Two Steps Forward, One Step Back. Which is still a gain, right?

Maybe it wasn’t just the lack of lemon balm tea yesterday that moved me back a step. I woke up in a tizzy this morning and it never really went away. Even an hour of walking with my nordic sticks listening to AC/DC and Scritti Politti (I am probably the only person in the world who still plays Scritti Politti, but I LOVE them) coming home to a cup of lemon balm tea, a handful of healthy nuts and a swim in the pool – nope, STILL twitchy. Maybe it’s the full and beautiful harvest moon. The words lunacy and lunatic come from the root Latin luna – moon – so there’s that. (Working in a completely useless bit of information with a smattering of intelligence on the surface – so me!)

I decided to take it easy today and try to regroup. The anxiety and depression is on a scale of 2 as opposed to the 10 in February, but I’d like to go back to zero, please.

Interestingly enough, by going through my daily 10 Kindle book samples from the 762 on my Kindle Fire (see this post for background, too much to write again) I can see that I’ve never been at zero. I’ve bought the same type of self help book since the beginning of time, I think. Calm Your Brain, Calm Your Life, blah blah blah. Today’s list even had a Dr. Joe Dispenza book, so clearly I was seeking help from the quantum physics source field at one point.

It’s so bizarre to think that I’ve had inflammation for decades and no one ever caught it. Well, except for that really good PA in Germany in 2002 who returned stateside before we could get started fixing the problem. I can only hope that the quick fixes from my other doctors – blood pressure, thyroid pills, antidepressants, hormone medications, et al, kept it from harming me long term. We’ll see.

Looking back – as you do when you have time on your hands after retirement – I always felt like I needed to buzz with fear or anticipation inside, it seemed so normal to me. I would try murder cases and rape cases and pace the floor, working up to my opening argument. I described the feeling as PUMPING!! I’m PUMPED! OUT OF MY WAY!! And it felt GOOD. Buzzing like a bee. One of my early nicknames from my first District Attorney was Killer Bee. It suited me. Then came Dragonlady and That Bitch, as the defense attorneys called me. HAHAH! Good times.

My body didn’t know how to calm down. Or what that even really feels like. I’ve succeeded at self calming once in my life when I was meditating twice a day while also on an elimination diet – deja vu here, right? – but sort of lost the knack during COVID. During that hellish period I was PUMPING to get everything done with ZOOM, phone calls, e-mails, checking on everything. Oh, there you are, real me, you gotta get rid of that new age crap, it’s time to BUZZ. And off I flew, never to return until crash landing after retirement.

So today has been another day of sitting and contemplating – or in therapy speak PROCESSING – my past and trying to put it to bed. Overall, in spite of my rant, it’s been a good day and I can definitely say that going to California in October for a week of for Vedic Meditation is a great move. Can’t wait. OMMM.

Now on to the rest of the day, bored with the pity party. If you are as well, please accept my apologies.

Photo montages are always a good way to start. Mine are, um, a bit eclectic.

So there’s my day. Dragonfly by the pool, Alfred and Newt inspecting some home grown catmint, my Hawaiian sauerkraut that I have to remember to burp at least once a day until Friday, my meditation stones and dragon jasper pendant out and ready to get a second dose of full moon magic. (That’s the new age me roaring back for more.)

Now to the 10 Kindle samples – nine to be deleted after reading, and one to keep.

1. Leveraging the Universe: 7 Steps to Engaging Life’s Magic by Mike Dooley
2. Becoming Supernatural by Dr. Joe Dispenza
3. Hard Magic by Larry Correia
4. Playing the Matrix: A Program for Living Deliberately and Creating Consciously by Mike Dooley
5. A Great Idea At The Time: The Rise, Fall, and Curious Afterlife of the Great Books by Alex Beam
6. Treating People Well: How to Master Social Skills and Thrive in Everything You Do by Lea Berman
7. Food In The Gilded Age by Robert Dirks
8. Still Life by Louise Penny
9. The Grain Free Family Table by Carrie Vitt (HAH! Too bad I didn’t actually read this one, I might have gotten the inflammation under control seven years ago. )
10. Eating Ethically by Jonathan Crane.

I know what you’re thinking, but no, I did not go for book #6.

I’m keeping Leveraging the Universe. Because MAGIC, people! Everybody needs a little magic now and then. Please refer to the crystals soaking in moonlight above.

And now it’s time for my elimination supper. Plain chicken, rutabagas, onions, green pepper and water. I can start adding foods back in on Tuesday. After careful consideration of my options, I’ve decided to try an egg. I used to eat them. They didn’t kill me. Wish me luck. It will be the high point of my month.

Herbal Tea is my drug of choice

Another full day. Two in a row! This morning I woke up at 0400 – giving up melatonin after two years has been more of a struggle than anticipated. I took my Kindle Fire into the front room and read until my husband got up at his normal 0530. I couldn’t have any beverage or food except for water because I had a blood draw at 0900. (The functional medicine doctor tests me every two months to see if I’m improving. I know the lady at Labcorp by name.)

So I decided to get my exercise early and started walking in the dark at 0600. The moon was beautiful, large and golden with a little peach cloud around it, lighting up the road for the first part of my walk. I’ve never done my little circle before dawn, and it was a wonderful experience. My neighbors’ bedroom lights were on as people arose to ready for work. Hah! I don’t miss that very much. I could see our sweet living room from the street every time I completed a lap. The only danger was the magnolia cones that I stepped on periodically. Fortunately, no turned ankles.

I listened to a Youtube video, Next Level Soul Podcast, and the host Alex Ferrari interviewing Dr. William Davis. The title was suitably inflammatory and worrying – Doctor REVEALS TRUTH: Why EVERYTHING You’ve Been Told about THIS IS WRONG!

I hate those frigging titles. Scary stuff. Why can’t they call it Dr. Davis talks about the dangers of modified wheat and how to rebuild your microbiome. See? How much better does that sound? And they wonder why the suicide rate is up. Because titles like this all over the news, podcasts, instagram, Twitter scares us to death and makes the world seem hopeless and near the end. Thank goodness when I was a child I only had to contend with drills where I hid under my thin little wood desk with my hands over my head as practice for nuclear annihilation. Hmmm… well, I guess every generation has their own fear. But I really do wish the titles weren’t so dramatically bad news. You don’t have to watch the damn things to get depressed, just scroll through all of them. It’s overwhelming.

But I digress.

Lots of good stuff in the podcast once you got past the title. It looks like homemade yoghurt and fermented foods is the way forward for someone like me. I can already ferment – I love making sauerkraut – but yoghurt will be new. Something to look forward to, I think.

I attended my second nude drawing class. (My therapist laughed when I told him about the first one and suggested that I change what I call it, the pictures in his head were too distracting. Drawing class? Not near as catchy.) The model this time was younger and not as polished, had to break her pose when her muscles started shaking. She also held her hands in front of her breasts when she walked around and opted to keep her thong on, unlike our model last week. But a sweet young lady. Lots of tattoos, lots of vaping every break. I checked in with her half an hour before class ended to see if I could Venmo my portion in case I had to leave early. While I was standing in front of her inputting the info into Venmo on my phone, the head artist snapped a surreptitious photo. So either he was trying to get a more relaxed nude shot of the skittish model, or the juxtaposition of a curly white haired 61 year old in jeans and a purple shirt seriously conversing with a nude woman caught his fancy. Either way, can’t wait to see what he ends up with. (Clearly, this is not me in the photograph, I just snapped a quick shot so you could see the room. I think the studio is an old church. I wonder what they’d think about the nude models?)

After visiting a friend, I returned home famished. After my blood draw at 0730, I ran back to the house for ‘breakfast’. I had a handful of nuts, pumpkin seeds, coconut flakes and a carrot this morning, along with a swig of olive oil and apple cider vinegar. Don’t judge – it works. And I’ve never liked a big meal early in the day. Back when I could drink coffee – I MISS caffeine, damn you, inflammation – I’d have two cups black and leave it at that.

ANYWAY – right after I got home, I had an argument with my husband. Which hasn’t happened for a couple of weeks. Not a bad one, but a persnickety one where the last thing I said was “Don’t you DARE gaslight me!” Then I stopped. I realized that I was a little frenetic, my face was flushing, I was tensing. What the hell? I thought I was getting rid of the inflammation and the associated anxiety. I had a Perrier with my friend. Was that breaking my elimination diet? What else had I eaten? Then I remembered – I’d skipped my Lemon Balm tea because of the blood draw, and didn’t have time for a cup before leaving for Nude drawing class – or would that be drawing class with naked people? I really don’t see there’s much difference.

I poured a cup, steeped it for seven minutes and drank it down. And here I am at my keyboard, happily and calmly typing away. Good gosh, the stash I grow in my flowerbeds must be the equivalent of Xanax. Or else my over-sensitized body with its lacking proper digestive skills sucks this stuff up like an anteater. Whatever the reason, my body was jonesing for the brew. CLEARLY.

Enough about my weird day – on to the Kindle Challenge. I downloaded another ten samples probably added seven years ago, read all of them and culled. But this time I kept TWO books – one nonfiction that I think will be very helpful and a novel that I wanted to keep reading when the sample ended. Pretty sure Reese Witherspoon was in the movie based on this book, but fortunately I never saw it so don’t know the ending. But really – pretty sure it’s a happy one, and who doesn’t like a happy ending!

1. The Strange Death of Europe: Immigration, Identity, Islam
2. Generation Identity: A Declaration of War Against the 68ers
3. Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI
4. Hidden Atrocities: Japanese Germ Warfare and American Obstruction of Justice at the Tokyo Trial
5. If Only It Were True
6. The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary
7. The Colonial Post-Captain
8. The Witcher
9. The Mindful Way Through Depression
10. The Shine of Life: The Remarkable True Adventures of a Top London Lawyer

Another cheery list – NOT. Especially that first one. I couldn’t bear to even finish the sample, let alone read the entire book. Very well written though, Douglas Murray knows his stuff.

So, as you can see from the links on #5 and #9, those were the two that made the cut. Maybe I should limit myself to one non-fiction AND one fiction. Otherwise I will have quite the heavy book list for future purchases.

The premise of #9 is use of Mindfulness Cognitive Behavior Therapy (MCBT) for depression and anxiety. Everything in the preface was a bullseye for what I’ve been enduring for the last seven months, down to constant thoughts about how and when I’ll die and mourning my past screw ups. I devoured the whole sample and just ordered the book on Kindle – again, moving deck chairs on the Titanic, but I’m trying, REALLY I am. I WILL shorten my Kindle list. I WILL. But maybe today is not the best day.

Because – If Only It Were True will be a GREAT read for my magnesium bath tonight. Oh, wait, just checked the page and now it’s called Just Like Heaven and has a picture of Reese Witherspoon on the cover. Well. As long as the plot and words haven’t changed, I’ll try not to let it steal my joy.

I had another great idea for my new Kindle list – checking my local library! Wow, what a concept, whodathunkit. Especially now that they have Overdrive, Libby and an audible book check out and download. Hmm. I could LISTEN to the book while I’m soaking. Eyes closed is much more relaxing for my savage soul. Maybe I should have another cup of tea.

From Famine to Feast

Well, I’ve gone from being bored out of my little brain to being too busy to exercise – for the first time in over a year. Things are picking up! That said, I will do my best to work in a 45 minute walk after dinner. But my normal walking time of 0715 – slept right through it and then had to get to therapy at 10.

The retirement therapy is winding down. I spent most of the time today talking about art class, cooking, my trip to Pasadena next month and contacting a friend from my Army days and starting to make amends for our disagreement. As my therapist said – all things that are happening NOW, I’m not talking about traumas from the past or fear of the future. Let’s hope it continues. I’ll miss talking to him, he’s a nice man!

I sold a painting today. Holy moly! Someone saw my painting on Facebook and asked if I’d sell it. YES!! Umm, I hope that didn’t come out too eager. My father was disappointed that I didn’t ask for MORE, he loved the painting, but I’m not an artist in my head yet, just an amateur. Change that to rank amateur. So I quoted a price, and the buyer said ‘Too low’ and raised it to in between my price and Dad’s. (Selling to a friend is difficult and easy at the same time.) I am going to paint the same subject a second time while I still have the paints out, and see if I can better the first one. My friend gets to pick the version she likes best. As you can see, Nyx the Queen is a bit put out that I’m spending so much time at the easel. When I lounge in boredom, she claims the warm lap spot for the afternoon. That hasn’t happened for the last month or so.

I have had a great time reading a blog by a British expat in Hungary. She and her husband have started the Mediterranean diet and she posts the recipes they try each day with a brief review. (This is in addition to her great travel photos and stories about life in a village in rural Hungary. Check her out here – makinghungaryhome.

She’s inspiring me – or my competitive side is coming out. (Probably my competitive side, but who cares? We are cooking up a storm.) Here’s what I made today – Hawaiian Sauerkraut. Smells divine! I just have to remember to take the top off every day to let some of the fermentation air out. When I whacked my microbiome and brain, I apparently lost a lot of good gut bacteria and overpopulated the bad. I’m all about the fermenting, kefir and kombucha – a spoonful a day will hopefully keep the expensive functional medicine doctor away after my contract ends this year.

And finally, my ten Kindle book samples for the day. I downloaded and read each of them, some in total, some I knew were not for me in the first few pages – and deleted nine of them. Can you guess which one made the cut today? (Oh, and let’s not talk about the six NEW samples I downloaded this morning. AGH! It’s a compulsion. But I’m still a little ahead. I think.)

1. The Rise and Fall of American Growth: The U.S. Standard f Living since the Civil War
2. Still Breathin’: The Wisdom and Teachings of a Perfectly Flawed Man
3. Fractals of God: A Psychologists’ Near-Death Experience and Journey into the Mystical
4. A Leap in the Dark: The Struggle to Create The American Republic
5. The Quartet: Orchestrating the Second American Revolution, 1783-1789
6. Bright Line Eating: The Science of Living Happy, Thin and Free
7. Just 2 Seconds: Using Time and Space to Defeat Assassins and Other Adversaries
8. Day the Universe Chaged
9. Lonely Planet Munich, Bavaria and the Black Forest
10. I Know Best: How Moral Narcissism is Destroying Our Republic, If It Hasn’t Already.

Hmm. Not a particularly cheery list this time. I think that I was about to fly to Germany for three weeks of vacation so picked some good, albeit not easy reading, books to force myself to read something educational rather than entertaining. I always try this – it rarely works. When I was an active duty Army officer, before the days of Kindle, I took one thick paperback book to the field with me every time. I thought, surely I will be so bored in my tent and I’ll only have this book so I’ll HAVE to read it. Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. Umm, no. I got about twenty pages in, then decided I’d rather talk to the cooks in the mess hall, or drivers in the motor pool, ANYTHING but that book.

Years later, I still haven’t read the ‘masterpiece’ but I have read his short stories. Tolstoy is much more interesting and readable in small chunks.

Good gosh, #8, Day the Universe Changed – what the HELL was I thinking? I like cozy mysteries and self improvement books. Just reading the preface made my eyes glaze.. I’m sure it’s a great book – I downloaded it because of a recommendation somewhere, probably the WSJ – but take a gander,

“This book examines some of the moments of change, in order to show how the changes of view also generated major institutions or ways of thought which have since survived to become basic elements of modern life.

Each chapter begins at the point where the view is about to shift: in the eleventh century before the extraordinary discoveries by the Spanish Crusaders; in the Florentine economic boom of the fourteenth century before a new way of painting took Columbus to America. . . ”

Ambitious much? Yeah that book was never going to happen. How funny that working me thought I’d plow through it at some point. Retirement me no longer needs to be able to drop in impressive tidbits at dinner parties or meetings. (Good GOSH, I must have been a boring ninny.)

I’m keeping the sample for Bright Line Eating. Based on my recent DNA tests, I think I will be eating like a Sicilian peasant for the foreseeable future, so anything that can help me with getting my brain in front of sugar cravings is all to the good. Plus, it’s pretty entertaining.

Another day, another Kindle dump.

Kindle Roulette

I am not a hoarder in most respects. Sure, I have a lot of books and collected German saint paintings for a period of time, but compared to 99% of Americans, I am not an accumulator of stuff. Except in my Kindle. I have 732 SAMPLES of books that I’ve accumulated over the last seven years. Books are even worse – 1941. My husband is right, I’m an addict.

I don’t want to clean out the books, that’s a little too huge of a project at this point of my retirement. I”m tackling the samples, ten a day is the goal. To help me curate the worthwhile ones, I’ve created my 9th Amazon wish list (Amazon has to be one of the circles of hell for me, I keep looping back no matter how hard I try to escape) and will add the keepers there and delete from the Kindle. Sheesh, it’s like moving the deck chairs on the Titanic. But if I can whittle 700 deck chairs down to 70 or so, all to the good.

I started at the bottom of the list and downloaded the samples. It’s sort of fun, like a little snapshot into past interests and whimsies. Please don’t think less of me. 😉

1. The Magic Mirror: Divination Through the Ancient Art of Scrying
2. The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life
3. Lenin’s Tomb: The Last Days of the Soviet Empire
4. Scrying for Beginners: Tapping into the Supersensory Powers of Your Subconscious
5. A Little Book of Pendulum Magic
6. Hitler: Ascent 1889-1939
7. Hitler: 1889-1936 Hubris
8. The Dirt on Clean: An Unsanitized History
9. Confessions – (A novel at last! Translated from French, author Jaume Cabre)
10. The Empty Front Porch: Soul Sittin’ to Design Your Porch to Porch Plan

Clearly, this was my Reiki New Age period. I vaguely remember reading about ancient oracles, the Sibylls, and that they looked into dark mirrors for answers to questions. And who isn’t fascinated by Nostradamus? I love that stuff.

But the daily Synchronicity from the Universe was book number 10. I remember downloading it after attending my college reunion, one of my classmates wrote it and I was interested to see what her first book was about. She was a ton of fun, very moral and ethical but accepting of others and I never heard her say a negative or gossipy word about anyone else at our all girls college. From the hills of Virginia, I remember that she loved to clog. We’d sit up with four or five other girls until 3 a.m. and talk about religion, if we believed in God, and other puzzles of the universe. As you do.

Turns out, reading the sample, that the book is about moving from porch ( here an now) to Porch (heaven and God.) She says “This book is intended as a guide gift for your journey. I have shared stories of my personal life, both joyful and challenging, to help you reflect on your story, to jog you into remembering you life’s vignettes, and to encourage you to see the filaments that weave your journey together, bridging the Heavenly and earthly front porches. Each chapter gives you space to rest, think and design the next phase with Him, tips to help you pursue new options, behaviors, and strategies, and prayers to help you connect porch to Porch. “

It’s religious, and just like my friend, nonjudgmental and sweet. She posits great questions at the end of each chapter to help you return to your true self. Here are a few to give you a taste:

1. What are the sounds, smells, stories, and memories that evoke your ties to the earthly front porch?
2. Who was present for you then – a teacher, friend’s parent, grandparents, siblings, parents, pastor, sports coach, bus driver, or a Sunday school teacher? Who were your shepherds?
3. What do you miss from your childhood that you could replicate to keep those experiences, impressions, and groundings alive?

Her final question, #9, for the first chapter: What memories reinforce your connection to the Heavenly Front Porch as a child? Even if you think you have always been disconnected, go deeper and think about walks in the woods, bicycle rides, playing on your own, reading a story at night, sitting on the beach, or feeling sad or lonely. When were there whispers from the Heavenly Front Porch even if you didn’t have the language to express it?

So yes, this one makes the short list on Amazon. What a perfect book to go along with all of the memories I’m working through with my therapist. So much of retirement so far is looking backwards, recognizing past experiences good and bad, and then pulling them with you if they are helpful, jettisoning them after full examination if they are destructive. Quite the brain cramp.

I didn’t keep in touch with many of my college friends at my first college – I transferred after my sophomore year to a large state university. In her introduction, my friend dedicates her book to two of our classmates who died in car accidents their senior year. I had no idea, How strange to think that I’ve lived the last forty years and they’ve been gone all of that time, taken by car accidents at 21. How lucky I am to have had all of this time, even on the days that I bitch and moan and can’t find one good thing for which to be thankful. I am THANKFUL for my life, the good, the bad and the ugly.

I’ll be interested to see if the Universe has another on point book for me tomorrow!

Melatonin, Good or Bad?

I decided to try to see if my body could produce melatonin on its’ own now that I’m feeling better. But MAN, that first night last night was rough. I think I got about 3.5 hours sleep total. So today I’ve been a bit tired, but overall a productive day!

I walked two miles with my neighbor, who takes speed walking to a new level. Then came back in to have my usual cup of lemon balm tea to calm my nerves. Spent some time working the New York Times Wordle, Spelling Bee and Connections, then impulsively decided to make my lunch and let it start to simmer before taking a shower. So I started chopping vegetables at 1015. Fast forward to 1315, and I’m finally cleaning up.

I had to use up the huge seven pound butternut squash, so I put two pounds in this chickpea butternut squash soup, and cut up the rest and froze in 1 pound bags for soup a little later in the fall. Or Herbst, as Duolingo taught me this week. Take a look at the photo, that thing is huge! Changed the soup a little since I’m not vegan – used 12 cups of my homemade chicken bone broth and added a pound of ground turkey. This elimination diet has really challenged me to eat lots of vegetables and find new ways of cooking them that doesn’t involve cheese or dairy. After finishing the soup, I cleaned and roasted the butternut squash seeds. I will be eating soup for DAYS, but it’s nice to have something ready to eat, since I still have to cook a separate meal for my husband. His chicken quesadillas with homemade salsa, cheese, and cilantro sounds so much better. But if the elimination diet knocks out the cortisol and anxiety, I’ll stick with it.

And other news – I attended my first nude drawing class! I haven’t drawn in years, probably since freshman year of high school. My artistic outlet is oil painting and I just dive right in with color on my brush. This was different and a little scary, so I’m pleased I persevered.

I was the only new artist in the class. The model was great – Charlotte, teaches at the local yoga studio and also teaches breathwork. The other four sketching next to me were all seasoned artists, some making a living at it. Wow, intimidating. But FUN!

Charlotte did three 10 minute poses, took a break, then a 30 minute pose, then a 45 minute pose. I will spare you the tiny doodles I drew while working up to feeling comfortable enough to draw in long lines. Here are the drawings from the last two poses. I think it’s hilarious that I finish the model, then instead of improving her I start sketching in the rest of the room to fill the whole page. The others all stuck to the figure and their end product reminded me of Leonardo Da Vinci or Albrecht Duerer. Mine? Yeah, just very me. Very amateur me. I have a lot of room for improvement! I take that as a positive.

Another week of retirement gone. It’s starting to get easier.

Five straight days of reduced anxiety

Normality has returned, almost. Five days of worry free living, just enjoying the moment, completing little jobs, and looking forward to Autumn – Herbst, in the language of my heart. Almost time for soup, stew, apples and parsnips. Such fun!

I visited my parents from Sunday until Thursday. They live in the North Georgia mountains, and it’s almost prime leaf time up there! I am weird, I like the lull just before the colors when the last of summer’s farm bounty is laid out at the stalls of Osage and Jaemor roadside markets. I racked up and will be cooking all week.

I brought home two huge, beautiful green cabbages with the intent to make my first Fall crock of sauerkraut. I was a little ambitious with that idea – the weather is wonderfully cool in North Georgia, with lows in the high 50s and highs low 70s, but here in South Georgia, it’s still mid 80s during the day. A bit too warm for cabbage fermenting unless you like it moldy.

I also scored cowhorn peppers, heirloom greasy beans, heirloom tomatoes, Silver Queen corn, Mississippi sweet potatoes, eggplants, red potatoes, turnips, rutabagas, beets, cantaloupe, tiny pumpkins and a huge 5 pound butternut squash. To round it out, I bought some apple cider donuts and hot pickled okra for my neighbors.

I’ve already eaten all the greasy beans. I had to research to learn more about them, and lo and behold, one of the heirloom varieties is called Tommy Boyd Greasy Beans. Tommy Boyd is an old family name, my grandfather, father and brother all bear it. Talk about Synchronicity,

Made some eggplant rounds for my parents – neither of them like eggplant all that much – and we ate every bite. Best eggplant I’ve ever had. I’d like to take cooking credit, but more likely the fresh and natural produce had more to do with my results.

I have never eaten beets, other than a slice on my hamburger when we lived in New Zealand. My paternal grandmother loved them, so I thought I’d give it a go. I made this recipe from my Bavarian cookbook and they were DELICIOUS! I had to check a German youtube video to confirm that the huge unpeeled beets sit in a steamer basket over the water for an hour, then I let them cool and the outside peeled right off. Make sure you wear an old apron. The pink is beautiful, but potent.

I gave some to my neighbor from Michigan – anytime I cook German, she reaps the benefits – and ate the rest myself. It took me five days, but beets are SO GOOD for you. I felt happily self righteous for days after finishing the entire container. Bonus – all of the food is allowed on this crazily restrictive elimination diet.

Tomorrow, the pickling starts. I hope I have enough bottles. Yes, I am pretty sure I was a European peasant in another life, dining on dunkelbrot, kaese (note to me, check keyboard tips on how to put the umlaut over the a next time) und milch with some vegetables pulled from my little gated garden. My heart will always belong to Germany, but my genes belong to Scotland. This tweet is eerily accurate. 😉

True, that.

Deja vu and the First Day of Kindergarten

Yesterday I had my first drawing class with a local group, held at the studio of one of our well known artists. I’ve painted in oils for over ten years, but never used charcoal and newsprint paper. And I’ve never sketched from life with a nude model. Lots of firsts today!

I bought all of my supplies three weeks ago and have been reluctant to touch them because I HATE not being as good as I am in my head. So I didn’t practice, figuring there was no way I would be past extreme amateur in three weeks. Plus, it sort of felt like cleaning the house before the cleaning lady comes. You want to avoid total embarrassment, but you also know it’s completely unnecessary and stupid. (And I’ve been working really hard not to need outside approval as much as I clearly have for the last sixty years of life. Apparently, performance anxiety, overthinking, overpreparation and hypervigilance is not good for the body. Who knew?)

So I psyched myself up, had a cup of lemon balm tea, worked my puzzles, took a shower and got dressed, then drove to the studio, arriving ten minutes early. It felt like the first day of school, with the associated hope and dread. All the way there, I gave myself a nice bit of encouragement. “You are going to have a good time, you are not going to stress about the art, you are going to be curious, you are going to meet people, you are going to keep going every Friday and gradually you will learn. That’s how it’s supposed to work. It’s OKAY not to be the best.”

I parked behind a Corvette and gathered my materials. When I opened my door, an older man walked to meet me. He said he’d gone up to the door to read the note – the artist and the model were both sick, class was cancelled. Well, Drat. But also YAY! So conflicted.

We talked for a while, he’s 80 and the former head of the drafting department on our local military post. And he kindly told me that a lot of people don’t even sketch that much for the three hours, just walk around, watch what others are doing and talk. Very casual. No worries. You’ll be fine. Then he jumped into the Corvette (!) and drove away with a wave out of the sunroof.

Whew! But here I am, all dressed up and no place to go. So I headed over to the travel agency, in a cute little Victorian house two blocks away, and bought my tickets for Pasadena. I’m California bound for my Vedic Meditation class, staying with my sister for the week. That took about half an hour.

While I waited for the travel agent to check the options, I texted some friends to see if anyone could meet me for coffee on short notice. No takers. Fortunately, I like to people watch and when you’re sixty you can blend. Maybe even disappear! My goal is to stay occupied until noon, since that’s when the class would end.

I spent a little extra time chatting with the travel agent. Turns out the travel agent knows my sister and parents, her husband is the brother of one of my mother’s best friends. I love this about Southern towns, but my husband would pretend to play the banjo and sing the song from Deliverance, or make some comment about inbreeding. Note to self, do not take Husband to travel agency. Or studio.

As I walked to my car to drive to the coffee house in the Historic District, I passed this sign in front of a well kept little cottage. Perfect. I won’t. The beautiful dog obviously wanted to make sure I got the message.

After a cup of chamomile tea, I took out my smaller sketchpad and tried to quickly charcoal in the customers and tables. I got some of the perspective right, but otherwise, yes, as bad as I’d feared. I kept it, I’ll compare it after four or five classes. So, the worst is hopefully behind me.

I watched the customers around me. The high ceilings and multiple little chandeliers reminded me of the coffee houses in Vienna, although our locals dress much more casually. Lots of leggings and baseball hats in this town, tee shirts with your favorite football team on the front.

About two thirds of the crowd were on laptops or looking at cell phones. Too bad no one carries a book anymore, talking about reading material was always a great ice breaker. ( I brought a book with me on retirement the last time I came here, and the barista and I had a great conversation about art, working for money or doing what you love, and the best time to retire. She was envious that I’d been able to retire at 60 and I envied her for just starting out and getting to decide what comes next. Sort of hard to do that with a Kindle.)

I got a little bored and anxious after about half an hour on my own, and my brain started looking for something to worry about. I sat very still and tried one of my grounding exercises. Five things you see, four things you feel, three things you hear, two things you smell, one thing you taste. It works every time.

Behind me was a family here for a military graduation, all of then laughing and looking with love at the tall PV2 seated in the center of the group. Outside I could see two college students drinking beer. Oh, those were great days, being able to sit for a while and drink a beer in the sun. Enjoy it, I told them silently, ENJOY every minute of it.

Once the clock hit 12 noon, I drove home and cooked for two hours. I made a huge pot of Indian lamb stew – lots of vegetables, Indian chili powder, poblanos, and coconut milk. I love to chop vegetables, it calms me. I could chop for hours. Very cathartic. And then I chopped steak for my husband’s dinner request – Asian Beef and broccoli.

(My functional doctor’s latest gambit is putting me on a quasi elimination diet – I can have nightshades, thank goodness! – to see if that helps with the inflammation, adrenaline and cortisol. Hmm. We’ll see. I don’t really mind giving up beef, shellfish, pork, sugar, bread, cereal, dairy, etc. for a while, but cooking two meals a day is getting old. Well, except for the chopping. Double chopping is good for the nerves.)

Why am I describing this day, which sounds fairly nondescript and normal? Because I was spontaneous and went without a schedule, something I haven’t done for a long time. Six months ago, I would have driven home from the aborted class and remained on the sofa until dinner time thinking my ruminating and catastrophizing thoughts, or mourning not having enough to do, why did I quit my lovely, busy job? Wah! Woe is me. (Talk about rose colored glasses, those last six months working felt like ten horrible years.)

So this is progress, and little victories will be celebrated until big victories arrive. I am excited that I finally have things to think about in the present. My therapist says that if I can balance my past, present and future, I’ll feel much better. I think he’s right. Worth every penny, that man.

BONUS for reading this far: I have to share my little monk. He makes my mornings so much better. I love the entire routine, but especially embracing myself and smiling at my ancestors at the end. Bouncing up and down and shaking my hands to relax and fling off anxiety is also fun. Enjoy!

Retirement Project #2, Break the Painter’s Block

My last year at work, I thought longingly every day of getting back to my easel. I’ve always loved art, but I didn’t feel like the artistic kid in my family. Who says there can only be one artist, anyway? But it feels like that. My sibling was the really talented one, I was the writer, according to the grown ups. And I loved to read, and write, so that was okay. And truthfully, it seemed easier to write than to paint. Less to criticize. HAH. And there’s the crux of it.

When I was 50, my husband gave me art lessons with a local artist. A GOOD artist, who also taught at a local private school, so she knew how to handle my nerves and lack of confidence. Not that I had any once I started – it was like I was in a dream state, I loved everything about it, the mixing of colors, the standing back to see the effect of the brush swipe, the constant work between mind and eye without the ruminating brain thoughts. I could paint for two hours and it felt like five minutes.

I started to paint my own compositions without help from my teacher. I got better and better. I started to call myself an artist. Then, like so many other things in my life – sorry for the depressing pattern – the art ran into the COVID wall. Once I was working from home, and fearful of so many things, my creativity shriveled. And I couldn’t seem to jump start it, even with Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, one of my all time favorite books.

I half heartedly finished an alley scene I’d started, from a photo taken above the streets of Randersacker, Germany on our last European vacation BC. Painful. Every stroke seemed wrong. Nothing was fun. So I laid down my brushes and closed up the easel for a while.

Two weeks ago, while walking around my neighborhood, the sun hit a tree with the most beautiful light. I took a picture. And started a new painting. And maybe that time away from the easel wasn’t a bad thing, because I’m painting more what I feel instead of what I see.

Tah Dah! The painting at the top is my newest, finished yesterday. It’s different from my other work; I am having to get used to holding a brush and striking boldly again. But I started and I finished and I like it. More to follow, I’ve already gotten inspired for my next effort. Looks like I’ll need to buy more paints and canvasses.

Retirement #1 Project DONE!

When I retired, I’d been overweight for over twenty years. Sure, like most people I could take a little off, look a little better, then hit a crisis point and swim in Haagen Daz and fast food until I bounced right back to that same horrible place. Sadly, after a while, you don’t even notice. It’s just you in the mirror, you get used to it. And my sweet husband never beat me up about it, he knows my brittle ego well.

The week before I retired, I factored in how much I’d be paid for accrued vacation time. That block payment at the end was designated for me! I found a great personal trainer in Pasadena – the other side of the country, but Zoom makes everything possible these days, right? – and hired him for a whack of cash.

I started with his diet and exercise program and lost thirty pounds in three months. I looked BETTER, but still not at the desired weight. So I kept going without him. I lost another forty pounds. Note to anyone out there – if you are an overcompetitive person like me, be VERY, VERY careful with going it alone. I went a bit too far, whacked out my thyroid and came very close to being malnourished. My body was too thin and bony, my hair wiry and then I got either a REALLY bad cold and sinus infection or a medium case of COVID. Apparently, when you don’t eat enough and lose too much weight, you are more susceptible to illness. Who knew?

Because I’d just retired, when I described my anxiety, depression and boniness to my normal medical doctor and his PA, they just kept trying to give me antidepressants. (I’m not sure I really like this new medical practice of letting you keep your clothes on. It would have been nice if they’d CHECKED my bony sternum and ribs instead of prattling on about loose skin. Loose skin was the least of my problems.) I finally found an osteopath who realized I’d affected my thyroid. I will leave it at that, except to say I am feeling MUCH better and hopeful that the additonal expensive functional medicine doctor will be able to get my microbiome back into shape. It’s scary how out of whack you can be when everyone keeps telling you how fabulous you look and asking how you lost the weight. Umm, the HARD way, for sure.

Figuring that the anxiety wasn’t all due to weight loss, I started therapy as well. Fortunately, my therapist also has a background in helping people with eating disorders, and can help me with the anxiety AND the body dysmorphia. I don’t miss being overweight, but I don’t recognize myself in the mirror.

The last time I was this weight I was 35 and on active duty with the Army. I have MOURNED those lost years and no one warned me about that part of it. Sure, you should be happy when you lose weight, but you also say to yourself, you stupid woman, you wasted 20 years! You could have hiked, biked, travelled. walked around naked in front of your husband, blah, blah, blah. The usual ruminating of my ever critical brain.

And then the kicker – you don’t look like you did at 35, which is, of course, what I subconsciously expected (Say what you will, a lot of extra weight has a certain timeless quality. You look like you’re 45 when you’re 35 and you look like you’re 45 when you’re 55.) Instead, for months I would get up and think who are YOU and why do you look so much older? Thin me has brown hair and firmer thighs. What the heck?

You also mourn other things. A LOT of other things. I never really bought into that book The Body Knows the Score, but maybe there’s something to it. I think about traumatic or troubling things that happened in my past, and it feels like losing the weight somehow uncovered stuff that was buried or brought it to the surface for me to re-examine. It’s been interesting. Well, really, weird would be more accurate.

It’s wearing off, but it took about six months. I still look at food sometimes and panic. It’s hard to eat 1700 calories a day now. My friend who had her stomach stapled said they had therapy DURING to help deal with the changes. Yeah, wish I’d known that a bit earlier in the process.

Anyway, thanks for reading this far. I’ve gained some weight back and look better for it. Sorry to whinge a bit, as the Brits say. Overall, I think it’s a healthy change. First picture is on the day I retired, second picture is me headed to the pool in my itsy bitsy polka dot bathing suit. Hence the sunblock. Oh, geez, now that I look at them side by side, DEFINITELY a healthy change. Hah!

• 

• 

Hopping off the Bullet Train

Interesting week. Once you start opening up to people about what you’re really thinking and feeling – even the bad stuff – they reciprocate. And often have the same thoughts and emotions. So much for thinking I’m the small town girl living in my lonely world.

So – I set out alone this weekend to visit friends from Germany that I hadn’t seen in person since 2002. We were all in the Army or working for the Army during one of the best periods of my life. But I lost touch with them when they moved, sort of standard stuff for those of us attached to the military life. Everything changes every three years, and people move on.

When I lost my mind in February, I panicked over all of these lost friends. We’d had such good times, travelling, drinking, telling tales, feeling invincible. Where did they go? How did I lose them? Why didn’t I realize I’d want them again one day? So I found many of them. And these two invited me to drive six hours and spend Labor Day weekend at their mountain house. Actually, they asked my husband as well, but he’s not going ANYWHERE unless he’s sure he is welcome, especially with the deep divide over COVID and politics. Fortunately, I am more of a risk taker in that area and I can get along with pretty much anyone.

I called another old friend while on the road to get in a quick visit. We ended up talking for over an hour. She was driving to Florida, I was headed in the opposite direction, but mentally we were in the exact same place. I took a deep breath and jumped in. “Do you think about death all the time? Or is it just me?”

This was especially tricky since she’d lost a brother and a daughter in the last 18 months. But we’re good friends and I didn’t want to tiptoe. Surprisingly, she said YES, I have thought of death so much more often once I turned 60. I think about whether I’ll die of a heart attack, or a stroke or cancer, will it be painful, will it be quick. Crazy stuff.

We laughed about it for a while, then I jumped again. “Why do you think our brains are doing this NOW? Okay, here’s my theory. It’s like we’re on a train, and when we started out, you could hop off any platform with an open door and head an entirely new direction. And now we’re running out of doors and it feels like we’re on a bullet train with no stops left, so we’re thinking about the BIG stop.”

She liked the bullet train analogy. We talked about getting older, even though 60 shouldn’t feel this old. We both feel thirty and twenty five in our heads, and she opened up some about her losses. She emphatically stated that she was NOT going to be one of those people whose friends said ‘remember when she was fun, before all of this happened?’ Exactly. We talked a little longer, then she had to take another call and I started with my podcast list.

When I arrived at their mountain house, I had a great reunion with my friends. My husband will definitely be coming with me next time. On the first night, after a few glasses of wine, the same topic came up with the same outcome. Yes, my friend from Germany had also started to think more about death and what this part of life means. We laughed about worrying when you get a pain in the middle of the night at 60 – heart attack? blood clot? should I wake someone? – as opposed to when you’re thirty and just got up and took a damn aspirin and went back to sleep.

I’ve been thinking about these two conversations a lot these past few days. It’s reassuring that I’m not the only one going through this little existential phase. I guess everyone hits it and it takes longer for some of us to figure it out.

As I was finishing this morning’s long walk with my Nordic walking sticks – Aside, GREAT for your arms and upper body if you’re looking for another way to work out – a song started to play, The Chemical Workers Song by Colm R. McGuinness. I wasn’t a chemical worker, but parts of the song are pretty universal.

[Chorus]
And it’s go, boys, go
They’ll time your every breath
And every day you’re in this place
You’re two days nearer death
But you go…

[Verse 3]
There’s overtime and bonus opportunities galore
The young men like their money and they all come back for more
But soon you’re knocking on and you look older than you should
For every bob made on the job, you pay with flesh and blood

[Chorus]
And it’s go, boys, go
They’ll time your every breath
And every day you’re in this place
You’re two days nearer death
But you go…

When you’re already anxious about running out of time, this little ditty at least drives home the point that I’m two days closer to death whether I’m running myself ragged at the office or completing an oil painting on my easel at home. I guess I should count my blessings, instead of letting this ruminating brain try to switch to the negative track. All. Fricking. Day. Ugh, it’s tough to rein it in.

My therapist made me laugh. He said he’d rather ride Thomas the Tank Engine than the bullet train. Agreed! Much friendlier, you can wave and see people wave back, feel the breeze through the open windows and you go slowly enough to take in the view and the rolling vibration. The bullet train is for workers, busy looking at cell phones, computer screens, reading a book rather than looking out the window at the almost dizzying view as they speed along to the station.

Maybe being on the slower train will give me time to find some more off ramps and doors, a new station or two. Hmm. We’ll see. But I still need an attitude adjustment. Maybe vedic meditation class? That might be an interesting place to start.