A new me, instead of new jeans....Welcome to a healthy living! It's fun and refreshing and feels wonderful!

So, call me crazy, but instead of buying a pair of $100 jeans guaranteed to make me look thinner, I actually decided to become thinner!
This of course requires discipline, planning and moderation. Three things that really are not my strong points. I realize that if I sincerely want to make this happen, I have to make this a lifestyle change and not a diet. Nope – I am not using – nor will I ever – use the “D” word again. This new way of eating is a choice. It’s not a punishment (although to hear me complain at times, one would think I am being tortured!).
So, before I go any further, I’d like to give a shout out to some of my new friends: organic baby carrots, oranges and broccoli. Yup, you read correctly. I know, amazing, isn’t it? The girl that literally drools whenever someone mentions the words sourdough bread, chocolate and red wine. They too are my friends and always will be – I just won’t be seeing them as much anymore.
Since I am planning on living to be a very healthy and spry 100 (or more), I decided I’d better get on the bandwagon and take care of this body. The no-no’s - mainly sugar, salt, caffeine, alcohol and bread – were calling me from afar the first few days. I know, what else is there, right?
Well, once I got past the initial shock and caffeine headaches, my body started waking up! I now have more energy, I sleep well and the brain fog is lifting. And better yet, the jeans are getting a little bigger, too!
I am not an exercise person – seriously. But I now enjoy my wii dance moves even more and Yoga seems easier. Simple stuff like parking farther away (unless it’s raining, I mean I do have limitations) in a parking lot and walking the dogs more often now seem fun.
Water is now my best friend. Simple, plain, clear water. Not mixed with anything if you get my drift. I treat myself to soda water in a beautiful glass with a lemon. I carry around a huge jug of my daily requirements. I challenge myself to drink the max and maybe even more. I have made peace with the fact that the restroom and I will be on closer terms.
The best part? I really, truly do enjoy eating the freshly made and flavorful meals. Sure it’s a little more work – shopping, chopping, cutting. But I’m getting creative. I’ve made up recipes and use spices I’ve never bothered with before. Shopping has become an adventure in itself…buying fresh organic foods, healthy organic meats and eggs and delicious fruits and berries.
My habits have changed. I now grab for a sweet carrot instead of something with sugar. Now don’t get me wrong. I’ve not gone CRAZY! I will still partake in some yummy chocolate or a glass of Cabernet. (Or both together!) I will still eat my new found love – bacon. I will still savor warm sour dough bread with freshly made Amish butter. But when I do, I will only have a little. And it will be the best wine/chocolate/bacon/bread I’ve ever tasted!
Fifty (one) is the new 40. Well, actually younger than that! I have new granddaughters to keep up with and dreams and plans (yes, the ol’ bucket list) to accomplish. The easiest way to do that is get this body healthy and running like it was intended to. So bring on the fresh veggies! All I can say is it’s a good thing wine gets better with age – I sure don’t want to waste any of the bottles I have!

The Great White Westie-Wolf

It was that magical time in the morning when our bodies and souls are half awake and half asleep – where wonderful dreams can still happen. It was a cold, Ohio morning and I did not want to get out of my warm, cozy bed. I was dreaming I was camping in Alaska and had an encounter with a lone white wolf. In my dream it was raining and the wolf had me pinned to the ground. When I finally opened my eyes, I was staring into a white muzzle with a coal black nose. Deep black eyes were boring into mine. He was kissing me all over my face, trying to wake me. Charlie, the great white Westie-Wolf, was ready to go outside.
We’ve had Charlie for a little over 2 years now, having adopted him when he was one. He is a special needs dog, and nobody really had the patience for him. His over-exuberance could be annoying to some, and the fact that he seemed to be channeling Tigger, the tiger from Winnie the Pooh, sealed his fate. He was a lap dog that wasn’t supposed to be a lap dog, and somehow he ended up adopting us.
There are two theories that I always take into account when I start getting frustrated with Charlie. The first one is: dogs and their owners are very much alike. The second one is: when someone really annoys you, take a good look at yourself. Those two thoughts always humble me when I get frustrated with Charles. This is a dog that can dance like no one is watching, laugh until he cries and eat with utter abandon. He takes his job of ridding the world of squirrels one by one very seriously, and loves to cuddle on our big chair by the fire – stretching out and snoozing with not a care in the world.
Some of Charlie’s traits I look at with envy. Others I can so relate to. Like forgetting his obedience commands. How can I get angry with him when he forgets to “stay”, when I can’t even remember where I put my reading glasses? How can I push him off my lap when he wants to be held - when truly, sometimes that’s all I want too? How can I get mad and push him down when he dances with joy when I get home from work; wanting to touch me and tell me how much he has missed me?
The main difference between the two of us is that Charlie doesn’t stop to think. He just does. Charlie doesn’t care what other people think. He just is. Charlie lives his life with total abandon and love. He lives in the now, and doesn’t worry about what lies ahead. He doesn’t regret about the past. I never see Charlie pouting because he still hasn’t caught one of the squirrels that taunt him from the yard. He just keeps trying, certain one of these days, one of those squirrels is going down.
As much of an energizer bunny he can be, he is so sweet and gentle with our granddaughters. He will patiently sit in the princess castle/tent, and gladly wear crowns and play with Barbie. He is very much a gentleman when fed a piece of hotdog or cheese. When the princesses finally wind down, Charlie is right there beside them, head on their knee, watching Sponge Bob. He carefully cleans peanut butter and jelly off tiny hands and licks up tears when someone scrapes a knee. He is a true friend and protector.
So now, when Charlie gets on my nerves, I just remind myself that whatever he is doing, he is doing it with love. What more could anyone want? Another true lesson I’ve learned from my great, white Westie-Wolf.

My Imaginary Friend

So, I have this friend I’d like you to meet. She’s an imaginary friend, actually. But before you go judging, let me first introduce you to her – then I will explain.
Her name is Makena…which in Africa means “the happy one”. Makena is from a very small African Village. I don’t know a whole lot about her tribe, except what she wants to share. She and I are the same age, and we are also both grandmothers. That is pretty much where the similarities end.
Makena, besides being my imaginary friend, is also often my voice of reason. She and I have some marvelous conversations. Thankfully they are normally carried on inside my head, where nobody else can hear them.
I tend to vent to Makena. It’s like having coffee with her. So the other day, I was complaining to Makena about our ice storm.
“It was freezing”, I was telling her. “The ice was heavy on the wires and that caused us to lose electricity. We didn’t have lights, hot water or cable TV. It was horrendous.”
“Oh, I totally understand”, said Makena. “The other day the large and heavy bucket that I use to haul our water 3 miles one way had a very large hole in it, so we were without clean water for two days. Not to mention our firewood source is low and I could not warm the water for the rock soup I intended to make for dinner.”
“Oh, that is bad. I can’t imagine. Life sure is tough! I mean I couldn’t watch American Idol or warm up my tea in the microwave. The roads were so bad that the pizza delivery people weren’t working. I even had to pile on an extra blanket to stay warm. What a pain!”
“Oh, my poor friend. I can’t imagine how you handled it. I can relate though. We had a theft in the village the other day. They took our animal skins we use at night for warmth and the torches we use to light our hut. Why would anyone do such a thing? And I know that weather can be our friend, but I also know the weather gods will punish us and test us. Such is your ice storm. You were without your necessities; just like the flood we endured last month. It swept away our belongings and drowned our goats. I am so sorry about your ice storm. It must have been so very hard for you to endure.”
“It was terrible, Makena. You don’t know the half of it. But thanks for listening. I feel better when I can complain to you.”
“You can talk to me anytime you wish, Karen. I am glad I can help. Although I cannot relate to your world, I can truly understand how tough you must have it. Such suffering you must endure. I will listen and try to understand. You have it so much tougher than I…but I will always try to empathize, even if I can’t relate.”
“Thanks Makena. I’m glad somebody will listen to me. Thanks for being there.”
Authors note: Makena will be a recurring character as this writer shares all the hardships she must endure living in Middle America in 2011. She is my reality check…and I’m glad I could share her with you.

W.I.N.O.S

I admit it. I am a wino. Oh, not that kind. Actually, W.I.N.O.S. is an acronym. Now there are those that know me that would attest that I fit the other description for wino, but that is another story.
The W.I.N.O.S. I am referring to stands for Women In Need Of Shopping. I guess both types of winos would be considered an addiction, but at least with shopping the residual effects are not quite as bad....meaning no hangover involved. Oh maybe a possible headache that accompanies potential buyers remorse. Or getting home and finding out that the fantastic outfit you bought doesn’t look nearly as good as it did under the shocking florescent lights of the dressing room. But that headache has a much easier remedy that involves saving your receipt and returning the merchandise. No Advil needed.
Shopping, in its' true state, is quite similar to a sport. Depending on the circumstances it's a combo of horse racing, hockey and football. Of course there aren’t any referees, and unfortunately no safety gear is used. It can be a contact sport at times, and is definitely one that can be an “at your own risk” type of game. Especially when there is a huge sale involved.
I like to think am a very courteous shopper. I don't push, shove, pull or grab. I don't yell. But others do. Trust me. Take for instance around Valentine’s Day. Usually in mid-February, Christmas is but a memory and people are shopping for cruise clothing, Valentine’s Day surprises and even an outfit or two to get them through spring fever. Mid-February also means that the Christmas decorations have been marked down so low the store will pay you to take them home. Normally, this means the decorations are ones that you would never consider purchasing. But when marked down to 90% off the original price, all of a sudden beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and bargain shoppers get a little bit nasty. Last week I had an encounter with one such shopper. I was glancing at an ornament that looked like it involved two dogs of an unknown or as of yet undiscovered breed juggling candy canes. It was dated 2008. As I was looking it over, pondering what kind of person would care to buy such a thing - even at the marked down price of 80 cents – a woman snatched it right out of my hands. That’s all it took. My adrenaline kicked in and the game was on. Oh, it didn’t matter if the candy cane had been chipped and the dogs looked like they had rabies. I needed that ornament. In hindsight, I suppose I didn’t handle myself in the ladylike manner I should have, because the store manager escorted the two of us out to our cars. The other woman gleefully smiled as she climbed into her car, believing she “won” because she had acquired the larger half of the dog ornament. Seems I got the last laugh, however. As she leaned in her car to put her packages away, the other half of the ornament, the black dog with a scary face, smiled at me from the back folds of her winter coat. As far as I know, no medical help was needed to remove it.
Yes, shopping is a sport. I can get just as high (finding the perfect dress) or low (in two sizes too small) as someone carrying a football over the goal line. Just like the other type of winos, I know there is a 12-step program for shop-a-holics. However, since admitting the problem is the first step, I won’t be joining either one in the near future. As with everything, there is a fine line between “want” and “need”. For now, I choose to go with the mantra of my heroes, Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble: “Charge It!”

The Dead (Beat) of Winter

I am not sure if I like the phrase “dead of winter.” Yes, I know it alludes to the coldest time of the year. And I know that when everything goes into hibernation, including humans, we all get a zombie like glaze that is quite common in the Midwest area. But even dead zombies don’t really appear dead.
I firmly believe in the disorder called SADD – Suddenly our Action Definitely Declines. It’s a natural phenomenon that occurs somewhere between the first bowl touchdown and the final markdown sale of Christmas items. We become total slugs. Our goal is to nest, stay warm, eat chili and perfect the art of being a couch potato.
The dead of winter is not really a fun time. The sun goes down by noon, reruns are on television, static runs amuck in hair and clothing, we have to wear ugly boots with our cute dresses and my dogs track in more mud, snow and ice than a polar bear hunting in a frozen bog.
Sure there are those that still go to the gym. There are those that jog with their parkas and ear muffs on. There are even those crazy people that swim in the freezing cold water of the local YMCA. But I tend to go along with the intelligent brown bear: eat as much as you can, kick the children out, bury yourself in a warm cave, and sleep until spring. All I need is a fireplace, a bottle of red wine, my dog to keep my feet warm and a great book and winter can keep on keeping on.
But, just as I start getting very comfortable being a slug – just as the term “complacent” becomes my mantra, nature steps in and kicks me out of my reverie. After a long bout of very short, dark and dreary days, dull grey skies and bad movies on the Lifetime channel, something magical happens. The sky starts dumping snow. Lots and lots of beautiful, shining, pristine white snow. Snow perfect for sledding, building snowmen, skiing, building snow forts, and hiking with the dogs. It beckons for us to don our colorful hats, scarves and mittens and come out and play. It magically covers the grey and brightens up the landscape. It coats the pine trees like powdered sugar and makes the hills and slopes look like a whipped cream delight. It gets neighbors out helping each other shovel, happy to catch up.
So even though we may return to our zombie like trances and will have to wear bronzer so we won’t look like Robert Patterson, for now, the snow is calling. It’s time to get outside and laugh and play and burn some calories….because old man winter isn’t quite finished with the dreariness yet.

The "R" Word - New Years Goals or - Bacon Rules!

Ok, here it comes. The “R” word. It’s the first day of 2011, and I am setting goals and making promises to myself. I really don’t like the word “resolution” because it undoubtedly involves failure – and usually deprivation of some sort. Hence, the word goals.
My first goal is pretty simple: Eat bacon. I have been depriving myself of this major food group for 12 years. As a quasi-vegetarian I would eat lots of fish and at times dip my toe into the “fowl” arena, but chose not to eat red meat, pork and yes – definitely no bacon. Oh, a time or two I would splurge on turkey bacon – and I always had tofu bacon on hand. (You can’t lie about something like that). Trust me; a fake BLT is not my favorite summertime food. But something magical happened to me a couple of days ago. I was having dinner with a good friend of mine and we ordered blue cheese smothered homemade potato chips topped with huge chunks of real bacon bits. (Oh yes, so very good). Normally I would order them sans bacon. It was habit. But I forgot to say “no bacon please”. And when they arrived, I grabbed a loaded chip and popped it in my mouth without even thinking. And a party ensued. My mouth loved every second, and some kind of sensor was sending euphoric signals to my brain. Bacon! I had deprived myself of this wonderful food group for 12 long years! No more. I felt like that little dog on the TV commercial. Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!
I will still be mainly a fishetarian but with one minor exception – I will be adding bacon to the mix. I have done a little research on the subject. Bacon contains Vitamin B1, B12, Zinc & Selenium. National Bacon Day is held the Saturday before Labor Day. The most popular flavors include: hickory, maple, applewood and mesquite. I now have heard about chocolate covered bacon, bacon flavored ice cream and bacon martinis. Brings a whole new meaning to the term “sweet and salty” – but the older I become I have learned to “never say never”. Which is why I ordered a T-shirt that says “Bacon is Meat Candy”. Ahhhh - and it is, it really is.
I really only have one other goal besides eating bacon – and that is to move my body more (I don’t like the word exercise). The two goals really are a perfect match. The second goal allows me to enjoy the first goal even more.
I guess I realized, after 12 years of silliness, that bacon really does make everything better. So, Happy New Year everyone – and - in the words of Homer Simpson, “MMMMM, Bacon”.

Searching for Christmas Peace

So, I have decided that this year, Christmas for me will be all about the feeling, the love and the spirit and not just about “things”. (Now where did I see that newspaper advertisement with the coupon for 15% off at the toy store and the listing of all the specials at the mall?)
I am totally committed to slowing down and enjoying the season. (I have 15 minutes to write this before I have to leave for another Christmas party.)
I am choosing not to go overboard with the decorating this year. (“Hi Mom. Oh, yes, we finished decorating. No, we definitely trimmed back – only 5 trees this year. And really, the one in the bathroom isn’t big enough to count.”)
I realize that I may get a little bit silly when it comes to making things “Christmas-y”. (“Honey, the dog is hiding under the bed. He refuses to let me put on the reindeer antlers and elf costume.”)
I don’t want to be out of control when it comes to gift wrap. (“Hello, Dollar Tree? Can you please hold one case of that pretty red and green checked gift wrap that has the matching red velvet ribbon for me? What, you don’t put items on hold? Ok, I’ll be right there. Uh huh, I know you close at midnight. Yes, I can drive fast. You still have a couple boxes of invisible tape, don’t you?”)
I refuse to over-spend and buy presents that really don’t mean anything to anyone. (“Honestly son, how can you say you don’t need the new Chia Pet? What about the new Clapper? It has its own remote control switch now…”)
I know that normally I go over-board with eating, and therefore I really am going to control my appetite. I will eat healthy and drink less during the holidays. (“Hey, thanks for inviting me to the party! Wow, great buffet line. Is that eggnog I see next to the cheese balls? Oh, and did you make your homemade fudge again? Wine? Why thank you, don’t mind if I do!”)
I am not going to over-dress for the various functions I am attending. It’s really kind of silly. December is just another month – no need to over-do it. (“Yes, hi, I noticed the display in the window and I was wondering if you have that silver glitter blouse in my size. Oh, and those dangly earrings with the snowflakes would look perfect with the black shiny skirt. Can you please call your other store location to see if they have these black leather pumps with the silver heel?”)
I truly intend to enjoy Christmas and the things I love most: To me it is about the people and about the happy joyous feeling. It’s about lunches and parties and meeting friends for a glass of Christmas cheer. It’s about planning Christmas Eve dinner with the kids and baking cookies for Santa. It’s about watching “Christmas Vacation” and “It’s a Wonderful Life” all month long - with “White Christmas” thrown in as well. It’s about fires in the fireplace, singing along with my favorite Christmas songs, and admiring the lights and decorations in my neighborhood. It’s about laughter, and hope and realizing that this joy I feel can really be felt all year long. I vow to slow down and experience all of it. (Right after I finish addressing my Christmas Cards and putting the final touches on the wreath.)
Santa Baby, all I really want for Christmas is peace. Not just for me though – for everyone I love: for my family, for all of my friends, and finally - for the world. I vow to sit back and bask in the peace that abounds in my life…all I have to do is actually slow down to realize it’s right there in front of me.
I wish you all peace and joy and goodwill towards men. Pass the sugar cookies, please. I still have 100 cards to address.