Too Fat for Fendi

Too Fat for Fendi

My French heritage tells me that I should not be having this discussion in public. But my redneck upbringing says hell with it. 

I am packing on the pounds. I think at this point I might be considered slightly overweight. It really breaks my heart because the Joseph Altuzarra for Target collection is coming out on September 14, and though most of the clothes will be available in my size, they won't look the way I want them to.  I am too big on top for many of Diane von Furstenberg's famous wrap dresses. Along with what I feel is rather uncontrollable weight gain, I'm having some other issues that I think I need to sort out medically first. Towards the end of the month I go to the doctor for the first time in three years. I'm going to ask for some blood tests to make sure that it's nothing physical. If I'm clear, I know the problems are all in my head, which is where the hard work is. 

One of my favorite quotes is from my youngest stepson who at age 13 said to me "We would get along much better if you would just let me do whatever I want". It's a good thing he's cute, otherwise he would be dead by now.  I don't think I have to explain to you why that was so funny (and I did laugh, which made the tense situation even worse regrettably) and also why it's so true about everything. If I'm unhappy with exercising and not eating the things that I want to eat, would I be happier at 300 pounds because I did exactly what I want to do?  I would certainly be enjoying the food, but that happiness and satisfaction is transient. I really don't care what society thinks of me. I'm too old for that bullcrap. But I do care about what my husband thinks of me. When my husband tells me that I'm beautiful, I really take it very seriously. I believe him, and I wanna be that way for him. I also believe him when he tells me that a certain bathing suit doesn't look as good as it used to. It's hurtful, but I also appreciate his opinion and don't resent him. Honesty always makes me happy. I think it's important for me to be a positive role model to my stepsons and to my grandchildren. I have a granddaughter now, and like my niece before her, I would like to instill in her a healthy body image and attitude about food, exercise and weight. I want to make sure that I'm able to roll around on the floor with my grand kids. The day I was doing somersaults with my grandson on the living room floor was a memorable one. Hanging upside down the swingset with him? Yes, that was a good day too. I looked my best 20 pounds ago, can I get there again? I'm almost 36 now; in our society, that's really not old.  I would have to work hard. Is it worth the hard work? That's the rub. 

Screw society stereotypes of what a woman should look like. I am not an airbrushed model. I can understand the pressures of Hollywood movie stars. They make their living by looking their best at all times. Even when walking the dog. Work can dry up very quickly in that industry, and the expectation is to have an unsustainable lifestyle that forces them to work. A vicious cycle that I'm glad to be unaffiliated with.  I would look like Elle Macpherson if I could afford a personal nutritionist and trainer. Pay me $1 million to take my picture, and I'll reconsider a more aggressive diet. But I'm a landlady. Do I need to be back down to 110 pounds?  With so much disease in my family, it would be good for me to ensure that my weight stays down. If I don't,  I'm screwed in more ways than in my wardrobe. It always comes down to what my barriers are. Frankly I think my barriers are just laziness. Too many temptations in this western society. I know these are my issues. Could I eat dry lettuce and chicken breast all day every day for the rest of my life? Yes. Would I be happy that way? No. I want to drink good wine by the gallon.  I want to eat homemade pasta. Alton Brown's chocolate ice cream recipe made with raw milk is to die for.  

I'm supposed to end this with some kind of conclusion or some point to take action on that would be of interest to you. I really don't have one.  I'm unsure as to what my next move should be. Do I accept my fate and enjoy life? Do I make a significant lifestyle change just to be able to wear clothes that I really can't afford anyway?  I'm going to die of something in the end. I already gave up the cigarettes. I can't give up the iced coffee too. That will kill me faster than the high blood pressure I am almost certain to inherit. What's my real yin and yang? I guess I'm not alone, otherwise everyone would be skinny.

A pretentious and juvenile way to put it I guess would be a personal journey down the fashion runway of life. I know I don't have the energy to wear the 5 inch heels, so I guess I'll just find something that I'm comfortable and confident wearing. 

Is it worth spending our lives getting dressed up if at the end of the show we don't get to keep the clothes? 

Hope Springs Irritable: Is Winter Over Yet?!

As published in the March 2014 Hibu Publications

The deep roots never doubt spring will come- Marty Rubin

Spring is on its way, and I couldn’t be happier!  I am so tired of the cold.  I know that I am not alone when I say that this was the most uncomfortable winter that I can remember.  The January cold snap gave us problems with the heating system and left me cuddling with a space heater for two days.  I’m ready for some sunshine.  I miss my garden horribly.  In the fall, I left the leaves in the backyard to ensure that the bees have a place that they can winter.  The koi in the pond have settled to the bottom for an icy nap.  I miss them and look forward to seeing them soon.  My nearly fatless dog has been dressed in layers for the past several weeks.  He misses his walks, but is very happy to be in his bed with his heating pad.  I have to keep a close eye on him as he will sneak little “accidents” in the house just to avoid the frigid temperatures.  My husband installed an awesome bathouse for me.  We had one or two curious passersby in the fall that will likely return in May and set up in there with pups, and I am so excited to have these new additions to the Team Geraci Headquarters.  For Christmas, my parents bought me a butterfly house made out of a gourd that needs to go in the shady area near the perennial bed.  My windows creak with the cold wind.  Pretty soon, they'll be opened to allow a morning breeze through the house that takes the stagnant dust off the bookcases and breathe new life into its living occupants. My dwarf citrus trees which usually occupy the warm and sunny deck in the warm months are lined up in the living room.  They look tired, cold and frankly miserable in their formation with the furniture, breathing in the dry filtered air and drinking nothing but ice cubes and mist from a plastic spray bottle.  They are yearning for the life giving sunshine drinking clean rain water.  The cool breezes that pass through the yard give them a workout strengthening their branches while the pot absorbs heat keeping the roots cozy warm.  In a few years they will give me fruit, but they need to grow up first.  I am never so excited about a huge to-do list as I am with the impending springtime multitude of tasks.  Soon I will be sewing vegetable seeds under lights in the garage.  I love the anticipation and excitement I feel when I see that first tiny little green leaf push its way up through the dirt.  Its so full of energy and strength.  The seed has been sitting in its cramped little envelope for weeks and months waiting for warm light.  I can really relate to how the seeds feel.  Perhaps that is why I enjoy gardening so much.  I am always sad to see everything die in the fall; I get attached to the plants that I raised from nothingness and into green bountiful glory.  In the fall, I wither right along with them.  Life goes on though, and I have people that depend on me to not hibernate with my garden critter family.  So here I am, sitting back in my depressing little dark and dirty spot, patient for just a little bit longer.  Soon, it will be my time to bloom, take off my socks and stretch out my ten little roots in the backyard.  I can't wait to get back out there.  Everything around me, the weather, the seeds, even the dog require my patience.  

It's on its way.  

I couldn't be happier.  

New Year's Disillusion- My Plan for 2014

Here we go, kids.  Its New Years Resolution time, or as the pessimist in me calls it, The Year's First Premeditated Implosion.  Now is the time to completely put away any of the self awareness that I may have accumulated over the last year and keep making the same old promises to myself that I know deep down I will never keep.  I love starting out the year knowing that in about a month, I will be labeling myself as a failure.  But yet, I continue to do it to myself, and I think a lot of other folks are in the same boat. Because I was curious, I researched the top resolutions for 2013 as gathered from users of social media websites.  I wasn't surprised.  Number one was change in diet and exercise, followed by save money, get organized, and drink less.  As I read this and I contemplated my experiences of the past year and what I have learned about myself, I realize something- all of these things are very general while the reasons why I have my bad habits that need "resolving" are specific.  For example, I am a sugar addict and I should cut back.  I crave sugar when I'm stressed.  If I try to cut out the sugar, I start to bite my nails.  So which one do I start with- the stress management, the sugar craving or the nail biting? Big resolution, lots of little ways it can fail, and for me, it always does.  Spending less money has the same pitfalls.  Am I shopping because I need new pants, or because I'm bored and avoiding the sink full of dishes waiting at home? Does 'stop being bored' need to be added to the resolution list?  You see how quickly it can snowball out of control?

I'm 35 now.  

I am never going to be in a size 2 again because I like being able to eat whatever I want. I need to just accept this and enjoy my dessert.  

So perhaps that's a good resolution:  Focus more time on who I am as a person.  Learn something new about myself by experimenting with who I am and what I can do.  I think that if I keep things very specific, like on a to-do list, I can check things off and my success is documented.  If I fail, what was the barrier that kept me from success? 

I think, this year, I would like to lessen my carbon footprint.  Pick a week and see how little garbage I can create.  Every time I reach for something processed, that wrapper will be staring at me.  Then come the questions- how does the piece of fruit as opposed to the candy bar make me feel? Instead of hitting the take-out place with all of its packaging for lunch break, maybe I should take along last night's leftover lasagna already packed in Tupperware.  What's the hang up there? What am I missing out on that the trip to the sandwich shop provides? It can go down deep if you follow the hole. 

My waistline wins, my compost bucket wins, my family wins because I'm cooking more instead of ordering a pizza.  I remember 'Be a better spouse and parent' from that Top10 list!

I'd also like to follow the three day detox diet designed by a Hollywood celebrity dermatologist who guarantees me beautiful skin.  Its only three days, not 365.  What if I look better and feel better afterwards? Can I take that feeling of small success and grow it into something bigger and even more meaningful?
Only if I really want to.   

So I think that's where I am for 2014.  Short, obtainable challenges that I don't have to worry about failing because they can teach me something about myself, whether I succeed or not.  Gain something from it, then try again.  

Another good resolution: Don't wait til January to get to know yourself.  Every day's a good day for that.  

Avoiding the Dead Beets

Don't let anyone rent space in your head, unless they're a good tenant.   

Recently, as you may have read, I have been doing a lot of soul searching to find what it is that really floats my boat and motivates me.  New exercise classes, new hobbies, challenging myself to be more outgoing in my social circles, and tasting new foods and growing some in my new garden that I've never grown before.  In this process,  I have been assessing my personality by what I choose to eat.  I eat my share of beautiful things, but I was raised on, love, and fear I will never be able to live without my highly processed lovelies- cheese puffs, movie theater popcorn, bologna, hot dogs,  cheese fries. All so salty and delicious that my feet are swelling just thinking about them.  Quick, easy, and satisfying, prepared fast and efficiently and allow me to get back to work, but, and forgive me if I come too close to turning this into a diet blog, they really are nutritionally void, and I should stop eating them.

They are bad for me.
They are making me fat.
I think my lousy diet is giving me wrinkles.
I don't feel good about myself when I eat them.  
Who knows how many chemicals, pesticides and antibiotics are going into the garbage in my pantry (well actually I've just finished In Defense of Food and The Omnivore's Dilemma, so I now know more than I want).

I need to stop eating crap, as the writers of Skinny Bitch would so eloquently phrase it.  Why is it some people can part with these things, yet others cannot? I have lovely relatives that are vegan.  I have been to their home for dinner.  It consisted of tortilla chips, Triscuits, fresh vegetables, fruit, olives, a table full of beautiful things.  After how many years now, I remember that meal clearly.  I remember how much I enjoyed it and how satisfied I felt at the end.  Even for just a half hour, I was healthy.

I've not shared this yet, but professionally I am a landlady. I own and manage 13 properties. I didn't start off as a particularly good one, but I have learned along the way by trial and error.  I've been burnt more times than I would like to admit to.  I've let people get away without paying me what I am owed, and I've evicted my share of deadbeats. Over time, I have learned that to be taken advantage of and to be screwed out of money doesn't feel good, so I have had to alter my thinking, systems and processes and my ways of looking at the world and perspective tenants.  I do credit checks, ask some nosy questions, and educate myself before I let people into this place that I value. There are certain things that I hear innocently come out of a wanna-be tenant's mouth that sends up my "Run Away and Burn Their Application" flag.  I work hard for these houses, and these houses give back to my family.  I don't let just anyone into my place.  It is important for me that they take care of my house, give it what it needs to maintain it, even improve it.  If the tenant is not meeting their obligation and giving me what I need, they need to go.  No questions, simple policy.

Why can't food be the same way? I have to take vitamins to make up for where these crappy, albeit delicious, foods are not serving me well.  That's like taking money out the kids' college savings to cover the mortgage while the tenant lives there for free for 6 months. I would never even think of doing that with a house! But guess what.  I'm doing it with myself.  The above quote really says volumes to me.  I can easily  put my foot down with those who enter my house, but why do I feel powerless when it comes to what I put into my mouth and my brain?  Just as poor food leaves my body empty, negative people, thoughts and emotions also take their toll. Are hobbies, past times and things that make us truly happy and relaxed the cure for that deficiency?  But there's not room for everything, and eventually the decision has to be made to cut them out of your diet.  What a terrifying proposition!

So how does one do all this?  I'm not a therapist or a dietician. I guess I didn't get this way overnight, so perhaps the healthiest way is to take my steps little by little, learning along the way, just like I did with my work.  I should be as selective with food and friends as I am with tenants- limit myself to things that are of high quality because those are the things that will take care of me.  I would like to find the courage to let go of my tendency to try to control, draw my line in the sand and see what walks up to it every once in a while. I would bet that if I relaxed I would notice that, despite the fact that my anxieties try to convince my logic otherwise, not many things would approach my line. Its an extremely scary notion for me, but what a fantasy! What could a little piece of assuredness like that do in other aspects of my life?

Could it make me divorce Oscar Mayer? Not likely. I'm a landlady, not the Dalai Lama.

Little itty bitty baby steps.  Learn along the way.  Long term health and happiness is the goal- that applies to work, friends, family and food.

Good talk.

   

You Want Fries with that Prozac?

An Indian chief is talking to his tribe about two dogs fighting in his mind; one is a white dog that is kind and courageous, and a black dog that is vengeful and angry. Both dogs are fighting to the death. A young brave, unable to wait till the end of the story, asks, "Which one will win?", and the chief replies, "The one I feed".

I've not been in a very good mood lately. Frankly, I've been kind of a miserable thing to live with. Very negative, irritable, sarcastic. Smiling has become a bit of challenge as of late. My weight is creeping up. My house is messier than it should be. I would rather go shopping than do my work. To boot, my cooking sucks. When we had family over to eat about three weeks ago, I made a beautiful porcini mushroom risotto. Guess what? My heart was hardly in it, and it tasted that way. My rice was too raw. My beautiful idea and fantasy of how it should taste was ruined by my crappy attitude. Dried porcinis are pricey, too. Thank God I had some scotch there to make me feel better temporarily. I made a really nice vegetable stir fry for my grandson's birthday party last weekend. It was crisp, fresh tasting and very good when it was cooked, but I put it in the crockpot to keep it warm as the party began. It quickly turned soggy and not at all appetizing, and you know something? I really didn't care much. For 12 years, I have made dinner to satisfy the needs of the hard working hubby and the growing teenagers, but, as I have described in an earlier rumination, your head and heart have to be in it as much as your mixing spoon does. I'm not there lately. My cooking is something that, prior to my funk, I took pride in. It is something that I pretty much learned out of necessity. My parents are by no stretch cooks, so I bought cookbooks and watched a lot of Food Network to get the education that I needed to feed something nutritious to my new husband and his children while most of the people I went to high school with were still in college. Not much time to experiment and have fun. I've got a hungry crew to feed and a budget to do it with, as I'm sure most readers can relate to. When did I slip into Martyr Mode? I wasn't like this a few years ago. I was happy, energetic and outgoing, not afraid to do something that others would disapprove of. I have flamingoes in my front yard, for Christ's sake. Where's that chick? I miss her. I am still pretty brave compared to most, but when you throw 'doesn't give a damn' in there, it becomes a problem for broads like me that are quick with their sharp tongue. When my sister asks me how I am and she laughs hysterically at my answer, I feel like me again. Where have I lost my ability to see the humor in my day to day? When did stuff start getting to me? When did I start paying so much attention to the quirks of others to make me read into them and let them bother me? I'm not perfect, so why should I get impatient with others when they are not? Why do I let the actions of others affect me so when they shouldn't in the slightest bit?

I am feeding the wrong dog, and it is making a total mess of things.

It makes sense to me that I need to return the focus to myself, obviously the most important person in my life. When I was an EMT, they taught us to never put ourselves in danger because if we got hurt, we wouldn't be able to help others (my favorite was the lesson for a Hazardous Materials Incident Management where it was explained that we needed only two pieces of equipment- a lawn chair and a pair of binoculars).

So what are the things that I enjoy doing that I need to get back to after a long grumpy winter?

I wanna eat.
I wanna cook.
I wanna be active and walk my cute little dog and take our tortoise to play in the backyard.
I wanna grow my veggies. I haven't done it for two years because we spent all of last summer packing up the house we were moving out of.

Today, I started 144 seeds in the starter pots. Peppers, lettuces, collard greens, daikon radish, lots of arugula, peas, parsley and basil. And that's just in one raised bed of my new house. I have a lot more to do. I'm looking forward to growing my own food again. Two years ago I sent my husband, who I practically worship, to work with a nice salad from our garden almost everyday. My labor of love for him. I feel an enormous sense of pride when I create a meal made out of something from my own backyard. I wanna tell the world that I worked for this meal from beginning to end, dammit, and it tastes delicious, its more nutritious than anything that has pesticides or wax coating from the grocery store and it was nurtured with time, sunshine and fresh water. That's part of my personality- I take care of things, and I try hard to do it right.

I am the only one who can do anything about my crappy outlook. I started exercising again about 2 weeks ago and I'm already seeing improvement. Today, I've chosen to start my garden to give me something to replenish the self worth that the cold winter has taken from me. It's time to plot and plan my apologies to my stepchildren for being crabby and condescending. Tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day and I've picked a recipe for a chocolate cake made with Guinness. I've got a stash of audiobooks to go through. Leisurely of course. Making myself a good person again is not a chore, but it should be something that is enjoyed because I'm doing it for the right reasons. Sounds strangely like making sauce. Hmmm....

The Zen of Sauce

I made pasta sauce.
With crab legs.
It's good.
Start with The Holy Trinity.  Olive oil, garlic, onion.  Sweat that down with salt.
Don't burn it.
Add your seasonings to the mix.  Don't burn it.
Add your tomatoes.  There are lots of kinds, pick your favorite.  Don't burn them.
Add the sugar. Don't burn it.
Let it cook.
And cook.
Don't burn it.
And cook.
And cook.
Don't burn it.
Add a little water and tomato paste when needed.
Don't burn it.
When its close to done, add some crab legs.  Let them cook in the sauce.
Don't burn it.
When it's done, you'll know.  Use your eyes, nose and tongue.   You'll need your ears too, listen for how fast its simmering.
Don't burn it.

 I am by no means an expert at making sauce.  But who can be, since everyone's sauce is different?  Different proportions of different ingredients.  The vegetables are all different depending on where they are growing in the world.  There's nothing special about jarred sauce because every jar tastes the same at every house.  My Irish/French/German sauce is different from my Korean mother in law's, whose is different from her Sicilian mother in law's from whom she learned.  Less enjoyable? No.  Its my individual statement.  There's also the experience of the sauce.  What else was going on while I was making this sauce, at home, in the world, in my head, in the heads of those who are going to be enjoying it in a few hours?  In order to not burn it,  you need to watch it.  Smell it, look at it, touch it with the spoon, taste it.  Almost constantly. I'm a busy lady, so I can't make sauce everyday.  It needs to be done at the right time and in the right mindframe.  Making sauce is something of a meditation.  You must be aware of what is going on inside the pot and what is going into it.  You also need to be in touch with those senses.  You can make a fresh sauce quickly, but it won't have the depth and character of a beautiful sauce that has been cooking on the stove for hours.  You have to devote the time.  It is not something that can be done as a "what the hell' last minute thing.  Its a devotional not to be reserved for Sunday.
So if someone tells you "your sauce is so good", there's more going on there.
Maybe its "I hate tomatoes, but.."
Or perhaps ".... It reminds me of my grandmother's house".
Or "...Ralph and I went to Rome for our anniversary, and we had sauce just like this!"
"This brings back memories, some sad, some happy".
Food has the power to inspire such emotion.
A jar of Ragu doesn't bring back a memory because it wasn't cooked with any.  The smell permeates the house and gets the attention of everyone.  Its a mixture of emotions- excitement, then some reminiscing, fantasizing, longing, then comes the rumbling stomach which brings the task at hand into focus. And the pot hasn't even made it off the stove yet.  No mention of the delicious pasta yet (which is a whole thing on its own. Crab sauce is served with linguini- discussion over).  Let's head for the table.  Let the newly activated senses take over.  I start with the pasta first.  Sauce looks like the right color and consistency.  I know this because I've made it so many times before.  Sauce is delicious and smoothe, well cooked.  Activate ears- here come the compliments. How about some of the crab legs? This is a meal that should be eaten with a plastic tablecloth and dark clothes.  If you have a papercut, its gonna hurt, but its so worth it.  You will be up to your elbows in sauce and crabby bits.  Its impossible to eat this civilly, so don't bother.  Everyone else will be covered in it too, enjoying what you have focused on for the past several hours.  Notice I say focused, not labored.  Pour your glass of wine. You're gonna get sauce all over the glass.  Go ahead, lick it off the stem.   
Enjoy it.
Savor it.
Clean up  your dish with some fresh bread.
All of your ingredients should be married into one perfectly balanced union.  Your cooking experience, your feelings, thoughts and emotions can be tasted. If you don't accept sauce making as a time to ruminate and find your kitchen zen, you can taste it. Enjoy the heaviness off of your shoulders and onto your belly, just for a little while.

Now try to keep that feeling when you're scrubbing your nails and the tablecloth later. Like I said, its worth it.

Bon apetit, and what the hell, namaste, too.