Weighty Matters

The concert was amazing, despite the two hour delay due to a thunderstorm blowing through the area.  Once the threat of lightning spearing performers or people in the audience passed, the PWTB let us back into our seats and the concert started despite the intermittent rain.  Luckily, just hours before I’d purchased a brand new rain coat at the L.L. Bean store.  I was prepared!

Bruce and the band entertained us for three hours and forty-five minutes, doing 33 songs – not counting the entire stadium singing Happy Birthday to the Boss at the end.  Bruce turned 63 today.  I don’t know about his diet, but the man seriously works out.  He is very fit, and has to be to keep performing and touring this way.  (Allow me a shallow moment.  Whatever exercises he does to work his glutes is highly effective.  IMNSHO, the man has an excellent ass.)

Anytime I go to a Springsteen comment, it’s going to be a major hit of happy, but I had some particularly fine moments yesterday.  Again, I celebrated ease of walking.  It didn’t matter where we parked, I didn’t worry about wearing myself out or straining my knee before the show even started.  Our seats were only about a dozen rows from the top of the big football stadium which meant we had to climb up about a dozen rows.  While it was still a bit challenging on my weaker knee, this was not nearly as traumatic as a couple of years ago when I had to stop several times to catch my breath while ascending to my seat.  Good thing because, since they evacuated the “seating bowl” before the storm, we ended up having to do the climb twice.  Like my airplane seat the day before, once I reached my seat I could comfortably sit.  I wasn’t squeezing the people to either side and, when I stood up to dance (frequently), I didn’t feel like I was blocking the view of everyone behind me.  Booyah!

Prior to the concert, I had a great deal of fun with friends.  We went shopping.  The stores up here in the Northeast have their summer merchandise on sale at great clearance prices.   I ventured into yet another department store.  This time it was Macy’s, where I haven’t shopped for clothes for myself in more than 20 years.  This is much easier to cope with when I have friends around to offer support.  I was able to actually zip myself into a pair of quality shorts that are two sizes smaller than I’m wearing now.  The fact that I could get them on and close the zipper was somewhat miraculous.  I won’t wear them this tight, but they’ll be just right in a month or two.  At 65% off, they were also a bargain, as were the khaki cropped pants one size smaller than I’m wearing that I discovered I can actually fit into.  My body is changing faster than I thought!  Taking advantage of the great prices, I found a top on clearance at Macy’s and another pair of smaller pants at Lane Bryant.  This allows me to plan ahead for where I’m heading without spending a boat load of money.

The L.L. Bean trip was necessary and, on the surface, a bit daunting.  The raincoat I have at home is huge on me now, so much so that when I wore it to prepare for T.S. Isaac, rain got in through the gapping collar and I was soaked on all layers.

I’m not used to being able to walk into a “regular” store and find stuff.  I knew that I could order what I wanted from the catalog, and I was fairly confident that I now would fit into a woman’s 1X or 2X size raincoat.  My friend suggested we try the store first because there’s no sales tax on clothes in Jersey and I could feel and assess the garment when on.  Imagine my delight when I found exactly what I wanted and could actually wear it!  Bonus, it’s a two-in-1 which means it has a fleece layer that I can leave in or zip out.  I’m going to be up in the North again at Christmas and my winter coats are also way too big.  I’ll be able to use this coat to stay warm on that trip.  Not only do I now feel that I’ve gained a functional coat, but each time I shop a store that is not specially designed for “plus size” women, it builds my confidence.

This weekend, I’ve been really social which means eating out for most meals.  Everyone I was with knows that I had weight loss surgery.  They’re all great, loving, supportive friends.  I don’t wig out over what they’ll think about my food choices.  The ones on Friday specifically asked if there was anything special that I needed.  At this stage of my recovery, I can eat almost any kind of food if I want as long as I remain careful about how I eat and the quantity I consume.  This creates less stress.  I still travel with my standbys — cheese wedges and peanut butter — but most of the time I’m confident that I can fit my needs pretty much everywhere.

Take Cheesecake Factory for example.  We ordered mostly appetizers which provided a selection of yummy food without overloading our plates or tempting me to overeat.  I was able to create a tasty, adequate lunch for myself out of steamed edamame, white bean hummus, and beet & goat cheese salad.  My friends shared and then also had appetizers of their own which they were willing to share if I was interested.  Even with three of us, we had plenty of edamame and hummus left.  The friend who was going to the concert with me took the hummus home since I didn’t have access to a fridge for storage and snacking where I’m staying.  She also took home the edamame to transfer to a resealable plastic bag.  We brought that with us to the concert so I had some protein to much on for the evening.

Today at lunch with friends, we went to a restaurant that offered a wide range of dishes, including several small plate selections.  I had lamb sliders with feta.  There were three on the plate but I was satisfied with two, leaving behind the buns.    A friend and I shared a dessert — yummy chocolate truffle cake of which two bites more than satisfied my craving.  Tonight’s dinner included beef teriyaki.  I’m happy that Janet’s mother is going to enjoy the large portion of leftovers from my dish. 🙂

With all of the activity of visiting with friends, shopping, eating out and a terrific concert, I’m happy to say I haven’t neglected my exercise.  We hoofed around a lot yesterday, to say the least.  While it might not exactly have been a workout, from walking around a mall to climbing all of those stadium steps, I feel like I wasn’t lazy.  This morning I took advantage of the hotel’s health club and logged good cardio time on the recumbent bike and treadmill.  I can squeeze in another session tomorrow before I head to the airport for the flight home.

Hearing that I’m doing so well could be getting boring for everyone.  I hope not, but if so, please stick with me.  I’m sure that sooner or later I’ll run into a stumble, obstacle, or new realization.  In the meantime, I continue to practice recognizing the positive progress and acknowledging it to myself.  Success begets more success.  I want to keep building onto and strengthening my foundations and perpetuate more success in the future.

I’ve mentioned Springsteen in the past.   Not long after I began eating solid foods again last February, a friend and I did a road trip to Tampa to see him and the E Street Band in concert.  I’m going again this weekend, flying up home to New Jersey.  That’s the reason for the timing, but honestly, I’m even more excited about getting to see several friends who I normally only visit with about once a year.   Some of them have been my friends since college years, just about the time my fandom of Bruce and the band started.  Some of them have been friends since the mid-90s.  One I’ve known since 2006.

With the exception of the ones I’ve known since college, none of the friends I’m seeing this weekend have every seen me at this weight.  They’ve seen my recent pictures, but I believe the changes are more noticeable in person.  We’re all excited to spend time together.  Since the time I shared that I was having the surgery, even across miles and states, every single one of them has provided love, encouragement and support and they’ve celebrated my progress and success.  It’s going to be so much fun!

Now onto Bruce.  From the time I became a fan in 1975 with the release of the Born to Run album, I’ve been drawn to his music because of the lyrics and his remarkable ability to create characters and tell stories in his songs.  Even though we did not share a common background, except that we’re both Jersey born, he tapped into universal struggles, goals, aspirations and obstacles.  Whether someone is the son of a bus driver or the daughter of a doctor, everybody dreams of who they want to be and what they want to achieve.   Wealthy doesn’t shield you from a broken heart and a working class background doesn’t make your dreams less worthy.

So even though I’m not the character in his song (Although, please note that he has frequently named female characters Mary.  Just sayin’.), I can still crank up the volume, belt out, “I’m pulling out of here to win!” and feel the determination deep in my soul.

I have never physically lived in the South Dakota Badlands, or even visited, so I don’t visualize the setting in Bruce’s song “Badlands” when I sing along.  Instead I remember when I was in a tough situation, feeling heartsick, lonely, frustrated and all the more determined to break free of the turmoil and find joy in my life.  That’s why I identify and sing along with the lines,

For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside
That it ain’t no sin to be glad you’re alive.
I wanna find one face that aint looking through me
I wanna find one place, I wanna spit in the face of these Badlands

I could pull out lines from dozens of songs that have inspired me over the decades.   I hope to hear many of them Saturday night.  You can bet that I will be on my feet, singing and dancing to every song.  Bruce shows aren’t just concerts to me.  They’re celebrations and I enjoy every minute.  (I’ve lost count but this is either the 19th or 20th full length Bruce concert I’ve attended.  Maybe the 21st.  The first was in August 1978 at the old Spectrum in Philly.)

That dancing’s going to come a lot easier this year.  Hell, just climbing the steps to our seats will be easier to accomplish.  That’s another thing to celebrate, along with the simple fact of being glad that I’m alive.

Childhood obesity is a growing (no pun intended) problem in this country.

As it is with human kids, so is it a concern with four-legged furkids.  I took a good look at Pyxi today and realized that she’s chubbed out some.  She’s a petite English Cocker Spaniel so extra weight shows up, even accounting for the fact that both she and her brother, Nat, are shaggy right now and need their extra fur clipped.

I haven’t changed their portions for breakfast and dinner.  I don’t overload them with treats.  I’ve even asked the kennel tech where I board them to be mindful of how many treats they get during the day.  She’s a wonderful woman who adores all of the dogs in her care and my two love her — but she spoils them rotten.   In the last month or so, I’ve noticed that if Nat walks away from his food bowl without finishing, Pyxi sneakily goes over and helps herself, as long as he isn’t in the kitchen.  Still, the few times that she got away with it before I discovered her pilfering and took away the bowl weren’t enough to make her chunk up.

So, I took a good hard look at the only other thing in the equation and the reason smacked me upside the head.   They aren’t getting enough exercise.  That, my friends, is squarely my fault.

When we first became a family back in 2007, I was obese, but hadn’t reached the “ohmyGodI’mtoofattowalk” stage that I hit when I amassed an additional 35-40 pounds on top of my already high weight.  Those extra pounds were the final straw when my knee and my breathing said, “No can do” to any form of extended exercise.  Prior to that point, I could still manage a mile or two.  A couple of evenings a week I would take Nat and Pyxi out when I got home from work and we’d go up to the Seven Mile Bridge for a nice walk.   They are always excited to go out and go for a car ride.  They were still excited when we got to the bridge.  After about half of a mile, however, they’d start to slow a little, turn around and look at me as if to ask, “Are we done?”  Bless their lazy little doggy hearts.

I don’t remember exactly when I stopped this routine.  It might have been a couple of years ago when we were doing dog classes.  It was a time thing.  When I got home from work, we trained and practiced, which was still, I guess, enough exercise.  I guess it was really about a year and a half ago after classes stopped (the trainer relocated) and we hit summer season when it was honestly freaking hot — too hot for them even in their shorter hair styles, and dangerous hot on their paws.  (Rule of thumb, or soles — if pavement is too hot for you to walk on it in bare feet, it is too hot for the pads of your dogs’ paws.)  Plus, I had increasingly more difficulty walking even short distances.

So, here we are.  I’ve lost weight and am much more fit with more energy than in a number of years.  I’ve focused a lot on my exercise routines, getting moving, trying new things and so on.  My muscles are more toned and my cardio ability has improved a great deal.  Yay for me!

Unfortunately, I’ve been neglecting my dogs’ exercise needs.  That’s horrible!  I love my dogs and am ashamed that I’ve let their fitness slide.  Rather than weep, moan, tear out my hair, and castigate myself, I’m focusing on improving the situation as soon as possible.  They’re five years old and prime health and fitness is definitely attainable.

Today I worked most of the day at home on my next paper for class.  Around 5 p.m., I finished the first draft and shut down the computer.  It’s been overcast most of the day but at the time didn’t appear to be threatening rain anytime soon.  I figured that the bridge would not be too hot, so I put on my walking sneakers, grabbed a couple of doggy bags, leashed the pooches and headed out.

Good Lord, but it’s worse than I thought.  I have more energy in my stride than I realized.  Nat and Pyxi?  Not so much.  By a quarter mile they’d gotten over their, “Oh, wow!  A walk!  What’s that smell?  Ohh, I wanna go over here.  No over there.  Wait, what’s that?” excitement and were plodding along.  Before we hit the half mile mark, they’d slowed and looked around at me a few times.  I was definitely catching up and had to keep urging them along.  I knew that it wasn’t hot enough that they were actually suffering, they just weren’t used to a steady walk of any distance.  (Mind you, when they’re out in the yard, they rip around, chase each other and come barreling back to the house at full speed when I call.)

I started thinking about it like I would if they were people who were just restarting a regular exercise routine.  I decided we’d start with a brisk mile and build our way up.  I was definitely the most brisk of the three of us on the last quarter mile, but they made it without flopping on the ground and asking me to carry them.   We arrived home, they slowly ate dinner and then enjoyed their evening chew treat.  Now they’re sacked out taking naps.

From this point, I need to decide on a strategy and that includes figuring out how to work regular walks into a schedule already crowded with work, school, Zumba, Tai Chi, manicures, and other commitments.   Here’s the reality for this week, I am not going to make it back to the bridge with them because of after work commitments and a trip out of town for a few days.  However, there is no reason that I cannot at least get them out for walks in the neighborhood.  I can get up earlier some mornings and be more efficient.  Instead of just letting them out to play in the yard, we can take a walk before I hit the shower and get ready for work.  It’s a safe neighborhood, so there’s no reason that I can’t walk them around even if it’s dark when I do so because I have a commitment earlier in the evening.

Trip schedules aside, I usually do not have other things already scheduled on Mondays, alternate Thursdays, and Fridays after work.  Those are going to be our regular “bridge walk” evenings.  If  something comes up on one of those days, or on the weeks where I’m commited on a Thursday, we’ll make it up on the weekend.   We’ll start with a strong mile for a couple of weeks and then increase the distance, even if we reduce the pace toward the end.  Once we’re able to maintain the brisk pace for the whole distance, we’ll go a little further.  And so on, and so on.

As the days get shorter I’ll find a way to go into work earlier so that I can leave earlier and still get in those walks.  This will be a good replacement routine for me, too.  My pool isn’t heated so there are a few months of the year when the water is simply too cold for me in the late afternoon/early evening.

Nat and Pyxi, trust me.  Eventually, you’re going to feel better about this walks.  You’ll enjoy more than the car ride on our outings.  The Stella Family is going to get fit together.

Brother and sister cuties – Nat & Pyxi

I was at the salon earlier this evening getting a manicure and pedicure.  My hairstylist and my nail tech are also friends.  While one worked on my feet, and I enjoyed the massage of the pedi chair, my hairstylist friend was waiting for her next client.  She’s signed up for an online dating service and was asking us for input on what age range she should put in, how much difference there is between “regularly” and “socially” in terms of drinking alcohol, etc.   I’m 20 years older than she is so my idea of an acceptable age range for me is different than for her, but she asked me anyway.

My standard response is that I don’t date any guy I’m old enough to have given birth to.  I honestly don’t know what I consider “too old”.  When I was 39, I dated someone who was 53.   A guy in that age difference range to me now would be on Medicare.  Not that there’s anything wrong.  I know some vibrant, sexy people who are in their mid-to-upper 60s.  It just seems strange to me sometimes to remember that I’m going to be 55 on my next birthday.

Back to the whole dating thing.  I haven’t dated in years.   Yes, I firmly believe that men who truly are attracted to obese women are in short supply.  This does not mean they don’t exist.  There are blog readers and commenters here who could testify to the fact that they do and they’re wonderful guys.

Unfortunately, they’ve been in short supply in my life, even moreso over the last several years.  By and large, I’m okay with this absence of a love relationship.  It is what it is and I refuse to be someone who is miserable, dissatisfied, and unappreciative of the wonderfulness of life because I don’t have a guy.

In the course of the conversation this evening, it dawned that as I lose more weight and shape up more with my fitness regime, I might actually meet someone who is interested in dating me.   If I do, someone else might have to point it out because I’m pretty much oblivious to the cues.  Be that as it may, I’m not sure how I’ll react if someone flirts or asks me out.  I’m not adverse to the idea of dating or even having a relationship.  At least, I don’t think that I am.  It’s been so long since I considered the possibility, that I honestly don’t know what I want.

I’m sure not up for the idea of joining a dating site.

After pondering this tonight, I’ve decided that I honestly don’t have to stress over a hypothetical situation.   Perhaps all I need to do right now is agree to be open to considering the idea if it happens.

When I used to binge or fall off the food plan wagon, I’d stay down for a while.  If I’d abstained from compulsive overreating for a while, sometimes these binges were huge and I stayed in relapse a lonnnng time.  It is much easier to stay on the horse than remount.

As discouraging as it can be for me to slip and screw up my food plan now, it is very encouraging that I appear able to get myself back on track fairly quickly.  I’ve already bounced back from the bread binge.  As planned, I’ve chosen foods that are easier on my stomach.  Take today, for example.  I started with a protein drink for breakfast.  I had a few roasted peanuts as a mid-morning snack.  At lunch I had some homemade tomato soup.  In the last afternoon, Greek yogurt and strawberries made a nice snack.  Tonight’s dinner — a few forkfuls of lowfat egg salad and some homemade broccoli soup with a sprinkling of low fat cheddar.  For an evening treat, I ate a Skinny Cow ice creamish sandwich.

At no time did I eat compulsively or overdo my portions.  Not only do I feel physically better, but my emotional state balanced out a good bit, too.  Booyah!

This was my first effort at making broccoli soup.  It was “Organics share delivery day” at work and my share included some fresh, organic broccoli.  I love broccoli soup, but usually it’s made with cream and lots of cheese.  I went online to find a soup recipe that nixed the cream.  I figured I could cut back on the cheese myself without reading instructions.   I also bought myself an immersion (aka stick) blender.  Love this gadget!  It works, it’s easy and it’s smaller which makes for easier storage.

The soup turned out reasonably yummy.  I have a couple of small, single-portion containers in the fridge and a larger container in the freezer for the future.  Looks like I’m set for the next few days!

Lessons learned:  Falling off the wagon might hurt, but it doesn’t have to keep you down.  Don’t use a screw up as an excuse to give up.  If you fall off of the wagon and don’t climb back in, you can’t start moving forward again.

Something to remember.

You readers of a certain age, did you think I meant Trigger food as in oats and hay?  🙂

Neigh, my friends.  I mean foods that trigger me to eat compulsively or binge.   In the past, which I could refer to as B.B., or Before Bariatric surgery, and the years when I was in the grip of the worst of my compulsive eating, almost any food could trigger me to eat and eat and eat.  On the short list of non-triggers foods were mushrooms, any form of seafood, raw tomatoes unless in salsa, and liver.    Foods that I don’t like do not spur me to eat more of them.  Imagine that!

Foods I like?  Forget it.   One bite is both too many and never enough.   Pizza was always a big binge food.  I could tell myself six ways upside down that I would limit myself to two slices, but if I was alone in the house with a pie, I would pick and pick and pick at it alll night long.  Four or five slices would make me miserably uncomfortable but that wouldn’t stop me as I washed down still more with gulps of soda.  A few hours later, after the quantities shifted around and digested a bit, I could follow it all with a pint of ice cream.

Other binge foods — really good bread.  Pie.  Yorkshire pudding.  A certain kind of chocolate cake.  Fried chicken, even if it’s really the cripsy, greasy skin that is most tasty.

Disgusting.  It’s not like these foods made me feel good.  After the first portion, I don’t think I ever actually tasted the rest of any of them.  Here’s why I think they’re called trigger foods.  Once you pull the trigger on a gun, you can’t stop the bullet – at least not until it slams into something and its power is completely absorbed.  Unfortunately, in the years B.B., my stomach wasn’t big enough to stop the binge once it fired off.

Things are different now.  I would physically get sick before I could binge that much on pizza.  I can eat one small slice and that’s all.  Anything more would overload my capacity.   I managed to limit myself to one small piece when I was out at a function this weekend. However, I still don’t trust myself around pizza, at least not enough to risk ordering even a small pie into the house if I’m alone.   I am very much afraid that compulsion would overtake me and I would pick-pick-pick at the cheese and toppings until I’d overeaten to the point of illness.

I can practically hear some of you thinking, “Oh come on, Mary.  You’re doing so great.  You’d never succumb to a trigger food!”

Thanks for the votes of confidence, but I could, I would, I did.   For the life of me, I don’t know how I rationalized a food decision yesterday, but here’s what happened.  I was on my way home from the morning function at work when I passed a bakery advertising Fresh Bread Baked Daily.  Earlier in the morning, I’d put two containers of soup out to defrost.  In the few seconds that it took to drive by that sign, my lightning-fast thoughts told me, “Asmallsliceofbreadwithhothealthysoupwon’thurt.Thisisn’tgoingtobeaproblem.Freshbakedbreadwouldbesoawesome.Goforit.”

Yeah, before I got a block beyond the storefront, I’d whipped my car around and pulled into the parking lot.  Where were the lightning-fast thoughts I needed to talk me out of this poor choice?  Smothered under a pillow, held in place by the compulsion.   I ate the first small bit when I got back into the car.  I tore off another corner when I got home.  I sure didn’t eat big chunks at a time, but over time, the series of small bits added up to one uncomfortably overfull stomach pouch.

The discomfort in my stomach didn’t come close to the dis-ease in my head.  I thought about it a lot and finally agreed with what I already knew.  A trigger food is a trigger food is a trigger food and no 30% stomach pouch in the world will combat it on its own.  I’ve said along that the surgery is only a tool.  The real work is in the head and I still have a lot of work to do.

So, this was an excellent lesson.  I need to continue to be vigilant and set myself up for success, not failure.  Just like I know better than to order a pizza when I’m alone, I now know that fresh baked bread is not something I can safely keep in the house.  I’m okay when I’m with other people.  I can and have eaten a single small piece of good bread when out socially, but that’s it.  I’m adopting that same approach to my other known trigger foods.  Keeping them out of the house puts up a good layer of defense between me and the compulsive drive.

I’m going to spend time this week remembering other trigger foods.  Reacquainting myself with these items will shore up my defenses against the impulse to buy and eat them when I’m tempted.

My stomach’s felt rough and achy since the drawn out binge-y episode yesterday. I’m going to baby it for a few days. Protein shake in the morning, yogurt at lunch, soup for dinner — without bread.

By the way, when I woke up this morning, I looked at what remained and made a strong move to protect myself.  I picked it up, marched outside and threw it in the trash at the curb.  Can’t trigger a binge without ammunition.  In this case, none was better than half a loaf.

More to the point, I’m cooking.  I’ve already told you about Saturday’s roasted butternut squash soup and yesterday’s baked applesauce.  You’d think those would have been enough to satisfy the need to not let great produce go to waste.  Not quite.  Apparently, this also triggered a need to keep cooking.  I had five bananas going brown and then a friend at Tai Chi gave me some more from his tree.  I already have some bananas cut and frozen for smoothies in my freezer and was truly worried that the  ones on the counter would be wasted.

Undaunted, I turned to the web and did a search for healthy banana bread recipes.  I found several which included less than a cup of sugar and not much fat because each included a third of a cup of plain, low fat yogurt.   The recipe that really caught my eye also included a third of a cup of creamy peanut butter and two tablespoons of chopped peanuts.

I had to debate myself, weighing the protein benefits of peanut butter and peanuts with the extra fat.  Nuts are good fats, I argued.  Plus, the leftover yogurt I had wasn’t low fat, it was no fat.  The only bad fat in the recipe came via two measly tablespoons of melted butter.

Guess who won the debate?  The peanut butter-loving me.

You might ask, what the hell am I doing baking banana bread of any kind when I’m following a low carb diet?  Why am I creating this kind of temptation when I’m doing so well?

Damned if I know.   Perhaps I’m testing my own resolve and proving to myself that I can, indeed, eat even a freshly-made yummy baked treat like a “normal” person.

Maybe I just want a piece of banana bread.

I didn’t have a full size loaf pan, so I split the batter into two smaller, one-use aluminum loaf pans.  If the finished product tastes good, I will immediately take one of the loaves into work.  That halves the problem right off the bat.

I am also making a commitment to myself, stating it publicly here, that I will not compulsively overeat the remaining banana bread.  I will eat a healthy, food plan-appropriate dinner.  Then, a couple of hours later I will treat myself to one small slice of banana bread.  I will eat it slowly, enjoying each bite.  When I finish the slice, that’s it.  No going back for seconds an hour later just because room opens up in my stomach and the bread is in the house.

If, at any time, I feel myself getting out of control and compulsively reaching for little extra bites here and there, I will pour dishwashing liquid over the remaining bread, take the pan out of my house, and throw it into the trash can.

That’s my promise and I’m sticking to it!

In keeping with my desire to recognize good things, happenings, developments, I’ve been holding a feeling close.  Today was one fine day.

I slept in a little, with the cooperation of the furkids Nat and Pyxi.  When I rolled out of bed and went outside, I saw that we’d been gifted with bright sunshine with a slight breeze.   I decided not to waste this present.  After breakfast I got my things together and went out on the boat.

It was the first time I’d been out on it in several weeks due to uncooperative weather, other commitments, vacation, etc.  First off I was just relieved that everything was in good working order.  You never know with a boat.  I cruised through the harbor, exchanging “captain waves” with folks on other boats and soaking up the beauty.  Once out past the last channel marker, I powered up and in short order had my boat skimming across the turquoise swells while I soaked up the sun and salt air.

While I love meeting up with friends at the sand bar or going out fishing, I can also content myself with excursions like this, when all I do is cruise around for awhile surrounded by sky and sea.  Joy fills me up and expands through my smile.  90 minutes of fun and pure pleasure.

After I arrived home and rinsed off the boat, I headed indoors to cook up a recipe I’d printed out yesterday.  I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I get a share each week in an organic produce buying club.  Even though I buy the smallest share, appropriately called a Mini, it’s still often too much for me to consume everything.  That’s why I made the butternut squash soup, half of which is in small containers in the freezer.  Last week’s share included several small, sweet Gaia apples and plouts.  I didn’t want these to go to waste, so I decided to make applesauce.  What I don’t eat, I can also freeze for another time.  Once more I turned to the Barefoot Contessa aka Ina Garten for an applesauce recipe that included orange and lemon juice, cinnamon, all spice and a little bit of brown sugar.  Even though she suggests other varieties of apples, I went with what I had and added in the plouts.

When everything was peeled, cored, quartered, spiced, tossed and in the oven to bake, I changed into a bathing suit and grabbed my iPod.  For the next 40 minutes I danced my little ol’ heart out in the pool.  I worked in a few Zumba moves, and did several reps of crunches and leg lifts too.  I take so much joy and appreciation in being able to move, that the exercise doesn’t feel the least bit tedious.

I got out of the pool and stepped into a house delicious scented with apples and cinnamon.  Checked the time and realized I had time to shower.  After that, the applesauce was done and it was time to slide in a couple of meaty turkey thighs so that I’d have protein not only for dinner tonight, but for several meals over the next few days.

One can never underestimate the pleasure of a nice nap, so while the poultry baked, I indulged for half an hour.  Refreshed, I settled in to do some work for class and start organizing my thoughts for the first paper.  It isn’t due until next Sunday, but I have a busy week ahead and would rather get the first draft done tomorrow.  I can then think about it some more and tweak as necessary.

After a delicious dinner, I checked out the television guide and discovered that an old favorite movie was airing.  I’ve lost count of the number of times that I’ve seen E.T., but I still love it as much as I did when it was first released back in the early 80s.  That last scene in the forest when they’re saying goodbye always gets to me.  I weep every time.  This movie features great storytelling, beautifully acted and it’s a classic as far as I’m concerned.

With the movie over and my tears blotted, I played around a bit with Nat and Pyxi, checked in on email and some other Internet business  and then settled in to write this blog post.   Now I’m ready for bed.  It’s been a full day, for sure, but a supremely fine one on all accounts.  Like sunshine warmed my skin earlier, contentment and happiness warm my spirit.

I hope you all had good days too!