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Almost forty years ago, in my first 30 minutes in the US, while taking the bus from the airport to the hotel, I met the most overweight person I have ever seen in my life.
Tag: <span>Weight</span>
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Do you remember how you imagined your life as a child or teenager? Have our expectations been fulfilled? Are we living a supposedly good life?
Am I living a good Life? Or is your life better than mine?
It was the month after Christmas and all through the house
nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste,
at the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
I got a new app on my phone, a WATER-DRINK-REMINDER, which has as the name states, the sole purpose to remind me to drink more water throughout the day, because I have the tendency to forget the world around me when I work. Including coffee and tea, my Drinking Goal is 128 Oz of water a day =1 Gallon. I have a physical job and sweating during the summer months seems to be a part of my day. Also, I work out and exercise.
My neighbor just signed up for Weight Watchers and she is excited the same way she always is when she finds help on her never-ending weight loss journey. “I was a chubby child, an overweight adult and now I am an overweight older Grandma,” she says and then she tells me about her heavy bones, and how she was doomed to be overweight her whole life. “It’s genetic!”
Like life isn’t complicated enough already, now we are on a diet, that’s what HE said. It’s my own fault. I left the scale in the living room and he stepped on it. It would have been smarter if I would have schlepped the heavy roll of fabric up the stairs to the bathroom, but no, I had to get the scale downstairs -to make my life easier- and by doing so I set up a chain reaction.
Update – After numerous tests and an assortment of x-rays, we have a verdict, so it seems. My husband has a broken rib. While it can occur with heavy coughing, it more likely happened at his workplace, when he stopped a free rolling, heavy cart with his chest, that somebody had left unattended.
Like so many of us, I love to plan meals, and I love to cook. Spoiling my husband and friends is part of who I am. Cooking is my way out after a long workday; I leave my frustrations on the cutting board when I chop off heads of carrots and other willing victims.
It all started out with an old soup dish that I found at a resale shop, it reminded me of the soup bowls we used when I was a child. They were so much smaller than the ones I have in my kitchen cabinet now. Come to think of it, everything was smaller back then and so were we.
People who diet then splurge bitterly complain what they lose they regain. Why that should be is no great mystery and least a defeat for the urge to diet is…