Off The Grid

Jelly Belly

Did you know that fifteen jelly beans are just four Weight Watchers points? This past week, I consumed 60 points in jelly beans alone — in one day. That’s right. An entire bag. And that doesn’t take into account the chocolate bunny, marshmallow Peeps and Cadbury eggs eaten throughout the week. The only thing I seemed able to control myself on were the actual Easter eggs. I still have bright purple, blue and pink eggs behind the plastic butter door of my refrigerator.

I know I shouldn’t keep candy in the house. Pacing myself on sweets is a foreign concept. I may have confessed this before (I tell so many embarrassing stories on myself, I lose track) but I used to force portion control by throwing baggies of treats across the room. It was too much trouble to get from the couch back into the wheelchair to hunt them down. That worked for a while. Not anymore. A few weeks ago, I actually came out of the wheelchair to crawl on the kitchen floor to retrieve a bag of M&M’s I had thrown out of reach into a corner cabinet. Pathetic. In a 12-step program, that’d be called my rock bottom. A girlfriend and I decided that the one binge-proof place would be in a high cabinet. She would come over to place the goodies out of my reach. I can see the headline now. Disabled Woman Dies Trying to Reach Cookies.

Perhaps you all think you know what comes next — some lesson on moderation, diet motivation or tips for weight loss. Wrong! I give up. I’m officially throwing in the towel. I’ve been trying to lose 10 or 15 pounds for one or two years now. And all I have to show for the deprivation when I’m good and guilt when I’m bad is a steady and maintaining 155. (See? I’m publishing my actual weight on the Internet. I have no shame.)

Please don’t misunderstand. I’m still a proponent for healthy living. I don’t plan on gaining. I’ve just decided to give myself a break. I hate to use the wheelchair excuse again, but it does apply here. I mean, not only is cardio exercise harder for me to get but why curb my enjoyment of life even more than the hemorrhage already has?

So, this post is about self-acceptance. I’m still counting points and know what my daily limit should be. I’m just not fretting over the occasional dessert out. Or half-pound bag of jelly beans as the case may be. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll never again have the body I had at 27. And that’s okay. Really. It was a whole lot of work, anyway.

So ditch the guilt! And not just about your body. A friend of mine always beats herself up over the clutter in her home. She collects a lot of stray objects to reuse as art projects. But you know what? That clutter makes her happy. And in the end, she has some beautiful handmade objects to show for it. So I say, embrace your mess! And your rolls.

In the words of my favorite card this Easter, “All I need to know I learned from the Easter bunny: the best things in life are still sweet and gooey and some body parts should be floppy.”

April 7, 2013 7

Weather Woes

Okay, this is ridiculous. I was planning some nice Easter post, spring has sprung, that sort of thing, but I’ve just come in from walking Frankie and I’m freezing. What’s going on? It’s practically April! Enough already! I realize most of you are reading this on the weekend, and since we’re in Florida, it’ll probably have warmed up by then. Heck, you may already be running your air conditioner! But right now, it’s cold. Colder than I even remember it being this winter!

Frankie loves it. Does a little fur really keep dogs so much warmer? I’m bundled like I’m expecting a blizzard, and you don’t see me dancing for joy, do you?

Suffice it to say, Conehead has recovered. Seven seemed to be the magic number. That’s the day he was himself again. I can’t believe I ever felt bad for him. Yesterday, he attacked one of my moving boxes, despite the cone, and I was picking pieces of wet cardboard out of the thing forever. Now he’s running around into walls, bushes and things, misjudging the clearance he needs, and it doesn’t even faze him.

So while Mr. Frisky relishes the cold air, I just want to stay warm under the covers. As I write this, Frankie and Bella are both outside, basking in the sun, which they seem to like to do whenever it’s cold. With no expectations or preconceived notions of what the weather is supposed to be like, they just go with the flow. There’s probably a lesson, a point to made, in there somewhere, but I’m too cold to make it. Author Jodi Picoult wrote in a novel, “There were two ways to be happy: improve your reality, or lower your expectations.” And since we can’t improve the weather … You get the idea. Happy Easter.

March 28, 2013 6

What Are We Saving For?

Is anyone else exhausted? It’s only midway through the week (last week to you all) so perhaps I’ll still adjust, but I’m all out of whack.

I realize I get up at an insane hour (4:30 a.m.) anyway, but now it feels like rising in the dead of night. And I know what the problem is — I can’t get to bed early enough because the sun’s still shining! I’m an eight hour girl. Any less and I feel like I’m slogging through mud with my clothes on just to make it through the day.

I take my cues from nature. I start thinking about dinner at dusk. But now, it doesn’t occur to me to stop working until 8:00 p.m. and I’m not done eating until 9:00 or 10:00 p.m.! Screwy, I tell you.

And the logic behind this madness? Politicians wanted the country to conserve energy around the First World War. (Really, there’s talk that our president at the time, Woodrow Wilson, just wanted to play golf into the evening hours. That’s a bit selfish don’t you think?)

Seriously, any benefit there might have been 100 years ago is outweighed by the fact that people now run their air conditioners longer, actually using more energy. And it’s dangerous to human health! Studies have shown there’s a spike in traffic accidents as the entire country runs around on dark morning roads groggy and sleep-deprived. And more importantly, farmers are reporting that their cows are definitely unhappy with the shift. They don’t like waiting an extra hour to be milked. Come on, people. Care about the cows.

Frankie, at least, remains unconcerned with it all. He doesn’t take his cues from nature. I think he takes them from me. Mr. Bionic Ears wakes when he hears me up, regardless of how quiet I think I am. So I still have to let him out of his crate at 7:00 a.m. It doesn’t matter to him that it’s pitch-black outside, and crickets are chirping instead of birds. He trots out all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, looking expectantly at his leash when there’s no way I can safely walk him for at least another half-hour.

Don’t get me wrong, I like sunshine as much as the next person. So why don’t we make this time the only time? It’s the back and forth that drives me crazy. Pick one already and stop the insanity! Until that happens, I guess I’ll trudge on. I just might be an hour late.

March 17, 2013 8

Next Door Neighbors

“Would you ever consider moving in with your mom?” my mom’s friend asked me in 2011.

“Oh, hell no,” I said.

As a wise friend is fond of saying — never say never.

I stopped saying “hell no,” particularly to my mom’s friends, when Mom reminded me it’s not a very nice thing to say. And once it became clear I was going to do just that, my standard response became “Yes, I’m moving to my mother’s, God help me.” I realize “God help me” is along the same lines as “hell no” and probably isn’t very nice either, so I’m going to stop saying that one, too.

Besides, (famous last words) I really don’t think it’ll be that bad. I’m actually looking forward to it. It’ll be nice to have everything new and accessible. Nice to have wide doorways that I actually fit through instead of accidentally chipping wood or gouging drywall. To have a bathroom I don’t have to back into. Or constantly sop up water off the floor because I’ll have a proper “roll-in” shower. Not to mention, my mother has a pool that we outfitted last year with a wheelchair lift. And best of all, there’s cable galore. My mom easily has a thousand channels.

Frankie will be happy too. He’ll have his two favorite people under one roof. And a new cat buddy, one that occasionally plays with him instead of hissing if he brushes up next to her on the couch. Maybe with two cats, he’ll get the message: cats don’t like repeatedly getting their butts sniffed. And there’ll be longer walks (and power chair rides) as we have to trek a little further to the ocean.

In fact, the only drawback so far has been the bruising of my ego. When you’re in a wheelchair and tell people that you live alone, they immediately assess the situation and conclude that you’re quite capable. If, on the other hand, you mention that you live with your mom, they consider you dependent to the point of needing 24/7 care and not being able to dress yourself.

My mom will do everything in her power to dispell that myth. Already she’s fond of explaining that the move will benefit us both. That she’ll be my body, reaching some item on a top shelf, and I’ll be her mind, figuring out her cell phone or reminding her where she left her keys. My mom values her independence as much as me. She’s even suggested I call before coming over to her side. At first, I found this ridiculous, but on second thought, it works both ways. Is it too silly to have a doorbell installed on the door that links her side to mine? Maybe an intercom? I’ll have a private entrance, a small living room and a kitchenette (with everything but the oven). We won’t be roommates so much as next door neighbors. In fact, maybe that’s what I’ll tell people: I don’t live with my mom, I live next to my mom.

Of course, the writer in me is looking forward to a plethora of new material. From renovation nightmares to disagreements over disciplining Frankie to crazy Carlito, my mom’s bipolar cat. I want it all to go well, but rest assured, I’ll be writing about it if it doesn’t. And so begins another chapter: a mother, a daughter, a dog and two cats. Wish us luck. We may need it.

February 24, 2013 8

Movie Madness

I give up. The cable company wins. I can’t fight them anymore. I’m right, but I’d rather be happy.

I’m a whole lot poorer each month ($116 for basic cable and internet,) but I am happy. Happy with my On Demand. Happy with my DVR. Happy pausing live TV, especially during commercials that are never long enough for my epic bathroom breaks. (Being disabled means spending an inordinately long time in the loo.)

It all started when I fell victim to a recent popular addiction, Downton Abbey. The good news: it’s on PBS — Masterpiece Theater (no expensive cable required.) The bad news: I didn’t clue in as to what all the fuss was about until Season 3. This meant I had a good deal of catching up to do.

No problem, right? You can get anything delivered to your door these days, including DVDs of movies and TV shows.

Let me tell you, it’s easier to get approved for a mortgage than it is to join Netflix. If you’re already a lucky member, don’t ever leave them. First, my credit, then my mother’s, was denied. (And she just bought a house last year.) I snuck around this problem a while ago, when I used the name and credit of a friend at my address (I guess the mailman figured I had a roommate.) Then, after awhile, I lost my mind and canceled.

So now, I have Blockbuster At Home. I’ll run the risk of a slander suit and just tell you. They suck.

Their entire fulfillment department is out back on cigarette break and they seem to be the only company around still using the Pony Express. With Netflix, I’d return one movie and get another two days later. With Blockbuster, I returned the first disc of Downton Abbey – Season 1 on a Friday. It’s almost a week later, and still no disc 2. Oh, but I did get disc 3 yesterday. It lies waiting, taunting me from a bookshelf. I’d watch it, if I didn’t want to spoil it for myself. And, I might be confused. Though I bet, like any good soap opera, you can pick it up anywhere.

The only explanation for this sequence mishap is that the Blockbuster worker bee looked at the screen (or however they do it) at the exact moment I was shuffling movies in my queue, trying to get Downton Abbey to the front of the line! Disc 3 was only ahead of disc 2 for a nano-second. I didn’t leave it that way! See what I mean? They suck.

I thought I had the solution when I noticed the Red Box machine at the grocery store. I was so happy, feeling so confident and independent, that I checked out a movie before ever wondering how I was going to get back to return it. The next day, Frankie and I spent half the morning trekking miles on the power chair to the nearest Red Box location.

That’s when I upgraded my cable.

So, I’m playing the handicapped card yet again. When you’re disabled and don’t drive, you can’t be messing around with free-streaming equipment or risking your life driving to Red Box locations in a power chair. I’ve decided sometimes it’s worth it to pay for convenience. And now I can watch the Super Bowl in its entirety plus commercials. Even if I spend an entire quarter visiting the restroom.

As for Downton Abbey, wouldn’t you know it, U-verse On Demand doesn’t have it. So, I’m still waiting…

February 3, 2013 4

Fresh Starts

I love January. The resolve. The hope. The promise of a new, healthier year. This year, I plan on losing weight, saving money and being more patient with my mom. I always make grandiose plans for a wonderful new me. I have my resolutions written down by Christmas. And then, next season, I resolve to do it all over again the following year.

That I always seem to be making the same resolutions doesn’t bother me. Ongoing failure doesn’t deter me one bit. Where would we be today if Thomas Edison had thrown in the towel after his thousandth attempt at the lightbulb? Or if Bill Gates hadn’t followed up on his first business failure, Traf-o-Data, with Microsoft? Imagine if Stephen King had given up on Carrie. Actually, he did. Bad example. It was his wife who fished the manuscript out of the trash.

But, you get the point. Very few people succeed right out of the gate. Instead, they make multiple attempts and — this is key — learn something as to why they failed, so they can get closer to reaching their goal the next time.

For example, in my quest to shed pounds, I have learned that the all natural supplement, raspberry ketones, touted as the number one miracle fat-burner in a bottle, just makes me nauseous. (Serves me right for looking for an easy way out.) I’ve also learned (or re-learned) that I have absolutely no willpower. So yes, Twizzlers are a nice, low-calorie snack to have on hand to satisfy a sweet tooth. But, if you eat the whole package it’s still 250 calories, 28 grams of sugar and no way to lose weight. It’s best for me not to even have it in the house. Lesson learned.

When I was just a wee little perfectionist, I remember trying my very best to say my pleases and thank yous, not to swear and not to call anyone a stupidhead. Whenever I messed up, I’d quickly give myself a do-over and say “starting now.” This is warped on many levels, I know, but what I’m trying to illustrate here is how easily I simply began again. More than three decades later, I don’t call anyone a stupidhead (to their face) and mostly remember my manners, though I do go ahead and curse freely. Two out of three ain’t bad. A saying my Grandma Weeze liked, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” So, here are some tips to help you keep that resolve. Starting now.

~Be realistic. The surest way to fall short is to make your goal unattainable. My resolution to read a book every other month is laughable, even now. I’m revising it to a book a season.

~Reward yourself. Treat yourself to something you enjoy that doesn’t contradict your resolution. So, rewarding myself for losing ten pounds by ordering a pizza is not the way to go.

~Tell everyone. Force yourself to be accountable. The more people that know and may ask you how it’s going, the better.

~Write it down. On paper. It makes it more official and you can’t change the parameters easily. Besides, I think there’s power in this. (See my previous post “Write it Down, Make it Happen.”)

~Get support. Don’t go it alone if you don’t have to. Particularly, if your resolution involves an addiction, like quitting smoking.

January 13, 2013 6

Speaking for the Trees

I come from a long line of tree huggers.

Both my father and aunt were officers in local chapters of The Audubon Society. You know — the bird-watchers? Or, as I’ve been corrected — the birders? My grandmother is an avid birder. She has over 3,000 different birds on her master “Birds of the World” life checklist. This should impress you if you know anything about birding. I don’t. I was disappointed to find out that number is well below half of the 9,000 some odd total. Then she informed me it would raise a birder’s eyebrows. I guess I thought she’d have more. I mean, she is 94. And she’s been all over the world. Literally. She’s even looked for birds in Madagascar. The real place, not the movie!

The point is, my family likes birds. I’ve been in the car any number of times when my grandmother (or any family member, really) has hollered for whoever was driving to pull over so everyone could pile out and count the number of winged things flitting about in some ditch.

But it’s not just birds. It’s also bobcats, timberwolves, gopher tortoises, sea turtles, manatees or any other creature of the wild, particularly if it’s endangered. We like to save things. My father saved manatees attracted by the warm waters into power plants and relocated hawks or eagles off power lines when he headed up the environmental department of Florida Power & Light years ago. My stepmother is the director of a local nature center. She educates children at her nature camp and leads sea turtle walks on the beach so the public can see nesting females. She and my father have an owl cage in their backyard and frozen mice to feed it in the freezer. They were married in a swamp (nature preserve.)

So with roots like these, it’s no wonder this past week’s DVD rental, The Lorax, had me in tears. A girlfriend called partway through it. “Are you watching a cartoon again?” For the record, it’s not a cartoon. It’s an animation.

And, in truth, as far as animations go — it’s no Pixar. The techniques weren’t new or unique, the writing wasn’t paticularly clever and there were no catchy musical numbers. But, the message got me. I was boo-hooing by the time the last truffela tree was chopped down and the sad bears, hacking birds and oily fish were sent away by the Lorax (voice of Danny DeVito.)

I’m passionate about the environment, yes. But, unlike most of my family, I don’t feel it’s what I’m here to do. So, I’ll do the next best thing: write about it. The power of the pen.

The reason your children or grandchildren (or you yourself) should see this environmentally themed film is so we’re not raising a bunch of uncaring, money-hungry citizens of Thneedville. I see it coming in the recent Play 60 campaign done by the NFL. Children are so busy playing with Game Boys and Wii dancing that they have to be reminded to go outside! We had to be told repeatedly it was time to come in! I remember entire imaginary rooms where I played for hours in the giant ficus trees that surrounded my childhood home. How many trees are there in your neighborhood that are even climbable?

I promised myself when I started this blog that I wouldn’t get too political. But, since Superstorm Sandy, most sane people have accepted global warming as fact now, right? Even the cover of Bloomberg Businessweek reported “It’s Global Warming, Stupid.”

So, I’ll end this post with a call to action. Get on the “going green” bandwagon. I’m not the Lorax, but I do what I can. Educate your children, change your ways. Volunteer your time or give your money. There are some great organizations like The Nature Conservancy or Environmental Defense Fund that are dedicated to protecting our natural places and its creatures. And remember the wise words of the good doctor…

“UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

~Dr. Seuss

January 6, 2013 8

All the Good in the World

You know I have to write about it. I need to write about it. Like the rest of the nation, I am deeply saddened by recent events in Newtown, CT. But, I thought it was too sad, too awful, to be included here. I like my blog posts to be positive and uplifting. After all, I prefer to get my news online or in the “week in review” segments of CBS Sunday Morning, right before the more benign human interest and feel-good stories.

But, I didn’t want an uninvited elephant lurking around these cyber pages either. Because, let’s face it. Like an anniversary of 9/11, we may go about our business not talking about it, but you know we’re all thinking about it.

In deciding to face the topic head on, the question then became — when? Last Sunday was too soon. I hadn’t processed my thoughts yet. Details were still coming to light. That left today. At first, I worried about the closeness of the upcoming holiday. As it would turn out, this past week brought out the good in this horrible story. The world and I needed that time to take the unthinkable and put our own positive and uplifting spin on it. And just in time for Christmas. Continue reading “All the Good in the World” →

December 23, 2012 4

‘Tis the Season

It’s been hard to get things done lately. Getting up at the unreasonable hour of 4:30 a.m. has lost its appeal, even for me, a self-proclaimed morning person. These cold and misty, foggy mornings are enough to make me want to stay under the duvet. Combine that with a little hot chocolate, Christmas cookies and the fact that it’s dark by 5:00 p.m., and it’s a wonder I accomplish anything. And why should I? Seriously folks, we need to take a tip from the bears this season and hibernate.

Several of my posts have been about getting organized, staying motivated or eating right. Not this one. Even the most health conscious among us need to just give it a rest. Literally. I used to have a yoga teacher who said we should follow nature’s lead. When the days get shorter and there’s less daylight — do less! Simple, sound advice that I, for one, plan on heeding, which is why if you ring my doorbell at 7:00 p.m., you’re likely to find me in my pajamas, if I come to the door at all.

The body and mind need time to recharge. Despite popular opinion, this is not the time to be running around after dark doing your holiday shopping. (Do what I do — shop online!) Why do you think so many people get sick this time of year? It’s all that dangerous candle burning people do trying to get everything done. Trust me, your loved ones would rather have you around healthy, than not. That really is the best present.

So consider this permission to do a little guilt-free indulging. Key words: guilt-free. Slip into your sweats, curl up with a blanket and watch that sappy Hallmark Channel Christmas special. (You know you want to.) And don’t forget, animals live off their stored fat during the winter, so I say it’s okay to put on a few pounds this time of year. Hey, what are New Year’s Resolutions for? Happy napping.

December 16, 2012 5

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