Sad

I won't go into it, but something has happened today to remind me that my darling Mum is never coming back, and I feel bereft, sad, heartsick, call it what you will.

I know it maybe sounds a little silly after the time that's passed, and because to all intents and purposes I'm 'fine' and I both can and do manage everyday life 'normally' for most of the time. But, and it's a big one - but every now and again something brings me up short and I remember all over again the pain of losing her as if it had happened yesterday.

Sorry chaps, but I've come to the conclusion that the age-old 'time heals' mantra is so much B.S. It may be that time passing means the frequency of such painful episodes lessens, but the actual feeling when it hits is no less intense.

So today I need a reminder...

Bambi burgers

Wheee! A bargain, and a tasty one to boot. Our lovely Farm Shop sell locally made wild venison burgers, which are just gorgeous, and today they had them at half price.

No added crap, just good honest meat and fat, with a few spices. OK, with a batch of salad, or maybe the Brussels tops, that's tonight's dinner sorted.



... oh, and while I think about it, this seems quite appropriate too. Here's to a medicinally positive evening meal with heaps of that lovely Co-Q 10 and choline.

A strange weekend, but somehow settled

Well now, let's start this week as I mean to go on - the fat lass is OK. In fact, to quote Nina Simone:
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

You know, with the dismal down days of the last few weeks it's really so, so nice to be writing this and even better to be feeling this positive.

OK, I am fully aware it's possibly early days, but I'm beginning to think that my black dog is reconsidering his options and maybe even deciding to call off his attack. Hey, I've seen the beast and recognised my enemy so it's a tad futile for him to continue, right?. I certainly hope that is the case.

The events of this weekend 'could' have been veiwed as a bit of a disaster. I'm fighting a bit of a bug, which has floored others around me but is neither coming-on fully nor going away right now, and we're on flood alert yet again so Sunday was spent a humpin' and a movin' stuff to safety... just in case... again! But I'm not going to allow the negativity of that statement into my head. No siree, the last few days have actually held several minor (and one major) victories.

The minor ones first... we both ate sensibly, stuck to our lovely low-carb meals and had relatively modest portions. We both felt completely comfortable with this. Better, it means that, as of this morning, my weight is back down to the 52.5kg I had got quite used to seeing on the scale but, er, lost for a while. That's just a tad below the 'happy band' I set for myself a while back, but it feels like it's the new 'right' place to be.
[just as an aside, it's sort of funny to be thinking of this as just a 'minor' victory]

Other good things include (finally) having bought a little brightly-coloured notebook to carry with me everywhere, in which to record my blessings as I count them... and I've already started getting them down in black and white. Better late than never, eh?

Lovely hubby and I have also come up with a 'looking after ourselves' plan. We've decided to go ahead with a 'picnic Friday' each week, where we don't need to mess about spending time cooking, and this way we don't waste valuable cuddling time.

Instead, I plan to support our fabulous Farm Shop (who stock local and organic produce as far as possible) and pick up whatever I can find to create a tasty, low-carb picnic feast for us to enjoy. Almost like we did for our Christmas dinner... probably just slightly smaller, less exotic and a little more down to earth. This Friday we enjoyed smoked duck breast, pork loin with rosemary & garlic, a wonderfully creamy (if stinky) Stilton, olives and celery sticks filled with soft goat cheese. Hmmm, still pretty exotic, to be fair, and absolutely wonderful it was too!

We're looking after us physically too - now he's lost such a lot of his previous insulation (a.k.a. fat suit) my lovely hubby feels the cold a lot more, so we bought a beautifully puffy down-filled gilet to help keep him warm. It was less than half price in the sales too - now that was a nice surprise.

And then we get to the big victory, and I am so happy about this I can't really express it. It just feels like a huge worry has been lifted right off me. This is G-O-O-D news.

As you know, I've been dressing lovely hubby's pre-Christmas injury daily. Well, last night when we took off the day's dressing, we realised that the large, ugly scab that we'd seen, still intact and firmly attached, the previous night had almost completely detached from the wound - and not in an 'oh, s**t' way, but because of the healing which had taken place beneath the protective scab.

It's so good to see the new, if delicate, pale pink 'skin' in its place (albeit his thumb is a tad flatter than it used to be and missing a fingerprint!). Although he's going to have to be careful with it and protect it for a while yet as it's still pretty fragile, it's a great indicator of his general good health that this level of repair has only taken five weeks when we'd first been told that it couldn't be stitched as he'd lost a bit of flesh and he 'might' need a skin graft.

I think that, in part, this must be a measure of the lifestyle (or call it diet if you must) we now follow. Decent amounts of quality protein and good healthy fats to aid the body when it needs to repair, but no grains or added sugars and minimal carbs to inflame anything. I'm guessing that's also one reason the bug I'm fighting is on the losing end of the deal (she whispers quietly, carefully crossing her fingers behind her back).

On that happy note, I'll revert to my onwards, ever... finish and think hard about what I can do to increase my exercise levels and fitness - soon!

Turning around a non-stellar week

Why was the last week a tough one? Well, I think it all kicked off when, last Friday, I had a text from my brother updating me about my darling Mum's house. Perhaps I saw negative things which aren't really there, but the only thing it seemed to me that he was interested in was the fact that 'the monies' will be released soon.

What the f**? To quote some devilishly handsome bloke from a film "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn". The point, to me anyway, is that this is perhaps a final reminder of losing our mother - not something to be celebrated. Maybe (as lovely hubby gently pointed out) I'm being too hard on him, but I got very mad, and so, so sad, and ended up feeling even more down and depressed than I had been.

So I did the obvious thing and leapt off the wagon. I won't detail my sorry story, other than to say that Christmas cake is not known as one of the low-carb staples and that I paid for my mistakes... oooh, how I paid.

However, I going to tell you the positive side of the story too.

In fairly short order I realised what I had done/was doing to myself - both physically and emotionally. So, I kicked my backside (metaphorically, anyhow) and got back to drinking copious amounts of good clear water, eating moderately of my low-carb repasts, and walking as much as I could. It was a fairly stressful week in a few ways, but (with a lot of help from lovely hubby) I managed to hang in there.

And, thanks be - that fairly small (but scary!) weight hike I saw mid-week has come back off, and I feel more in control once again. My emotions are better settled and I feel rather more like 'me' again. Victory, in my eyes anyway.

I will end with one more thought - best expressed by my Mum, but in her absence by the picture below.

Is this poor old nag ready for the knackers yard?

Ho hum. So much for my galloping plans and enthusiasm then. If you asked me how 2014 is going so far (and I don't advise it...), my answer would, sadly, be unprintable!

Far from banishing my unwanted black dog, the sneaky blighter seems to have closed in on me and has now got its fangs sunk into my posterior. Worse still, the damn thing growls and howls in the night so I've not been getting a great deal of that lovely beneficial sleep. If anyone knows how I can disengage the beast, or where I can locate the 'OFF' switch to shut down the worries and negative thoughts in the middle of the night, I'd dearly love to know.

Oh sure, I'm still trying to remind myself about the good stuff in life each day, but it isn't making all that much headway with my positivity at the moment. And did I buy that pretty little notebook to record my blessings? Did I hell as like!
[school report card would say 'must try harder' here]

Then we get to the exercise part. Well, there is some good news as I'm still walking... which is a positive thing in several ways, it seems. Work carried out by the University of Illinois has revealed this:

Pretty exciting stuff, eh? Hey, this should give that miserable black dog something to think about, and it also helps keep my fitness levels from completely falling off a cliff.

The less good news is that the abs work hasn't actually restarted yet. I know it's a sad and sorry excuse but, just when I thought I had a work-around and could dress lovely hubby's injury in the evenings, my lack of time in the mornings has been made worse.

Wouldn't you know it, this is because our local public transport 'experts', in their infinite wisdom, have messed with the timetables and cut some services (which they, of course, deny!), leaving me even less time to get my sorry self up, washed, dressed, fed and out in time for the damn bus. That's if I want to stand a chance of getting on the remaining service. As to Connie? Er, let's not go there. I know I'm sounding pathetic, but I'm angry as heck and am struggling (a lot) with this.

Right, enough of these moans and grumbles... all I can say is thank the Lord for low-carb at the moment. Things really aren't all that bad. My weight remains pretty stable and I'm not 'desperate' for the comfort foods of the old days, although thoughts of chocolate (albeit 90%) are crossing my mind periodically. Heaven help me if I was fighting sweet and comfort food cravings in earnest too.

So, instead of saying my usual 'onwards, ever' this time, I'll say it's more a case of just move one foot, then move the next foot, repeat and keep plodding along. The old nag may be struggling a bit, but she's NOT headed for the knackers yard just yet! Things will improve for sure and, if I think logically, I do know that. I've just got to get to the place where that happens.