Baseline

 I'm excited about starting on the meds experiment! I think it's worthwhile to capture the baseline from which I hope to change. Of course, I've got the data!

 

Horizontal grid shows 10-pound differences. 
The blue line was my ideal weight, briefly achieved twice. 
The red line was my stable point after I started blogging, until I blew it.

Look at the picture of my weight loss history, starting back when I was a 35-year-old little girl going to Weight Watchers in a church basement for the first time. (You might need to go landscape on your phone.) The first Big Loss, more than 40 pounds at age 43, was done so easily. I followed, mostly, the Carbohydrate Addict's diet - very low carb most of the time, but not full Atkins. The second big loss, in perimenopause as I started this blog in 2010, was harder, but was pretty much the same eating pattern. Then, for several years, I white knuckled keeping the weight in bounds. I was in some of the best shape of my life, as I decided hitting "goal" was worth anything, I did - for a couple of days. Again, pretty much the same eating, more Atkins than not. Then, the classic rebound, and then I threw every habit and guideline out the window to go intuitive. I tuned in to myself, and myself wanted bread and pasta and ice cream. Since then, I've been trying to wrestle my weight back down, and things that used to work either don't work anymore or somehow have become too hard.

So here I am, relatively stable at a peak weight that I hate. It's about moving, and feeling, and spending so much time thinking about it. It's about needing bigger pants. 

Here is a zoom in to the last 3+ years.

Weight from 2022 to present.
Green line is short term goal.

My weight has bounced around in a 5-pound range, hitting the highest weight ever a couple of times. I've done some attempts at weight loss. Some were minor-ly successful, until they weren't. Each required phenomenal amounts of focus and concentration. I'm just tired.

As part of my "baseline" prep, I've also measured myself with a tape measure. Again, I've got some history on this, and yeah, I'm bigger than ever. 

My scale also purports to measure body composition in terms of muscle versus fat. These measurements are notoriously inaccurate, except when looking at trends. So I'll be keeping an eye on that, as well. Over the time I've had this scale, less time than shown on the graph above, it hasn't varied significantly. It will take a big change to show up, and that will be with a lot water-weight driven noise. 

I believe I've got about a decade to do some adventurous things I want to do, and this is the decade to give it a shot. Here's hoping the meds help me get there and do the things I want to do.

High Summer

It's about as summery as summer can get around here. We're having a severe drought and a serious heat wave. We have one hot golden day after another, with daylight until nine at night. I'm all in on summer this year. Here are things that are letting me know it's really really peak summertime:

• Watermelon cocktails! 
• Basil in everything, including watermelon cocktails!
• Sailing! This is the first year my boat partner is also retired, meaning weekday sailing!
• Tomatoes! With basil!
  
• Dresses! With flip flops and painted toes! (and slip shorts, thanks Kim!)
  
• Peaches! Some things I only buy at farmer's markets, never ever at the grocery store. Peaches are #1 on that short list.
• Ice cream! New flavors to try! With peaches! With basil! With cocktails!
  
• Corn on the cob! Also on the farmer's market only list (except for the stunted ears I grew myself!) It goes well with basil!
  
• Shrimp on the barby! Wrapped in basil, of course!
• Sprinklers and running through the water! Every single morning watering! Dogs chasing the water! Picking the basil before it goes limp in the heat!
  
• Very early morning exercise, with slanty golden light before it gets too hot!
  
• Opening up the windows every morning, only for a couple of hours! Smelling the basil!
  
• Huddling up to the air conditioner every afternoon! Closing the blinds to keep the sun out!
• Evening happy hour in our cul de sac, with the pavement too hot to set a beer down! Parents comparing notes on the multiple camps and car pools for the kids out of school! Sharing the basil!

 

Seasons of Covid

Happy New Year! Our holiday was OK, but Covid cast its shadow. (Spoiler: nobody is sick yet.) 

Christmas Eve

Peripatetic Big Boy (vaxxed and boosted) had been in San Diego at the college frisbee finals until Tuesday, because he is coach of the women's team. Then he went back to Michigan, packed furiously (because he's moving to Berkeley for the next semester, was going to fly from here), drove himself to my house and arrived on Thursday, the 23rd, with one huge and two small suitcases and his negative PCR test result from Wednesday's swab. We dined together, and he settled into the basement suite. Friday, Christmas Eve, he texted about noon from the basement: "Update: one of my players tested positive". 

So then we began a furious search for a place to do rapid and/or PCR testing in the next few hours (because I didn't plan far enough ahead to have many home tests on hand). Many unwieldy website experiences later, I secured an appointment for 4 pm about half an hour away. Text at 4:30 from the long drive-through line: "Will I run out of gas waiting in line? Only time will tell!".  He arrived back home at 6 pm - the time the family was originally planning to assemble for dinner - along with his negative test result. But he had a bad sore throat (no fever), and more and more of the frisbeers were reporting in positive. 

So then began a furious consultation about whether we believed the test result or not! Should I pack food and take it to BILs house? SO MUCH WORK! But at his point, none of the others had been with BB and so were not at risk for a secondary exposure. We ended up in a cautious middle ground: they would come over, but no BB eating in the same room, my air filter running and open windows and BB masked and somewhat distant for conversations when we weren't eating. 

Julekage! The girl comes through!

This whole thing blew up my plans. This sounds like such a shallow and vain whine - but Christmas Eve dinner is my big event of the year. I had timetables written out, of when to do what. Roast in the oven, vegetables prepped and ready for cooking, when to change the tablecloth and set the table,  cooking commences at this point, candles need to be lit, appetizers and drinks to keep people busy while making gravy... None of this went according to plan. Dinner was an hour late, food wasn't optimal, BB ate by himself in the basement - I set plates outside his room, he came out and got them when I was back upstairs. Tablecloth never got changed, candles never got lit. Almost no pictures were taken. So did it even happen?

And another tradition got booted around. We have to have the Norwegian Christmas bread on Christmas morning. It's called Julekage, for goodness sake - it has Christmas in the name! Several years ago, BB, the baker in the family, took over this tradition. But he spent the afternoon trying to get tested, and I was in a kerfluffle, so suddenly it was after dinner and the Julekage hadn't been started. No-one thought it was a good idea for BB to bake. I declared I wasn't up to staying up and doing it. We discussed making it on Christmas day to have later, but that didn't seem like it made the magic happen. So my girl stepped up and stepped forth and did it! It took her most of the night, but we had also decided that noon was actually when Christmas morning started for us, so that worked out ok.

Christmas night

Christmas morning and evening were over at my BIL's house, with the same rules of distancing. Except for brief appearances, BB stayed alone in the basement suite. He had been planning to leave on Sunday for a fabulous vacation with friends - an AirBnB right outside Yosemite. But I offered and he accepted to stay hunkered down in the basement, where he had his own bedroom, bathroom, open windows, and access to separate living room and even a home gym. I got him an appointment for a PCR test on Wednesday, the first available, and he rescheduled his flight. Sunday, I was done cooking, but it was reasonably pleasant out so I bought hot dogs and buns, set out drinks, and folks came over to hang in the backyard under blankets.

Boxing Day

As BB's last known exposure to the infected people was Tuesday night before Christmas, he decided to try for a test sooner than the (8 days after) Wednesday plan. Monday, he went to a county-run walk-in place, but they ran out of tests and shut down after half an hour. Consulting with friends, he secured an appointment for a PCR test Tuesday night in Baltimore, and combined it with an outdoor firepit visit to a close friend who lives there. Test results came in about 18 hours, negative! Yay! Out of quarantine! He visited with some friends on Wednesday. After big family confab, most of us declined to dine together in a restaurant, so BB and I got Ethiopian takeout together, BIL closed his vaccine clinic which was in a bar and became a customer, and my girl and middle boy went to a private party.

Lines for testing - but with my appointment,
it took me six minutes

Thursday morning, day of BB's flight to California, new twist! My girl's two best friends, folks she and Middle Boy partied with the day before, were both positive! Oh no! (I had not seen my guys in this window, no secondary exposure from this source for me.) So girl and boy, both vaxed but boosted just this week, are hunkered down in quarantine at BIL's house, and I won't see the three of them until some clearance point is reached - not sure what that will be. I provided lots of info on available testing options, but left it to them to schedule. I did say if they are non-symptomatic I would drive them to tests (masked and with windows open). 

BB got off to California, with his plane delayed but not cancelled. Fierce headwinds across the country - just another bit of unpleasantness to add to the mix.

Cool lighting for our little dispersed party

Friday, New Year's Eve, was damp but fairly warm. Some neighbors opened their backyard to a party that started at 3 pm, with a planned small-child countdown and ball drop at 6 pm, and additional plans for adults to continue outside until it rained or midnight, whichever came first. I went over in the afternoon with a bottle of wine and it was pleasant. There are many small children in the immediate neighborhood, and I hadn't been around any for quite some time. I just observed, didn't touch. We remained mostly distant, everyone had masks near to hand, and many actually wore them. And two families on the street were isolating, wouldn't join outside. (Our host actually invited them to mask and come, and both families firmly declined. It was clear this was a relief to some of the others. Risk tolerances vary.) One of the isolating families had another milestone - it was the last day of work for the man - and we all walked over to bang on his door and serenade him (the only appropriate song we could think of was "For he's a jolly good fellow".) I lasted at the party for nearly four hours, but once again didn't make it to midnight this year. Maybe if I don't start drinking at 4?

I had made myself an appointment for PCR testing as soon as I heard of BB's exposure. The test was Thursday am; as of this writing (about 50 hours later) I don't have results.

So it feels like we're all going to get it. What I thought I knew about transmission - that outside would be mostly safe - no longer feels right. As I think my family members here will probably continue a slightly more aggressive risk stance than me, I'm planning on mostly being physically alone for a while. Luckily, this suits me fine. I picture myself walking with the dog and without the dog, working out in my gym, engaging with friends near and far virtually, gardening indoors and outside if the weather permits, reading, watching movies and TV. Basically, what I've done for two years, but with better strength and energy. Maybe, I'll try baking bread. I am so grateful for the many advantages I have in this dismal situation, and feel so strongly for those less well off than me. 

I felt the need to document this time.

UPDATE: Rapid tests should both my girl and middle boy negative, five days in. So I think they will leave the house, masking everywhere for the rest of ten days. 

Not a Fan

From left: Captain Hook, Tinkerbelle, Peter Pan,
The Crocodile, and Wendy

I am not a fan of Halloween. I'm not opposed to it, of course. I liked seeing my kids and their friends dressed up when they were little. I've been known to hold a plastic hook and brandish a cutlass when pirates are needed. Pumpkin decorating can be fun. I'm glad the current state of pandemic caution says trick-or-treating is likely safe and so the kids who have missed so much can enjoy it. 

But I'm not a fan of horror books or movies or zombies or what looks like dead people all over people's lawns. Pumpkins left outside get smashed or eaten by deer or squirrels. Most of the candy is poor quality, but I've been known to eat it anyway. Bah humbug!

Now, I'm holed up in my basement bunker with all of the outside and upstairs lights turned off. It's very quiet; I'm just reading. I have a dog that goes berserk - like Rumpelstiltskin about to explode with fury - when someone comes to the door. I figured it was better to hide both of us than to leave him furious and scared all night. I did leave a bowl of M&M packets on the front porch, if anyone ventures up in the dark. It'll be interesting to see if any of it is there in the morning.

EEEK! Imagine how I jumped (and the dog too) when the door to the next room here in the basement started moving with something knocking against it just now! Turns out the robot vacuum cleaner is on its appointed rounds. Hopefully we can settle back in to the book for a while.

Hey, It’s October!

 I finally woke up to the fact that if I’m going to use my pumpkin tablecloth at all, I’d better hop to it. I love this little vignette!

Right Sized Christmas

I know many many people are feeling sad and cut off this Christmas. The situation of our country and even the world sucks. But for me, this Christmas is feeling cozy and comforting. I have a small immediate family, almost no extended family, and not a big social circle. We all got tested Monday, and have been mostly quarantining before and since (except for necessary errands). So actually, while I'm missing some friends and feel keenly for those more isolated than me, this Christmas will be similar to the last couple of years and feels just right. Or very nearly so. It'll be fine.

Christmases of my childhood, youth, and younger adulthood were always with my small family. We moved quite a bit when I was a child, so socially we saw a bit of friends at the holidays, but mostly were turned to each other. From high school until 2006, my parents lived in the same house in the same tiny town, so rituals of Christmas Eve cookies at our friends' house, with always the same other families, followed by late night carol service at the church where my parents were pillars, were welcome additions to our family rituals. While we decorated and celebrated at our own places, my brother and sister and I almost always managed to be there in Bellport for at least Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. When my sister had kids, she and the whole family, sometimes including parts of her husbands large extended family, would come up as well (I think we peaked at 12 people one year). Even as the kids grew anxious about Santa being able to find them away from home, we went there until my mother sold the house and moved down near us. We had a couple of years to establish new rituals, Christmas Eve at my house and Christmas morning (finally!) at her house, with stockings hung by the chimney with care and a big pile of presents.

 

At age 58, I was suddenly and traumatically thrust into parenthood for my sister's three children, in close partnership with their father. For the first time in my life, I was responsible for feeding not just me, but a whole traumatized family every single day. That first Christmas we were all totally shell-shocked, and my recently married brother and sister-in-law came up with the brilliant idea to go to Topsail Beach in North Carolina for the holidays, along with her three adult children. The place was one of happy summer memories, and we were physically removed from where we had Christmas memories from the past. Still, I remember that time with the kids and their father following through what my sister-in-law and I put together by rote, willing to try but basically robots. 

My sister was the social party animal in the family, and I was bound and determined to live up to her standards with the kids. So for subsequent Chistmases, my brother-in-law bought a tree and got it to stand upright in the living room, and I was responsible for absolutely everything else. One year, every single present under the tree was bought and wrapped by me - I even wrapped something for myself. (It's true, my mother didn't get anything at all for the kids or me, though I used some of her money and put "from Grandma" on some tags). With intense jealousy between the kids, I did a spreadsheet of what I'd gotten each one, striving for balance. One year, on Christmas Eve the kids' father bought the youngest an expensive toy, destroying the balance and sparking complaints and subsequent fights when all the presents were opened. Oh well. He was so happy to do it, and it was meant with love. As the kids grew older, the two younger had dark depressive periods where they didn't lift a finger to help decorate, while the oldest physically and mentally separated himself from the others. Christmas was a chore, not a joy. But I kept it going.

I had had an epiphany one night, cursing under my breath as I sorted silverware in the drawer, putting salad forks into a separate slot from the larger dinner forks. Suddenly, I thought, "if they don't care, why should I bother? Does this even mattter?" With that realization, I let go of it, upended the silverware bin from the just finished dishwasher into the drawer all higgledy-piggedly,  and I walked away from it. This wasn't anger, but acceptance.  I didn't allow things to devolve into complete chaos, and nobody went hungry or got sick from the relaxed hygiene standards, (though one year what my girl wanted for Christmas was forks because they had all disappeared) but things were more relaxed. Instead of living up to some unachievable past ideal, we started to make our own way, together.

Still, for Christmas, I tried to keep things moving. It was such a challenge when I was working! I had to juggle holiday leave with my co-workers and subordinates. When the kids were in school, like all parents I prioritized the week between Christmas and New Year's as the time to be together, but I always took some time before hand to get things ready. I focused on food over decorating, but shopping required many separate trips. We have a tradition now of fancy dinner Christmas Eve at my house, present opening Christmas morning at the kids' (really their dad's) house, and after-nap second fancy dinner back at my house. Each of those meals has some elements that have to be present, others that can change. I recall one year, not that long ago, I had a large chart hand drawn on the whiteboard, with an elaborate project plan and countdown to the big day. For example, if I buy the Christmas roast early, I have to freeze it, and remember to take it out of the freezer and put in the fridge a couple of days ahead.

I had a huge internal celebration several years ago when my big boy took over making the traditional Norwegian Christmas bread my mother used to make. (I had the Julekage mantle for only one year.) This year, the kids have taken over Christmas day dinner, which will be at their dad's house, and we've added to our mix a live-in girlfriend. I'm quite relaxed about my continuing responsibilities for Christmas Eve and morning. It'll be fine. For the first time in some years, my girl and I made cookies. She helped me decorate my house, and is in charge and bossing her father at her house. It'll be fine. I got a new little tree, and so can use more of my ornaments than in recent years. It'll all be fine. Presents are bought. I made festive cloth bags a few years ago, so wrapping is way quicker and wastes way less paper than in previous years. And, it turns out, they all want gifts, but they really don't want much. They want to be together and enact some rituals. It'll be fine. It'll be more than fine.  I really like Christmas, and this song captures the feelings just right.