Too cold, too sweet!

What is it about cold weather that sends the appetite for indulgent foods into a frenzy? Luckily I don't keep many of those temptations in the house.  Never fear, this old bird is resourceful. As temperatures dropped I snuggled under my new warm blanket in the recliner in front of a good movie. Ol' Abner came in and watched for a minute, then headed for the kitchen to prepare some chips and queso.  I resisted.  He ate a sugar free popsicle after that. I declined. Hot coffee was all I needed and since I like it black and unsweetened, my self righteousness was intact!  Key word here, WAS..! Movie ended and I decided a nice glass of peppery syrah with some high cacao chocolate would be a soothing way to finish off the afternoon. We had a couple of little rib-eye steaks thawed but it was too cold to spend anytime on the patio.  I cooked them on the stove top griddle, along with some potatoes, onions and peppers.  Ol' Abner loves an iceberg wedge with all the goodies piled on top.  I prefer a tossed romaine.  Still feeling somewhat righteous, I added some of his bacon and cheese to my salad...a few olives couldn't hurt the result either. No bread for us, we are watching our calorie intake!  A little more of that nice syrah, and I was set for the evening...NOT.  In my search of the extra fridge, I noticed a half container of pistachio gelato. My mind's eye kept reviewing it's positon...thinking it would probably have freezer burn by now. It didn't.  I probably saved it just a few minutes shy of the dread slimy freezer scum.  It was quite tasty. A few chocolate chip cookies (found in the back of the pantry, soon to be stale) followed.  Another glass of wine and I slept well, but the next day I felt the need to overload on carbohydrates.  No resistance there...today I must pay the piper.  No treats for me!

Return of the Natives

How do I cope with that awful moment when the bathroom scales show a sad truth!  The five pounds I struggled to lose last spring have returned and brought along fifteen close friends.  I should've known Saturday when I donned a pair of long jeans not worn all summer.  They were more than just a little snug.  I blithely concluded the dryer had snapped the denim fabric a little tight and would soon adjust back to my "voluptuous curves".  Since I do know better than to step on scales wearing heavy denim, I avoided the weighing until this morning.  There they were; glaring at me with wicked condemnation!

Just when I am in the mood to bake Autumn favorites and curl up with a blanket and a good book, I find myself planning the trip to the gym and counting calories.  Why does pie always have more of the creeping little bundles of energy than the crisp apple?  Who ever determined that calories were "measurements of energy"?  Why don't I feel particularly energetic after I devour half a loaf of freshly baked pumpkin bread?   I fear these questions have no good answers.  Hmmm, the dog seems to be getting a little chunky, too.  Maybe we better go for a walk!

Spring Fever!

Dog and I are feeling restless again.  Our exercise has been limited for too many easy reasons lately.  She's developing a little paunch...and I won't even think about the sour note from the scale in the bathroom. It's not pretty!  Now that the spring/Easter cold snap is in the past, we must regain our commitment to a daily stroll flanked by alternate days in the gym.  Laziness has been so very easy to embrace for a couple of weeks now.

Trauma and roller coaster events in lives of friends and family keep my mind racing.  I know how those poor greyhounds feel as they chase the bunny on a pole around the track!  Where is the rescue team when we need them?

Oh well, I'm putting on my walking shoes and going outside to hear the birds singing up close and personal.  Belle's ready.

Footwork

Ol' Abner suffers from diabetes...and "suffer" is an understatement. After nearly a year in denial, he finally allowed the medical professionals to convince him of his diabetic status. Taking oral medication and cutting "sugar" from his diet was the first sacrifice he made. Never in the habit of indulging in the sweet goodies regularly, he didn't think it would take much effort. The fact: his forays into the world of dessert usually involved consumption of a fourth of a cake or half a pan of bread pudding. I learned to adapt recipes to use non sugar sweeteners and he switched to fresh fruit to satisfy his newly vocal "sweet tooth" on most days. This method of treating his condition with minor adjustments in the medications has been the pattern for nearly a decade.

In recent months, he was urged to check his blood sugar more frequently and keep a record. It was and still is pretty much out of control. We have found many delicious recipes through the years that shouldn't have this affect on him, unfortunately he didn't read the part about portion control. A recipe producing four servings would be consumed at one sitting. Enrollment in a weight loss program unveiled some unwelcome truths regarding portion size and frequency of food intake. He increased the length and frequency of his walks, much to the delight of the four-legged member of the household. Fried foods have been completely removed from his diet and brown rice has become a staple. He has dropped a few pounds, but is very disappointed that weight loss is so slow.

His podiatrist prescribed special shoes for him a few months ago so that his feet would be protected while he increased the amount of walking. When we arrived at the provider for the shoes, one pair was offered, not the two pair she had prescribed. In addition, the fellow handling the service didn't fit them properly. Returning this week to the podiatrist, we recounted the episode of the shoe fitting. She was livid at the poor fit and lack of adherance to the order for two pair of shoes. We were sent posthaste back to the shoe lab for adjustment and an additional pair of shoes. A different fitter worked with Ol' Abner this time, actually measuring his foot and offering several different styles. The previous issue were dumped in the trash and new shoes for athletic walking were carefully fitted and adjusted with inserts for proper fit and support. Another pair, in a dressier style was ordered since his size was not in stock. We left with instructions to return when notified that the second pair had arrived so that any adjustments could be made. As we left, I was walking behind him like the dutiful wife that I am, and was amazed at the difference in his gait. Yesterday, he walked his usual mile and a half and returned without feeling exhausted. This morning he made the trek in five minutes less.

Maybe we now have control of the foot and the mouth. Perhaps he will see a drop on the scale soon.

From This Day Forward

I read somewhere (or maybe I heard it) that the older we get the harder it is to drop unwanted pounds. Why must I exhibit the verification of that theory???? After several weeks of careful eating with a little exercise (I know ten minutes every few days is NOT enough) no pounds are gone. Mind you I avoid the scale like the plaque since the set upstairs never ever agrees with the one downstairs and if you move either of them just a hair, the number varies even more. Thinking small changes might have the desired effect and yet observing not even a tiny affect on the fit of my jeans, my fears were confirmed at the obligatory stand on the scales at the doc's office last week. Yup..I gained two pounds in just over six weeks since the visit to my primary doc. Probably cannot blame it on the different scales...my mismatched gadgets at home comparitively are reaching the same conclusion.

Yesterday was spent in a flurry of activity to find homes for various clutter in my house...climbing and bending is exercise...right. Searched multiple cookbooks and the internet looking for a "steak oscar" recipe worthy of my effort, then veared off to the weight loss plans and reduced calorie recipes. Eventually decided to just steam the asparagus and serve it alongside a chicken dish with tortellini. Bernaise sauce seemed like a lot of trouble and I didn't have any tarragon vinegar or time to infuse any. Frustrated, I went to bed last night with a new resolution. I will right this gluttonous ship by writing down every bite in my mouth and keeping a diary of my daily exercise...three minuts of ladder climbing followed by two minutes burrowing to the back of the linen closet does not equal five minutes of exercise. Not sure who made that rule, but I am destined to follow it. Only bonifide stretch prefaced and steady movement exercise will reach the catalog. Cooking and recipe searches do not count either.