136# - 109# - 150# - What?

My weight is what...?

I am 5'9.5" tall.  Yes, I always count that half inch - at least I will until the inevitable shrinking starts. Anywho, I am tall for a gal - so they say.

I am used to being around people who are shorter than I am - and when I run into a female who is taller, I feel inadequate as a man.  Yes, I know I am not a man - just say'n...

I have always been on the lighter side - since birth anyway. The "cute in a 'why-don't-you-put-some-weight-on-those-bones-kind' of way..." as the lyrics go in the group's "Black Tape for a Blue Girl's" version of the "Knock Three Times" song.  My weight just stayed on the low end for the most part until about 10 years ago (when I was about 36 years old or so).  At that time, I embarked on a yo-yo weight odyssey.  An odyssey influenced by my mood, life stability, stress levels, activity, and 'diet' (and by diet I mean how I eat, not an actual "D-I-E-T").

At this time 2 years ago I was around 136 pounds. At this time one year ago, I was headed for my low of 109 pounds. Now, if you know anything about height/weight ratios, you will know from what I write here - that I was WAY TOO SMALL for my height. By February of this year, I hit my ALL TIME HIGH of 150 pounds.  OK, again, if you factor in my height, that is not a 'huge' deal visually or health wise. However, as much as I suck at math, I think that is a 37% gain.  My current weight is higher than it was when I was 9 months pregnant, with my sweet sweet daughter, 25 years ago.  That is an eye-opening concept in my book.  Impressive really.... 

So, a busy life, anxiety, stress, and depression - partially brought on by drama and major life changing events -rendered me unable to eat.  A lot of folks eat eat eat when they are stressed.  I just simply - stop.  I can drop 30 pounds in under 2 weeks.  Is this healthy?  HELL NO...

Oh no, can I say "HELL" on television?

I have had a love hate relationship with food for years, as I had, for many years of my life, not cared for most food enough to do anything but eat as necessity, not for the joy of it.

As time has gone on, and I started taking 'happy pills', I managed to start eating.

This opened the flood gates. Eat, Eat, Eat...

My "I'm full" button is broken.  I am eating anything that can't outrun me.  This, in and of itself, would not be so bad except I have added drinking at least 1 McDonald's Chocolate Chip Frappe' a day, adding a whopping 700+ calories to my daily intake. Then consider the Starbucks' Venti Iced Caramel Macchiato with whole milk and whip at over 500 calories as a nearly daily treat......  Oh, and the fact I can eat 8 Reese Cups in one sitting....  

Oh yes, why am I gaining weight?  Duh..................................

I will eat until I stop. It will all even out.  

I think that is enough on this subject.  I have Mayfield's Snow Cream Frozen Dessert in the freezer and heavy whipping cream to pour over the top....

This is soooooo NOT a "How to be Fit" post...

Blech 

I am NOT weighing myself anylonger

I Am What I Am, & That's All That I Am

"I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.
~Kurt Cobain

So I was having a conversation with a friend the other day, and she said something that struck me sideways. Not in an ugly way, just caused me to think.

She said she tried to blog but would rather post pictures of her completed projects than talk about herself.

I thought to myself, "uh-oh, do people give a rat's arse what I write about?  Especially if it is just about me?"

Then I realized, what do I know better - than myself?  

Not much...

I have lived a life. My own life. No one else has walked in my shoes and I have not walked in anyone else's.  

Some folks might get joy, entertainment, laughter, or comfort when reading something I put to "paper".  Shoot, they might only get to say "really?", "she is a nut",  "oh no she didn't......", or "what an idiot...".

It could be that nothing other than my working through uncertainties comes from my writing.  Maybe, it will do nothing more than than serve as my memory when my brain fails me...

With all that being said, writing down events, thoughts, experiences, and what have you - may just save me in some way.  And maybe someone out in the world will stumble upon my rantings and ramblings and go along for that sometimes not so fun ride.

I guess that is a fancy way of saying, while some folks create wonderful projects and artwork to express themselves and to be enjoyed, I write for me and hope someone out there gets enjoyment, help, therapy, or etc. as well...

Thanks ATE, you made me think and I appreciate it!

What Does Catholic Mass Have to do With Fishing?

Nothing, but that is what I am writing about…

So I went to catholic Mass last year.  There was no lightening in the immediate area and I did NOT, I repeat did NOT burst into flames.

I grew up Baptist.  I converted to Catholicism several years ago. Not sure how many now.  I won’t go into the how or why of it.

The last 2 times I went to Mass were not in the states:

Dome of Koln

Once in 2002, at some point after my Daddy passed away.  It was conducted in what I call a "side chappel" in the Hohe Domkirche St. Peter and Maria (English: High Cathedral of Sts. Peter and Mary) in Koln Germany.  It is also known as Kolner Dom or the Cologne Cathedral.  Anyhow, I was amazed at how much I understood even though the whole thing was in the Latin and German languages.  That is a good day.  I needed that dayin order to help cope with the recent loss of my father. It is amazing how that whole trip helped.

I still miss him so much however.

 

Michelangelo’s Pietà

  The second time was in 2004 when my daughter and I traveled to Italy on "Roman Holiday".  We attended the Sunday Mass in Basilica Papale di San Pietro in Vaticano (Latin: Basilica Sancti Petri), officially known as Saint Peter's Basilica.  

All I can say is, while that mass was in Latin and Italian, it was the most moving Mass I have ever attended.  The chapel was packed.  We had to arrive a few hours early to make sure we could get in and be seated.  One day I will find the words to describe that experience.

 

Yes, except for the 2 above visits, I have not been to any other Masses since my Dad passed. I basically stopped when I lost him.  I went from going nearly every Sunday, even when traveling, to not attending. 

Period.

I made a last minute decision to attend Mass at a local catholic Church some months ago because I had been struggling with many things of late and I needed the continuity and tradition that the catholic Church Mass provides.  We will revisit the concept of "Continuity and Tradition" in a moment. I used to find that attending Mass would set and then re-set my emotional and mental clock for the week.  I decided I needed some group therapy with God.  I typically believe that you do not have to attend a church to commune with God, but I do feel that attending an organized event such as Mass helps keep my mind in the moment.

Enter "Continuity and Tradition"

I never liked anything but a good OLD fashion traditional Mass.  No new age, hippy, drum banging, guitar playing Masses for me.  I want some Latin in there (the more the better), choir when possible and the traditional words…

So, when I found a card in the pew outlining new words and songs integrated into the Mass, I was taken aback.  Confused.  Befuzzled.  It seems there is a new catholic Mass Missal as of November 26, 2011.  The explanation that I found when looking online?  Forty some-odd years ago, when the Latin Mass was translated into English, they apparently did a rush job and everyone knew it would be revised. 

Huh?  OK, news to me.

Apparently this new translation is closer to the Latin in both meaning and sentence structure.

They also say that Mass celebrates the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross and that is not everyday stuff.  It is a profound mystery that is beyond our comprehension and that mystery is deserving of a more significant language than what we use in our everyday lives.  A deeper meaning.

I am not going to go into all the details of the changes, but instead will give you the “Click Here” link to read the changes for yourself if you are so inclined.

OK, why am I whining?  I needed the continuity and tradition and knew I would find it in the Church. 

Instead? 

More change. 

Really? 

Seriously?

  

That will teach me to take a break from organized religion…

Lost and Found

I have an announcement to make!  I am back!!!

I LOST my "blogging-way".  

Fell off the "blog-wagon".

Have been a "blogger-slacker".

I FOUND myself again.  Not just my "blogging-self", but a large chunk of "myself" that I was separated from for awhile.  A long while.

Finally....

So I am back and blogging.  Ok, I am trying actually.  I went and read some of my "Cookie Cooks" food blogs recently - and was amazed.  Amazed by the writing itself?  Hardly....  I was amazed at how I did not recognize the writing as anything I had done.  It was like I was reading someone else's work all together.  I don't know.  All I can figure is I lost a portion of "me" back before I even started blogging - THEN fell off the wagon. 

That Cedar Chest

The dark yet comforting void that is a cedar chest...  Where objects go to be kept safe, secure and in the dark...

Several years ago my cousin and I had to move her mum into an assisted care facility. Her mother was not of sound mind and could not assist in any fashion when it came to sorting out her near 80 years' worth of possessions. We were on our own.  My cousin mentally and emotional locked up (as often happens to people when they simply cannot wrap their minds around the enormity of a task or event). So this packing up of her mother's life was left largely to me.

Now, mind you, "The Mother" did not have an actual cedar chest. But in a way, her apartment of roughly 26 years was one huge cedar chest. The Mother was old-school. If you pissed her off, you were "marked off her list". No more party invites for you! She was very crafty, artsy and an awesome cook/hostess. She turned simple lunches into a special event. She was much of my inspiration to travel, cook and entertain, yet I was not close to her. She seemed to drink a bit much and could get right cranky.  Over the years I started understanding why...

We went cabinet by cabinet and drawer by drawer. Pulling out, sorting, keeping or donating objects. Books, dishes, silver, china, jewelry, you name it...  There were oddities from assorted travels through the years. Books about various art, travel locations and historical events. Even clothing from back in the day! Mink and fox fur stoles!

At one point we reached the basement storage room. There is where it got interesting. No one had bothered to go through the stored items down there in years. Maybe not since they moved into the apartment after "The Father" passed when we were 7 years old.  What we found were photo albums from back pre-us-children era.

The photos showed "The Mother and Father" at the beach down in Alabama. They would spend a month or so in the summer at a beach house down there. I have no idea if they owned it at the time or simply rented it.  They would take kids from the family, as at the time they had none of their own, and introduce them to a different life. My family was by in large not well to do. So for kids to get to go on what amounted to a long vacation was a huge thing. I wish I had access to these photos to post here because they were so interesting as these were circumstances, situations and dress that I had never seen my adult elder cousins in. I remember Rena normally wearing dresses and skirts throughout my life and that was the same in the photos, but of course she was much younger and seemed so happy. "Doc", for the period of time I knew him, as he died when I was 7, was always in a bow-tie, dress slacks and an arrow collar shirt. In these photos he was lounging in chairs with a cigar, a low-ball glass and an undershirt.  Think 'wife beater' shirt. There were children playing in the sand in their cute little 'covers everything' swim suites.  The year had to be the 1950's.

We also found in one album a letter confirming a room reservation in an Atlanta hotel (I have long since forgotten the hotel name but seems it is still there near the stadium). Obviously there were no internet sites back then. And, apparently at this point the phone was still not the communication of choice in the south? The room confirmation was for a 2-twin-bed room costing something like $10 or so. They were going to watch baseball.

The twin bed deal was no shock. They slept in separate beds the whole time I knew them (5 out of the 7 first years of my life).

While we poured over the albums, it became clear why "The Mother" drank and would get cranky. By that time she had lived without the love of her life for maybe 27 years.  She missed him. She never got over losing him. She never dated. She did everything with her mother (until she passed) and her daughter.

We ended up stashing the mink and fox stoles we unearthed in my cousin's steamer trunk. The jewelry went into her jewelry box, furniture into her house in the basement and the silver (that came from OUR great grandparents) placed on cabinets.

Several months after The Mother passed, we were doing that age old ritual of getting ready to go out tramping as we called it. This actually means we were going to a nightclub to dance. We almost always had a new outfit each to wear.  Her mother used to help us get ready when we were younger. Critique our outfits, doll us up, take photos of us, keep us on task and on time. So, this night, as we ran around her house half (mostly) naked trying to get our outfits together, we pulled the furs out of the steamer trunk and we draped them around us and laughed hysterically.  We both thought how funny it would be when we were old and in a nursing home together. In our rooms would be these cedar chests and steamer trunks full of oddities from our parent's and grandparent's.  We would probably visit, and dawn, the stashes daily and race our wheelchairs down the institutional hallways - half naked (hopefully not mostly naked) wearing these furs, and costume jewelry.  All the while orderlies would probably chase after us.