Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
|
|
| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
|
0 Comments:Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Tuesday, October 07, 2003 What is it about short weeks that makes them feel as if they were not quite real weeks? Why do I feel like, if I’m only here 4 days, I probably ought to take a long lunch to go shopping or slip away early and take a walk through the woods with BD? And if I’m only going to be here 3 days, well, shucks. That’s not really going to work at all. And if I did as much 5 days in a row as I can cram into a truncated week, think of all the stuff I could accomplish! Why is perception so often at odds with reality? Of course, accomplishments don’t mean all that much to a process person. But having been raised in a product household, there are childhood voices that still live and nag, deep in my psyche. Anyway, this week will have a bite taken out of the middle when I go back to the city for Dad’s surgery. In the mean time I’m soaking up the autumn delights. We even opened the windows in the library yesterday, to welcome in the beautiful air. I feel like Leo Lionni’s little mouse, Frederick, who stored up colors and scents and sounds while the other mice stored up food. When the bleak gray of winter sapped all the joy out of the little mice they asked him to share what he had stored. He pulled from his cache his store of poetry. Usually in the fall I arrange to take a week off. Last year it was the week after Montpelier - so I could play with toys. I may be able to squeeze in a day or so sometime this fall, but probably not during October - too many other things piling up. But by gum - I am going to be sure to fit it in next year. I pulled out Sigvaldi yesterday. This sweater was begun long before I joined WW and it is really quite enormous on me now. The neckline hits somewhere half way down my collarbone and after some consideration, I have decided to alter the neckline by decreasing away all the white stitches and knitting a neckband of white, framed with brown stitches. Other than being loose enough to wear another Lopi sweater (albeit knit smaller) underneath - it is a gorgeous thing. It might be nice to try to finish it too, before the KR Retreat - since I bought the yarn there last year and Carodan Farms will be a vendor again this year. Hmmm. It’s a thought. I don’t really seem to hit deadlines very well, but it’s possible - hmmm. I’ve pulled out my winter sweaters. All of them are pretty huge on me now, though I’m wearing the wonderful alpaca thing I made for my first EPS sweater as I sit and type. The computer room is the coldest and hottest room in the house, depending on the season. Flidas needs a bath - and the cap sleeved cowlnecked Dune sweater is really just way too big to wear in public. I put it on over a turtleneck the other day, to walk through the woods, and it was a great windbreaker! And it was not as itchy with the t-neck underneath. But it has that 1970’s layered look (Do you remember wearing a short sleeved T-shirt over a long sleeved one? Sort of a Florence Henderson Brady Bunch look?) But here in the woods, who’s looking anyway? The Dune is such a gorgeous yarn, and I don’t think they still make that color, that I am tempted to rip it out and make something that fits - but hey - even typing those words feels like more work than I want to do. Tonight is my WW meeting. This whole week my home scales have given consistent evidence of my body playing catch-up with the weight loss. The metabolism kicked in, the hormones began to pump and the scale was lower than it has been in, lo, these dozen years. And then, this morning, the needle pointed back up to the same old weight I was 2 weeks ago. Is something really sinister going on? Is this some sort of plot? Or is it that, as I near the end of this process, in typical Bess who hates to finish anything fashion, I’m not finishing this diet either. I’m just not sticking to the program. I already know not to drink sodas on the Monday and Tuesday before weigh-ins. But what about Shoney’s salad bar - and vegetables - too much salt? and the V-8. I know that’s a big salt dose. Is it water? Is it secret devil torture? Is it sloppy record keeping? Are the stars lined up to hinder? I thought they were supposed to be my friends this fall!! Well. It’s moot. I’m in this WW thing for good. and probably for life. Like giving up smoking, I’m really giving up seriously sloppy eating. If the psyche and body want a little rest at this nice new plateau weight, I can deal with that. But the overall thrust will remain in the realm of realistic portions of well balanced meals. I am not going back to the fat old me. She was a costume I wore while I got over empty nest stuff. I am long since over it and it’s time she was returned to the rental place. Anyway, I shan’t be able to post about it tomorrow, since I will be driving at Crack-0-Dawn to get to the hospital before Dad’s asleep. In fact, I probably won’t post again till Friday or even Saturday. Hence my comments now. posted by Bess | 7:03 AM |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
||||
|
|||||
40
