Back on Track

The three day meal plan is back in place again and appropriate food stuffs bought ready to cook.  I think next week I need to do a five day plan but I can now see why I lost the plot last week.

My normal (before diet) routine is to consume what my 'other half' cooks for dinner, perhaps 3 or 4 times a week.  He loves cooking, he loves being master of his own food choices, he likes food shopping and experimenting with various world-wide dishes. Of course, a girl like me (naturally lazy around food) loves a man who will cook for her.  Dieting has made this become a hurdle to negotiate.  I want to be in control of what and when I eat, so conflict in the kitchen could occur.  So I slipped into my old ways last week which, now identified, will have to be addressed. I will have to know what his meals are going to be (usually healthy foods and very tasty) and monitor my portion control as his is mostly too much for me.  I often leave some, it goes in the fridge for the next day, then I forget and have something else.  Note to self : freeze all leftovers for another time.

So my 60 day challenge does not just concern me, it has an affect on those around me.  When I go out with friends I have noticed my food and drink choices influences theirs.  "What are you having?" is a much asked question.  Why it sways our choice I'm not sure. It is a tough old business this dieting, not something to be undertaken lightly.

I have heard a lot of people berate themselves over their 'lack of willpower', 'lack of self-discipline' etc.  It sends them into a depression and vicious circle which makes things worse by causing them to 'comfort' eat when really they didn't want to.  Thankfully, I have not fell prey to this trick of the mind and am back on track again.

Failure

I don't allow this word into my vocabulary.  What is failure anyway except for the fact of never trying?

I could tell you that I failed to stick to the diet plan at the weekend but because I am going to continue ie. I have no plans to quit the challenge, I don't see that having allowed a little of my old ways to creep in that means I've failed.

I failed my 11+ exam and to make matters worse I was not the only one in my class not to pass.  I have spent most of the rest of my life proving to myself and others that I can pass exams.  I have a folder full of certificates to prove it.  I stopped collecting these self-affirming trophy's a few years back when I learnt the lesson it's not who you are on a CV that matters but how you do what you do that counts.

I didn't really want to go to grammar school as an 11 year old.  I thought it daft to have a uniform that included indoor and outdoor shoes; a boater hat for the summer months and a felt bowler in the colder months.  As a youngster I was not thinking of my education or the future but I lived in the moment and favoured a school where boys went too.

I've no regrets having done OK without a 'first class' education.  I've had good jobs, held responsible posts and earned enough to now draw a works pension.  I guess that's turning what others put on me as 'failure' into 'success'.  It wasn't the root others around me took but 'I did it my way' as old Frank Sinatra sings.

A diet plan is an aid not a gospel.  If I go off track for a day or two what does it matter?  Maybe I won't achieve my goal but I will still have trod the path of the challenge.  I will have tried and done what was right for me at the time.  After all, TODAY is all we have for sure.

I have failed to swim the channel, do a parachute jump or cook an Indian meal (I feel sure I could do the latter two) but I have no desire whatsoever to do these or many many other things that the rich tapestry of life offers us to experience.  However if I have a desire to do something I would try, stick at it and push through barriers to conquer it but I would also know my limitations and have no qualms in admitting defeat if my own mental or physical health was at risk.  There is no shame in that.  It is a strength not a weakness knowing our limits.

I have had to leave a job for my sanity; change places of worship to protect my soul; broken relationships where good life was being sucked out of me and pushed through in other relationships where I have felt able.  I am happy with my life, love who is in it and make the most of each day where and whenever possible. I AM HAPPY with my 'lot'. ☺

Superfree food

 

Blackberries on this diet are 'Superfree foods'.  They are actually superdooper free - pick your own in hedgerows during September in a lane near you.

 

The last time I did this was 7 years ago - seven years ago!  I was in France with my friend Rose and we left our men to go country walking whilst we scrambled the hedgerows.  We had containers but no hand wipes and, as usual with this pursuit, one ends up rather juicy/sticky/messy. 

 

Having walked to the local store in the countryside nearby I noticed the blackberries sparkling in the sunlight amongst the greenery of the hedges so returned to find containers, hand wipes, carrier bag etc.

 

During our leisurely hour we met a chap who says blackberry picking is a fading activity as the computer generation find it 'boring'.  There is a downside to the activity - you are likely to get stung by the nettles that grow up and in the brambly hedgerows; then there is the prickly thorns of the brambles that will prick your hands or fingers and make you bleed if you are not careful.  There are cobwebs to avoid and all sorts of spiders.  But the butterflies were lovely and the fruitful reward can not be compared to an hour in front of a TV or computer screen.

 



Going Public

Trying to lose weight is an individual desire and no-one way fits all.  Most 'dieters,' at one time or another, have joined a group for support and accountability.  It spurs them on to hear of others' struggles and what has helped them overcome such times and reach their goal.  In some groups they stand on the scales in front of their fellow dieters - rejoicing or commiserating their loss or gain of weight.

Going public brings with it that much needed support but also an accountability.  Now your friends and family have expectations of you.  They want to know your progress and that can add pressure to succeed or shame and guilt when all is not going well.  So a lot of people try to diet/change their eating habits alone, silently enduring the journey of ups and downs.

I haven't joined a group but most of my friends and a few family members know of my 60 day challenge.  Friends in particular are interested in my progress and a few are reading this blog.  I can report that Week 1 - I was enthusiastic; Week 2 - I got practical - planning, shopping, cooking.  Now that I am going into the third week, and tired, I am not so enthusiastic and wondering how I will manage this week as my busy life fulfils me far more than food! 

Evenings

People who are grieving a spouse tell me "the evenings are the worst."  At the end of the day when the jobs are done, people are seen, and you are alone again with the door shut and curtains drawn, the time to relax brings a new void.  They wonder what can I do now - watch tv, read a book, knit, do a jigsaw - but there is still an emptiness, a loss.

It seems disrespectful to liken their loss to the similar thought patterns regarding food in the evening, but I am anything but restful in the evenings lately. 'Loss' comes in many guises - divorce, moving house, unemployment, loss of being single when married, loss of fertility, retirement etc.  Smaller losses like a ring or sentimental item, your purse, wallet, driving licence or passport, has you wandering about the house or retracing steps until you either find the lost item or come to terms with it not being in your life anymore.  Replacements just aren't the same because they remind you of the loss.

In the evenings, after having had 3 meals a day and my quota of 'syns' there is a loss, a void going on for me which brings an extra challenge.  This is when I want to snack - a packet of crisps or peanuts with a weekend glass of wine, half a dozen biscuits to dunk in my hot chocolate, a piece of cake or toast for supper.

Just saying the word 'supper' takes me straight back to childhood when 'supper' was the fourth and last food intake of the day - just a glass of milk and two biscuits.  The definition of 'supper' is: 'a light evening meal'  So the suggestion is 4 meals a day - breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper.  Perhaps that's the loss I'm feeling, perhaps I should re-engage with my childhood eating pattern as, from my evening meal at 6 pm until 10/11pm when I go to bed, it is a long time not to eat.  So what to have is the question.  Crackers maybe, or Rice Cakes, one piece of toast, a bowl of cereal, some rice pudding.  Or maybe I will detach 'pudding' from dinnertime and have that at 9pm.  Sounds like a plan.  Let's see if it fills that gap of 'something missing' and the longing for my old routine of familiarity back again.

 

Write on!

There are two parts to my 60 day challenge and so far I have only written about the first part.  The challenge is to a) diet and b) write every day.  I don't always write straight onto the computer so some days my blogs won't appear until a few days later.  But my notebook is getting well used, so dear readers keep following...

Writing is easy for me, it's natural, part of who I am and what I do.  It is a form of therapy as I scribble the words that are in my head onto paper.  I can write if I'm happy or sad, angry or hurt, confused or needing to make a decision, feeling poetical, spiritual or caring.  Words come, and through my pen, enable release or comfort, inspiration or laughter.

Writing wasn't always with a pen - I'm old enough to remember chalk on a small wooden edged blackboards (teacher used chalk on a wall board and used a wooden block with a felt surface to wipe it off again).  As a child at school we used pencils and when the lead broke or went blunt we would go to the teacher's desk and use a clamped on pencil sharpener to bring our writing implement back to a useful state.

 

In top junior class, having mastered double writing, Quink ink filled our fountain pens.  No, I'm not old enough to remember inkwells and scratchy nib pens!  It was a messy business pressing the metal bar on the rubber tube that sucked up a barrel of ink to last a day or two of writing in our exercise books.  We very often made a splodge on the page that had to be soaked up on our green sheet of blotting paper.  Teacher would then invariably put a red pen mark around the splodge with a 'see me' or other scary comment written in the margin when our work was handed in.  If the splodge wasn't on the page or desk it gave our fingers a blue stain.

 

 Thankfully cartridge pens were soon invented but he humble Biro is a winner by far.  You can find one in every household, every handbag or briefcase, every desk or kitchen drawer, even down the side of the sofa.  We use them to write lists and reminders, do crosswords or suduko, draw diagrams and add up figures.  Some of us still write letters with them.  Now though, we are writing less and less as computers, ipads and mobile phones take over - writing becomes a less used medium.  But for me, there is nothing like holding a pen and have it float across a blank page until it is full.  Write on! 

Review

"How's it going?" people want to know. 
"Ok," is the short reply, a bit like we say 'fine' when asked how we are, but the challenge I have set myself wasn't meant to be easy.

The first week was hard, no so much as changing eating habits, but the 'head' stuff that went on begging me to give up at the first hurdle was the biggest challenge.  However, I pushed on through the negative chatterings.  This week has gone easier, even a little bit of enjoyment and pride crept in as I planned meals three days at a time and tried a few new recipes/dishes.  I was pleased with my efforts, but at the moment it is still just that, an effort.  And those chatterings tell me I wont keep it up!  So I have to prove them wrong - hard work.

Today is exercise day.  Every Friday I go to the leisure centre - my gym and swim day - only for the last few weeks it became 'squashed'/a rushed swim only.  So, to get back on track today I will don my pedalpusher gym wear and trainers and head for the treadmill, bike and rowing machine.  They have made very little difference to my size for as long as I have been going and I know I should be doing sit ups or 'the plank' but getting down on the floor and up again is so undignified at my ripe age. 

Last month a woman 10 years my senior was 'on the mat' doing an exercise she said was good for the tum, so I joined her and copied her exercise.  I had back pain for 10 days afterwards!  So I am keeping away from the floor.  Perhaps I'll ask the personal trainer on duty what they recommend for an older person to undertake to rid the midrift bulge.  "But," my head says, "how will they know, they're all of 12 years old with a figure that hardly needs working at."  And so I probably wont ask!

At least at the gym I will be able to do what all dieters do and that is get on the scales.  This too is a head ache - if I've lost weight how will that be when I've been the same weight for as long as I can remember?  If I haven't lost weight will I be disappointed?  And God forbid if I have put weight on, I'll probably be throwing in the towel!  Thankfully the home scales are in need of a new battery so I have avoided this task so far.  Until today.......

The Bake Off

I defy anyone to watch The Great British Bake off television programme and NOT eat anything!  All those delicious looking cakes, breads, pies etc has you salivating and reaching for whatever is in the larder.

This week on the main 5 channels there are 47 programmes about food.  Magazine advertisements splash food in your face liberally; newspapers print 'health' columns about the benefits or drawbacks of eating and drinking common food staples - burnt toast is the latest big No No.  And if you visit your local library or bookstore the shelves of cookbooks and diet advice are overwhelming. 

Food is big money.  Chefs of distinction have their own brands of cookware, famous vegetarians launch their personal range of food packaging.  Food is in your face!

Having been to the supermarket to gather in a store of 'proper/good' food stuffs the bill came to double what it would normally be.  It seems healthy eating means valuing yourself monetarily.  But there were still things I wouldn't buy - cherries for example.  They seem so very expensive. 
"Hey, Mr Government, bring down the prices of healthy foods and put up the prices of ready meals, pizzas and crisps if you want us to make the right choices."

Talking of crisps - how many do you get in a packet these days?!  No wonder they aren't satisfying anyone and leading us to buy jumbo bags!  OK so now I am being a grumpy old woman. Let's get back to the Bake Off.

How does Mary Berry keep her figure?  Are some people genetically built that way regardless of what they eat?  Does she have a portion control policeman on her shoulder or does she have food allergies that prevent her from putting on weight?  Does she exercise every day or have servant to cook her meals?

I don't have a secret solution to my size but when stress or distress come into my life my stomach tightens and I lose my appetite until the anxiety passes.  In times of grief I eat 'baby' food - soup, rice pudding, toast, a glass of milk or cup of hot chocolate.  I eat very little when under pressure, angry, unwell or upset.  Whereas the opposite occurs for some of my friends.  It is those times I 'comfort' eat but I don't desire lots of chocolate, cake, biscuits, crisps.  The reason is deep seated.  These things were literally out of my reach as a child.  Self discipline not to overindulged was ingrained by circumstances out of my control and now they are within my control hard to shake off, but not impossible, if I want to change this lifetime habit/thought pattern.

Childhood and food memories/associations play a big part in our adult life.  Were you rewarded with food? Did you interpret an ice cream as a treat as a sign of love craved for?  Food is not the problem, it is our relationship with it that is.  It can be an addiction like a magnet gathering pins.  The pins can be useful and harmful.  We know that but still perpetuate the problem by repeating, repeating and repeating the same habits.  I hope to break the cycle of mine - the cycle that tells me 'I can't do this' or 'I can't be bothered.  50 days to go.  Now what do I do with this cake?

Hunger

My tummy is rumbling.  My body's way of telling me I'm hungry.  But I've just had breakfast so may be it is just rejoicing in having something to play with in there!

The first week of dieting saw me rescuing my tum from hunger pangs - I would consult my list of free foods and find something to satisfy my tum only nothing lasted very long and I seemed to be eating every waking hour.  This week I'm taming the tiger within.  I'm not going to starve, we don't know the real meaning of this word in our country.

Hunger surely must be par for the course of dieting as we lessen our fuel intake.  It is natural to want more.  But like some mother's train their babies by not responding to their every cry, or training a dog to walk to heel, it takes time for brains to get the message!  So I'll push through with busy-ness, drinks and sticking to 3 meals a day.

Writing this blog is challenging when computer and ipad play up.  I feel they are trying to scupper me but the ever faithful pen and notebook is at hand.

Talking to myself!

Or a self-counselling session (1)

"So Susan, you're lazy when it comes to food?"
"Can you call me Sue please.  Yes I am."
"Tell me about that."
"Well I can bake cakes and create biscuits, I enjoy that.  But I do that for other people.  It's meals for myself or as a couple that I struggle with."
"Why's that?"
"I don't know really.  My mom was never a very thrilling cook.  It always seemed like such a chore - what to give the family for dinner when one child didn't like peas and another didn't like fish."
"So because your mother thought it a chore, you do too?"
"I suppose it was time she couldn't give to me then.  From the moment she put on her apron, stood at the sink peeling potatoes, standing over the cooker, washing up.  It all seemed to take so long.  I must have had to sit quietly at the kitchen table with a colouring book or something.  I think I felt shut out."
"So you begrudge the time meals take."
"Exactly.  I could be doing something else."
"Like what?"
"Having fun.  Playing then, gardening, reading or seeing friends now."
"Do you enjoy food when others cook it for you?"
"Not really, not like I would like to.  I appreciate that they have cooked for me but I still feel it has robbed me of time talking to them or being out and about with them.  I enjoy going out for a meal because then no-one has to spend time cooking.  We can all chat and only have to spend a little while in choosing what to eat."
"Do you enjoy choosing?"
"No, not really.  I have a pork intollerance so I'm limited straight away and the price of things sway my decision.  I don't try new things, I stick to what I know I like."
"Why's that?"
"It would be a waste if I didn't like it and I'd still be hungry."
"Wasting food and being hungry troubles you?"
"Yes of course it does!"
"You sound cross."
"Mum was always cross if we left stuff.  It must have been hard on a low income to feed our family.  There were four of us, plus mom and dad.  We got reminded often of starving children in Africa but that only made me sadder."
"Guilty?"
"No I don't think so.  I had probably had enough or wanted to leave the table to play.  Guilt came later, when I was married and had to buy the food and later still when my husband cooks.  I feel as though to compliment him I need to empty my plate."
"Do you?"
"No, not anymore.  I can't eat as much as he does.  I just feel too uncomfortable.  Stuffed to capacity.  I have to stop then.  And more and more I am leaving stuff.  I feel guilty especially when he eats my leftovers.  He is learning to freeze it for another time but I can't do his food journey too, he has to do what feels right for him."
"Do you have different food likes and needs?"
"Yes very much so.  I like plain old fashioned foods, he likes spicy exotic foods. I like to graze, he can manage on one big meal a day.  It's difficult to find things we both like and then I have to guard my portion control by having a smaller plate than his.  I'm sure he thinks I'm faddy and fussy but I can't help it."
"So what do you hope to gain from your 60 day challenge?"
"To be able to enjoy food more.  To plan meals better and enjoy cooking them."
"What's stopping you at this point?"
"I've gone back to 'I can't do this'.  I know I can if I try."
"Tell me some of your other achievements over the years"...............................

Rabbit Food

Libby

I am discovering 'dieting' is a full time job!  At least it takes up an awful lot of thinking and action time.  Meal time planning increases, shopping for provisions increases, preparing food increases and on this diet I seem to be eating far more often as my hunger increases.  Then there is reading time - what do the diet plan papers say, what's in the recipe etc.  I guess all of this is normal until one gets used to how the healthier eating plan works rather than grabbing what you can, when you can.  Perhaps I will relax into it more as I go along.

Shopping for food has never been my thrill of the week, in fact the same can be said for the daily round of eating.  Unfortunately I see both activities as a necessity to survive, an interruption to my day, a bind basically.  I'm food lazy.  I can't be bothered - life's too short to worry about food.  But it is the very essence of what keeps us going - fuel for the fire.  It is so very important and yet I don't give it the credit it deserves.

I stood in the supermarket yesterday, having asked an assistant where the Quorn products were.  Why do they call it 'chicken' Quorn and shape it like a breast of chicken - it's Quorn, soya bean, Tofu or something that's not meat.  Are they trying to trick our brains or do we do that ourselves?  Do sausages have to be long cylindrical shaped or else they are not sausages regardless of what's in them?  I suppose they do.

Meat substitutes are very unappealing but a healthier alternative on occasion.  I was a vegetarian for four years once so I know that it tastes just as good and contains very little fat.  Yet I came away without buying any.  Why?  Because I'm not ready to make the switch.  The excuses flood my brain. Note to self - get some Quorn or vegetarian recipes again.

So for this week it has been mainly rabbit food, as Grandma used to call salad.  "Leaves are for rabbits," I can hear her say.  She was a cuddly sized Grandma.  I now realise why.  But I really enjoy a salad - easy to prepare, lots of colour, variety of taste and a full plate.  However it does leave me wanting something else afterwards. 

I have done well with breakfasts and lunches, even when in a hurry or out with a friend.  I feel I should be putting weight on with the amount I am eating but am hoping the choices I make are foods that fight each other and give me nourishment but no fat.

I have failed to exercise this week.  How do I have time to fit that in as well?  The good news is I am enjoying the writing side of my 60 day challenge!

sh** happens

Welcome to the over 60's club my friends cheerfully say.  'Officially old' my head says!  What no-one tells you is that 'sh** happens' when you're sixty as well as any other time of life!
 

The NHS want me to do a poo test.  Well I am certainly pooping for England at the moment.  Getting rid of the crappy tension the last week has brought or because of my increased intake of fruit and vegetables I am not sure.
 

Life is crap sometimes.  It's very unfair. Its random, its unjustified, it stinks. But at such times I remember that life is a two sided coin, heads and tails.  Sunshine and rain, salt and pepper, wet and dry.  Food, wealth, or our upbringing makes no difference to this fact.  You can hold on to the rubbish and make yourself ill, or let it go and go with the flow of life's rollercoaster.
 

Toilet habits do change with dieting.  What goes in must come out - but does it?  Where do the toxins of hurts, disappointments, criticisms, put downs, abuse go? In one ear and out the other? Not in my experience.  They whirr around in our heads and hearts.  Some, interestingly cause some of us to have food allergies.  Our tummies reject certain foods,  our skins comes out in a rash or pains various parts of our bodies.  There are many concerns about additives to food products these days too.
 

I have a few intolerances but mainly pork.  I gave up on this meat many years ago as eating it gave me instant diarrhoea.  I can live easily without pork.  It can be difficult at friends houses ie. Ham sandwiches, sausage rolls, cooked breakfast.  I have turkey rashers for bacon at home but still love the smell of real bacon.  Chocolate has a similar affect on my system, although delayed until the following day if I have indulged in more than 3 or 4 squares/pieces of chocolate.  Useful to moderate my intake now as I have been a chocoholic most of my life.
 

I have to watch my eating of mushrooms (fungi), Marmite (another lifetime love) and bread because of the yeast in my tum.  It seems to stick and bloat and grind!  Plenty of natural yoghurt or Acidophilous tablets clear out my tubes and I can 'start again' in eliminating them from my diet.  What a nuisance!
 

Food choice is difficult.  My every morning 'grab a breakfast' has been for many a year a bowl of cereal.  Now I have to stop and think about what I am 'allowed', what I have in and how much time I have to do it etc.  A very foreign process for me as I am not a spring chicken in the mornings.

Oh just realised the word for horses poo is 'Man u are.....' ! People put it on their rhubarb but I prefer custard!  To think in my childhood it was scooped up off the road to fertilise crops and roses! Man you are crazy!
 

OK the paperwork is done for today.

 

Sacrilege

A very, very rare occurrence happened in my kitchen yesterday.  I had been thinking about it, but doing it was a different matter.  The fridge was overloaded with left over party foods.  I stood and looked at it.  Then whoosh out came custard slices, whipped cream and scones.  The bin was close and the lid open.  Then in I tipped a whole load of crisps, peanuts and hola hoops.  Lastly some moulding fruit.  It looked like someone had vomitted.  Yet moments before I was wondering how I could preserve these lovelies.  What a waste.  There is more to go by the weekend.  Tragic.

You see I was brought up not to over-indulge.  I remember my dear Aunty Betty would count the slices of bread and butter out when we went for tea.  There was never any left over and no question of more. It would not occur to us to even think we wanted more.  And, like so many of my age, it was polite, good manners, right etc to eat everything on your plate.  One would be reminded of the starving children of Africa or threatened with 'you'll get it for your breakfast if you don't eat it now'.  They were never huge portions but perhaps contained sprouts or something else that I fadded about.  I do remember as a teenager scraping my dinner into the bin because it had been reheated for when I got home from work.  Mom would put it out on a plate, gravy and all, then on a pan of boiling water (no microwaves then).  The gravy would all dry up round the edges and, being a person who eats with her eyes, it looked very unappetising.

We never snacked between meals in those days and biscuits were limited to two or three at bedtime with a glass of milk.  Having some chocolate finger biscuits at another Aunt's house was a great treat.

Having ate well all day my husband came home as the tempter.  He didn't realise it of course but after a long day at work and then a drink with his friend he went to the fridge and rescued the chocolate cheesecake (he might have guessed that too was destined for the bin). My first thought was that I was peckish and perhaps could have a small slice. Thankfully he didn't ask if I wanted any so I didn't have to voice my thoughts or say 'no'.  Then he had toast.  The smell lingered through the kitchen to my comfy sofa.  It was no good I had to have something.  I boiled a cup of milk and cuddled my cocoa.  I looked at his tum and thought, 'what a waist'.

So into day three I go. Hi ho .....

9 chips!

I was trying NOT to write about food, or at best give details of what I've eaten because I don't believe anyone wants this information.  Pictures sometimes appear on Facebook of people's dinner plate or a full English breakfast and I don't understand why!  So if my ramblings bore you do let me know!

However, I have just weighed out for the first time ever, some oven chips.  Not wanting to go over my daily syn allowance had me reaching for the kitchen scales.  Nine chips.  Was it worth it, yes actually.  Didn't really need more with the heaps of veg I gave myself.

I'm full.  I've had plenty of food today.  I don't like the hunger pangs which I've realised I don't notice or experience when I'm anxious.  Unlike some of my friends, when bad news comes, stress, tension, sadness etc., I don't comfort eat.  My desire for food or alcohol goes out of the window.  My system survives on my reserves I suppose.  I eventually dehydrate and have to self medicate headaches or withdraw from life outside the home for safety and comfort.

Self-comforting for me is warm loose clothing, a hot bath, a mug of drinking chocolate, a bowl of soup, a dish of rice pudding, cuddling a hot water bottle, clean bed sheets smelling of soap powder and fresh air. After sleeping a clearer brain tells me to eat and drink and I am soon back to normal.

Day two complete. 

59 day challenge

Day one was, as predicted, hard. Not having prepared properly and still tired from partying at the weekend are my excuses, but I wonder if I really want to do this challenge I have set myself and why? Negative thoughts abound in my head - 'life's too short to diet', 'I can't do this' (which is common for me when I try anything new), 'aahhh I don't want to be thinking of food all day/watching what I'm eating'.

I did in fact do OK.  I was soooo hungry in the morning (my body was recovering from the assault of tension and laughing so much that my appetite came back with a vengeance) that I wanted to grab the first thing I could think of and gobble it down.  My usual habit is a quick bowl of cereal.  Having grabbed the cereal bowl aware of the empty pit feeling I had to then stop and think about the right choice.  The hightenened awareness of 'starving' made me hurry up gathering yoghurt, strawberries and oats.  I didn't enjoy it and was still hungry.  That 'starving' feeling was a bit scary as thoughts of fainting/passing out/falling over whispered in my brain.

A rushed visit to the loo followed (sorry about the detail!) and I expelled all the tension/crap of the weekend's rollercoaster of emotions.  I had experienced both joy and sorrow, laughter and tears.  I had become anxious about the party, I had wanted to cancel it and just cry for my friends' bad news.  But I went ahead and was surrounded by more friends, angels with skin on.  It was fab.

I then became hungry again but had pleasant thoughts about getting myself a boiled egg.  Ooohh it was scrummy, really enjoyed it.  I had a day off work to be able to pander to my body's needs.  How do people diet, work, run a home, exercises, sleep well, play etc all at the same time?

A trip out to a coffee shop had me preparing what I would have, having looked at the dieting regulations/paperwork.  A glass of milk and a toasted teacake was what I wanted but my friend wanted to treat me to lunch so we both had scampi and chips! Having 'blown' it I then had a gluten free coconut macaroon with a chocolate base! How easy it was to be thrown off course!

I was with a dieting expert who confidently knew the differences between two dieting plans and I wondered if I had chosen the right one? Perhaps counting points would be easier.  My brain doing another trick to confuse me and make me fail. I had a big plate of salad for tea and loved it.  No snacking today necessary.  So onwards with what I have set myself to do......

60 day Challenge

To write each day and to diet!

Having set myself this challenge I have already started in preparation but I know I am going to fall at the first hurdle because my food store is over loaded with left over party foods!  I really didn't plan that too well.  Secondly, I am off out to a coffee shop with a best friend today and her news to chat about is not good, so comfort will be required in more than just a hug.

I have already bereated myself for setting this challenge and telling others about it because now I have to do it, when my head is saying I don't need to diet.  No head, perhaps I don't, but I want to.  I want to loose one stone or rather I want to see if I can lessen the midriff bulge.  I want to experience all the thoughts and feelings that accompany dieting.  I have heard so much about them and know what a difficult journey it is if you are an overeater out of long time habit.

So my challenge today is to read again the Extra Easy options of a certain dieting company, look in my cupboards and plan more productively for each day/week ahead.  I am not going to allow the thought that I have failed at the first hurdle - I am going to be kind to myself and be realistic.  Circumstances and lack of good preparations have prevented a good start but that is not failure it is merely what it is.

60 day challenge

It was empty, the Diet Coke can with 'Sis' on the side.  It was passed across the table in a jovial moment.  Nothing was said about a challenge but the mere presence of a slimmer sister and her achievement triggered my brain to set myself this challenge.

I have never 'dieted' in my life.  To be fair, my friends would all say I have never needed to.  But in my 59th year my 'Biafran' style pot belly bothers me.  Clothes go someway to disguise the pregnancy look but at the swimming baths, or in other relaxed moments I catch sight of the protrusion in a mirror and have thought 1,000 times or more, "I must do something about it."  Then follow the very clever stumbling block thoughts: "I haven't time", "Everyone your age has a tum", "you're not overweight", "it's not too bad" etc etc etc.  Instead of following an organised eating plan I will cut things out of my foody habits for a while, have a smaller portion and stop nibbling between meals but it never quite cuts it.  And I doubt an organised diet will too.  I have been the same weight for such a long time - it never goes up or down.

For the past 4 weeks I have cut out bread from my diet (oh there's that 'D' word) and to my surprise I have lost 3kg.  Can it be true, I must check it out on the scales at the gym?  Yes, I do go there regularly, once a week for a short workout followed by a leisurely swim.  I kid myself that this is exercise.  I don't even get a sweat on!  I tell myself I am doing something, which is better than nothing, but it's really time I took it a bit more seriously.  I enjoy the leisure centre and hopefully with forthcoming retirement I can up the stakes and go twice a week at least!

Yes I'm soon to be 60.  Hence the 60 day challenge - EAT properly and WRITE daily are to be my top two priorities.  So watch this space for how I get on, I hope it will be fun as well as a trial.  I also hope it will be a new chapter in my life, one where I do what I've wanted to do for so long - get a book published.  And who knows I might get a flatter tum!  Start date : 2.9.14 (well you don't start on a Monday so I'm told.  I will use the 1st to get a stock of 'right foods').

A Piece of Cake....

A PIECE OF CAKE.....

is an expression referring to something that was easy.  It was not easy to bake or have my Victoria Sandwich judged and disqualified.

I had always vowed that I would not join a Mother's Union or Women's Institute group, branding it for 'old' ladies.  However, a dear friend persuaded me and I attended a few WI meetings where I found the talks to be very interesting and not all about Jam or Jerusalem.  They put on a mean spread for supper too.  So all good so far!  The ladies who attend are mostly of a certain age and set into some old fashioned ways but welcoming and obviously proud of all their achievements winning competitions and trophies both locally and regionally for all types of crafts and skills.

So, although not being a competent baker, when the gauntlet was thrown down to bake a Victoria Sandwich, I told myself it was time to be more involved.  "It's the taking part that counts," I told myself.   As the competition was to win a new trophy in honour of a recently deceased member who I had known for sometime, I 'did it for her' so to speak.

I followed the recipe, torn from a woman's magazine, to the 'T' and took all morning to produce what I thought was a fantastic result.  Each layer of the sponge turned out about 2" in depth, well cooked with no 'soggy bottom'.  I smeared one sponge with a good lashing of strawberry jam and the other with vanilla flavoured butter cream.  Getting them together was tricky but successful so I finished off with a good sprinkling of icing sugar. 

Thinking the judge would be phased with a dozen or more cakes that all looked the same I set mine apart by placing some strawberries around the edge of the cake stand and tied a bit of red ribbon around my cake slice.  Entry complete.

Before I had time to step away from the table my hopes were dashed.  I received the comment that it would be disqualified as it had butter cream in.  It was also rejected for having icing sugar on top not caster sugar!

When the winner was announced I clapped and smiled.  I was not a happy bunny, 4th place at least would have been good but 'disqualified' made me want to frown, push out my lower lip and sulk.  There had been no specification sheet, NO ONE SAID THERE WAS ONE PROPER WAY!

I can laugh at this experience now the last slice is awaiting to be eaten. I was extremely pleased with how it looked.  It may be a very long time before I enter anything again, but it sure did taste HEAVENLY.

 RIP - Jo



 

Cups, Mugs and Glasses

Are you a china cup person or do you prefer a mug of tea?  China tea sets seem to be slipping away into the distant past when they were used regularly for afternoon tea.  Perhaps your mother treasured one which was housed in a cabinet or 'tall boy' with glass doors.  The 'China Cabinet' would only be opened on special occasions or when certain visitors arrived - Great Auntie Nancy, Nan or Mrs N. from No. 5?  Working class people used pottery cups and saucers - the shape and feel to the lips of which were totally different to the 'best' cups.  Then came the mugs and teabags to replace teapots, loose tea and tea strainers.

 

Do you type-cast the mugs in your home?  Do you have thick set builder's mugs, men's mugs, kiddies mugs, china mugs for mum and a set of mugs that cousin Jane gave you for Christmas many years ago, that do for all?  Do you use, for yourself, one type of mug for your early morning cuppa and another for your elevenses?  One for tea and another for coffee?  What about that soothing hot chocolate drink - is that in a chunky thick rimmed mug - one you can wrap your hands around on a cold evening; or the purple one that reminds you of a certain chocolate brand?  Did your Dad have a tin mug and plate he used for work - painted white with a blue or black rim?  Well used ones would have chipped paint, showing more black or even the silver of the metal underneath.  And why do they give old people in hospital or nursing homes plastic mugs of tea?  What does that do for the flavour and experience of the thirst quenching drink?

 

With the dawning of new ways of serving coffee in coffee shops, so too came new shapes of cups and glass containers - latte and frappe 'mugs'.  Does your town centre favour coffee shops over 'Tea Rooms?'  Remember 'Lyons'?  Tea Shops are more likely to be found in country villages and how we love to visit them and see the china cups again being served with cakes and scones on cake stands and doilies.  "How quaint," we say.

 





 

Do you remember Corona fizzy pop, delivered to your door and poured into a moderate sized glass?  Pop was certainly a welcome change from orange squash.  Children delighted to see the array of coloured bubbly drinks at party times.  School friends would gather around the table laden with rabbit shaped blamonge and greengage jelly, jam tarts and a block of Neapolitan ice-cream with wafers waiting to be served after the consumption of sandwiches and crisps.  If the grown-ups were out of the room, mixing the fizzy drinks was such fun.  Whatever happened to Dandelion and Burdock?  Cola and Lemonade seem to be stocked in abundance now on supermarket shelves but the green colour of lemon and lime or the red of cherryade is harder to find.

 

Are your soft drink vessels called 'Glasses' (as in 'asses') or 'Glasses' (as in 'arses' - excuse me!).  Do you prefer tall thin edged ones or stouter chunky ones.  Do you choose one sort for having a glass of water and another for your evening alcoholic tipple?  Do men prefer a beer glass with a handle or a half pint straight glass embellished with a logo?  Does the thickness of the glass have any bearing to the taste of their drink of larger, Guinness or mild brew?  Does anyone still use tankards?  What sort of glass holds the 'hard stuff' or is a tot of whiskey, rum or brandy another fading older person's tradition?

 

Whatever your drinking vessel, just take a minute to think about it; pop down memory lane in comparison and appreciate your cup, mug or glass of today.  Cheers!

BABY SHOWER

PINK FOR A GIRL.....

Favour Boxes - a little 'thank you' for those who attended.

 

Baby feet cookies; pink lemonade & rose spritzer; ready to pop/popcorn

 

I attended my first Baby Shower party recently.  My daughter and I gave it a real 'home made' feel with creations we found on Pinterest.  The Mum-to-be was surprised on a Saturday evening when she was feeling a little fed up (9 months is a long time to wait) and her friends 'showered' her with gifts for the baby.  Knowing the baby was to be a girl made buying gifts easier and all the guests 'oooooooh'd' and 'aaaarrrr'd' at each little dress or toy that was opened.  'Guess the date and time of birth'  was played along with one or two other party games.  A good time was had by all.

 

 

I shared my lovely experience with others afterwards and noted their response.  Some where interested and others thought that it was just another idea come over from America for shopkeepers to make money out of.  Other gripes were 'what if it turns out not to be a girl?' and 'what if something goes wrong?'  Both of course were valid questions as partying before the birth is an upcoming trend. 

 

Traditions of not having a pram in the house until after the birth, seem to be lost.  Now the nursery is decorated well in advance.  The 'layette' is no longer hand-knitted booties and bonnets but named baby vests and  tiny designer trainers.  Themes of favourite Disney or television cartoon characters start the unborn off to a world of collecting the latest 'must-haves' and the equipment is doubled or trebled for two cars, places of care and holiday times.  It's all far more interesting and exciting than 35 years ago when yellow ducks floated in the bath and squeeky toys ended up in the dog's bed!

 

Whatever your view of pre-birth celebrations, if you have a baby due in the family, or friendship circle, soon why not try  making some hand-made gifts.  It is often the knitted teddy that baby favours most rather than the expensive red-ribboned dust collector that will end up sitting in a corner unloved.

 

An 'initial' picture for the nursery wall