Well, I abandoned my great idea to have plastic surgery done this summer for a more practical approach to my ever enlarging body. Oh yes, it seemed like a great idea in the beginning. A tummy tuck and full lipo job and a 6 week recovery....wow! Plus the benefit of being 3 sizes smaller. I was in, it all sounded so good, 6 weeks recovery, 3 to 6 months to see the results..ok and then it started to happen. All of the little signals were going off, red flags and that uncomfortable feeling you get when things just don't feel quite right. Plus my favorite doctor and his great team seemed to be dropping the ball at every turn, well not the doctor, but the office staff.
First the cost will be this much, oops forgot to add this in, then it will be this much , oops forgot this and surgery will be on this date and a couple of weeks later it's changed to another location and date....not feeling real good about this one. It changed three times and that was three times too many for me. This little voice kept saying, wouldn't it be healthier to workout more and do this the natural way?
So, the family joined the gym. I was already working out and had been faithfully since last January. I was not seeing the results I wanted to see and the weight was hardly budging. So the new plan was simple, join the gym and get a personal trainer. At 53 years of age, I am thinking that this is a pretty brave move.
We hit the gym early in the morning and do 30 minutes of cardio, cardio hates me ( it's mutual). The good news is that their are several choices and as long as you go directly from one machine to another ( no walks to the locker room or stopping to chat for 15 minutes) you can change. There is the LARGE stair stepper, 5 minutes that's it for me, the the eliptical machines..burn thighs burn...eeeek, and then give me a bike and I ride to the finish line. Then it is off to resistance training. An hour and a half later, I am crawling out the door...surgery would have been less painful and they give drugs!
Monday, July 23, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Little Projects..Big Gratification!
I am having a bad day, big deal . I have projects going and several things on the burner to get done before school resumes on the 20th of next month. I had a dinette set that had been weathered badly, after our home was partially destroyed by fire. The Insurance Company hired a disaster team to come in and pack us up and determine what could be saved. In the process many of our things were set outside in the January weather, and thus the need to do something with the table.
I decided to sand it down and restain it, and I did. Then I decided to paint the rim of the table and the pedestal Williamsburg blue and give it all a nice coat of varnish. This was a three day project, but I love my table. It actually looks better than it ever did before and goes with the decor.
Mood: creative!
I decided to sand it down and restain it, and I did. Then I decided to paint the rim of the table and the pedestal Williamsburg blue and give it all a nice coat of varnish. This was a three day project, but I love my table. It actually looks better than it ever did before and goes with the decor.
Mood: creative!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
The Unshakeable
I repeatedly refer to this as my place to think outloud, my road...it's peaceful here. However, what my mind continues to drift to is not so peaceful, funny, witty or calming. I think my 4th of July post sums it up. We need to think about and quietly give a moment to think about the defenders of our Great Nation.
For the past year, since the reunion between my brother and myself, I have been on a journey of discovery. Discovery that would provide me with "evidence" and a greater understanding of the effects of war on all who find themselves participants. Participants can be identified as those who" answer the call", and find themselves in uniform, carrying a weapon in a foreign land. It can be the uniformed nurse, doctor, surgeon, mechanic or the mother, father, sister, brother, friend, wife, or girlfriend who pray and wait for their safe return. To any of us who have been a participant we know the feelings don't go away. It is part of our personal history and it lives with us and we live with it.
I was 13 years old in the summer of 1966. That August I said good-bye to my oldest brother, 20 year old PFC Gene Bishop USMC, and two of his buddies from Boot Camp, Stevens, and Atkinson. Stevens was about 5'10", blonde and blue eyed and hailed from Indiana. Atkinson was about 6'1" brown hair, green eyes and hailed from Pennsylvania. All three young, athletically fit Marines heading "in country", heading to Viet Nam for a 13 month visit ( tour of duty). I never saw Stevens or Atkinson again, and I never saw my brother...that brother ...again. Why?
This is where the year of discovery has taken me, they all three came home, but all three ( and many many more like them) left parts of themselves there in a place called war. Their ability to only imagine was one part missing , after all what was left to imagine they had either seen it or done it. Their innocence, is was gone after the first patrol out. Their ability to see a future, they didn't give themselves the luxury of thinking about one for they lived with the truth, which was they could be dead tomorrow. They lived in the moment, joking sarcastically with one another and reminding each other how close the other one came to "buying the big one". They all had a locker at the end of their bunk with their personal effects inside, which they ritualistically went through before each mission and patrol. Death was real in their world and most of them will tell you that the ability to "hear" ( conjure in their minds) the crowds at their college football game, feel and smell the crisp winter air, a familiar summer place with friends kept them sane. Just thinking of home ... just goin home.
The price of war is huge for everyone. Those who fight the fight, those who wait and pray, those whom they serve and those whose lives will forever be changed by their victory..their chance their opportunity to live as we do "free". War is a destination and it is a life long sacrifice that is made by every soldier, Marine, Air Force pilot, seaman and other military personnel that finds themselves there. We owe them our support, prayers and respect.
For the past year, since the reunion between my brother and myself, I have been on a journey of discovery. Discovery that would provide me with "evidence" and a greater understanding of the effects of war on all who find themselves participants. Participants can be identified as those who" answer the call", and find themselves in uniform, carrying a weapon in a foreign land. It can be the uniformed nurse, doctor, surgeon, mechanic or the mother, father, sister, brother, friend, wife, or girlfriend who pray and wait for their safe return. To any of us who have been a participant we know the feelings don't go away. It is part of our personal history and it lives with us and we live with it.
I was 13 years old in the summer of 1966. That August I said good-bye to my oldest brother, 20 year old PFC Gene Bishop USMC, and two of his buddies from Boot Camp, Stevens, and Atkinson. Stevens was about 5'10", blonde and blue eyed and hailed from Indiana. Atkinson was about 6'1" brown hair, green eyes and hailed from Pennsylvania. All three young, athletically fit Marines heading "in country", heading to Viet Nam for a 13 month visit ( tour of duty). I never saw Stevens or Atkinson again, and I never saw my brother...that brother ...again. Why?
This is where the year of discovery has taken me, they all three came home, but all three ( and many many more like them) left parts of themselves there in a place called war. Their ability to only imagine was one part missing , after all what was left to imagine they had either seen it or done it. Their innocence, is was gone after the first patrol out. Their ability to see a future, they didn't give themselves the luxury of thinking about one for they lived with the truth, which was they could be dead tomorrow. They lived in the moment, joking sarcastically with one another and reminding each other how close the other one came to "buying the big one". They all had a locker at the end of their bunk with their personal effects inside, which they ritualistically went through before each mission and patrol. Death was real in their world and most of them will tell you that the ability to "hear" ( conjure in their minds) the crowds at their college football game, feel and smell the crisp winter air, a familiar summer place with friends kept them sane. Just thinking of home ... just goin home.
The price of war is huge for everyone. Those who fight the fight, those who wait and pray, those whom they serve and those whose lives will forever be changed by their victory..their chance their opportunity to live as we do "free". War is a destination and it is a life long sacrifice that is made by every soldier, Marine, Air Force pilot, seaman and other military personnel that finds themselves there. We owe them our support, prayers and respect.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Independence Day
4th of July- ( sigh) This holiday creates a lump in my throat.
1776- we have declared our Independence as a Nation against British rule..at what price....
This is where the lump begins. I am profoundly proud of all those individuals, male, female, children, poor man, beggar man and slave who took up arms for the march of freedom. I am equally proud of all those who followed in their footsteps throughout the generations that have brought us to where we stand as a vital, powerful Nation today. This is not a political statement, but rather a statement to those who answer the "call" to arms from our Nation. Thank you.
A little melodramatic, no I don't think so. Have you ever asked yourself what it takes to serve your country in this "calling"? Does it take a certain amount of bravery, idealism, courage, or is it just a nudge in the pit of your stomach that won't stop nudging? If you managed to return in one piece, disabled , loss of a leg or an arm were you the lucky one? Does anyone ever really make it back in one piece from a place called war?
In my opinion, the answer is no, the sacrifices of all who participate is a lifelong sacrifice. They carry the faces and memories of their friends, comrades and enemies with them forever. Their families help carry the burden as bystanders only, never really understanding the psychological trauma they have endured and attempt to mask. The families are the supporters and can really only imagine their nightmares. They don't understand the sense of pride that grabs the soldier, Marine, corpsman, and the pilot when they hear the name of their company. No matter what generation is carrying on they will always be a part of the 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines, Echo, Fox, Golf, Hotel....they are truly a "Band of Brothers." Experiences in combat bond men together like no other.
We talked tough. Conversations were laced with terms like "widow maker," "strike force" and "reconnaissance in force." "Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death..." the little ditty would begin. But God knew the truth, because it was to him we talked praying with each breath. We had not heard of male bonding but survived because of espirit de corps. We trusted each other with our lives. We needed to be alert, so we did not take drugs, saving our intemperance for beer in the rear area. It has been said that there are no atheists in foxholes. We discovered there were no racists there either.We were surprised by our bravery and equally surprised by how scared we were. We were profoundly changed. Some of us were changed by torn bodies, crushed psyches and broken spirits. Some of us were changed by what we learned. We learned about courage, determination, camaraderie, selflessness and an appreciation for living. ( Tim Lickness , 101st Airborne's Screaming Eagles)
It is a sacrifice like no other and I am deeply proud to be the daughter of a veteran of WWII, (Navy )and a sister of two Viet Nam veterans (Marines Corps, Army). These were and are brave men and all three have carried the scars of combat. Perhaps my brother Gene said it the best and I would like to quote him and honour him today:
Each veteran of combat has his own family of ghosts. These ghosts are formed in the presence of death and the enduring memory of companions lost. They hide, deep..deep in the folds and recesses of the mind. Here they create the dreams and nightmares that never allow us to forget the chaos of battle or the mutilation found in death. These ghosts of friends, companions and enemies did not leave this world in a pleasant manner. The crucible of war carried them to Valhalla on their shields and yet they live. They live with those who survived and the survivors feed and nourish them with their inability to forget. (Gene Bishop, USMC. Viet Nam, 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines, Echo Co. Raiders.)
We do not take your sacrifice for granted, we quietly watch and pray for you and your emotional healing, which we can not even begin to comprehend. You are our sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers, grandfathers, uncles, cousins, schoolmates, and friends. We love you and give you our support and deepest profound gratitude for your service to our country, our Nation....home of the Free and the Brave. Happy 4th of July to you all.
1776- we have declared our Independence as a Nation against British rule..at what price....
This is where the lump begins. I am profoundly proud of all those individuals, male, female, children, poor man, beggar man and slave who took up arms for the march of freedom. I am equally proud of all those who followed in their footsteps throughout the generations that have brought us to where we stand as a vital, powerful Nation today. This is not a political statement, but rather a statement to those who answer the "call" to arms from our Nation. Thank you.
A little melodramatic, no I don't think so. Have you ever asked yourself what it takes to serve your country in this "calling"? Does it take a certain amount of bravery, idealism, courage, or is it just a nudge in the pit of your stomach that won't stop nudging? If you managed to return in one piece, disabled , loss of a leg or an arm were you the lucky one? Does anyone ever really make it back in one piece from a place called war?
In my opinion, the answer is no, the sacrifices of all who participate is a lifelong sacrifice. They carry the faces and memories of their friends, comrades and enemies with them forever. Their families help carry the burden as bystanders only, never really understanding the psychological trauma they have endured and attempt to mask. The families are the supporters and can really only imagine their nightmares. They don't understand the sense of pride that grabs the soldier, Marine, corpsman, and the pilot when they hear the name of their company. No matter what generation is carrying on they will always be a part of the 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines, Echo, Fox, Golf, Hotel....they are truly a "Band of Brothers." Experiences in combat bond men together like no other.
We talked tough. Conversations were laced with terms like "widow maker," "strike force" and "reconnaissance in force." "Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death..." the little ditty would begin. But God knew the truth, because it was to him we talked praying with each breath. We had not heard of male bonding but survived because of espirit de corps. We trusted each other with our lives. We needed to be alert, so we did not take drugs, saving our intemperance for beer in the rear area. It has been said that there are no atheists in foxholes. We discovered there were no racists there either.We were surprised by our bravery and equally surprised by how scared we were. We were profoundly changed. Some of us were changed by torn bodies, crushed psyches and broken spirits. Some of us were changed by what we learned. We learned about courage, determination, camaraderie, selflessness and an appreciation for living. ( Tim Lickness , 101st Airborne's Screaming Eagles)
It is a sacrifice like no other and I am deeply proud to be the daughter of a veteran of WWII, (Navy )and a sister of two Viet Nam veterans (Marines Corps, Army). These were and are brave men and all three have carried the scars of combat. Perhaps my brother Gene said it the best and I would like to quote him and honour him today:
Each veteran of combat has his own family of ghosts. These ghosts are formed in the presence of death and the enduring memory of companions lost. They hide, deep..deep in the folds and recesses of the mind. Here they create the dreams and nightmares that never allow us to forget the chaos of battle or the mutilation found in death. These ghosts of friends, companions and enemies did not leave this world in a pleasant manner. The crucible of war carried them to Valhalla on their shields and yet they live. They live with those who survived and the survivors feed and nourish them with their inability to forget. (Gene Bishop, USMC. Viet Nam, 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines, Echo Co. Raiders.)
We do not take your sacrifice for granted, we quietly watch and pray for you and your emotional healing, which we can not even begin to comprehend. You are our sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers, grandfathers, uncles, cousins, schoolmates, and friends. We love you and give you our support and deepest profound gratitude for your service to our country, our Nation....home of the Free and the Brave. Happy 4th of July to you all.
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