I remember having my nose likened to a ski slope. It’s a childhood memory prior to learning how to ski. I think my nose really looks more like a ski jump, except it doesn’t turn up quite as much. As I skied this past week at Stowe and Bolton Valley, Vermont, I thought about ski slopes and ski trails. I wondered if a trail with seven switchbacks could be called a deviated septum. Well, I didn’t wonder that much about it.
What I was thinking about was the difference between man made snow and weather made snow. One section of Bolton Valley has no man made snow on it. We had the privilege of a few inches of snowfall while we were there and that section of the mountain was open. It’s quiet snow (where there isn’t ice over rocks). I like skiing there.
The man made snow is icy and not quiet. It’s good skiing if that’s all there is. But there’s a bit of harshness to it.
We stayed at a hotel near Stowe on Sunday night. The facial tissues sounded like man made snow when I pulled them out of the box. When we moved to the hotel at Bolton Valley, we brought in our box of Kirkland tissues. I actually thought they were a name brand known for softness, but they were from Costco. Soft and quiet. Like real snow. Without the cold.
In a pinch, either will do. But I like the softness best.
Happy New Year! May you not need facial tissues for your nose.
I posted the previous post without a lot of editing. I think it shows. But I also know that I did it for me. For control. Creative writing instead of creative eating.
While we were skiing in Vermont, there were a few times when the scent of fresh waffles wafted across our path. It’s what hits you in the nose at the top of the Gondola at Stowe, and it’s at the base of the main ski lift at Bolton Valley. The smell is amazingly good. But I happen to remember the time I actually ate a ski hill waffle. It was okay. But not amazingly good. I’m thankful for that memory of that okay taste. I can imagine the crunchy deliciousness of an amazingly good waffle, but I’d rather not eat just an okay one that doesn’t match up to the smell. Well, I’d rather not have the aftertaste (and effects) of eating any kind of waffle because it wakes up my sugar addiction and knocks my impulse controls for a fruit loop. But it’s easier when I know that the taste doesn’t match the smell.
I made three pies on Saturday in preparation for New Year’s Dinner. One of the pies was peanuts with chocolate. Think pecan pie but with peanuts and chocolate. I had a couple of people sample it because I didn’t know what it tasted like. It worked well for me. I had described it to my tasters as a peanut chocolate pie which made one of them think it would be like a peanut butter cup. The review was a bit disappointed. But when I served it to my guests the next day with a different description, I had rave reviews. One nephew told me it was like a snickers bar. Is that kind of like the last laugh? I was satisfied with the making and baking of the pie. Smell and sight but not a bite. That’s my new motto for sugar, I think.
In other news, I responded to a twitter post about a doctor who had no patience with a patient who was obese. I said that I had stopped being a patient of a doctor who was obese. That generated some feedback about me holding what the doctor looked like as more important than the qualifications from medical school and practicing medicine.
My reaction to the obese doctor was when I was just back to a healthy weight after being obese, myself. I was also continuing to learn about living with sugar addiction (something I continue to do). I was in a fragile state–breaking away from the land of steady habits (sugar addiction) but still living in Connecticut, which is also known as the constitution state. I needed a strong constitution to stay in control of sugar and I had proven, many time, that I wasn’t quite there. It wasn’t a reflection of the doctor’s skills in practicing medicine, but it was a reflection of my tenuous hold on controlling my sugar addiction.
My retiring doctor had highly recommended his replacement doctor, but I didn’t feel comfortable being her patient. I was afraid that my sugar addiction would react to her obesity in a way that would make me feel like it was okay for me to go back to where I was with sugar controlling my foods and moods. It’s not easily explained, especially when my motivation for controlling my sugar addiction wasn’t weight loss. But something about her seeming lack of concern or interest in my struggle didn’t work for my needs.
Perhaps if I’d been more patient with her, she would have been a good doctor for me. But I won’t know that. What I do know is that I’ve continued to learn how to manage my sugar addiction. Most of the time I’m fine. And some of the time I struggle. I don’t always know when that’s going to be and how it’s going to go. But I do know how to be fine again. It’s what I know and how to say no. The nose has it.