Author: pamela

I think I must have reverse anorexia. By this, I mean, I think when I look in the mirror I see less than what I see. I also seem less than what I am. And, by this, I mean: when I walk by a space, or see the size of a chair, I think I am small enough to fit through it or sit on it. And then I see photographs. And then I say: omygoodness, is that the size I am? Most viewings become one of those: “O-wow” moments.

So… continuing on the umpteenth and one diet — which I so name bcz it’s the diet I repeat, stop, repeat, stop, repeat, stop… until I’m sick to death of saying or thinking I really ought to go on a diet lose weight.

I had to make a dramatic assault and just “fast” a bit. It’s sort of the: “desperate times call for desperate measures” sort of dieting or eating (or not eating) pursuit. It’s the sort of resolve that comes along once in a very great while — the resolve to walk right on by the cookies and not eat a broken one. I mean, who are we kidding when we break off a piece of a cookie and think we’re going to just have that much? It’s the kind of resolve that made me pass the plate of pecan bars right on by last night. Had it been a “normal” day, I’d have taken one — well, you know: they were made by my neighbor and she did bring them over specially for us and she is seven months pregnant and she doesn’t bake that often and we were having Bible study and it was a nice evening and the squares were small and… and… and. And I passed them on by.

Many women battle weight. Or, really we think we do. But the reality is we don’t battle weight it’s that we don’t battle self. Self is the ugly glutton that only wants what self wants and doesn’t care what lies it has to tell or to what lengths it has to go to accommodate self. So, yes, we don’t have a weight or weightloss problem anymore than we have a speeding problem. We have a problem with eating too much, too often. And about speeding, that’s self just wanting to do what self wants to do no matter what the law says. But I’m thinking that the glutton self is harder to tame than the speeding self. There’s no policeman to curb the glutton or slap a ticket into the hand of the overeater and require the obese one to appear in court and be judged by a jury of peers. No… but self does play a very naughty trick. Self says: go ahead… you deserve it, you’re not so fat, you’ll lose weight, you’re not as bad as so-n-so, you’ve been “good” today (whatever that means!), yada yada yada. You da woman! And then… you give in and eat. Then self mercilessly mocks you and says you’re such a loser, such a poser, what kind of woman are you, anyway… such an incompetent bimbo — can’t you learn to control yourself?

Wellp, it’s been a great day.  We had the loveliest drive to Canada.  Yes… it’s a drive –but always worth it.  The autumn leaves were spectacular (probably not as they would be in the New England states, but incredibly beautiful nonetheless).  With each turn of the road, it was like we were continually entering a new and better showcase at an art exhibit of priceless masterpieces.

Those who know Wes know that he always carries his camera to capture the changing seasons and priceless pics wherever he goes.  I know, I know… lots of people around here think he got that first digital camera so that he could snap thousands of images of the little dolly when she was born.   And while that’s true… another truth is, he really can’t pass up the masterpieces the LORD creates each day.  When morning gilds the skies…  for the beauty of the earth… and so on and so on.  Wes takes pictures of beautiful countrysides, sunsets, storm clouds, babies sleeping, flowers blooming, winter trees, spring trees, summer trees and autumn trees… and children in tire swings and little ones with chocolate-chip cookie faces and jelly smiles.  I attempt to write or describe what I see because I’m not so good at taking pictures.

So we drove along admiring the incredible colours.  Wes bought me a top of the line food processor in Canada.  Well, first he had to buy me a canal and a post… but then he bought me that top of the line food processor.  I had to wait a couple of hours to try it out –my mouth was too numb and I didn’t want to embarrass Wes at the “food-court” by drooling as I tried out the new food processor.  In a couple of weeks he will take me back to Canada (yes, for more photo ops) to get a custom made top-of-the-line cover for my food processor.  It’s going to match my other appliances perfectly (so I’m told!) and I would even notice a difference (again, so I’m told).

People wonder why we go to Canada for  (okay, okay… I’ll try and act smart here) dental work.  Simple.  We found a doc we really like and he charges less than docs around here and does excellent work (we think).  I get a full day’s date with Wes and Wes gets lots of photo ops.  Anyway, I had had the root canal done already and so a post put in today to support the build up and crown for my tooth (or what was a partial tooth).  Since I really do need a new food processor (as in machine/appliance) and this is as close as I am going to get to one at this point, I decided to call the new tooth a food processor.  I mean, it really is, after all.  I was a bit concerned that Wes would need to see a cardiologist when the nice receptionist handed him the food processor bill.  He gently asked if the appliance cover next week would be additional, and she replied, “O, yes… what she has now is temporary — you can take care of the completed crown payment at your next visit.”
He never frets over stuff.  I guess that’s why I can tease about comments or thoughts he might have. A couple of hours later he was still stopping for one more tree… and I was stopping for ibuprophen and a grandemocha… whip? yes, please from S’bucks.

We were both happy with our treats.

I can hardly write today as I am giddy with excitement over an appointment I have tomorrow morning.  I am considering all the delightful things that are equal in value… a used car… a Bosch mixer and *all* the attachments.  A computerized sewing machine… well a low end machine, anyway. A digital camera and a vacation spot to take pics. A new wardrobe (*not* from a thrift store, eBay or Craig’sList).  A new keyboard for Kathryn.  A new computer for her as well as a printer, paper, and a maid (to replace the one we have ~wink~) for a month.  O, the list is endless –the possibilities are endless.  I was thinking of all the jewels that could be fitted into a crown.  But then… the crown I am getting won’t have space for jewels.  Hmmm, too bad.

A crown is like buying a new transmission for a car.  Or repairing the septic system for the house.  It’s the best thing you can do with that amount of money when you need to solve a transportation or storage (?) problem… but you just can’t show everyone the delightful new purchase.  You also cannot invite everyone to look in your mouth as you show off your new Bosch mixer + attachments, computerized sewing machine, digital camera,  wardrobe … crown (with no jewels).  When I think of a crown I’d like to wear, the one I’m getting doesn’t immediately thrill and excite me.  It’s no where near the style I was hoping to wear.

So, the next time we visit… I may want to show you my neat new acquisition.  But I won’t.  I really would suggest, however, brushing and flossing and whatever else you can think of adding to the list of practices that prevent wearing crowns you can’t or won’t show off.

I guess I can delight in my community service or our sort of philanthropic ventures.  You see, I just marvel over the sacrifices made for the betterment and enrichment of many dentist’s families. I suppose that in my self-sacrificing denial of new mixers, sewing machines, cameras, vacations and/or a myriad of other delights, my husband’s been instrumental in the provision of all those things and more for a whole lot of wives.  Mygoodness, I will think of my husband in a whole new light from this day forward!  As if I don’t already totally admire his sacrificial living and giving nature, I see a new dimension I hadn’t recognized heretofore.  I will practically skip into that office and cling to that chair in the morning at the prospect of the marvelous privilege we have to better the lives of the family members of that dentist.  O, the prospect is so inspiring, and the blessings innumerable, I wish I could go there this moment!  I wonder what he would say if I announced my arrival:  I’ve come here today  to bless you.   (If you can say that and sound like Nancy Campbell… bonus!)