WE DID IT

We started our "Losing it--if not the weight, then our minds" blog. No one will want to read it because it will be boring, but it's to help keep us accountable.

Tonight I got that strange pain in my armpit again. I was scared out of my mind for and thought, I didn't change my diet quick enough and I'm going to die--again! Not that I actually died the first time but I thought I was going to. But the pain went away after about five minutes so maybe, just maybe I'm not too late.

Pam will be there, daily, hourly, if I need her--she's that kind of a girl--to encourage me, to keep me on track. It's good to have a cohort in this business of changing my life for the better.

I met Pam when I was assigned to be her visiting teacher. I went alone the first month because my partner was a young mother and couldn't get away. I was glad because I got to meet Pam alone and we both knew we would be friends. (For those who are Mormon you are probably wondering why I didn't already know Pam, if I was in her ward. That is because 24 years earlier they had split our ward and then, wonder of wonder, they put us back together. Anyway, Pam wasn't in the original ward, she had moved in just a few years earlier so I didn't know her from before. Is this confusing enough?)

So, blog number four. Not that "Walking in Starlight" ever gets written on and not that the Cookbook gets written on much.

So, what things are new with you?

IT'S A MYSTERY

Today, Phil was sound asleep in the chair when the doorbell rang. Kramer, of course exploded with barks. The doorbell and Kramer's barking woke Phil with a start. When he got to the door there was a pretty, blond woman holding flowers. For me! She said she loved my blog. Can you imagine that? Phil thinks he knows who it was but wasn't sure because of his "barked-awakness-stupor." I've got to do some investigation so I can tell her thanks. Until then, it's a mystery.

What woman doesn't want flowers? They are so beautiful! Thanks to my anonymous flower giver. All of a sudden there is an ax in my living room. Why? It's a mystery. I asked Phil and he just looked mysterious.

Why is the potpourri on the piano? It's a mystery. Oh, yes, I remember now. Kramer scatters it all over the place. Why he does this is a mystery.

Why is my fingernail stuff all around the computer monitor? It's a mystery. I think it's my attempt to multi-task.

Why is it that it takes all day to eat one grapefruit and only a few minutes to eat a piece of cake--Costco chocolate cake? It's a mystery.

And why are my Christmas dishes still out in February? It's a mystery. The word procrastination comes to mind but I'm claiming mysteriousness instead. Who doesn't want to be mysterious?

ARE YOU READY FOR THANKSGIVING? AND WHAT TIME DO YOU HAVE TO GET UP?

May your stuffing be tasty,
Your turkey be plump,
Your 'taters and gravy
Have never a lump.

May your yams be delicious,
Your pies take the prize,
And your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off of your thighs! *

The turkey is in the fridge. This year I am cooking a fresh one, usually I buy the frozen ones and cook them frozen. I know, strange. You don't have to get up early, you put it in the oven the night before on a lower temperature and by the time the rest of the dinner is ready it's done. Only problem is it's done w-a-y before all the charts I've seen. This year I am trying a new method. I'll let you know how it turns out. I have to get up at 4:00 AM. Yawn. Me. The night owl. And I won't dare go back to bed for fear I'll forget something.

Most of the family will be here, fork in hand, hopefully under my feet, saying, "I better taste that to make sure it's okay." Sounds nutty but I love it. I love them underfoot, snitching bits of stuffing or wandering by with a plate full of teeny-beenie-weenies, clam dip and chips, artichoke dip w/ French baguettes, sliced thin, etc. I simply love them underfoot. There is nothing like family.

And there is nothing like Thanksgiving. I think it may be my favorite holiday.

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all in the USA. And to my Canadian friends, I'm over a month late with the Thanksgiving wishes. How truly plebeian of me. (That doesn't exactly make sense but I've always wanted to use the word "plebeian" in a blog.) Forgive me. And for my Canadian friends and all else, may this day be stuffed full of possibilities of the wondrous and fun kind, for you and those you love.

*This poem came in an email from my funny friend, Terri. Terri does not blog even though she is a nurse and has a plethora of funny stories to relate. Even though she has a gaggle of kids who have a gaggle of kids and those grandkids do and say funny things. Terri should take pity on Lynne who is often bored. Terri should blog.

SIX WORDS FOR DIATRIBE

Blessyourheart thinks I'm a terrible blogger.

THE DIATRIBE BLOG

Someone, I'm calling her Blessherheart, was here the other day and said, "I looked at your blog and it was this long diatribe." And then Blessherheart pulled a face, not a horrible face, just kind of a "I hate your blog--it's stupid," face and then Blessherheart said, "Have you read so-and-so's blog? It's really cute. Did you see her costumes? How she does all she does I'll never know. Blah, blah, blah, everyone but you has a charming blog." Okay, maybe she didn't actually say anything from the "Blah's" but I heard it, just the same. And then Blessyourheart changed the subject and I let it go. And, by the way, I had read so-and-so's blog and I agreed. So-and-so is Mrs. Amazing. She really is.

Synonyms for diatribe: tirade, harangue.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, Blessherheart. It really warms my little heart. Or maybe it "worms" my little heart. I can't decide which.

So that's tonight's post. No diatribe.

SHE CAN'T WHAT? LOOSE FIVE POUNDS? GOOD GRIEF.

I wandered onto a blog today and you know what? The poor prefect woman who had the perfect life and a couple of perfect children and was married to the perfect man with sparkling teeth was whining because she couldn't loose five pounds.

But then I noticed her blog had all the paragraphs running together. Huge blocks of text depress me and she had already depressed me with her perfect life, except for that pesky five pounds, that is.

Another woman's blog I wandered into was feeling sorry for herself because she had a child that wasn't in school so she could have free time. There are a million women who would love to have a child. Period. I was always sorry when my kids went back to school.

Then I ran across this quote:

"Some luck lies in not getting what you thought you wanted but getting what you have, which once you have got it you may be smart enough to see is what you would have wanted had you known." ~Garrison Keillor

And I decided to be happy that I am me and she is she and never the twain shall meet. Or some such nonsense. And I'm going to bed now, actually before midnight.

One last thought:

"Bad is never good until worse happens." ~Danish Proverb

Which reminds me of the punchline to that old "it could be worse" joke: "It could be me." And we are glad it's not, aren't we?