Not a BIT of Progress

Actually, that's an assumption. As Mr. Bob strongly recommends not getting back on the scales until the end of Phase One, and phase One is all about establishing new habits, I have no numerical measure of my progress. Ergo, it appears there is none.

Remember those habits?

1) Increase my activity level.

2) Stop eating 2 hours before bed-time. (aack!)

3) Eat three meals, including a nutritious breakfast, plus at least one snack, daily.

4) Stay hydrated. (48 oz of water a day.)

5) Eliminate alcohol. (um, ok. Done. It's not that I don't drink, I just, um, don't drink.)

6) Take daily supplements.

I haven't kept a chart or any way to track any of this. In my defense, I have been up to my ying yang in making charts and lists for school, but that's over now. So, I think I need to play with Word and get something run off to stick on the fridge. It would be a way to track progress, of a sort, wouldn't it? Because I think I'm going to be in phase One a long, long time.

As discussed before, #2 is the bugaboo, for in order to stop eating 2 hours before bed time, one must actually have a bed time! Remember how I mentioned I "eat to stay awake?" Well, a few times in the past week I caught myself eating late at night...for absolutely no reason whatsoever. The house was quiet, the kids were asleep. I didn't need to stay awake...and yet, here I was, eating, while planning to go to bed. Hmmm.

We have managed to get up at 6:30am this morning. (No, they aren't reading, but watching Arthur. I'm typing this.) But it is too soon to celebrate a new "habit." In a month, it will still be too soon, I think. When my son attended school, we had to be up every morning at 8:30 at the absolute latest. In order for him to get enough sleep, he had to be in bed by 9. In three years, it never happened. Ok, maybe once or twice, but never for any length of time. (I did seek doctors help. They were unhelpful.)

So, my perspective on this is that we will have to keep at it for at least a year. I think I may have to include weekends, though, frankly, I will resist that for as long as I can!

(ack, I said "no more Arthur, time to get dressed," and I think they have crawled under the covers again! Oh man. I've had less than five hours of sleep, myself. sigh. I'm tempted to let them sleep for an hour but our school day is likely to be very short today as my Mom is coming at 11am and then my sister is dropping off my eight month old nephew to be looked after for the afternoon. I do NOT want to give up the school day!)

I guess this is precisely why I need a really long term perspective. If I based my "progress" on the results of a mere week (or month), I'd be likely to throw up my hands and say, "this will never work." Surely, if I give it a solid effort 'til Christmas, at least, we can establish this new, wonderful habit?

I'm going to rouse them and herd them to the table, now.

Weekend Project 1

We finally rented a chainsaw! We were able to get a 16" electric. The big decision for the husband was whether to buy one (for $60) or rent. We probably spent 1/2 the day discussing it.

Nonetheless.

Before:



After:



The stump is still in the ground, though. I'd thought we could just grind it down below the surface with the chainsaw, but I didn't know that a chain saw musn't come in contact with the ground. (Gums up the gears or something.) Oh well.

Project #2 will be planting my poor wilting dogwoods sometime today.

Holy Books, Batman!

We're up at 6:30am again. We managed it yesterday and now, today. It's been my goal to "get up with Dad" and see him out the door, and here we are two days in a row. (Tomorrow, though, he wakes up at 5:30, so he'll have to see himself out.)

But that's not all. They are reading. Reading! Not watching TV/DVD's as is usual. They wanted to.

It's calm. Peaceful. What a wonderful way to start the day.

Not Exactly a Guilty Pleasure

I am compelled to provide a bit of background.

Last week I finally got to see The Queen. I always enjoy the commentaries, and I found the one by the historian quite interesting (if a bit pedantic and a bit too much of stating the obvious). He mentioned that "an interview" with the late Diana, The Princess of Wales which was playing in the background and which in the film the Queen was watching had "blindsided The Palace." He said it was this interview which decided them that the separation between the Prince and Princess of Wales should be made permanent with a divorce.

It was the famous interview (which I actually saw at the time) where she mentions being "the queen of people's hearts."

I wanted to watch the interview again, so I turned to You-Tube and found it.

I also found an awful lot of sick puppy videos centered around Prince William and Prince Harry. I watched a few--still photographs culled from various sources set to awful music.

However, I did enjoy this one. I thought it was done rather well.

Too Sexy Prince Harry

Planning School

Well, it has to be done.

I still have my wonderful spreadsheet from last year, but it is hopelessly out of date and I'm beginning to be a bit alarmed. I hauled the kids outside today to read a chapter of The Railway Children by E. Nesbit, just so I could feel like we did something.

As a consequence, though, I've started posting again over at the SSC blog.

Numbers Up!

Stucco is really, really hard. Even with the proper drill bit, it took forever to drill the holes for the screws.

But here they are!




And for the finale---wait for it----














Crackers--in addition to a new light fixture, now I need a new welcome mat! Look at that dinky thing.

I understand now why the husband looked at me funny when I brought home the new mailbox and protested, "It was only $11!" Then again, the numbers project came in under that modest amount, but one thing does lead to another, doesn't it?

I imagine you are asking yourself, why "03" and not just "3?" Call it quirky local convention. Our addresses in this part of town are all numbers--a "3" by itself would be a bit confusing, believe it or not. (Or so we figured.)

Tomatoes

Most of these were enjoyed in Aurelia's Birthday dinner salad.


Tomatoes symbolise the purpose of having a food garden. It was The End of Food by Thomas F. Pawlick, I believe, which explained the mystery and annoyance of the ubiquitous cardboard supermarket tomato.

I was never allowed to eat tomatoes in the winter: we couldn't afford them. If my mother did give in to my high pitched pleadings, I was invariably disappointed. They were tough, they tasted awful and the expensive booty was left to rot in the fridge.

In the summer, by contrast, we would slice a tomato each, layer it on two pieces of soft brown bread slathered with mayo, dust them with salt and devour them standing over the kitchen sink letting the juices fall down over our chin and harmlessly into the drain.

When was the last time you had a tomato like that?

Blame it on the Unions. Blame it on migratory workers wanting a living wage, for heaven's sake. Blame it on the big tomato producers who found a way to get rid of unionized decent-wage demanding migrant workers. Blame it on mechanical pickers which can only pick a tomato of a certain size and weight. Blame it on chemicals and transportation. Blame it on the discerning consumer.*

We are now in the odd situation where canned and processed tomatoes are actually healthier than the red, chemically ripened globes in the fresh produce aisle. The latter don't have to be "perfect", you see, so they are allowed to ripen a little longer, get a little bigger before they are picked by a mechanical arm.

So what's a chin slobbering fresh tomato-loving gal to do?

Grow my own.

I did it wrong, though.

What I did right:

I picked a good variety--"Early Girl." As we have a teeny tiny growing season, I wanted something that would actually ripen before September. Since I didn't give it any thought until late May, I bought two already started.

I planted them in "container soil" in a large tub.

I watered them faithfully, even through all the rain we had. One night as we noticed hail about to bounce from the sky, the husband and I picked up the tub and carried it inside the playhouse.

I mulched them with spent coffee grounds. I did this mostly to keep the dog away from them, but it turns out to have been a good thing.

I put a cage on them to support them.

What I did wrong:

I planted them side by side. They need two to three feet between them, or one tub each.

I put the cages on them: upside down.

I didn't fertilize.

I didn't prune.

Outstanding early variety of tomato for short season gardens. Proven, dependable, tasty uniform 4 to 5 ounce tomatoes. Excellent for home gardens (24 seeds approximately). Early Girl is an indeterminate variety (tall growing) so provide some support as plants grow. Approximately 62 days to maturity from transplanting.

From Ed Hume's Seeds

"Indeterminate" varieties need to be staked and pruned. Basically, you find "one main leader," train it up a stake and snap off any "branches" which come out from the leader and head sideways. Trimming them out allows air and light into the plant and prevents all sorts of problems like mildew.

A "determinate" variety, on the other hand, should be let to sprawl on the ground and the suckers allowed to develop.

(And, of course, given my penchant for procrastination, I only found all this out this week.)

My first tomato was nice and large: big enough for a sandwich with some left over. I meant to eat it that way, but somehow it got tossed into a scrumptious salad. I couldn't believe my daughter when she refused it at supper.

"I don't want tomato," she said.
"You've ever had a tomato like this one," I said, "give it a try." (It killed me to say it, actually. I would have been quite happy eating it all myself.)
She protested some more, so finally, I said, "Just take a no-thank you bite. Here."

She actually thanked me later for making her try it. And she requested the same salad for her birthday dinner.

The tomatoes, since, though, have been quite small. Too small for a sandwich. I have hope, yet, though. Along with a bunch of little ones, there's one which looks quite promising still on the vine.


And I'm not going to share it.


*This line always trumpets through my head as I prowl through the produce: "Give me spots on my apples, but leave me the birds and the bees, pleeeeeeease." From Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell.