The title sounds a little dramatic. What s’more, it might be marshmallow dramatic. But it’s what came to my mind and I’ll stick with it for now. (If at this point you think I’ve totally gone crackers, click this link: s’mores.)
I read an article somewhere lately. I’m not sure where the article was or even where I was at the time, but the gist of it was that people with type O positive blood seem to attract female mosquitoes when they’re searching for a victim. The insult to injury is the mosquito needs the blood to help her produce eggs (which basically means more mosquito bites for me). I ran out of time at that point and my response was, “Oh, mos quit.” Or, mos quit o. Or not. I have O+ blood. I get mosquito bites when other people think there are no mosquitoes around. Those people notice when I leave the area, though, because the female mosquitoes are paying attention to their biological clock as it ticks and they are less picky about blood type when I’m not around.
The type O blood is a bigger problem than that, though. I have been trying to assist some folks with ordering invitations and printed napkins. Type O is coming through there, too. The invitation typo was easily set straight. The font was easy to copy and the missing letter was an I at the end of a word. For no extra charge (other than a little sweat and almost tears), I was able to add the missing “i” so they wouldn’t look like minion or pirate invitations. And the hosts’ last name was spelled correctly.
The second typo might not be as easy to clean up, even though they are napkins. An errant comma gives pause where it doesn’t belong. After 60 years, they who hesitate too much might not get there. Or they might like a little nap on the way. But it looks a little strange and I may end up ordering more (e’en). It’s not worth it to distract people who know about commas from the main event.
I will cut this post a bit short because I’m on my way out the door to help someone else with some projects in her yard. The forecast is calling for sweat. But as long as I don’t focus on the last three letters between meals, I should be okay.
The tears go along with a decoupage project I’m struggling with. The last decoupage project I did was probably forty-eight years ago (give or take a few minutia). I haven’t cried over this project (yet), but I have torn the paper enough to have to rethink how I’m going to achieve success. I may have to rename the project and try a different technique. I have a habit of doing crafts the same way I cook. (If you’ve read my book, you might remember the Tarragon Chicken recipe I was using turned into Marjoram Pork when I discovered I didn’t have the key ingredients as I was attempting to prepare the meal.)
I’ll leave the rest of the story for when I finish it. I’m sorry for any typos that may be in this post.
Sometimes this blog feels like the same old, same old. And with a birthday a few days ago, it might seem like same older. But I see this place as new. New opportunities. New beginnings. Or new continuings.
I’ve proven that renewing my Awareness, Acceptance and Adapting, related to my sugar addiction, keeps my MAPS up to date. Motivated And Positively Sugarfree. It keeps me going in the right direction. Continue reading “Re: New”
I had a lovely day today. Fifty five years of age doesn’t seem as old as it used to.
I made banana chick flips (pancakes made with garbanzo beans) for breakfast and someone cleaned up the kitchen after me.
I had pan seared sea scallops for lunch at a restaurant. I like to order things that I’m less likely to cook at home. The restaurant was no sugar added friendly (the waitress knew what was safe and offered alternatives).
Supper was grilled chicken and chopped salad prepared by my hubby. I made the cake and ice cream.
I didn’t take a picture of the ice cream, but I’ll tell you how I made it.
1 can coconut milk, 6 frozen bananas, 1 tsp vanilla extract, 1/2 tsp salt, 1/4cup peanut butter, 1/4 cup cocoa powder. Food processor pulsed until smooth. I put it in a container and then in the freezer. I stirred it after an hour. I stirred it again just before serving. It’s dairy and gluten free. And there’s no added sugar. It’s not diet food. But it worked nicely for a birthday party. The “cake” was good, too.
There was much more to my day than food. And it was all good.
I’m rather amused by the word addiction when it’s not messing with my mind with its sweet talk. I think I’m more amused since I was in the market for some ads to increase traffic at my website. I’m not great at Ad diction. Fortunately, my niece is.
For some reason, I’ve noticed a pattern of falling out of control with my eating after getting home from vacation. Many people fall apart during vacation, they justify it as justavacation and that’s that. Back from Continue reading “Writing my Way through Addiction.”
I went to Maine today. It was a last chance to visit my son and his family before they move farther away than a day trip. I left Connecticut before 6am and it dawned on me a little while later that I was driving to Vacationland (Maine’s nickname) on Friday of an extra long weekend (Independence Day) I was early enough to avoid traffic on the way there. I did encounter some slowdowns on the way home, but nothing like the jam on the northbound side of I-95 as I headed out of Maine and through New Hampshire and into Massachusetts. The outside temperature was in the high eighties and I think it’s safe to say that it was a hot jam.
I was tired on the way home. I stopped at a grocery store and bought some cherries and apricots and roast beef (for the protein) and had a planned snack that lasted a long time and involved more food than I probably needed. I stayed awake and alert though.
About an hour away from home, I felt like stopping for more food. I was aware that I wasn’t hungry and it was more of an emotional or addictional response. In my state (Connecticut and mental), I could feel myself planning where I could stop and what I would buy. Yes, it was me looking for a hit. And then, just as I approached the exit, I got a phone call. Saved by the bell. Really. I needed that intervention and it worked.
I think I can take that experience and use it to bolster me tomorrow when the addiction tries to sweet talk me into something I really don’t want, or need.
What I really want is control and feeling good. Just like I wanted 5 and a half years ago when I started on my I’m Possible Journey. I don’t want a traffic jam in my head. I need to remember that actually I can.
Speaking of traffic, I was looking at the map of countries represented in my readership and saw that my blog has had traffic from 50 countries. I thought that was pretty exciting.
On the information super highway, people all over the world have stopped by to read my blog. Perhaps for some it has been a little rest stop. And maybe for others, it has been a motivational pick up. Others might have viewed my stream of consciousness as a traffic jam of words. Perhaps someone has come by feeling jammed and left feeling a little less stuck up. Or something.
Hopefully, I’ve helped someone smile along the way. And along the way, some folks have left comments that give me a boost and make me smile.
Thanks for reading! Good night!
As in the jam jammed, for one.
I went to my exercise class this morning. My new studio shoes are working quite well. I had noticed a bit of knee and hip pain creeping in, but new shoes seem to have taken care of that. Continue reading “Things are starting to gel.”
I had a request from my Wyoming daughter. She either wanted me to make hot pepper jam or tell her how to. Continue reading “In a Jam.”