This morning held the first breath of winter here in our valley. Mt. Timpanogoos on the north end of our valley was hidden by low-slung, dark blue clouds. The mountains to the east were been swathed in white clouds backlit by the morning sun. These clouds poured out of the canyons as though they were the exhaled breath of the mountains. The peaks were covered with a dusting of snow--which I hope means we'll have a good winter for water and that our drought here may be ending. The mountains to the south were bare of clouds, covered by sunlight. It's days like this when I remember how I lost my heart to the landscape of the American West.
Tonight I found more pears laying in the wet grass under the tree. What is the tipping point? The point at which the fruit is soft enough, the sugar content at the right sweetness, the density of the fruit--what is it, short of wind, that makes the fruit drop on a calm day from the tree? Is that a mystery that Persephone knows?
When does she cross over into the world of the dead to join her husband? Is it on the night of Samhain--Halloween--when the veil between the dead and the living thins, even parts? Or does she linger among the pines, with holly in her hair?
I feel like I'm waking up from the long dry hot summer to the changing of autumn--it's the seasonal changes that have me observing details again as a writer and poet needs to. I've been in a numb, writer's block state this summer, on a treadmill with my novel. Things are moving again.
I have been surprised at how blind I'd become. Sunday down at the barn, Tasha asked me to help her tie together two sections of the metal corral. "The paddock horses are not where they are supposed to be," she said.
I looked out beyond the row of stalls to the paddock. I saw a few horses. Nothing looked out of place. "What do you mean?" I asked.
Tasha looked at me funny. "Look over there right in front of you," she said.
When I'd looked out into the paddock, I'd ignored the scene right in front of me. The corral segment that separated a stall from the paddock had been knocked open. Someone had bitten through the twine that kept the segments tied together. So in this stall stood most of the paddock horses, milling around the little old white Welsh pony who was boarding for just a few days. They wanted to pick on him. Tasha shooed the herd away, and gently coaxed the pony back into the stall. I helped her move the segments back together and then she tied them up with new twine.
Later I chatted with her as she sprayed fly repellent on her mare, Dream. I commented that the flies seemed worse than usual this week. Tasha said, "The barn swallows have gone south. They're not around to pick off the flies."
It was then I noticed how quiet the barn was. No bird song. No chittering. No swallows darting among the eaves of the barn. They have flown to Mexico or South America.
I decided in that moment I needed to awaken. Monday morning I waited in the turning lane on University Parkway for a red light to turn green so I could drive into UVU campus. In a few seconds, the rim of the sun appeared over Y Mount. It seemed to burst over the peaks as the earth turned, casting a pink glow onto cliffs. Joy and awe warmed through my blood.
When I was young, I could hike among those cliffs and watch sunrise, watch clouds roll in below me. Perhaps next year I'll be able to do that again. Who wants to come with me?
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Growing Old with Persephone in the Autumn
(Update: As of today, 17 pounds lost.)
We have one peach tree and one Bartlett pear tree in our backyard. They're small even though we've had them for years. The peach tree gave us enough this year for a peach crumble, a few peaches to snack on, and a tray of slices to freeze. The peaches were small and came on early in the withering heat of this summer. Still, they were beautiful with that rosy blush overlaid a sunny yellow--it's as though in ripening, nature distilled the color of sunsets and sunrises, sweetened it with the taste of early morning coolness and moisture. When I pulled the last of the peaches from the burgeoning tree, it seemed that Persephone was there, watching from the shadows of our juniper trees, with dark green eyes and nutmeg hair.
For me, there has always been a distinctly feminine feel in the air of spring and autumn. Some might call it Gia, the spirit of Mother Earth; others might say it is a female goddess. I don't know--but in a corner of my mind I feel as though I should leave out a bowl of wine for the moon to reflect in and a plate of vegetables and fruit from our small garden as an offering.
Our pears are really coming on this week. Every day more fall to the ground than did the day before. The pear tree is leaning over like a heavily pregnant woman about to give birth. The first batch of pears were ripe, but mushy on the inside. The ones we're harvesting now are beautiful through and through with a smooth, mellow taste. I love pears with almonds or walnuts in yogurt or oatmeal with just a dash of cinnamon and maple syrup. Each fruit that is dropped upon the ground seems a small divine gift. Persephone's soft breath is in the hissing of dry leaves against the fence, the barely audible plop of fruit falling from branch to ground.
I am glad that even though my time of fertility is past, that I still feel that mysterious female presence of the Earth at this time of year. I felt it mostly keenly when pregnant with my daughter. She was due in September, but came in late August. I remember sitting on my front porch in the cooler evenings of late August, resting my hands on my swollen belly, feeling my daughter move. Geese flew in formation, practicing for their autumn migration. It seemed right that I should be giving birth during the season of harvest.
Two years later, we had an incredible harvest moon one evening in late autumn. The moon was huge and it was green! I scooped up my two-year-old daughter and walked out into the humming night. I thought of how the moon had been worshipped as a female goddess in centuries past.The moon, looming as close as it would get that year, had a spiritual presence I cannot give words to. I pointed out the moon to my daughter. I wish I could remember whether she said anything--but she was awestruck, then snuggled in close to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. It was wordless thanks and recognition that the two of us, both women, felt a tie to one another and to the feminine side of nature.
As I slipped into middle-age and left the child-bearing years behind, I felt a deep sadness at first--there would be no more babies growing inside me, no more feeling the butterfly movement beneath my skin, no more quiet moments nursing. I had always dreamed of four children--but when you marry and have children in your mid- and late thirties, you have to recalibrate your expectations. I focused on the two great kids I have.
They're both in high school now--one is a senior and the other a freshman. They still need me, but not as constantly as they did when they were little. I have emotional and physical space for the things I need to do for myself--to pursue my creative writing, to develop my career, and to get into good shape so I can enter old age as healthy and fit within whatever parameters are in my control.
I wrote in an earlier post that at times my mind thinks I'm still a young woman who can still do things that my body is no longer up to. I think that by getting into shape and becoming healthier, the disparity between my mind and body will go away. I will become in tune physically and mentally with the woman I am becoming. Yes, I'm aging--but I am, you are, all of us, are works in progress until the day we take our last breath. And then who knows what journey is beyond that? Living fully is surely preparation for that unknown flight.
We have one peach tree and one Bartlett pear tree in our backyard. They're small even though we've had them for years. The peach tree gave us enough this year for a peach crumble, a few peaches to snack on, and a tray of slices to freeze. The peaches were small and came on early in the withering heat of this summer. Still, they were beautiful with that rosy blush overlaid a sunny yellow--it's as though in ripening, nature distilled the color of sunsets and sunrises, sweetened it with the taste of early morning coolness and moisture. When I pulled the last of the peaches from the burgeoning tree, it seemed that Persephone was there, watching from the shadows of our juniper trees, with dark green eyes and nutmeg hair.
For me, there has always been a distinctly feminine feel in the air of spring and autumn. Some might call it Gia, the spirit of Mother Earth; others might say it is a female goddess. I don't know--but in a corner of my mind I feel as though I should leave out a bowl of wine for the moon to reflect in and a plate of vegetables and fruit from our small garden as an offering.
Our pears are really coming on this week. Every day more fall to the ground than did the day before. The pear tree is leaning over like a heavily pregnant woman about to give birth. The first batch of pears were ripe, but mushy on the inside. The ones we're harvesting now are beautiful through and through with a smooth, mellow taste. I love pears with almonds or walnuts in yogurt or oatmeal with just a dash of cinnamon and maple syrup. Each fruit that is dropped upon the ground seems a small divine gift. Persephone's soft breath is in the hissing of dry leaves against the fence, the barely audible plop of fruit falling from branch to ground.
I am glad that even though my time of fertility is past, that I still feel that mysterious female presence of the Earth at this time of year. I felt it mostly keenly when pregnant with my daughter. She was due in September, but came in late August. I remember sitting on my front porch in the cooler evenings of late August, resting my hands on my swollen belly, feeling my daughter move. Geese flew in formation, practicing for their autumn migration. It seemed right that I should be giving birth during the season of harvest.
Two years later, we had an incredible harvest moon one evening in late autumn. The moon was huge and it was green! I scooped up my two-year-old daughter and walked out into the humming night. I thought of how the moon had been worshipped as a female goddess in centuries past.The moon, looming as close as it would get that year, had a spiritual presence I cannot give words to. I pointed out the moon to my daughter. I wish I could remember whether she said anything--but she was awestruck, then snuggled in close to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. It was wordless thanks and recognition that the two of us, both women, felt a tie to one another and to the feminine side of nature.
As I slipped into middle-age and left the child-bearing years behind, I felt a deep sadness at first--there would be no more babies growing inside me, no more feeling the butterfly movement beneath my skin, no more quiet moments nursing. I had always dreamed of four children--but when you marry and have children in your mid- and late thirties, you have to recalibrate your expectations. I focused on the two great kids I have.
They're both in high school now--one is a senior and the other a freshman. They still need me, but not as constantly as they did when they were little. I have emotional and physical space for the things I need to do for myself--to pursue my creative writing, to develop my career, and to get into good shape so I can enter old age as healthy and fit within whatever parameters are in my control.
I wrote in an earlier post that at times my mind thinks I'm still a young woman who can still do things that my body is no longer up to. I think that by getting into shape and becoming healthier, the disparity between my mind and body will go away. I will become in tune physically and mentally with the woman I am becoming. Yes, I'm aging--but I am, you are, all of us, are works in progress until the day we take our last breath. And then who knows what journey is beyond that? Living fully is surely preparation for that unknown flight.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
On a Journey with my Daughter
My fourteen-year-old daughter joined her high school's color guard this fall. In August, she survived almost two weeks of band camp, nine hours a day, with an hour lunch for break. Every week, she has three afternoons of practice after school; on top of this she has a gym class, a modern dance class (at school), has an English jumping lesson once a week and rides another day of the week after she does barn chores. My daughter has always been at a good weight and she's a beautiful girl. Yes, I'm her mother, deal with it--but others will tell you she's very pretty as well. :-)
She's noticed after a month of doing all this that she's starting to get really toned up and finds it easier and easier to stretch, dance, and march for hours. In addition, all that dance exercise has made her stronger for her English jumping class. Anyone who has ridden in an English saddle knows what a workout that type of riding is for your butt, thighs, and calves. My daughter is more confident, "more comfortable in her skin," it seems. She really has become even more radiant with all this exercise.
She's been very supportive and encouraging of my efforts to lose weight and to take up riding lessons. She'll give me advice on how to handle the horse, how to post a trot, etc.
She's got good taste in clothes, too, which is coming in handy because as I lose weight, I am having to weed out my wardrobe and acquire new pieces. I'm almost out of the dress size I started my weight loss in--I'd say another 10 or 15 lbs. and I'll be down to the next dress size. As I modify my wardrobe accordingly, I consult with my daughter on various outfit combinations. She's been enthusiastic and helpful. I think she's been surprised at times that I may have some fashion sense. (I can just hear her snickering as she reads this.)
When I lost 50 lbs. six years ago, I became interested in clothes again, in styling my hair differently, in wearing jewelry. Now I realize I'm 52--but ladies, I ain't dead yet and neither are you! I get so frustrated by the rather matronly clothes out in the stores for those of us who are "plus-sized." I certainly don't intend to wear a leather mini-skirt and thigh-high boots (I can hear my daughter snickering once again), but would it be possible to have a little style?!
Yesterday when I went grocery shopping at Walmart, I browsed through the Misses clothing section. There was a slate blue sweater for just $22 that would go with two pairs of dress pants I own. I decided when I drop down into the next dress size, I'll treat myself to that sweater. I also have a deal on with a dear friend at work--she's in her mid-40s and is just a stunningly beautiful woman. She has stayed fit; one of her favorite things to do is hit the resale shops in the wealthier parts of Salt Lake City and buy gently used designer clothes at less than Walmart prices. Our deal: when I reach my weight goal, we're gonna fight over the skirts at Deseret Industries.
About a month ago I bought a used dress at Savers. It's one of those gauzy maxi dresses and looks rather "artsy." It's in the next size down for me and I only paid $4 for it. The day I can slip that dress on, I'll know I've reached a very important milestone for health and fitness.
I'm almost over my bronchitis--when I am ready in a few days, I'll break out that yoga DVD and start the yoga challenge my mother issued me. No way am I gonna let a 78-year-old woman show me up--well, she already does. Guess I'll just be catching up to her!
She's noticed after a month of doing all this that she's starting to get really toned up and finds it easier and easier to stretch, dance, and march for hours. In addition, all that dance exercise has made her stronger for her English jumping class. Anyone who has ridden in an English saddle knows what a workout that type of riding is for your butt, thighs, and calves. My daughter is more confident, "more comfortable in her skin," it seems. She really has become even more radiant with all this exercise.
She's been very supportive and encouraging of my efforts to lose weight and to take up riding lessons. She'll give me advice on how to handle the horse, how to post a trot, etc.
She's got good taste in clothes, too, which is coming in handy because as I lose weight, I am having to weed out my wardrobe and acquire new pieces. I'm almost out of the dress size I started my weight loss in--I'd say another 10 or 15 lbs. and I'll be down to the next dress size. As I modify my wardrobe accordingly, I consult with my daughter on various outfit combinations. She's been enthusiastic and helpful. I think she's been surprised at times that I may have some fashion sense. (I can just hear her snickering as she reads this.)
When I lost 50 lbs. six years ago, I became interested in clothes again, in styling my hair differently, in wearing jewelry. Now I realize I'm 52--but ladies, I ain't dead yet and neither are you! I get so frustrated by the rather matronly clothes out in the stores for those of us who are "plus-sized." I certainly don't intend to wear a leather mini-skirt and thigh-high boots (I can hear my daughter snickering once again), but would it be possible to have a little style?!
Yesterday when I went grocery shopping at Walmart, I browsed through the Misses clothing section. There was a slate blue sweater for just $22 that would go with two pairs of dress pants I own. I decided when I drop down into the next dress size, I'll treat myself to that sweater. I also have a deal on with a dear friend at work--she's in her mid-40s and is just a stunningly beautiful woman. She has stayed fit; one of her favorite things to do is hit the resale shops in the wealthier parts of Salt Lake City and buy gently used designer clothes at less than Walmart prices. Our deal: when I reach my weight goal, we're gonna fight over the skirts at Deseret Industries.
About a month ago I bought a used dress at Savers. It's one of those gauzy maxi dresses and looks rather "artsy." It's in the next size down for me and I only paid $4 for it. The day I can slip that dress on, I'll know I've reached a very important milestone for health and fitness.
I'm almost over my bronchitis--when I am ready in a few days, I'll break out that yoga DVD and start the yoga challenge my mother issued me. No way am I gonna let a 78-year-old woman show me up--well, she already does. Guess I'll just be catching up to her!
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Calories and Carbs, Oh My!
If you've tried to diet in the past, did you feel overwhelmed with trying to track calories, carbs, fats, and so on? It can be very tedious and frustrating. Seems like the best approach is for each person to find out what system works best for them. A few years ago the South Beach Diet worked really well for me. I'm sure it would again, but I'm not up to doing the restrictive Phase 1 right now.
So how does one take the fear and tediousness out of this dieting thing? "Keep it simple, stupid," is what works best for me. I suspect it works best for most of us! Because I'm pre-diabetic, I have to count garbs as well as watch my fat and calorie intake. Tracking what I eat each day using the "My Health Tracker" feature at prevention.com makes me aware of what I'm eating and what the nutritional content of each food is. Many of us are probably overeating in ways we don't realize until we start to track what we eat. Another spiffy feature of the "My Health Tracker" is that you can track your physical activity and how many calories you burned and you can log your weight and measurements. It's very motivating to see those numbers changing over time.
I read a great little article recently over at eatingwell.com that makes calculating the calories you need to maintain or lose weight very simple. (Eating Well is a magazine that I like very much--it emphasizes cooking with fresh, seasonal ingredients.) The article contains link to sample menus to give you some ideas to make a lower-calorie diet tasty and interesting.
As of today I've lost 16 pounds over three months. This week, co-workers commented that I looked thinner and asked what I've been doing. There is no magic pill here--the tea regimen I'm on is helping, but I've tried to be more active and to be mindful of what I eat.
I've taken a slow start--first I implemented the tea regimen. Then I started tracking what I ate. Slowly I began to add more and more physical activity. I cannot emphasize how important it has been for me to stretch every morning and evening. Am I consistent? Usually--I'll miss a day here and there and when I do I know it. A talented chiropractor I went to for my back problems taught me some simple stretches that keep me free of back pain. I can do yard work and barn chores and not wake up in pain the next day.
Because I am older, out of shape, and now have a back problem that will never go away, I have to pace myself. Just two years ago I could work all day in the yard--I could mow, then prune bushes, weed flowerbeds. Now I have to decide what I'll be doing that day--do I need to mow? Or do I need to weed? I can't do both anymore. I have to pace myself. Maybe next year when I'm in better shape I can run a marathon, mow, and weed in one day. (I can dream, can't I?)
If anyone wants more information on the tea regimen I'm following, please leave a comment below with your request and I'll devote a post to it.
Remember, you are worth taking care of! If you don't take care of yourself, you'll have nothing left to give to your family, friends, co-workers, or anyone else in your life.
So how does one take the fear and tediousness out of this dieting thing? "Keep it simple, stupid," is what works best for me. I suspect it works best for most of us! Because I'm pre-diabetic, I have to count garbs as well as watch my fat and calorie intake. Tracking what I eat each day using the "My Health Tracker" feature at prevention.com makes me aware of what I'm eating and what the nutritional content of each food is. Many of us are probably overeating in ways we don't realize until we start to track what we eat. Another spiffy feature of the "My Health Tracker" is that you can track your physical activity and how many calories you burned and you can log your weight and measurements. It's very motivating to see those numbers changing over time.
I read a great little article recently over at eatingwell.com that makes calculating the calories you need to maintain or lose weight very simple. (Eating Well is a magazine that I like very much--it emphasizes cooking with fresh, seasonal ingredients.) The article contains link to sample menus to give you some ideas to make a lower-calorie diet tasty and interesting.
As of today I've lost 16 pounds over three months. This week, co-workers commented that I looked thinner and asked what I've been doing. There is no magic pill here--the tea regimen I'm on is helping, but I've tried to be more active and to be mindful of what I eat.
I've taken a slow start--first I implemented the tea regimen. Then I started tracking what I ate. Slowly I began to add more and more physical activity. I cannot emphasize how important it has been for me to stretch every morning and evening. Am I consistent? Usually--I'll miss a day here and there and when I do I know it. A talented chiropractor I went to for my back problems taught me some simple stretches that keep me free of back pain. I can do yard work and barn chores and not wake up in pain the next day.
Because I am older, out of shape, and now have a back problem that will never go away, I have to pace myself. Just two years ago I could work all day in the yard--I could mow, then prune bushes, weed flowerbeds. Now I have to decide what I'll be doing that day--do I need to mow? Or do I need to weed? I can't do both anymore. I have to pace myself. Maybe next year when I'm in better shape I can run a marathon, mow, and weed in one day. (I can dream, can't I?)
If anyone wants more information on the tea regimen I'm following, please leave a comment below with your request and I'll devote a post to it.
Remember, you are worth taking care of! If you don't take care of yourself, you'll have nothing left to give to your family, friends, co-workers, or anyone else in your life.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Overdoing it and the Price of Obesity
My first blog last Sunday was so hopeful and positive! I wrote about how I’ve had to learn to pace myself
with physical activity. Apparently, I’m still learning the hard way—I really
overdid it last Sunday and the viral bug I’d had a few days before blossomed
into bronchitis. I felt so good last Sunday—I did an hour and a half of barn
chores, an hour of riding lessons, and then mowed the front yard for exercise.
Oh boy—I realized halfway through mowing I’d overdone it. I was sick on Monday
and Tuesday, spending most of the day in bed. Today I went into work around
noon and by five I was exhausted.
One bright spot in my day was putting on a blouse I hadn’t
worn in a while—it was hanging off me. My husband noticed and commented how
usually this shirt was a bit snug on me.
I’m 15 pounds down and have 50 more to go! In six months I have a check-up with my
diabetes counselor—I am very curious to see what my weight, my blood sugar
levels, and cholesterol levels will be at that time. I really must keep going!
Even just dropping the 15 pounds has made me feel better and lighter on my feet
though I am still what is considered obese. I’ll get there.
I read an interesting article on the price of being overweight
at http://fitbie.msn.com/slideshow/price-being-overweight
today. I wasn’t surprised that being overweight can be costly—it’s how
expensive it can be and in what spending areas that surprised me. According to George Washington University
researchers, overweight women can spend up to an extra $4,879 a year because of
their weight. For myself alone, I’d be
saving several hundred dollars a year if I didn’t have to take a special
formulation of metformin for my pre-diabetes—that’s not counting the cholesterol
medications and CPAP machine I’m on at the moment. All of this is due to my
being overweight.
The article also discussed how overweight people pay more
for gas, missed days at work, clothing, and life insurance.
I really hope no one will take this post as a tirade against
overweight people. In my 20s and early 30s, I pitied and looked down upon
overweight people. In my immaturity, I assumed people became overweight because
they were lazy and undisciplined. Oh how the mighty have fallen! Now I know
better! We become overweight for a variety of reasons—lack of time to exercise,
desk jobs, motherhood, stress, unhappiness in key areas of our lives, metabolic
changes as we age.
In my mid-40s I went on the South Beach Diet; I lost 50 lbs.
and kept it off for three years. Then I had a devastating, highly emotional
disappointment, which I will not relate here. Suffice it to say, this led me to
start eating again. I regained twenty pounds in two months! On a gut feeling, I
had a check-up and my doctor checked my blood sugar levels—I had become
pre-diabetic. I have struggled ever since then to lose weight. I think that
deep down I didn’t think I was worth taking care of. I believe many women, for
various reasons, come to this subconscious conclusion—that their dreams aren’t
worth tending to, that their lives have meaning only in the context of their
husbands’ or children’s’ lives.
I recently was able to visit with a dear friend who two years
ago left a marriage in which she was the one who had given up all her life
dreams, in which she was the one who turned herself inside out to please her husband,
and to try to hold her family together. She finally walked away—and while it’s
been very difficult to climb out of her depression and grief, she did it. She
recently found a career in which she can use her unique skills. She’s lost
weight, cut her hair, and looks very stylish and attractive. She looks younger
than she did when she was in her marriage. She too, is in her 50s like I am,
but she looks to be in her forties now!
Another friend once said to me that middle age had gone like
this for her: “the figure-it-out forties and the f_ck it fifties.” I finally understand
what she means now. With whatever time I
have left on earth, I need to be living it in the way that brings me the most
joy and fulfillment and allows me to make
whatever contribution I can to the lives of those around me. To have my
health back will allow me to do that in the fullest way.
Here’s to all of us,
ladies!
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Down at the Barn
I'm new to blogging. Being a writer, I suppose starting a blog is an innate thing to do. Ever since I made a goal to (1) lose weight and get off most of my middle-age medications and (2) take riding lessons, I've wanted to blog about my attempts. I'm not sure where this is going to lead, but I sense that both activities have a spiritual impetus to them.
I'm 52--I've learned the hard way that my spirit still thinks I can do the things I did at 30--telemark in the back country, hike for hours . . I can't anymore. I don't know if I ever again. I miss the feeling of being healthy. I have become overweight to the point that some old friends don't recognize me when they seem me after years of no physical contact. I have a back problem and the start of arthritis in one knee that I have to be careful with.
This is not how I planned to age. My mother and her parents aged beautifully. In his 80s, my grandpa was climbing ladders, doing yard work, playing in a band that visited nursing homes and senior citizen centers. Grandma went to exercise class until she turned 90 I believe. My mom is a healthy 78--she's slim, fit, exercises, and eats right. That is how I want to age.
Once when cross-country skiing in the Uintahs, my friends and I met two women who looked to be in their late 40s or early 50s. They were both slim, and had long gray hair braided back. They were energetic, youthful. I thought to myself, "That's how I want to be."
I don't know if I can cross-county ski again--my knees may too shot after years of being overweight. Same goes for hiking--I am going to have to experiment with these activities after I'm in better shape and weigh less. I'd like to do physical activities with both my teenagers. Conor likes x-country skiing and racquetball. Niamh likes to run, dance, and ride horses.
For now, I'm walking a mile that is enclosed where I work--I do this twice a week. On other days I try to walk my dogs or do yard work. One day a week I do barn chores at the stable where my daughter rides. In exchange, I get a free riding lesson from Tasha and my daughter, Niamh, gets to ride the big bay gelding she's lost her heart too.
My mom challenged me to yoga--the DVD arrived yesterday and so we'll be taking it up together 1500 miles apart. I love my mother--she's still taking care of me even now. She inspires me.
I have also begun a tea regimen developed by Dr. Oz and an herbalist. It involves pu erh tea (black tea), white tea (made from the buds of the tea plant), dandelion root tea, and bilberry tea. In addition, I began journeling what I eat most every day online at Prevention.com. It helps me track my carbs as I am pre-diabetic. So far I have lost 14 pounds.
Did I also mention I have high cholesterol? Good heavens, I will be dead soon if I don't get a handle on all this. I have so much to live for--I have two great kids in high school, I have a very fulfilling job, I want to live to see my grand kids and I am writing my first novel. (Yes, I know, it's about time!)
Some may think I'm nuts for wanting to spend my Sunday mornings down at "the barn" as the stables where my daughter rides is called. The barn is a little oasis in the middle of Lindon, Utah. It's right off busy State Street--the driveway goes way back. There's a field of alfalfa in front of the indoor arena and stalls. Behind the barn/arena is a large pasture surrounded by tall trees on two sides. Mares and their foals and any yearlings get to graze and play out in this pasture.
Niamh and I help Tasha feed and water the horses. We muck stalls when needed as well. Today we watched three flocks of geese, one after another, fly in low over State Street, over the alfalfa field, and the pasture behind the barn. I assume the flocks headed back out to the lake--I could be wrong. I wonder how long geese practice their formations before they embark on their migration south for the winter?
We've seen hawks circling the pasture on other days. Tasha has seen a huge owl--I'd like to see that. During the summer, the barn is full of swallows chittering, dipping and flying. I wonder if they go to Mexico for the winter as that one child's book describes?
Helping with barn chores gives me a chance to be close to the horses. I never took up barn chores with the idea that I'd get free lessons--Tasha graciously offered them to me after I showed up consistently. I began going with Niamh to help her do barn chores in exchange for extra riding time on Sioux. This is in addition to her paid lesson, which is once a week. I'd love to lease or buy a horse for her--but it's not possible at the moment.
A few times when I've mucked stalls, I've felt warm, grassy breath on my neck. I turn around to find a horse nudging me, wanting attention. They love having the top of their foreheads scratched--this makes them relax. Some even give you a horse hug--they'll arch their necks around you. I love that. You have to be careful too-they might decide to nip you. It's their way of grooming if I remember right. One evening I watched Shauna, the owner of the stable and my daughter's instructor, relax an anxious horse by rubbing his ears a certain way. It was amazing to watch.
When I fill up the water buckets with fresh water, some of the horses like to play in the water. Bitsy, the chestnut mare, a tall pony, that I ride, likes to poke her nose in the stream from the hose. Another horse dips his nose into the water bucket, stirring the water in the same direction the hose is sending it! Others act terribly annoyed and pace to the back of their stall. Each one is so individual.
Today was my second lesson. I managed to get my leg into the stirrup this time, but still couldn't pull myself all the way up. I had to use the steps again. This will change, I know--I'm pacing myself. Bitsy is such a calm, patient horse. I informed her before I got on that I'd lost more weight this week just for her. I put the blanket on, and Tasha hoisted the saddle up. She reviewed the names of the parts of the girth: the off-billet, the cinch, and the latigo. (http://www.western-saddle-guide.com/saddle-parts.html). I attached the cinch and knotted it up, remembering to leave enough room between the horse and the strap for my fingers. Then Tasha had me lead Bitsy around the arena to loosen her up and see if any adjustments needed to be made to the cinch. I don't know how to adjust the stirrups yet.
Tasha had me try to ease the bridle on and get the bit into Bitsy's mouth. I almost got it, but Tasha had to show me the finer points again. Today, Tasha taught me the one-rein emergency stop and how to post and trot. I got the posting rhythm on my first try--on my second try I simply could not get on the correct diagonal (yea, I know what that means now!). Tasha is very patient and thorough.
It seems the key to much of riding is keeping your pelvis tilted in to support your back and give you correct posture. At the same time, you have to learn to relax and get into the horse's rhythm.
I don't know how far I'll take riding lessons--much depends on Tasha's time and availability. I'm quite willing to work in exchange for them. I enjoy learning how to communicate with a horse in this manner. For four years I've watched Niamh become a masterful rider. When she was a small 4th grader sailing over jumps on 1,000 pound-plus creatures, my heart would go sailing over with her. I enjoy having this bond with her--it's something the two of us can share and I like that.
Maybe when I live with her when I'm an old lady, I can earn my keep by mucking stalls.
Tonight Niamh and I were conjecturing what horses dream about at night. We know our dogs dream--they bark and whine in their sleep. Does Sioux, Niamh's big bay gelding, dream of her feeding him sweet apples, or one strand of hay at a time, which he seems to love? Does he dream about running with deer on mountain trails (his owner Jerson likes to take him trail riding).
I know what I dream about--being 60 pounds lighter and healthier, being in shape so I can do things without being sore or worn out. I'd like to be free of medications if I can. Who knows what I'll be able to do in a year. That's the fun mystery.
I'm 52--I've learned the hard way that my spirit still thinks I can do the things I did at 30--telemark in the back country, hike for hours . . I can't anymore. I don't know if I ever again. I miss the feeling of being healthy. I have become overweight to the point that some old friends don't recognize me when they seem me after years of no physical contact. I have a back problem and the start of arthritis in one knee that I have to be careful with.
This is not how I planned to age. My mother and her parents aged beautifully. In his 80s, my grandpa was climbing ladders, doing yard work, playing in a band that visited nursing homes and senior citizen centers. Grandma went to exercise class until she turned 90 I believe. My mom is a healthy 78--she's slim, fit, exercises, and eats right. That is how I want to age.
Once when cross-country skiing in the Uintahs, my friends and I met two women who looked to be in their late 40s or early 50s. They were both slim, and had long gray hair braided back. They were energetic, youthful. I thought to myself, "That's how I want to be."
I don't know if I can cross-county ski again--my knees may too shot after years of being overweight. Same goes for hiking--I am going to have to experiment with these activities after I'm in better shape and weigh less. I'd like to do physical activities with both my teenagers. Conor likes x-country skiing and racquetball. Niamh likes to run, dance, and ride horses.
For now, I'm walking a mile that is enclosed where I work--I do this twice a week. On other days I try to walk my dogs or do yard work. One day a week I do barn chores at the stable where my daughter rides. In exchange, I get a free riding lesson from Tasha and my daughter, Niamh, gets to ride the big bay gelding she's lost her heart too.
My mom challenged me to yoga--the DVD arrived yesterday and so we'll be taking it up together 1500 miles apart. I love my mother--she's still taking care of me even now. She inspires me.
I have also begun a tea regimen developed by Dr. Oz and an herbalist. It involves pu erh tea (black tea), white tea (made from the buds of the tea plant), dandelion root tea, and bilberry tea. In addition, I began journeling what I eat most every day online at Prevention.com. It helps me track my carbs as I am pre-diabetic. So far I have lost 14 pounds.
Did I also mention I have high cholesterol? Good heavens, I will be dead soon if I don't get a handle on all this. I have so much to live for--I have two great kids in high school, I have a very fulfilling job, I want to live to see my grand kids and I am writing my first novel. (Yes, I know, it's about time!)
Some may think I'm nuts for wanting to spend my Sunday mornings down at "the barn" as the stables where my daughter rides is called. The barn is a little oasis in the middle of Lindon, Utah. It's right off busy State Street--the driveway goes way back. There's a field of alfalfa in front of the indoor arena and stalls. Behind the barn/arena is a large pasture surrounded by tall trees on two sides. Mares and their foals and any yearlings get to graze and play out in this pasture.
Niamh and I help Tasha feed and water the horses. We muck stalls when needed as well. Today we watched three flocks of geese, one after another, fly in low over State Street, over the alfalfa field, and the pasture behind the barn. I assume the flocks headed back out to the lake--I could be wrong. I wonder how long geese practice their formations before they embark on their migration south for the winter?
We've seen hawks circling the pasture on other days. Tasha has seen a huge owl--I'd like to see that. During the summer, the barn is full of swallows chittering, dipping and flying. I wonder if they go to Mexico for the winter as that one child's book describes?
Helping with barn chores gives me a chance to be close to the horses. I never took up barn chores with the idea that I'd get free lessons--Tasha graciously offered them to me after I showed up consistently. I began going with Niamh to help her do barn chores in exchange for extra riding time on Sioux. This is in addition to her paid lesson, which is once a week. I'd love to lease or buy a horse for her--but it's not possible at the moment.
A few times when I've mucked stalls, I've felt warm, grassy breath on my neck. I turn around to find a horse nudging me, wanting attention. They love having the top of their foreheads scratched--this makes them relax. Some even give you a horse hug--they'll arch their necks around you. I love that. You have to be careful too-they might decide to nip you. It's their way of grooming if I remember right. One evening I watched Shauna, the owner of the stable and my daughter's instructor, relax an anxious horse by rubbing his ears a certain way. It was amazing to watch.
When I fill up the water buckets with fresh water, some of the horses like to play in the water. Bitsy, the chestnut mare, a tall pony, that I ride, likes to poke her nose in the stream from the hose. Another horse dips his nose into the water bucket, stirring the water in the same direction the hose is sending it! Others act terribly annoyed and pace to the back of their stall. Each one is so individual.
Today was my second lesson. I managed to get my leg into the stirrup this time, but still couldn't pull myself all the way up. I had to use the steps again. This will change, I know--I'm pacing myself. Bitsy is such a calm, patient horse. I informed her before I got on that I'd lost more weight this week just for her. I put the blanket on, and Tasha hoisted the saddle up. She reviewed the names of the parts of the girth: the off-billet, the cinch, and the latigo. (http://www.western-saddle-guide.com/saddle-parts.html). I attached the cinch and knotted it up, remembering to leave enough room between the horse and the strap for my fingers. Then Tasha had me lead Bitsy around the arena to loosen her up and see if any adjustments needed to be made to the cinch. I don't know how to adjust the stirrups yet.
Tasha had me try to ease the bridle on and get the bit into Bitsy's mouth. I almost got it, but Tasha had to show me the finer points again. Today, Tasha taught me the one-rein emergency stop and how to post and trot. I got the posting rhythm on my first try--on my second try I simply could not get on the correct diagonal (yea, I know what that means now!). Tasha is very patient and thorough.
It seems the key to much of riding is keeping your pelvis tilted in to support your back and give you correct posture. At the same time, you have to learn to relax and get into the horse's rhythm.
I don't know how far I'll take riding lessons--much depends on Tasha's time and availability. I'm quite willing to work in exchange for them. I enjoy learning how to communicate with a horse in this manner. For four years I've watched Niamh become a masterful rider. When she was a small 4th grader sailing over jumps on 1,000 pound-plus creatures, my heart would go sailing over with her. I enjoy having this bond with her--it's something the two of us can share and I like that.
Maybe when I live with her when I'm an old lady, I can earn my keep by mucking stalls.
Tonight Niamh and I were conjecturing what horses dream about at night. We know our dogs dream--they bark and whine in their sleep. Does Sioux, Niamh's big bay gelding, dream of her feeding him sweet apples, or one strand of hay at a time, which he seems to love? Does he dream about running with deer on mountain trails (his owner Jerson likes to take him trail riding).
I know what I dream about--being 60 pounds lighter and healthier, being in shape so I can do things without being sore or worn out. I'd like to be free of medications if I can. Who knows what I'll be able to do in a year. That's the fun mystery.
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