The Older I Get, The More I Want To Be Outside

The other night as I walked through the back porch to get to the bedroom, I found Maurice in a pot. To be specific, the pot where my ginger was beginning to sprout. Now, I know cats like to get into small spaces. This is one of their most well-known proclivities. However, I have never seen Maurice try to squeeze herself into a small anything and definitely never in a pot. Glen said she was still there when he came to bed which was quite a while later. When I got up the next morning, she was in our bed so I guess she eventually decided to opt for comfort, rather than...whatever she was getting out of being in that thing. 

Today was at least ten degrees cooler than it has been and the humidity was a low (for us) 41%. And so I decided to spend as much of the day in the garden as I could. And I did. 
What a pleasure it was!

I do believe this is the prettiest garden we've ever grown. And it is quite productive, too, at least so far. Mr. Moon has done most of the really hard work but I do my part as the one who weeds, picks the beans, serves up the vegetables, and does the preserving. What I mostly did today was weed and then I mulched the areas that needed it most. A garden can never have enough mulch to suit me. It really helps with the weeds and as the leaves break down, they enrich the soil. 

So I did that today and it did wear me out and I did sweat a lot, even if it was cooler, but I enjoyed it and now feel as if I have accomplished something meaningful. 
For us, at least. 

The first zinnia of the ones I planted in the garden bloomed today. 

I have a nice size strip of them running all down the south end of the garden and I think in a week that will be a glory to look at. 

Last year I had some leftover zinnia seeds and I just threw them on the dirt in the little kitchen garden and smashed them down with my feet. They bloomed and this year the volunteers have come up and they are looking good too. 

I love that color.

Here are some less vibrant ones but still sweet. I always say that zinnias are the happiest flowers and I believe that. They are happy to blossom in all of the crayon colors and they are so happy to be alive that they come back again and again and again, year after year. 

As do the phlox.

Talk about vibrant! I have these all over the yard and pretty soon that color will be showing off everywhere. 

And I think that's about it. I'm making a sort of slaw with vegetables and tofu for our supper tonight along with a sesame miso dressing. I asked Mr. Moon if he'd be okay with having tofu for supper and he said, "Sure. As long as it tastes like meat."
"Well, it's not going to taste like meat," I said. 
"What's it going to taste like?" he asked.
"Good." I said. "It's going to taste like good." 

I hope I'm not lying. 

Love...Ms. Moon

More Thoughts, More Garden Stuff

Every summer the wisteria gives us a second bloom. It is nowhere near as abundant as the spring bloom is, but it's still lovely. I think the purple is more intense.

We've been getting a little rain off and on. It doesn't amount to much but it's better than nothing. Several times the sun has come out while the rain is still coming down and that is such an odd thing, isn't it? It's a little confusing but interesting. 

I hung my laundry up this morning (I like those shadows on the sheet) and then while I was eating my lunch, a little rain decided to fall and so I rushed outside to gather it in which was probably silly because if I'd simply left it out, everything probably would have re-dried before the next little cloudburst came through, which it did just a few minutes ago. But no, I brought it all in and stuck it in the dryer for a very short time and that was all it took. And everything got a little rain water blessing and we all know that's the best kind of blessing. 

I picked more beans today and I weeded some. It was hot work. Although the rain can cool things off, it can also turn to steam so that everything you do outside feels as if you are trying to work in a sauna which is not much fun. You can literally see steam rising from the streets after a rain on a very hot day. But I will say it's probably good for the skin. 

Hawk just landed in the yard again and then flew off. I suppose we are part of his scheduled daily routine. It does bring a tiny bit of different energy to my day. They have sort of a dangerous beauty although I no longer need to worry about one snatching something I love like I did when I had chickens. But once again, the songbirds have abandoned the feeder and are perched in the trees instead because a hawk can easily swoop down and catch one up at the feeder, but it's a lot harder to do in a leafy tree. 

I was thinking I might talk a little bit about how easy it is to get obsessive about weighing and giving those numbers so much power in our lives. I feel horrible about all of the women I weighed in when I was a Weight Watchers leader. It was usually an incredibly anxious moment for most members, to step up on the scale and see what the week's efforts had produced, or alternately, what the week's indulgences had produced. And it was so frustrating and seemingly unfair when a member would be perfect with counting her points and doing her exercises and still not lose weight, or even gain a pound or so, while someone who was sure they'd gained at least a few pounds due to a party or a trip or whatever discovered they'd lost weight.

Again- that diet mentality. The fact is, is that we are not machines where intake always matches up with expectation. 
You cannot believe all of the reasons I heard at the scale when people had not lost weight or had gained. Some of these reasons were very intimate, the least of which would probably involve PMS. Weight Watcher leaders hear it all. And truthfully, the reasons are often valid. Ask any woman who is still menstruating if her jeans fit her the same every day of the month. She will tell you that no, they do not. 
But those numbers, my GOD how important they were. And we are taught from an early age that what the scale says when we step on it is not just an indication of our physical weight, but a measurement of our very ability to control our appetites, a moral indicator of our willpower and strength. And even if a Weight Watchers leader, or even a doctor, never says a shaming word, we take those numbers into ourselves as proof of our failure and lack of will power.

I can't tell you how many people dread getting on the scale at the doctor's with every fiber of their being. I, being one of them. And Dr. Zorn has never said ONE WORD about me needing to lose weight. Never once has he said, "You know, if you lost some weight, your blood pressure might not be so high." 

Doesn't matter. Step on the scale, face the reality, feel like a total shit human being. 

Not everyone. Thank god. But many. 

And it's not just doctor's offices and weight loss programs where our weight is taken. We weigh ourselves. When I was the closest I ever came to anorexia (not even knowing there was a name for it), I weighed not only daily but several times a day. It was ridiculous. Looking back, I realize how much I was judging my 25-year old self for what that scale said every time I stepped on it. 

After I left Weight Watchers and after I had finally given up trying to maintain a lower but normal healthy weight because I just couldn't deal with that constant feeling of having to monitor every bite that went into my mouth and having that constant hunger that really had nothing to do with physical hunger, I quit weighing myself. I just stopped. The only scale in this house is this one.

A good old beam scale. Ironically, I got that scale from Weight Watchers when they changed over from those scales to more modern ones that actual people in the actual world used at the time. I think I had to pay like $25 for it or something but I paid it and lugged it home and here it's been ever since. The grandchildren are fascinated by it. It clunks when you use it and makes other metallic noises. You have to slide things about to make the thing balance. It is cool. And also, it's pretty darn accurate. 

Mr. Moon uses it sometimes but I have not used it in years and years. 

The day after I took my first Zepbound injection though, I decided I might as well step on it to get a baseline and that the world would not come to an end if I weighed myself once a week. And so I did.

Today I gave myself the third dose of the medication that I am taking and I got on the scale again. I am definitely and certainly not going to be sharing those numbers with anyone. I am not even going to report what the scale says. And already I can tell that my mind is leaping right back to that diet mentality of judging what's going on with my body by what the numbers are. 

These issues are real and they are interesting and they are telling. 

Here are pictures of more pleasant things.

All of my favorite colors. 

The potatoes I dug up today. There are many, many more. 

I almost want to weep with pureness of this magnolia. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Pickle This, Baby

Today was all about pickles. Well, not all about but a lot of my day was taken up with them. First thing I had to do was drain my crock of sweet pickles in process, rinse the cucumbers, clean the crock, put the cucumbers back in the crock, boil a new brine, and pour that over the vegetables in the crock. 
Now I'm going to tell you something you probably do not want to hear. However, the truth of the matter is, when you brine cucumbers (and probably other things too), you're going to get some scum action. I'm not exactly sure what the scum is made of but it's just part of the process and you get rid of it and there you go. There will be no scum in the finished pickle process. 
But it is sort of gross to think about. 
In three more days I'll be doing that whole routine again and after that, the part where the sugar and spices come in will begin. If I sold these pickles I think I'd charge about fifty dollars a pint. 

The pickles I made today were dilly beans and that is a very time-consuming activity too. It probably took me almost three hours to make those seven pints of beans, not counting the picking, and you know what? I don't think I used enough dill seed in them. Every year I sort of use a recipe to get that basic proportions of salt and vinegar and water correct and then I add the spices in a sort of intuitive manner. Most of the recipes call for fresh dill which I do not have so I always use dill seed and I'm pretty sure that this year, I didn't add nearly enough of that. I made the mistake of looking up what the equivalent to a dill sprig was in dill seed and I believe it lied.
BAH! 

Here's another thing. Remember how, when I was pressure canning beans one of the lids buckled and I blamed the fact that I'd opened the lid too early? Well, another lid buckled on me today and I was using a completely different method of canning involving not pressure but just boiling water. 

In all my years of canning I've never had this happen until this year and the only difference I can see is that I am using a different kind of canning lid and ring. The brand, as you can see, is "Pur." I've always, always used Ball brand lids but when covid happened and everyone got all pioneery-y, canning supplies ran out and Pur stepped in to fill the void. 
This does not give me much confidence in the Pur brand. 

Oh well. I'll put that jar in the refrigerator and we'll go ahead and eat those first. At least I'll be able to see if the beans are fit to eat. 

I am sure y'all are fascinated by all of this canning blah, blah, blah. 

But that's what I did today. And after I was finished, the kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off in it but I've got everything cleaned and tidied up now and that is a very good feeling. 

I also took the trash today and did some laundry and did a few cleaning chores so it wasn't quite ALL about pickling. I picked a few cucumbers. I pick cucumbers every day. EVERY DAY and no matter how hard I try to get all of the ones that seem big enough to pick, I always go back the next day to find a few that look like this. 

Yes. I know. Go ahead and make jokes. I do. In fact I told Jessie today when we were discussing this phenomena that something must be going on in that garden to get those cucumbers excited. 
God, I'm funny. 

Jessie was here because she'd brought the boys out to stay for a little while when she had an appointment. When they walked in, Levon said, "It's been nine thousand years!" 
"Since you were here?" I asked. 
"YES!" he said. Of course they were here two days ago and therein lies that joke. I guess he's inherited my comic gene. The other day he told me that he can be the best kid in the world or the worst kid in the world or a medium kid and which kid would I like him to be?
I told him that I just wanted him to be Levon, whatever that meant. 
"That's the medium kid," he said. 

We've gotten some rain. Not a whole lot but enough to cool things off and make everything green up again. And to excite the frogs who always have to sing about it when water falls from the sky. 

I'm going to go all-out crazy tonight and cook some pork chops and sweet potatoes. I doubt I'll eat anywhere near all of that. I just had a very delicious snack of cottage cheese with mango and I would like to say right here and now that the mango is the best fruit. In my opinion, there is no fruit that can compete with the mango. Mangoes are the most popular fruit in heaven. I feel certain about this. The pineapple, if there were no mangoes, might be the best but there ARE mangos and that's that. Before I started taking Zepbound, I had hardly eaten any fruit in a very long time. Fruits like apples and grapes had taken on a new taste to me that was unpleasant and I just didn't even really care to eat any other fruit, either. I mean, the occasional banana with peanut butter on it was okay. Canned mandarin oranges in salad was quite enjoyable. And I still have no desire to eat an apple or a grape but at the moment I have mangoes, pineapple, watermelon, and blueberries in the refrigerator. And I am eating them. And I am loving them. I find this both amusing and amazing. 

Mr. Moon just brought me another magnolia blossom. 
Sigh. 
He is a wonderful sweetheart. Even if he did buy a log cabin. 

More tomorrow of the Saga of Life, Love, and Food Preservation in Lloyd. 

Yours Truly...Ms. Moon

Trying To Teach This Old Dog New Tricks

There's my yearly picture of the baby figs growing on my fig tree. So many. However, in the same vein as not counting your chickens before they are hatched, I don't count my figs until they are ripe. Between the birds and the squirrels, it's been years since I managed to pick enough to make even one jar of fig preserves. And yes, I know- we could put a net over the tree. 
Have you not realized yet how lazy we are?
Well, we aren't really lazy. We just don't seem to get it together to do things like net a fig tree. I am almost certain that if I asked Glen to do that for me, he would but he's already got way too much on his plate and you know darn well I'm not building a frame for the netting, etc. I just looked up "how to net a fig tree" and I have discovered that the easiest way to do it is to put an organza bag over each developing fig and tie a drawstring tightly around it. 
Are you fucking kidding me? 
First off, where am I going to get hundreds of organza drawstring bags and secondly, well, NO! And ladders would have to be involved. Tall ladders. I am also of the opinion that squirrels could figure out how to get those bags off the figs. Their hands are very clever. Not as clever as raccoons, and for all I know, they eat the figs too. And let's not even talk about crows. A little bit of organza isn't going to stop them if they want figs. 

Enough of that.

I got almost nothing done today that I had planned to do. I'd thought about picking beans and then making dilly beans and canning them. I did pick the beans (about another 850 gallons of them) but I didn't make any dilly beans. I had thought I might do some weeding in the garden but I did not do that either. I don't know what I did. A load of laundry? Well, yes. 

Instead of doing anything productive around here I went to Costco and Publix to pick up a few things we needed. This time I remembered to get tofu which I want to start incorporating into our meals more. Y'all- I am so at a loss as to what to buy at the grocery store and what to cook and what to eat. I have a refrigerator FULL of good choices like vegetables (many of which we are growing) and healthy sources of protein and a lot of fruit and of course all the condiments and leftovers but seeing as I don't eat as much as I was eating, we are not going through all that food very fast. Also, I need to realize that I don't have to restrict calories as much as I'm doing because eating so much less makes a huge difference in and of itself. And I am being a little too determined, I think, to eschew sugars and non-plant sources of carbs of all kinds, and I'm not eating much fat, either. This is all so easy on Zepbound for me. There's nothing wrong with not eating sweet things or fatty things or processed snacky things. In fact, it's all good! But I don't want to become obsessive about this. That's the thing about dieting- you HAVE to become obsessive about what and how much you eat to lose weight, otherwise, it's just not going to happen and all of a sudden, even though there is no need for it, I am finding myself treading a little too closely to that sort of obsessive behavior and that is wrong. The main difference now is that I don't mind not eating sugar or a lot of fat and I enjoy eating more vegetables and fruit and lower calorie sources of protein. It's easy! I don't feel deprived in the least and that is a powerful statement. 
But I do not want to have that diet consciousness of this food is bad and that food is good and this food is a bit iffy and so forth. When someone is dieting, they have a tendency to find the least calorie dense foods that they can eat enough of to feel full but that does not mean they feel satisfied. 
I am feeling satisfied. 
But I think I need to be very, very aware of getting too close to that thin line between healthy and obsessive. 

And in considering all of this, I find myself at a loss of what I should be cooking and eating. Also, I need and want to make Mr. Moon feel happy and satisfied with our meals as well. 

Tonight I have made one of his old favorites which is venison and white bean chili. It is good stuff and the beans give it plenty of fiber and the venison is a fine source of protein (as are the beans) without much fat. I am stressing out a little bit trying to figure out how to incorporate vegetables into this meal without necessarily making a salad. I don't want us to burn out on salads. I bought chopped cabbage and carrots to make coleslaw but that usually involves mayonnaise and mayonnaise is definitely one of those NO foods on diets but I do not need to think that way. 

Well, I'll figure it out. And I absolutely need to remember that losing weight slowly is much healthier than losing it fast. Healthier and far more sensible. I am not a sixteen-year old and I do not need to think like one. 
Now. Let's just try and tell that to the sixteen-year old Mary who lives inside the seventy-year old Mary. 

Sigh. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Warning: Profanity Ahead But It Was Completely Called For

This morning I was making pancakes and putting some frozen blueberries in them because SOMEBODY ate all the blueberries I'd picked from our bushes and Levon asked if he could have some of the frozen ones. I thought about it and said, "Why not?" But I told him he had to promise not to touch anything with his blueberry hands until he'd washed them. 
And he definitely did what I asked. 

Last night before the boys went to bed I broached the subject of always making pancakes for breakfast. Did I really need to? They insisted I did. But why? I moaned. "Because when we come here we have chicken and dumplings for supper and pancakes for breakfast."

When I got up this morning I suggested to Mr. Moon that he take the boys to the Waffle House instead of me making a full-on breakfast and he said he would but after a cup of coffee I changed my mind and fulfilled my MerMer role as prescribed by law. 

As I said, we'd been talking about going to the river but I suggested that Boppy get us a kiddie pool and we could set that up for the boys to swim in. I gave them a choice. We went over the pros of each plan and they decided the kiddie pool was the way to go. For one thing, if you suddenly need to go to the bathroom, at the river you have to use a porta-potty in the woods whereas here, they could just use the bathroom. I did point out though that the river had more things to look at and they could play in the sand and the water but no, they wanted a pool. 
And so at last we have a swimming pool. 

Boppy blew it up in the garage with his air thing and they carried it over to the shade between the generator and the pump house. He'd set a tarp down first and the pool was filled with good, cold, clean well water. The boys said it was freezing. I have no idea. I didn't even stick a toe in it. 

That's the only picture I took which was cropable which I had to do because it turns out that another plus for the kiddie pool is that you don't have to wear a bathing suit to swim in it. Or leap. Or jump. Or create tidal waves. 

It was all fun and games until I got bit by a yellow fly and the boys saw a few of them and being seasoned Florida boys, they know the pain and agony of yellow fly bites so out they jumped and ran to the house. Every summer I bitch about yellow flies. I hate their evil asses. Here's what they look like. 

I did not take that picture. If a yellow fly is on my own personal skin, I will not be taking time to get a picture of it. They are fast and very hard to kill because when you go to slap them, they jet forwards in flight so if you bring your hand directly down on them, as you would with a mosquito, they just take off and laugh at you and come back and get you again. They are almost preternaturally smart when it comes to landing on legs and feet rather than arms, making their immediate presence harder to see and your immediate response to destroy them harder to do. I was sitting right here on the porch the other night and one landed on my laptop screen as if to say, "HEY! We're back! Did ya' miss us?"

And then it proceeded to bite me on the leg. 
These motherfuckers can actually draw blood when they bite and like the mosquito, the females need blood to incubate their demon spawn. Unlike the mosquito, the yellow fly leaves a bite that is itchy and even painful for hours. Sometimes days. I used to react horribly to them, swelling like crazy around the bite sites and would have to take so much Benadryl that a nap was required. My reactions aren't that bad now but a bite I got this morning is still itching even though I have put Benadryl cream on it. 
And yes, scratched it until it's almost bled. 

So that's my yearly diatribe against the yellow fly. You will probably hear more about them as they seem to love being near the Wacissa and other waterways. Time to get out the DEET.

Jessie came and got her boys a few hours ago and we reported to her that they had been great. And they were! They were sweet and they did (almost) everything we asked and before they left the table they said, "May I be excused please?" 
Oh my. 
Last night they picked out two books for me to read. Old, old favorites. I swear to you, nothing in this world brings me more pleasure than than that. 
There were some moments during their visit that were so purely good I hope to never forget them. I hope they don't either but we all know how that works and that is the way it's supposed to work.

I'm not sure what I'm going to make for supper tonight and it's just about time to start that project. I am still completely astounded at how much my relationship to food and eating has changed and how suddenly that change occurred. Literally within hours of that first injection. You'd think that after all of the years I've had the same habits when it comes to food and the same constant thoughts about it, that it would be impossible within a few days or weeks for all of that to completely turn on a dime. To me, this is yet another example of how obesity and being overweight is a biological and neurological problem. How many times are people told that their eating habits need to be changed in order to lose weight?

Answer: Millions of times.
And as we all know, a habit can be powerfully hard to break. It can take months, years, sometimes a lifetime. 
And yet, here we are with this medication which just completely eliminates those habits (at least for me and for many others, too) which we were always shamed for having and not being able to change when with one dose of this peptide, that whole issue is non-existent? 
So was it just bad habits? 
I don't think so. 

So that's the story today. The feelings I have of fullness after just a small amount of food, the lack of cravings I have for food and the changes in which foods are the most appealing to me have lost a little bit of their novelty already. It's like, is this me? Why yes. It is. 

Still though, I am very aware of the changes and I doubt that will ever be different. 

I assure you though, that I will never change my opinion on yellow flies and that opinion is that they can fuck right off and go to hell. 

I would add, "Eat me, yellow flies!" but they already do and that has not worked out very well. 

Love...Ms. Moon

Sweet Boys

Guess what's going on over here? 

Here's a clue.

Can you see through the steam? It's the chicken stew-like thing I make to cook my dumplings in because we have two dumpling lovers here, spending the night. 

School's out and Mama worked an overnight last night and is working one tonight. Vergil took the guys to the beach today but then he brought them here so we can have them overnight and then tomorrow to let Jessie sleep. 

I love these precious boys so much. They needed snacks when they got here and August saw the tomatoes. He got excited. "Could I have one of those?" he asked. 
"You want a tomato?" I said. "Sliced? On a plate?"

"Yes!"

Sure! 
Levon had a banana. 

They let me read them a few books before the requisite TV marathon began. While I was reading them "The Chicken of the Family," August started sort of rubbing my head. It felt so good. Jessie had told me that he's been brushing her hair while she reads to them at night which is what she used to do for me. 
Now, if asked which is better, a foot rub or hair-brushing, I think I'd have to go with hair brushing although both are pure bliss. 

So I asked August if he'd like to brush my hair and he said that he would. He ran and got my brush and I would have sat there until Jesus returned if I could have convinced him to keep brushing. 
He did it so sweetly. 
I do not know why more men do not know that the way to a woman's heart is through her scalp. 

I did not make dill pickles today although I did start a crock of the 14-day pickles although I have no idea why. No one in this world needs a pickle that sweet. But Glen's mama used to make them and they are the secret ingredient in the Christmas chicken salad so there is that. 

This will be sitting on my kitchen counter for the next two weeks. 

Nice, huh? 
I hasten to add that it is not full. It's almost half full. I had six pounds of cucumbers which is enough but not a massive amount. Right now the cucumbers are soaking in a salt brine and in three days, I'll drain that and replace it and then that gets repeated again and then there's more steps in the process involving sugar syrup and spices. 

It's sort of like a science experiment, only one you can put up in jars and store and eat. 

I did some weeding in the garden today and I was going to come in and take a break and go back and mulch a little bit but I decided that mulching can happen on another day. It's just hot as fuck out there. I think we might take the boys to the Wacissa tomorrow. Since school's out there will be people there but not anything like the number of people this weekend, I'm sure. Especially today. The Wacissa is the Riviera of Jefferson County, Florida where everyone gathers to see and be seen (especially as applies to tattoos), cool off, and restore our souls. 

I think that's all I need to talk about today. Let's give the old Zepbound a rest except that I will say it's still very much working for me. While the men around here eat chicken and dumplings I'm going to have leftovers from last night and that sounds so very good to me. The grouper I cooked was fantastic and could hardly have been fresher. 

I am a lucky woman in so many ways. And I know it. 

Love...Ms. Moon

 

Thoughts

Today's harvest. 
I thought it important to include the magnolia blossom which grew on the big tree in my back yard. There are several blooms on it now, some low enough for me to reach. 

When I picked the beans, it was drizzling a little. We had gotten a short but very decent downpour earlier and everything seemed so much happier for it. I was definitely glad to be able to pick without feeling like I was going to melt into a puddle of sweaty grease. 
That's gross, right? Well, that's how it feels. 
And although it was not exactly cool after the rain, it was so much less hot. There is a difference. 

Mr. Moon got home last night and so was here this morning for our Sunday morning brunch which I always make. I was curious and a little worried as to how I would handle this. I go all out on Sunday mornings, making biscuits and eggs, bacon or sausage, and grits or potatoes. And I could very well have done that today, too, and just eaten less of it all. 
Option One, shall we say?

But the thought of fried eggs and grits or potatoes and bacon just did nothing for me. Not a thing. And so what I did was to cook Mr. Moon some bacon, make the biscuits, and make an omelet large enough for us to share. In the omelet I put a bunch of spinach and onions and peppers and a little chopped up Canadian bacon and a small amount of grated cheese. And eggs, of course. 
And I sliced tomatoes. 
So Glen got bacon and his biscuits and a large part of the omelet. He had butter and jam with his biscuits. He definitely did not feel deprived. I ate a lot less of the omelet, and a biscuit. I didn't put anything on it. It was delicious and the omelet was too. 
Perfect! 
Now here's the thing- I did not feel as if I was denying myself the bacon. I did not WANT the bacon. It just didn't sound appealing in the least. And you know how much I love bacon. Does this mean I won't eat a tomato and bacon sandwich at some point in the next few weeks while the tomatoes are all so ripe and juicy? 
No. It does not. I might but I might not. I can't tell you. But if I want one, I will. If I don't, I won't. 
Now I know this does not sound earthshaking but in my world, it is. Summer IS a bacon and tomato sandwich. Especially if you're growing your own. And this year, we seem to be doing pretty well with the tomatoes so far. But I feel as if I have a choice as to whether I eat one or not. Of course I always had a choice but 10 times out of 10, I would always eat at least one bacon and tomato sandwich every summer. 

I got this comment on yesterday's post:

"The drug industry’s latest lose weight range of pills are not the answer to peoples overindulgences. Good food choices and exercise is the key to good health. Of course you have to work at controlling your food choices

alcohol intake and portion sizes. Drugs are not the future for obesity. Education is as well. To say that we have no choice but to use fat drugs is sad"

Now see, before I would have taken that comment so personally even though I knew then as I know now that I have made a million good food choices and I have walked a million miles for exercise and was still never able to keep the weight I was able to lose off. 
Ever.
And suddenly, the evidence that a drug that works on the brain not to curb appetite (remember Dexatrim?), but to turn off the switch that told me that I better eat all of the wooly mammoth the hunters had brought home that I could, PLUS all the berries I'd managed to gather because tomorrow we might have no food at all. That brain mechanism is there for a purpose. The humans who could eat more than the ones who couldn't were more likely to store enough fat to live through the lean times and reproduce. 

But we don't live in those times. We have so many heavily processed foods and yes, healthy foods too, in such a vast array of choices available to us that this mechanism is not only useless, it is damaging. 

Not to mention that we don't have to walk for days, hunting down the wooly mammoth, or getting to the coast when it was time for the fish to run. Our bodies have not evolved at the same rate as our lifestyles, our world. 

Let me also say that the diet industry globally brings in money in excess of hundreds of billions of dollars a year. And I don't care how good a diet program is, how sensible or simple or doable- studies show that even the best ones can be very successful at helping people lose weight but very, very few people can manage to keep it off. 
Oprah and her guest talked about that. How when we lose the weight we want to lose, there is part of us that feels like, "Phew! Did it! Glad that's over!" and then the weight comes back because we have not addressed the real problem of which the excess weight is only a symptom. 

Also, Anonymous- I did NOT say that we have no choice but to use fat drugs. 
Far from it. There are people who can absolutely change their lifestyles and habits permanently. I am in awe of these people. I am not one of them. 

But I am also not a person who is "taking fat drugs" in the hope that I can eat whatever I want and how much I want and lose a ton of weight. 

I won't even go into the evidence that's showing up which suggests that these drugs can also reduce inflammation (which is a major contributor to many health problems), possibly stave off Alzheimers, help with heart health, emotional health, and reduce addictive behaviors in general.

I've probably talked about all of this too much but I think it is important. And of course, I am only describing how the medication has affected me and as I say, this is early, early days, both in my journey and in the studies of how these drugs are affecting the health outcomes of those who take them. Forget the fat part. The rest of it is phenomenal too. 

Here's what I ate for my supper last night. 

Salad with poke bowl ingredients, including the seared tuna. That's a miso, sesame dressing on it. 
It was one of the best, most satisfying meals of my life. 

Tonight? Fresh fish from the Gulf, salad, and rice. 

The hawk just swooped down in the backyard and picked up something off the ground and flew back to his perch on the old play set tower. The wary songbirds have deserted the feeder as they do every evening at this time now. But they continue to sing their sunset songs and chatter about their days. I hear the frogs back in the swamp chorusing their gratefulness for the rain. 
Praise music, not just on Sundays, but on every day. 

I believe I may make dill pickles tomorrow. 
We shall see. 

Love...Ms. Moon

May Love Day

We had such a swell time celebrating our May today. The Mexican restaurant in Monticello is such a festive place and we all felt festive. I sat next to May so I could hug and kiss her a lot. And I did. 
As always, the service and the food were so good. As was the conversation and company at the table. There were presents and smiles and laughter and we all sang Happy Birthday and May blew out her candles. I hope her wish comes true. 

On my way to Monticello, I passed the road I lived on with my first husband and Hank, who was almost two when May was born. I threw a kiss as I drove by, sending it to that time all those years ago when a lay midwife and her assistants, my friends, sat with me through the night while I labored until finally, at dawn, my baby was born. My darling baby May, and I gathered her to myself and knew that all of the secret and terrifying fears I'd had for the last nine months of not being able to love another baby as much as I loved Hank had been all for naught as my heart opened up another whole place which until that second I had not known it held and I was in complete and utter love again. 

And I was holding all of that in my so many times-opened heart today and it was beautiful. 

Here are the kidlings. Owen had to work and so we missed him but I think maybe Gibson liked being the oldest one there. I love how well these cousins get along, folding into each other as if they were meant to fit and I guess they were. 

Now the cake. That was a trip! I had actually used a thermometer to test the icing as it cooked instead of just doing the old hard ball test of it the way I've always done and it came out a little differently. Differently in that it was almost impossible to cut through. I had to get out my handy, very sharp pocket knife for May to use and we were all laughing and I figured that we'd all be chewing caramel until our fillings fell out but the funny thing was is that yes, it was like a caramel candy but it was not chewy at all, but soft in the mouth and absolutely delicious. The cake was moist and good. So that worked out well. We gave slices to the owner of the restaurant and to our server and they deemed it delicious. 
I was pleased. 

And then all of us but Jessie and the boys who had to move on to the THIRD party of the day they were attending, walked down the street to Wag the Dog to hunt for fun treasures. 
However. 
There's a little shop right next to Wag that sells vintage and antique things and for a very long time they had two lamps in their window that I had been intrigued by. I'd never even gone in to check the price but today I thought would be a good day to do that. So in I went. The place is packed with all sorts of interesting things, some far more interesting than others, but the vast number of items in it gives me anxiety and the ridiculously over-generous use of scented candles or something chemically smelly makes me feel ill but I found the little lamps almost immediately. I looked at the price which wasn't cheap but wasn't so much, either. I left them there and went back to Wag and shopped around there a little but then I decided that I wanted those lamps and it occurred to me that if I put those lamps in our bedroom at Mr. Moon's house by the river, that might make me want to go there a little bit more. 
So back I trotted and bought them. 

Lily was afraid that they might be a little bit offensive but I figured that the risk was worth taking. I think they are lovely. They are heavy, plaster, and I really do not know much about them. Or anything. I believe they may be mid-century but they have no markings on them. I've done a quick google search without coming up with anything definitive but in the end, my affection for them is what matters. I hope that Glen can tolerate them. 

And that was our birthday celebration for May and I loved it. Perhaps I bought the lamps as a birth day present for that 23-year old hippie girl who had her second child forty-seven years ago today in a little trailer which was old when we bought it and yet, because it had running water and a bathroom and a stove that didn't explode when it was lit, felt like luxury. 

I was curious and a little apprehensive about how the lunch at the Mexican restaurant would go for me today. I love Mexican restaurants. Who doesn't? My favorite things about them are always the beans, no doubt smashed and cooked in lard but today they just didn't seem that appealing. I had no desire to sit and eat chips, one after the other either, but had a few with the guacamole bought for the table. That was delicious but I didn't need more. I ordered some grilled shrimp and rice and steamed vegetables and the vegetables tasted far better than they had any right to. The shrimp and rice were good too but I couldn't finish it all. I brought the rest home. 
So that's how it went. 
I got a little hungry awhile ago and had...wait for it! Some cottage cheese and fresh pineapple and the sweetness of that pineapple almost knocked me out. I'm not sure what I'll eat for supper tonight but it will most definitely include leftovers. Well, it'll all be leftovers. My refrigerator is filling up way too fast these days with all of the things I DON'T eat. I have a lot to learn. 

Dear Linda Sue sent me a link to a video yesterday of an episode of The Oprah Podcast and although I didn't watch it, I listened to it. The link to that is HERE. 

Or, if you're interested, here's the video.

I learned a lot. It's not an in-depth scientific description of how these weight loss drugs work in the brain- and there are plenty of those out there- but a more basic, simplified explanation. 

Guess what? Obesity is a disease which is why these drugs work so well. They work on the biological, neurological cause instead of the symptoms which are experienced because of the disease. 
Not everyone understands this yet. Very few people are aware of it. And that includes health care providers, many of whom are sticking to the old diet-and-exercise routine advice which, after all these years, we know does not work in the long run. 
These drugs, however, seem to. Will we have to take them for the rest of our lives? At this point, it seems so. 
I don't care. I will gladly do that in order to switch off the part of my brain that demands and insists that my body needs to be fed almost every minute of the day. 
I almost feel as if I have been in a dream of a parallel universe for the past week. As I keep saying, I have a lot to learn. A lot to learn about how to live in this parallel universe. It is wonderful and it is scary, y'all. 

It is also quite interesting. 

Except to Maurice who does not care at all and who would eat treats all day if I gave them to her. (Liz- recognize that?)

Love...Ms. Moon

History And Epiphanies

Since it's clean sheets day and my picture taking has been almost nonexistent, I'll give you this picture I took a few days ago because I loved the way the light looked coming through that piece of bark cloth, and lighting up my beautiful velvet pillow. 

I've been laid-back today. Did laundry, swept a few floors, did a crossword, looked up recipes for poke bowls, got Mr. Moon on the road to the coast with a kiss and an entreatment to be safe and a command to have fun. I would also like it very much if he came home with some beautiful snapper for us to eat but one never knows when the fish will be biting. 

After he left I went to Publix and Costco to get ingredients for poke bowls. I have many of the ingredients already but I wanted to get some good tuna. I've never eaten a poke bowl in my life but suddenly, they look amazing. Here's one that's the New York Times cooking app has a recipe for. 

Of course I'm going to play around with this. For one thing, I'm going to sear my tuna rather than just marinate it. I love ceviche but I'm not there yet on trusting myself or the tuna I can get here to eat it raw. And yes, I do realize that the vinegar does "cook" it, just as lime juice cooks the seafood in ceviche but optimally, one should be certain of the freshness of seafood before it is prepared like that. Perhaps this is the type of cooking I will be getting excited to do. That would not be bad. 

I took my second dose of the Zepbound today. No worries. No pain. Easy. And now we shall see how week two goes. The realization I had today about all of this was truly an epiphany. From the age of about six or seven (yes, I remember) I have felt uncomfortable with my weight. And I was, even then, noticeably plumper than most of my classmates, my playmates. I was teased and bullied all through elementary school. I remember a well-meaning friend of my grandmother's who gave me a jump rope, intimating that if I used it regularly, I could shed some of the baby fat. I was an active child, as we all were then. We rode our bikes and walked everywhere. We played outside every day. During the summers I was fortunate enough to go to a day care place when my mother was away getting her masters degree and my grandparents were taking care of us where there was a pool and we swam and played in the pool most of the entire day. There were few empty calorie snacks available to me but as time went on and things in my household got worse, I did very much use food as a comfort, as self-medication. And I learned very early how to cook, how to bake, how to gain praise for my skills while at the same time, satisfying my need to eat. 

My stepfather, at the grooming stage of our relationship, swore that my chocolate chip cookies were the best he ever ate and so I made all I could make for him. And I ate my share. 
Like that. 
And all the while feeling shame and unhappiness about the way my body looked. The fact that I had to shop in the "Chubettes" department. If there was ever a word that was less pleasing to the mind than "Chubette," I do not want to know it. 

But that was just the beginning of it all. And as I have talked about before, I used various methods as I grew older to lose weight, to try to be thin. Those were the days of Twiggy and Jean Shrimpton who became the ideals of what a woman should look like. 

All the beautiful women musicians and models and movie stars were skinny. Being able to see all of the bones of their ribcages was de rigor. 
Meanwhile- did I HAVE a ribcage? 
And as hard as I tried, as much as I starved myself, and then later, when I got older and wiser, as much as I exercised and followed all the Weight Watcher guidelines and cooked all the Weight Watcher recipes (some were actually very good and I still use them), it was a constant and unending battle and I never felt quite good enough, thin enough which led to shame and to guilt because I just wasn't trying hard enough until finally, in my sixties, I just gave up. I could not do it any more. And things have gone from bad to so much worse.

And in the past week I have realized that all of that was a lie. It was always an issue of metabolism, of chemicals as Jessie said, of hormones and brain chemistry. IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH NOT HAVING SELF CONTROL! It had nothing to do with sloth or gluttony or any of the things I have labeled myself with my entire life. 

I don't think that anyone who hasn't gone through all of this can even begin to understand but trust me- there are hundreds of thousands of us out here who are learning the same things. 

And I do believe our minds are blown. 
Mine is. 

At least so far. 

And in a complete 180- today I baked a cake for my May who is having a birthday tomorrow. May rarely, rarely eats things like cake or pie but on her birthday, she does and I am always so honored to make her whatever she wants for the occasion. This year, she decided on a prune cake which is probably one of the best cakes in the world. A sort of caramel spice cake. 

Here it is without its icing, a sort of praline thing, which I will make tomorrow. And it is so incredibly amazing. 

Not unlike May. 

Only she is far more amazing. Of course.

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon