The totally shame-free, actual-life, real-time blog where I tell all, show all--without nagging or whining (all right--maybe a little whining...)--in my attempt to stop being a fat middle-aged woman who avoids mirrors and clothing stores and start being a woman at home in her body...brought to you by a real woman, the Independent Weltha Herself. I won't give any advice, and I'm not asking for any--just companionship on my journey.
Every day...a new post. Every other week...my real weight. Every month...new pictures.
For every woman who has ever tried to just lose the extra weight and feel good...overall and about herself...and who lived to tell the story.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
- My dad was probably Springfield, Missouri's first traffic casualty (not fatality because he was 3 years old and hadn't married and had us at the time...)
- My brothers are mirror identical twins (look it up...very interesting)
- My mom worked for and volunteered for the American Red Cross for a total of 50 years.
- My mom had one Confederate grandfather and one Union grandfather.
- Mom's Confederate grandfather was kin to the Dalton gang of outlaws and let them sleep overnight in the barn once when my grandmother Daisy was 9 years old.
- On Dad's side, we are related distantly (by marriage) to John Wilkes Booth
- Mom's Confederate grandfather had a first cousin in Tennessee who sold a little slave girl to a farmer in Diamond, Missouri (slavery is a bad thing and so is selling a child). The little girl was named Mary and she was sold to Moses Carver. Mary grew up to become the mother of George Washington Carver...
- My mom was a double cousin (same cousins through both parents) because her mother Daisy married her father H. P. and H. P's sister Molly married Daisy's brother Jim. No, no one married someone they were related to...so don't start that up with me....
- I was the first student in my high school history to be a Merit Finalist.
- I won a pie-eating contest 2 years in a row...
All right, that last one isn't much but hey! My family is without question "one of a kind."
You read it here first.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
- My wonderful church and my pastor Bishop. I have referred to him as the Big Kahuna of St. J's and he is (and he's also tall and slender and aristocratic-looking, not to mention hilarious.) He's a Good Shepherd of the Flock--much like the Good Shepherd Himself...
- My friends--I know you all hear over and over about Poodle, Mischa, Debbie, Grammy Jean and more...I have the greatest friends on earth. Add to that Dawn in Arkansas, Wes in Texas, Suellen, Martha and Melynda in Virginia...Rack and Eric and the whole Choir...and boy could I add more...and you have a set of incredible friends.
- My "new digs" with Tasha the Housemate and her two boys. I'm having a great time and I'm very happy where I live.
- The fact that I love Shakespeare and Milton--and really good modern novelists too--including the wonderful James Lee Burke and more...
- Where I work--with my wonderful supervisor and my wonderful co-workers. I am very happy.
- The fact that I will again teach. I will. I am so glad this is true and every day, I try to move toward THAT day.
- The fact that albeit slowly, I am losing weight
- My skin...I have lovely skin if I say so myself
- My sense of humor--I find me terribly funny
- My zest for life--which is returning in a major, major way...I mean, it's coming to its FULL FLOWER
- The fact that my lovely city has great museums and parks
- And Farmer's Markets all over the place not to mention fresh fruit and vegetable stands
- Hope. I have tremendous hope in my life.
- My cats--I love, love, love them and try to remember not to scold them even when Horatius butts my hand as I'm putting kitty food in the bowls and it goes all over or when Mimsey hollers at the top of her little lungs at me...they love me and I love them.
- My two brothers. They are the best. Maybe not everyone else's "best" but my best and I would not trade them for anyone on earth.
- My ability to crochet and knit and embroider and write academic and creative essays and sing and play the piano and the Appalachian dulcimer (not very hard but then how many people do you know who actually do?)
- The diversity of my friends and their interests and abilities
- My faith and the way in which I experience it as an Anglican
- My ability to decorate which I am continuing to develop...and I have a major plan for the future in terms of color and decor...
- My love of books and music and art and nature and film
There, that should do it! That's what I ABSOLUTELY love about my life.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
- Going to Chartwell, Winston Churchill's estate, in Kent in the UK back in 2005 in the summer. It was a moment I had waited for my entire life, and it did not disappoint. I sat on the retaining wall on the back garden and doggone it I should have brought my disc of photos so I could include a picture...and looked out over the beautiful Kentish Weald as it slopes down toward the sea. I visited with a couple who lived in the area and who had been deported to Wales as children because Kent was so heavily bombed. I also talked to a lovely older woman who visited Chartwell every time she felt "low" since the death of her husband less than a year earlier. It was a sublime moment.
- Finding out--and then actually hearing it as he introduced me--that Bill the Presence had referred to me as "brilliant." I mean, Bill is Brilliant (with a capital "B") and I have looked up to him ever since I was his student back in 2005 (yes, a banner year). And to have him tell people I'm brilliant, well, it's pretty doggone wonderful. I try not to think to myself, "Bill needs to get out more..."
- Receiving "Teacher of the Year" from the Class of '87 at the Christian School where I taught. That class was very dear to me--they still are--and it was a wonderful wonderful moment and yes, I still have the plaque (packed away.) and I'm in touch with so many of those students. It was a great moment.
There is a degree to which these were random choices--I have had many wonderful moments in my life. Trying to pick 3 would be like trying to pick my 3 favorite breaths of air. All of the good moments, great and small, have been...really good. Still, those three are very special to me. I probably should have a sign that reads, "Will work for praise and recognition..."
This evening, I post on my 3 LEAST favorite moments...what, only 3? Ah well, they are in the past, and that's a great thing.
- People who talk or whisper and distract me. Unfortunately, I'm kinda tightly wired if you know what I mean, and I distract easily.
- People who make noise with their food or--and I truly love this--spill it.
- People who bring children who should not--for any reason--be in that movie, whether the child is just too little or not ready to sit still and watch or better yet, the film is an ADULT FILM and here is this child. Once a mother brought her little child to Pan's Labyrinth. This is an adult film with a child protagonist. It is not a children's film. And mom spent the whole time trying to explain the film to a clearly upset child.
- People who walk past me 10 times--that is, who walk over me trying to get somewhere else. I say, if you want to be somewhere else, go there and stay there.
- People who kick the back of my seat repeatedly until I cannot concentrate on the film.
- People who laugh like buffoons at things that are not funny. Americans have a terrible tendency to do this. If one thing is remotely funny, then every moment of pathos is treated as "Reason to Laugh" excuse me, that's "Reason to Laff." It's mildly annoying at documentaries, but when there is something poignant or sad, it's...maddening. I remember the group of teenagers who laughed at the beginning of Saving Private Ryan when medics feverishly worked to stabilize a wounded soldier on the beach of Normandy on D-Day under withering German fire, damn it (yes, I swore but that's how this stuff affects me) only for the soldier to be shot in the head through his helmet and killed. And these kids laughed. Until I turned around and gave them The Look. Former students know what I'm talking about...it's not just "a look"--it's an implicit threat that I'm about to say something they are not going to want to hear...
- People who repeat dialog as if there is a reason to do that--hey! the rest of us have ears. Honestly, we do.
- People who narrate what's happening on screen: "He got in the car!" Really, Sherlock?
- People who "wonder" out loud: "I wonder what he's gonna do..." or better yet, play Local Psychic, "He's gonna go up those stairs and The Monster is gonna get him." Thank you. I no longer need to watch the movie.
- People who do not realize that a movie theater is really a Temple of Cinema and don't make me go all Incarnational Aesthetics on you...
- People who have to play Local Film Critic during the film. Listen, buddy, if you're trying to impress the little Tootsie you brought as your date, wait until you're out of here and away from us--or someone (like me) might turn around and tell her that you're a moron and you don't know what you're talking about. At all. As in...At. All.
- Any use whatsoever (for any reason except being called away to perform emergency brain surgery) of a cell phone to either talk or text. Flogging is too good for these people. It causes me to despair for mankind, it really does.
Now I have worn me out, but as far as general irritation, there you have it. I am deeply irritated at these things. Deeply, deeply irritated. This is why I take a friend to a movie whenever I can--to soak up the extra psychic energy of these people so I don't find myself incarcerated for 30 to life for homicide at the cinema...
Of course, I would think it's justifiable so there you have it...