Friday!

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I made a crustless asparagus quiche, and although it needs some tweaking (I roasted the asparagus a little too long), it’s my new favorite thing. Even better? We had family in town for dinner last night, and they helped eat the quiche. (I’m not terribly keen on the idea of snacking on quiche for a week.) ((The secret ingredient? IT’S MAYONNAISE. And by putting mayonnaise in a quiche, I have officially stepped out of my box/wheel house/cliché tent. Proof? I’m making nut milk this weekend, and it has everything to do with cashews and nothing to do with what YOU’RE picturing right now.))

We walked to the library last week and Meredith checked the job board while we were there. (I believe it’s her dream for me to work at the library.) She was really excited to see that they were accepting applications for teen volunteers over the summer, so she filled out an application, wrote a really great cover letter, and crossed her fingers. Last night we received word that she got the job. Suddenly, Meredith is living the dream for three to six hours each week until August.

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The side of our house is being eaten by roses.

The health coach adventure is going very well. Briefly: I’m currently focusing on keeping carbs lower than proteins and fats. Avocados blended with tomatoes and a little olive oil, vinegar, sea salt, and pepper? I’ll eat lots of it. Cashew milk? I’m going to make some. Exercise? I’m doing it (10,000 steps per day and my butt challenge, which I haven’t talked about.) Weight loss? Four pounds in three weeks which is Just Fine.

This morning I was walking and this song shuffled and suddenly I was blinking back a few tears. In the mall. The good news? I didn’t drown my sorrows in a big stupid pretzel. (With that said, drowning sorrows in a big stupid pretzel is definitely a choice. It may not support my health goals right now, but nevertheless. It is a choice. And so is whiskey. And so is crustless quiche.)

Enjoy your weekend. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The flowers and the nuts and the flowers.

If I was one of those people who planned big gatherings for internet friends, I would invite each and every one of you to my house right now. All of your comments and support from my most recent “I’m ready to be healthy” post has floored me. I keep sitting down to respond to everyone and then I get all whooshed with happy thoughts. I’m the luckiest.

Oh! If you *did* come to my house right now, you would be greeted with a climbing rose that I didn’t even know existed six months ago! It bloomed this morning, and I keep going outside to check on it. (It’s always okay. I think it will be fine.)

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A few years back, my parents gave me a rose bush for my birthday, and although it never really thrived (throve? was thriven?), I worked with it every year until it pushed out a few blooms.

...is a rose is a rose is a rose, et cetera

When we moved away, I really considered digging it up and taking it with us, but that seemed like something a normal person wouldn’t do. (A rose bush is not a child or a pet, right?) Anyway, I’m really excited about the new red roses, and if you came to my Fluid Pudding Internet Buddies Gathering, I would let you clip one of them and wear it in your hair if that’s your sort of thing. And then we would dance, and by “we” I mean “you” because I haven’t had a drink in over 14 months.

This morning I melted some dark chocolate and threw in some crushed up macadamia nuts.

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I then poured it into a parchment-lined dish and sprinkled it with sea salt.

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After refrigerating it for about an hour or so, I stabbed it repeatedly with a butter knife.

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And now I have a snack.

One last thing. Jeff and the girls took me out to choose a plant for Mother’s Day yesterday.

I went with an Ivy Geranium.

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I’m proud to say that my newfound love of plants and flowers is starting to rub off on Meredith. She found a black petunia hidden amongst the pinks and purples, and she couldn’t leave without it.

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In between saying you’ve seen too much and saying you’ve seen it all before…

Truth: Since my hysterectomy last year, I have gained 20 pounds and I’m not happy about how I feel.

If you know me at all (and by now, I think you do), you know that I struggle with the whole weight thing. In high school, someone called me Thick. In college, one of my roommates called me Wide. (Although I appreciate honesty, please know that these people have been eliminated from my circle.) I gained 80 pounds with my first pregnancy, and then I lost 93 pounds by combining Weight Watchers with lactation. I’m back up 40 pounds since then and most importantly: I used to own a Duncan Butterfly Yo-Yo, so I’m a bit of an expert.

You’re bored. I know you are. Here. Let’s speed things up a little: I’ve now reached the point where I don’t even want to leave the stinking house (it doesn’t really stink) because my clothes don’t fit and I’m constantly tired and my ankles feel creaky and unless I do something NOW, I’m going to go too far to get back home. (Figuratively. See sentence 4 of this paragraph. By the way, while I’m not leaving the stinking house, I would appreciate any advice you can offer on killing weeds that grow in flower beds. I’d prefer to go the natural way if possible, as long as the natural way doesn’t involve me bending over for six hours each day pulling dandelions and clover out of the ground, which is probably something that I SHOULD do, as evidenced by the very first sentence of this post.)

A few days back I reached out to a friend who is a certified holistic health coach. She sent a questionnaire to me and I filled it out and this morning we had a conversation via Skype. One week from today I’ll be kicking off a new routine and I’d like to take you with me. In other words, for the sake of accountability, I’d like to check in and let you know how it’s going for the next six months. Is that okay? (If it’s not okay, we need to figure some things out.)

This will not be a diet.

This will not be a hard core exercise adventure.

This will be me climbing a ladder and Kathy holding the bottom of it to make sure I don’t fall off. (That’s how she described it during our call, and I loved the image it conjured.)

This is me when I was in really good shape.

Dauphin Island, August 8, 1999

The adorable baby in that photo is my nephew, and he’ll be graduating from high school next year. (The photo was taken in 1999. He has doubled his height and can now speak in full witty sentences!) Anyway, my goal is to be comfortable in my own skin at his graduation, and that probably seems like a silly goal to you, but for me? It’s huge. (Disclaimer: Please know that I plan on wearing clothing to his graduation. As far as I know, being comfortable in JUST my skin wouldn’t be socially acceptable at a high school graduation ceremony. Some day I’ll tell you about the night of my own college graduation.)

((No, I won’t.)) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The this and the that…

Tuesday was Harper’s birthday and Wednesday was Meredith’s birthday and I’m not sure what happened Thursday, but Friday found both girls surrounded by their friends from the new school at our birthday grill party. (12 kids running around the back yard and screaming and making s’mores and I’m so glad the girls are doing well at the new school.)

On Friday evening, I was invited to a party that I couldn’t attend because we were HAVING a party. Suddenly, I don’t even know myself. Clearly, I need more fancy skirts.

On Saturday, we had a birthday lunch with my parents and that led into a couple of the girls’ old school friends spending the night.

On Sunday morning Jeff took the friends home and we headed to the Cardinals game because Harper was singing God Bless America with her school choir before the game. She even made it onto the Jumbotron. (Do I need to hide her friends? They were on the JUMBOTRON, so 14,000 people might have this same photo and I don’t see THEM placing strategic stars!) Anyway, the Cardinals finally won during the 14th inning, and we watched that win from our family room, because we left the stadium at the bottom of the 9th.

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While we’re hanging out and talking about Sunday, check out the sunburn I’m sporting as a result of thinking I’m too good for sufficient sunscreen.

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Not smart.

What else? I finished a shawl.

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(It’s Rock Island by Jared Flood and I’m getting ready to make another. You should make one, too.)

I started an herb garden.

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And, yeah. It looks cute, but it didn’t take long for one of my smart gardening friends to gently tell me that it probably won’t live long because roots don’t like to see the light. Damnit, Pinterest! (The next herbs I buy will be planted in a garden bed because Cute is not Important.)

I started another Honey Cowl, and this will probably be my final car knitting project because school is out in just a few weeks!

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Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of my Cinco de Mayo Hysterectomy, and I have never loved a surgery as much as I loved that one. (Well, except for the two that resulted in babies coming out of me. Those were good ones, too. Appendectomy? Not good. Wisdom Teeth? The suckiest! Tubal ligation? Fun, but only in an Eating Funnel Cake Outside During a Wind Storm sort of way.)

Finally, I’ll be turning 45 (45!!! Please know that I wish numbers could be capitalized because FORTY FIVE!!!) in a week and a day, so I think it’s time to start thinking about health and happiness, as I am not very healthy and it makes me very unhappy. First step: I just bought a bag of avocados. Also, I’m thinking of working up my résumé because if I was living off of my freelance gigs, I probably would have died a few weeks ago. (Wilbur Wright died at age 45. I learned that yesterday.)

Stay tuned. (Or don’t. You’re in control.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>