A Very Full Weekend
This weekend was gorgeous. Sunny but not too warm. Philip planted a total of 24 asparagus crowns in two 8x4 beds and I cleared and mulched the blueberry patch. It felt so good to get some garden work done. I had to be very careful though because my back has been twingey and my ankle started hurting again. While weeding, as often happens, I got all philosophical and then wrote a huge post about it on Stitch and Boots. What Does Your Garden Say About You? 
Sunday we went up to Rainbow Lake again and Philip and Max found a deer skeleton. I find these skull markings both fascinating and kind of unsettling. Did nature design this skull to be seen, because it sure looks arty to me!
We had to buy a bunch of things from the farm store and while there we took a look at the chick schedule and chose two possible dates on which to acquire 6 new chicks and I wrote an exciting list of the varieties we can choose from this year. We are definitely getting two Araucanas because we've had one before and love them. But what else shall we choose? Welsummers? Sussex? Blue Andalusian? I have some research to do! Meanwhile, I came home and spent some time with my girls trying to capture their charm on film. I could almost swear they are superstitious and think the camera is trying to steal their souls. Chickens never look funnier than when they're looking straight at you. At all other times they actually look rather clever like the dinosaurs they evolved from or mean, if you're scared of them, or curious the way they tilt their heads sideways the way birds do to get a better view of your most bizarre human form and to admire those shiny orbs that ought to adorn their nest...
I also unearthed my Rebel XT which I set down a year ago after breaking my favorite lens. I didn't like using the other lens I had. Philip and I got to talking about cameras and I pulled it out and can't believe I let it sit for so long. It's such a great camera, even with the lens I don't love. I also found pictures on the memory card that I had never uploaded. This is one of them. Taken during a crazy snowstorm, the one that started three weeks of being wonderfully snowed in! It's not looking like we'll get more snow this year.
Am I the only person in the world who suspects that Poirot and Hastings might have had a little more than solving crime going on between them? I'd also like to know how come Miss Lemon never has a beau?
Crafters: please don't call tutorials "tutes".
I've been saving money I made from my Etsy shop to buy a plane ticket to New York so that I can attend the Blogher Conference. I have a close friend I can stay with in the West Village who swears she isn't bothered by snoring (but Philip says that's because she never goes to sleep before at least 4am) and I almost have enough. It was a really close thing there because this month we had to lay out another hefty sum for some dental work for Max and I was certain it would decimate the modest sum I'd saved. However, the blessing of being paid hourly wages is that a couple of times a year you get an extra paycheck in a month and I think that's what happened. Either that or Philip's overtime paid off.
The point is- it's looking much more like I might be able to go.
But I can't go to New York unless I lose weight.
You think I'm being vain and that's so unkind. The real reason is that my ass is so fat now that squeezing it into those little tiny airline seats is uncomfortable. I don't like to make constant contact with total strangers via my thigh fat. Dudes! It's truly not chic!
Oh never mind. I really am vain and I can' t stand the thought of going to a conference with 2,000 other bloggers who all have cameras. Pictures will be taken. I don't want to look like a slab of pork next to all those cute chicks. Especially not the ones I work with. No way.
I really want to make a declaration that I will lose ten pounds a month for the next 6 months. The problem is that every time I make such a declaration I gain 20 pounds. People do this whole losing weight after looking like a 256 pound sausage all the time. Why can't that be me? I'd still be chubby but wouldn't have to rub thighs with strangers on airplanes or have to buy a larger size of underwear, or hire a special aid to tie my shoes for me.
What would it take? I have been getting more exercise but we all know, all of us who watch the train-wreck I am, what stands between me and getting my metabolism to actually do some work again.
BEER.
If I want to achieve this goal it will mean practically giving up all beer for several months in favor of wine, and not too much of it either.
The only problem I can see with this is that all of my blood has already been replaced by beer. If I stop drinking it- won't I die?
I know I will feel vast shame if I arrive in New York just as I am today and not just because of the other bloggers at Blogher, but because my close friend (the one who says she won't mind my snoring) is like a Pre-Raphaelite painting (though she doesn't see it) and I don't want to be the curiosity walking next to her through the West Village.
I must take this opportunity to work harder at changing the thing I've come to believe cannot be changed. There is a reason why my little New York nest egg was spared being handed over to the dentist.
I must go meditate on how I might muster up and then maintain motivation to accomplish this possible feat.
Am I the only person in the world who suspects that Poirot and Hastings might have had a little more than solving crime going on between them? I'd also like to know how come Miss Lemon never has a beau?
Crafters: please don't call tutorials "tutes".
I've been saving money I made from my Etsy shop to buy a plane ticket to New York so that I can attend the Blogher Conference. I have a close friend I can stay with in the West Village who swears she isn't bothered by snoring (but Philip says that's because she never goes to sleep before at least 4am) and I almost have enough. It was a really close thing there because this month we had to lay out another hefty sum for some dental work for Max and I was certain it would decimate the modest sum I'd saved. However, the blessing of being paid hourly wages is that a couple of times a year you get an extra paycheck in a month and I think that's what happened. Either that or Philip's overtime paid off.
The point is- it's looking much more like I might be able to go.
But I can't go to New York unless I lose weight.
You think I'm being vain and that's so unkind. The real reason is that my ass is so fat now that squeezing it into those little tiny airline seats is uncomfortable. I don't like to make constant contact with total strangers via my thigh fat. Dudes! It's truly not chic!
Oh never mind. I really am vain and I can' t stand the thought of going to a conference with 2,000 other bloggers who all have cameras. Pictures will be taken. I don't want to look like a slab of pork next to all those cute chicks. Especially not the ones I work with. No way.
I really want to make a declaration that I will lose ten pounds a month for the next 6 months. The problem is that every time I make such a declaration I gain 20 pounds. People do this whole losing weight after looking like a 256 pound sausage all the time. Why can't that be me? I'd still be chubby but wouldn't have to rub thighs with strangers on airplanes or have to buy a larger size of underwear, or hire a special aid to tie my shoes for me.
What would it take? I have been getting more exercise but we all know, all of us who watch the train-wreck I am, what stands between me and getting my metabolism to actually do some work again.
BEER.
If I want to achieve this goal it will mean practically giving up all beer for several months in favor of wine, and not too much of it either.
The only problem I can see with this is that all of my blood has already been replaced by beer. If I stop drinking it- won't I die?
I know I will feel vast shame if I arrive in New York just as I am today and not just because of the other bloggers at Blogher, but because my close friend (the one who says she won't mind my snoring) is like a Pre-Raphaelite painting (though she doesn't see it) and I don't want to be the curiosity walking next to her through the West Village.
I must take this opportunity to work harder at changing the thing I've come to believe cannot be changed. There is a reason why my little New York nest egg was spared being handed over to the dentist.
I must go meditate on how I might muster up and then maintain motivation to accomplish this possible feat.
Comments (1)
Certainly hear you pain on the air planes thing. That experience both on air planes and long haul buses I find totally demoralising.
As hard as I know it is, many days I am right there with you, trying to pull positive results from shame seldom works. Change based in self respect and self love is so much easier to sustain. How we get there from where we are I am really not sure but I am trying to find it. Best wishes for finding the love.
Kind Regards
Belinda
Posted by simply.belinda | February 22, 2010 7:13 PM
Posted on February 22, 2010 19:13