Goal Met...Bout Time!

It happened. Finally. For twelve weeks I have waited, watching anxiously, only to be disappointed time and again. Finally, it happened. I reached my first weight loss goal: 16 lbs gone!

My actual goal was 15 lbs, but a bonus pound isn’t something you just toss aside. No way Jose!

When the Singer phoned today, I answered and she asked to speak to me (obviously not realizing I had answered the phone).
I said, “This is me!”

She replied, “You sound so little.”

I smirked, “Its cause I’m wearing my little clothes”

I feel good in my little clothes, but I cannot wait until these are my “fat clothes”.

In other news:

We, the Boss Lady and I, have located the perfect venue for our big fund raising event in October. Stay tuned. Trust me when I say it’s going to be magical.

And have you ever tried the drink by Naked called Blue Monster? It tastes like sunshine. Honest. Miss C didn’t believe me until she tried it. Now she’s a believer too.

The fitness ball (FITNESS BALL, FITNESS BALL) is still kicking me in the lower quarters, but I was able to complete the entire upper body workout. The abs work is going to kill me though. Nuff said.

And finally, Saturday is blueberry picking day. I cannot wait. I’ve been craving them sooooo badly.

The hotel is officially closed for the season. The Dude, Biscuit Mama, and their brood bid us farewell and headed for distant mountains south. I’ve located the various items that were left in their wake; a hair brush, pillow, diapers, soda pop. The floors are clean, the counters scrubbed and only a few leftover burgers remain in the refrigerator. Yet, there is a nagging voice that lingers inside my head.

A comment was made that I can’t shake. It was said in jest, but it slapped me in the chops like a ball-peen hammer. I’m still reeling from the blow and I can’t shake off the niggling feeling that while the comment was made in good, clean fun, that there is an underlying truth to it. It’s twisting in my gut and causing me to reflect deeply.

This explains why I am baking peanut butter cookies, of which I’ve eaten two and won’t eat anymore. Honest. I bake a mean cookie. I really do. Cooking and baking, as well as writing, are my forms of therapy. My family loves it when I turn introspective because it usually means something good will happen in the near future.

I suppose I’ll have to chew on this comment for a while longer until I can dig its grave and kick it into the pit before tossing dirt over it and jumping up and down upon it to pack it FIRMLY down. It’s amazing, isn’t it, how one little sentence can slowly draw blood from the wound it carved in your back? Nasty, festering, wound.

I haven’t been to the track in two days and am feeling a strong pull from it. I want to run. I want to feel the stress of the past week slide off me while I run lap after lap. I want to feel my heart pounding and hear my Ipod blaring. To feel the cool breeze of morning gently cooling my brow as I run and while I still can’t run, I can walk. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll walk off this hurt and anger.

Anyhow, here are a few pics from the BBQ we hosted for the herd on Friday night.

Idiot Girl Bounces Again

I’ve shared about my rebellious hip and how it’s affecting my life (two Aleve every morning). Even though Patti told me to keep running, I can’t. For most of my life the fact that I didn’t run wasn’t an issue. In fact, if someone had told me last year that I wouldn’t ever run again, I would have shrugged and said, “So? What’s your point?”

But things have changed. I’ve changed. I want to run. When I walked today, walked my two little miles, I felt like running. My hip said, “Girl! Are you some kinda masochist? Cause this ain’t gonna happen!” All the while she was shakin’ her finger in my face and giving me that look. Yes, apparently my hip hails from somewhere in the projects which would explain… Well never mind. Let’s not go THERE.

Anyway, I’m not running. Want to, but shouldn’t. I don’t want to do any permanent damage. Oldness is sucky.

Instead, I went and bought some new, heavier weights and a fitness ball. (Now, remember, when you say FITNESS BALL you must say in your best MONSTER TRUCK voice.) Yes, that’s right, a fitness ball (FITNESS BALL! FITNESS BALL!). Otherwise known as a balance ball or an exercise ball. The last time I saw one of these it had a handle and my wee babies use to bounce around the house on it. That was before they learned that they could sling shot it down the hall and knock each other over…but that’s another story.



I was really excited about the fitness ball (insert echo here). As soon as The Dude and the Brood left for the coast today, I tore the box open and happily hugged my new best friend. The one who was going to whip, I mean bounce, my fanny into shape. I could just see us now; the hours of fun we’d have, the tight thighs, strong abs, and content smile that would eventually take the place of what I now call my body.

It lay there in the box. All I had to do was inflate the fitness ball (echo) and I’d be just moments away from a new body.

I tossed the instructions aside and pulled out the blue tubing, slipped the white inflater spout on the end, grabbed the ball and tried to insert it into the opening.



It didn’t fit

I tried again

Hmmm…I looked at all the parts. Hmmm…doesn’t fit….Hmmm….

“Well, Idiot Girl, you get what you pay for. If you’d just spent eight more dollars you’d have rock hard abs by now!” Mutter, mutter, mutter.

I took out the small compressor we use for the air mattress. It has three attachments, surely one would fit.

Nope

I went back to the original attachment and tried shoving it into the opening. Growling, I pinched the end of the attachment, hoping I could somehow jam it in.

No way was it going to fit

I tried using tweezers, a handy girl’s secret weapon – good for plucking and for squeezing pieces of cheap plastic into a completely different forms.

This went on for some time, maybe five – ten minutes

I’m mad. Really mad. Because now I have to try to find my receipt in the garbage can and then take this worthless piece of junk back to the store, and exchange it for a more expensive ball with a attachment that actually fits the darn thing.

GRRRRRR!

I attempted to refold the deflated ball and place it inside the box. Sure. I am the same woman who has never been able to put anything and I mean anything back into its original box, bag, or satchel. Massive eye roll.

At this point, it’s been nearly twenty minutes. I’m mad, I’m hungry, and I haven’t even worked out yet. I grabbed the instruction manual and was just getting ready to stuff it into the already bursting box when I noticed a diagram outlining the parts that were included in the fitness ball kit.

In black and white I realized just how stupid I am. That white part, the place where I’d been attempting to jam the inflater hose…yeah…it’s the plug.



Brilliant

Wordless Wednesday

My brother, the Golden Child and his son, the Young Prince



http://For more Wordless Wednesday click here

The Monday Skinny

The Dude and brood will be here in a few hours. Miss C abandoned me to work at camp, attend play practice, hang with her buddy, and go to Bible study. I dropped her off at 7:30 this morning and won’t see her until after 9:00 tonight. Who told her she could have a life?

Master W. spread his cuteness all around, impressing and amazing a vast collection of admirers. He’s a doll, cute as a button and stubborn as a mule. Soldier Girl did what soldiers girls do. That and she was first to respond to a nasty car accident on her way home. We also learned that she may be deployed to parts hot and sandy earlier than we had anticipated. Hmm...

I also learned that I am old and falling apart. It was bound to happen, I know, I know (sadly shaking head) but I wasn’t ready. I’m NOT ready!

It’s my hip. It hates me. It hates jogging. It hates runners stretches. It’s not very fond of Pilates. Anyone have a walker they can loan me? I only want it if it has one of these:



I’ve been putting off going to the doctor. I had a goal I wanted to meet first, but now, sigh, I have to go. Will you visit me when I have hip replacement surgery?

Stinky, Corn Pone, and Saved Princess

Life: It’s a real pickle.

Take today for instance. We are waiting on our stimulus check. They said it would be here today. Actually they said it would be here before the 11th. It’s really important that the check get here tomorrow. I have to buy an airline ticket and you know those nasty things go up every day you put off buying it. Grr!

I’ve got Soldier Girl and Master W arriving sometime this evening and The Dude and Kat arriving on Monday. The house isn’t as ready as I’d like it. I’ve been rushing around doing this and that, but it’s never really clean enough. You know how it is. But what’s really bad and I do mean BAD, is that something died in our chimney.

Do you smell that?

I cannot believe some stupid animal got into the chimney NOW and departed this earth. It left its stinky, decaying carcass in MY CHIMNEY. The smell isn’t overwhelming. It’s more like a gently wafting of fragrance at odd and intermittent intervals.

Isn’t that just swell?

And don’t even get me started on the yard. I’m beginning to feel like Elly Mae Clampett. Oh for Pete’s sake. Okay, it’s more like Granny Clampett, but did you really have to point that out? Geez, some people.

Currently taking up residence in our yard is one sink, one vanity, one water storage tank, a child’s kitchen (left over from the Tiny Tyrants for Master W), a stack of wood (half covered), and a ladder.

Just makes ya hungry fer sum fried chicken and corn pone don’t it?

Shoot me. Just shoot me now.

And a special note to a secret pal –

SavedPrincess, I love you and will always, always, always love you. No matter what you do, no matter where you go, I’ll stick with you through thick and thin. I have no stone to throw. I have no right to throw it even if I had a one. You know that path you need to take. Hold my hand. I’ll walk with you.

I’ll be moseying along now. Ya’ll come back now, ya hear?

Prospective Employees Be Warned

The economy, being what it is, has been forcing me to deal with a growing dilemma: to find a job or not. It’s not that we are destitute, but we’re feeling the pinch like everyone else. It’s reminding me of when we first had babies and I quit my job. We were so broke alllll the time. I still wonder how we made it. I really do.

I’ve been looking here and there at various positions and I have to say I’m shocked at the amount of NON-disclosure that lace the want ads these days. Seriously. I found an ad that looked interesting so I fired off my resume and sure enough received a call the very next day.

When I started asking probing questions, I found that this prospective employer had left out a few major details in their ad. Details like: Must be will to travel, must be willing to work 40 hour weeks which doesn’t include drive time, must be willing to drive own car to job locations (which ranges from 15 minutes from home to over 3 hours) and my favorite: must be willing to forgo lunches on a regular basis.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I could afford to skip a few lunches. The problem is, according to the LAW employees must take a lunch break if they have worked six hours or more. How does this company get away with it? Simply put, because the employee is working on site at different schools throughout various districts, the employer allows the school to set the schedule. If the school doesn’t schedule a lunch break specifically for the employee, no lunch will be given. There was even some doubt as to whether or not the mandatory 15-minute break would given.

Just for the record, I passed on the job offer. I do have my volunteer work that may turn into a paying position but you know how these things work! And I applied to intern with a writer’s website. I’m about as qualified as my cat is, but I have a better sense of humor, so who knows!

In other news:

I’m still waiting on the BIG news. When I know, you’ll know.

The company’s comin’! The company’s comin’!

The bathroom is only missing the new light fixture for the ceiling and a mirror over the vanity. Then, we are finished. The guests will be arriving on Monday leaving this weekend to wrap it up.

I painted one wall of my kitchen/dining room area and love it. I’ll be painting another wall and the cupboards next. Sadly, they won’t be done before company comes.

I jogged 1.5 miles yesterday and walked an additional 1.5 miles. Hoorah me! And I lost another pound. One more pound to go to first goal. (Man this has taken forever!)

This weekend Master W will grace us with all his cuteness while Soldier Girl goes to drill.

Spoke to those two tiny tyrants on the phone yesterday. Sigh. Missing. Them. Lots.

Off to do something productive like clean the house!

Book Review: Wiser than Serpents

I am a book lover.

L.O.V.E.R

Every once in awhile, I receive a book that grabs my attention, refusing to let go. Sometimes the book will have a remarkable (read: make you THINK about the world around you) message as well. Wiser than Serpents is one of them. Written by Susan May Warren, Wiser is an action packed thriller-romance that will keep you turning pages long after you should have gone to sleep (take my word for it!).

The Story

Her sister had vanished, trapped in a human slavery ring. To find her, FSB agent Yanna Andrevka, arranges her own kidnapping into Taiwan’s sex-trafficking trade. And found herself with no way out.

Gripping isn’t it? With a well developed plot & strong characters, this story could truly have been snatched from the headlines of any major newspaper. I enjoyed the mystery and the bravery of Yanna. She’s a strong woman; self-assured, in control, and just a wee bit head-strong. When she finds herself trapped and face to face with the kingpin of a major crime organization, it looks like there’s no way out. Until…

Well of course there’s a good guy! Of course he’ll be in the right place at the right time. But will Yanna except his help? Will she over come her past and let Delta Force captain David Curtiss into her heart? Will David be strong enough to follow God’s leading and not follow his own desires? This is one gripping read and I know (I KNOW) you’ll enjoy it as much as me and my daughter have.

The Author



Award winning and best selling author Susan May Warren and family served eight years as missionaries in Khabarovsk, Far East Russia. She now writes full-time in northern Minnesota. Currently she has over 500,000 books in print.

The inspiration for Wiser than Serpents came from a magazine article on the global slave trade. Susan knew she must do something. She found the International Justice Mission (IJM) and discovered the inspiration for her story, as well as a worthy cause to support. 15% of the royalties from Wiser will be donated to IJM and the rescue work they do to free slaves across the globe.

For more information or to donate to IJM please visit: www.IJM.org

The Contest

Susan is giving away not just a signed copy of this book, but the entire Mission Russia series. All you need to do is visit Scribbles: Susan May Warren’s website (click here) and leave her a comment telling her which mission organizations you support and why.

The highest compliment I can give is to say that when I finished reading Wiser I handed it to my daughter. That doesn't happen very often.