs,

Z