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Dreaming of Ice Cream, and other Diet Disasters



I dreamt that I was walking through the store eating chocolate ice cream out of a half gallon carton. I walked blindly through the produce department, oblivious to all the healthy foods, the ones I’ve been centering my diet around for the last four months. Head bent, I furiously scooped the melted deliciousness from the edges of the big hunk in the center, as I made my way to the checkout. It was downright heavenly.

And then it hit me. The carton was 3/4 empty. I couldn’t bring it home this way and have Jim see the evidence of my binge! Oh, the shame of it! I considered throwing the remains away, but that would be worse. Such waste! There was really only one solution…

I can’t believe I ate the whole thing.

Thank goodness it was only a dream. I have this fear, that if I break down and give in to dessert, the 12 pounds so recently departed, will instantly reappear. Intellectually, I know it doesn’t work that way. It’s more likely to be a slow slide… that starts with a spoonful of melty, gooey, chocolate… No! I must remain strong.

I feel so much better when I’m eating only healthy, unprocessed, food. More energetic, more focused, less moody. Better.

A compromise for the holiday? One piece of pie on Thanksgiving? That’s reasonable, right?



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Oh, No! Not Another Health Nut!

When we moved a year ago, I got rid of the old bathroom scale. It wasn’t accurate, took up too much space, and collected a whole lot of hair on the bathroom floor. I was tired of cleaning around and under it. That was my excuse. I also got rid of the full -length mirror. It had been in my daughter’s room and had stickers on it, not to mention a layer of grime, from me never bothering to clean it. Both choices seemed logical at the time. No scale, no mirror, and a long dreary winter spent watching Netflix in the new leather recliner while drinking screwdrivers was not exactly a recipe for good health.

I could ignore the weight gain—no mirror, no scale remember—but an increase in forgetful moments and general spaciness began affecting my writing, as well as my real life. “Why yes, Honey, I did put the trash in the recycle and the recycling in the trash. Oops. Sorry.” So I decided to make some changes. Better food. Less food. More exercise. I even gave up my nightly glass of red wine with dinner. I know about the studies that claim red wine is good for you, but I think cutting it out is making a difference. Fewer incidents of saying the wrong word, or walking into a room and drawing a complete blank as to why I’m there. My brain is important to me. I’ve decided to take better care of it.

Since cutting out processed food I’ve discovered just how good ‘real’ food can taste. I’ve been cooking from scratch and while it can be time -consuming, I’ve been enjoying the process. I’m not naturally a good cook. I’ve always been lazy about dinner, rotating between a few favorite meals that don’t require a recipe or buying premade stuff. Now I’m looking up recipes, trying new things, and enjoying it. My daughter is a good cook. I’ll happily wash the dishes after she’s fed me. For Christmas, Heidi gave me a copy of her favorite cookbook, Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon. It’s far more than a collection of recipes. It’s about how to eat, and why. Sally never fell for the low- fat diet craze, not even when our government endorsed it.  (Yes, margarine is low in fat, but it’s not real food!)

I’ve found that I can eat delicious, satisfying food, not starve, and still lose weight. Yay! I even bought a full-length mirror. And a scale. The scale is light and compact and fits in a cupboard—very cool.

Here is a link to the cookbook:

(Not an affiliate link, just me sharing.)