Mmm, breakfast . . .

. . . or a chapter for my new cookbook.

Okay, maybe every other day I'll write something. Sometimes there just isn't anything to write about. . .

But today, I had me a yummy breakfast.
First, on Wednesday I made a batch of my famous oatmeal sunflower bread, which I shared with my massage therapist (she's working on my shoulder and she gave me a nice discount). I used powdered buttermilk and a little too much water, but it rose beautifully and came out nice and tender. It makes the most delicious toast.

So there was that toast and one piece of bacon from a local humane supplier--nice and smoky.
And some cantaloupe and a cup of tea, and a single egg fried in my secret weapon--a garlic-herb-butter-olive oil blend. I keep a bowl of it on hand for whatever.

I use fresh herbs now because I have them in the yard (I hesitate to call it a garden because I haven't done any work out there besides some mowing this year). Chives, sage, oregano, basil and thyme (I wish I still had some parsley) chopped up fine with a couple tablespoons of soft butter, a couple of mashed garlic cloves, salt, pepper and at least as much olive oil as butter, usually a bit more, mixed up smooth, covered with plastic and kept in the fridge until I need it.

It goes on shrimp or veggies on the grill, slices of bread that go on the panini grill as an accompaniment to a dinner salad or pasketti, and of course in the frying pan for eggs. Check it out--I use half as much butter and get this amazing flavor. You really ought to try it. Let me know if you do.

Now in Summer Mode

So, June went where?! I was . . . on vacation, yeah, no, wait, I was on assignment. Top secret, can't talk about it. Stuff and junk, you know.

Anyway, now that it is officially summer, what with the solstice out of the way and the local school kids finally out of school (their last day was June 24), I will be on an amazing new and improved schedule with time to bake bread and ride my bike and write, write, write. In fact, it looks as if I have fallen bass ackwards into a summer job with the local paper. They're short on writers and I'm short on meaningful employment--it couldn't have worked out better.

As for weight loss, I am currently experiencing watergate pains, as we used to call it back in the '70s when such things were in the news and what did we kids know? So progress has come to a stand still, but not for long.
But what about the bread, you ask? Well, I'm not on the Atkin's diet and if I'm making the bread from scratch, I'm burning a lot of calories just to have a slice. Not to mention the fact that I know what's in it 'cause I put it there . . .

Thanks to SuperJonMasteroftheUniverse (r) (c) (tm) for reminding me about the smoothness of the elephant . . .

I owe me a quarter.

I was so busy doing nothing yesterday, I forgot to post a blog. And today, I was so tired from yesterday, I almost forgot again.

That (see above) is a lame excuse. I hate lame excuses. In my studio, I charge students 25 cents for lame excuses. I think I have about $2.50 in cash another dollar's worth of I.O.U.s and a few free lame excuse tokens (I give them out on birthdays and holidays). It seems to work on the cutting down on lame excuses. I mean, my studio floor is littered with tongue tips. [eww, gross]
But it doesn't get to the heart of the matter, which is, forget the lame excuses, just do what you're supposed to do.

So today, I didn't eat candy in the studio, have seconds at dinner or go for dessert. I ate orange sections and carrots ( three students didn't show up--it makes me crazy and want to eat). For dessert I had a hot cup of chocolate mint rooibos tea. It's my new magic potion. Had some with dinner last night to make myself slow down, and darn if it didn't work!
I also think it's helping my blood pressure.

Now about that lame excuse for not exercising . . .
cha ching

Zero to Hard Core in 7 Days

Yeah, that's right. I'm back on the bike and I'm feelin' no pain! I rode to town today to look at a possible new studio space with a possible new office mate. The minute I hit the road it started to rain. Did I turn back? Heck, no! I'm hard core now!! And it was hot (or so they think in the great frozen north). It may have gotten up around the low 90's in town, but it stayed in the 80's here in the woods. I got to my studio and the landlord was there watering the new grass (very reluctantly--he doesn't usually water and pays dearly for water and sewer). He mentioned that I looked a little red in the face, was the heat bothering me? Well, I rode my bike, I said. From where? he asked. From the little town where I live, I said. His jaw dropped. He didn't know I was a cyclist. Everyone knows my husband rides, but me??? Heck, yeah! I'm hard core now!! I was before and I am again.

I've got a few motivations. First, I do want to look good in that dragonfly jersey. And second, I just mailed a check to a campground in Maine that we have planned to hit up as part of an anniversary bike tour. Cafiend said it's located at the midpoint of a century he had ridden several years earlier. We will be aiming for it on a Sunday and heading back on a Tuesday. So I have to be able to cover at least 50 miles in one day if I'm going to enjoy that trip at all.

So watch out for me. I'm hard core now. I have sun screen and I'm not afraid to use it.

I'll do it for the dragonflies.

Summer is in full swing, no matter how difficult it is to admit to myself. Coming out of the winter we had, experiencing this warmth and flowers and green and bugs seems unreal. It's like when I crashed my bike--I saw it coming, went down (hard), saw stars, felt pain and ultimately realized nothing was broken and I didn't die. I could get back on my bike and make it to my destination. The snow didn't take until July to melt, things have started to grow and it has become warm.

It.
Is.
Summer.

So for the first time since I crashed my bike, I took it for a ride. Three weeks ago (when I crashed), I was wearing long sleeves and long pants (lucky for me or the road rash would have been much worse). Today it was, as they say around here, "wicked hot." So I wore a lovely bike jersey my husband picked out for me. It's a little snug, but it has a bright colorful dragonfly design, reminiscent of stained glass. (dragonflies, as you know if you were there, were a feature of our outdoor wedding). What the heck, I thought, I'll flaunt my lumpy figure in this colorful jersey, I'll be bent over my bike anyway.

I rode my bike and it was good. The route was pretty. It was a group ride and I chose the short route because I didn't know how my shoulder would fare. I ended up all alone so I tacked on a couple extra miles to make it worthwhile. I didn't poop out or fall off. It was nice to be back on the bike.
And so I have determined that I will wear my dragonfly jersey and I will get back into shape so that I look totally spiffy in it.
Watch me.

The week in review 6/1 - 6/7

The score so far:
Try to slow down.
Missed one day of posting.
Had pizza but no ice cream.
Drank tea instead of snacking.
Ate gummy bears.

weight loss this week: 1 pound (but you can't trust my scale since I dropped an iron on it)

So not a stellar week, but I'm working on it. I'm ready to get back on my bike. If I can find a way to keep myself busy, I won't be plagued by feeling hungry. The slowing down part is reeeeally hard. If I don't think about it, I eat as fast as ever. Note to self--no hurry, slow down.
Maybe I lied a little about being scintillating today. I'm just impressed that I can spell the word.

Oh, yeah, every day.

I'm gonna post every day.
uh huh.
So, I ate a bag of gummy bears today because I was pissed. What ever.

I now drink tea before lunch and while I fix dinner. That's good, right?

It must be the rain. I bought a new pair of prescription sunglasses. As soon as they arrived, it started to rain. I haven't had a chance to shade my eyes from the sun because there has been no sun to speak of.

This summer we will all rust.

That should do it. I'll be more scintillating tomorrow.

Maybe if somebody would pay me . . .

I need to find a summer job. Or not. I just can't bring myself to pound the pavement like a high school kid asking for the generic job application at every shop and eatery in this town and the next. There are things I just won't do anymore. I won't wait on people. I spend up to six hours a day working one on one with students who only marginally (if I'm lucky) get what I'm trying to sell them, I'll be damned if I'll take a major pay cut (like one third of what I charge for lessons) to smile and be nice to cranky customers who never will. I won't slice meat in a grocery store deli. That was last summer and it sucked!! Won't wait tables, won't run a cash register, even though I'm very good at both. I want to work in a kitchen where I don't have to talk to strangers and I can blow my cool if I feel like it. Hell, Chef Ramsey has built an empire on that.
Or I might accept a job cleaning up rental properties for seasonal renters. I hear it pays very well and I have an inside connection. I should practice on my own house, but no one is paying me to do it.

The job prospects in the little town where I teach are so glum, I spent the free time I had when a student canceled today 'putting away' the spare granola bars. At least they were small ones. And now they're gone. AND I have replaced the dish of candy that I leave out for the kids to treat themselves to after their lessons with carrots and grapes. One kid had the nerve to complain that I didn't have oranges today!! Baby steps . . .

Maybe someone would be interested in paying me to lose weight. $10 a pound. Per sponsor. Like one of those thing-a-thons, where you sign people up to kick in for every whatever you do by whenever. So kick in a certain amount per pound I lose by August 30 and I'll get to work. When it reaches an amount I can live on for the summer I'll actually publish my weight each week! Any takers?

Tea for me

I stopped drinking coffee--it started giving me the jitters. Every now and then, I'll have a cup, much to the dismay of my husband (who often goes by the screen name "cafiend"). The problem there is that he sets up the coffee maker the night before for the amount of coffee he'll need the next day. And he needs coffee. Do not talk to him or look at him funny in the morning until he has taken his caffeine internally. When I spontaneously announce that I'd like a cup of coffee, it means less for him. But sweetheart that he is (and he is), he always manages to spare a small cup for me (it's all I can tolerate anyway). Sometimes it just smells so good . . .

I now drink tea in the morning. A step back as far as calorie consumption, since I drank coffee black and I simply must have sugar in my tea. At a recent social engagement, we were introduced to some interesting teas. Our hostess, a tea consultant, offered us a selection of teas that she had for after dinner. Being caffeine-phobic, especially in the evening, I tried the red tea (rooibos, from Africa) while the rest of the party had an Earl Grey. I was totally smitten with the rooibos--it tasted like tea and wasn't caffeinated. And the guys seemed quite happy with the Earl. Sooo . . .
I tracked down her tea source and ordered samples of every flavor of rooibos they carried along with the Earl Grey and another tea she offered that sounded interesting (but at some point, you have to make a choice). It comes loose, so I also ordered a basket infuser--it sits on top of the mug while the tea brews--totally cool. When my order arrived, it included some free samples I hadn't ordered (how cool is that?).

Today, I had a cup of (free) flavored white tea (peach) instead of eating when I was hungry. I sat down with my tea and started to write (this). The next thing I knew, it was time to go and I had put off lunch until 2 p.m. Woo hoo!! I'm going to brew it again (package says you can) while I fix dinner. Man, I'm starved!!

Let's drink tea!!!!!!

Pizza is a gateway drug.

Off to a good start if the goal here is to post every day.[NOT]

Yesterday was my studio recital at the music school. We had to schedule it for 6 p.m. and I wanted a rehearsal before hand, so everyone pitched in (sorta) and we bought two 24 inch pizzas from the family owned pizza place in the neighborhood. The guy taking my order warned me that they were very large pizzas and would feed 10 - 12 people. I told him that four of my students were teenage boys. No problem, then.

I was busy rehearsing with a late-comer while the others tore into the pies. I did manage to score one piece for myself (with broccoli and mushroom) as well as a small piece of pepperoni to taste. Mmmmmm, goood pepperoni!!!!

At the end of the recital (which took less than 40 minutes to perform) I announced that there wasn't much in the way of a reception, but we did have some cold pizza in the back. I got to pay for the pizza, have one piece of pizza and clean up after everyone was gone. There was nothing left but two of the biggest pizza boxes I'd ever seen, and, reminiscent of the poor dad in A Christmas Story, "the heavenly aroma still hung in the air."

As I headed out on the long drive home, completely wrung out, thirsty and hungry, I could not shake the desire for ice cream. Soft serve ice cream. A big, swirly cone of frozen custard, chocolate and vanilla duo. I wanted some so badly. I blame the pizza. In hindsight, it may have been the pepperoni, but I still blame pizza. One piece is rarely enough. When you smell it, you want it. And then you want something else bad for you. Ice cream, for some reason, seems the perfect companion to pizza. Well, the apre-pizza companion. You need beer to go with the pizza (soda if you're under age). Beer (or soda) wants chips and/or pretzels. Ice cream likes sprinkles, or fudge sauce, whipped cream and a cherry. It's a slippery slope to go out (or call in) for pizza.

In the end, I settled for a lemonade coolatta from Dunkies. It was right there where I stopped for gas. It was frozen, I was thirsty and I stopped thinking about ice cream after the first few tugs on the straw. Such an ice cream headache!! All through the sinuses. . .

So, not a great day, although I did manage to consume an entire canteloupe throughout the day. Maybe more ice cream compensation.

. . . is obscured by its wrinkles.

One morning, as I hung between sleep and consciousness, I utter the sentence, "The smoothness of the elephant is obscured by its wrinkles." I imagined it must have deeply profound meaning. The depths of its meaning(s) have not yet been plumbed.
While I would like to say that this blog is about discovering the deeper meanings of the textures of elephants, I can only hope that I may accidentally stumble upon them as I use this blog to track my journey from a slightly overweight middle aged woman with a shoulder injury (crashed my bicycle on "Ride Your Bike to Work Day") to a fit, gorgeous babe in her twenties. Okay, that may be reaching too far. I'll be happy with losing 25 pounds and getting my butt (and all the rest) back in shape without falling off my bike.
Here's a good starting point--it's the first day of June, my schedule is winding down (and I'm looking for a summer job), and it looks as if I will have been out of high school for thirty years by the middle of this month. Let's go!!!

First step--slow down. I eat TOOOO FAST!! Years of cramming lunch down between lessons and traveling have trained me to inhale food before my companions have brought their first bite to their mouths. That stops now (it's gonna take some thought). So, off I go to chew my food. . .