Nu-nu

Continuing with her nesting, Herself has tidied the remainder of the kitchen cabinets and the drawers.  She threw away some things, rearranged other things, and generally organized the rest of the things. It is quite pleasant to open a drawer or a cabinet and find exactly what one needs now.

In the back of one cabinet, she found a pacifier, still in its packaging.  Affectionately referred to as a "nu-nu," a pacifier was a staple in the household for a long, long time.  All of the Offspring were extremely orally inclined as infants and toddlers; they spent a great deal of time sucking on thumbs, fingers, and nu-nus, as well as attempting to put all kinds of non-comestible items into their mouths.  Herself always kept a spare emergency nu-nu handy in her purse.

It has been ages since anyone in the house used a pacifier, and Herself was a tad wistful at the discovery of the nu-nu.  Mercifully, though, she is not all verklempt.  I think she has almost completely come to terms with the fact that there will never be another baby in the household. 

All the same, she would be pleased to be able to hold someone else's baby for a little while.

Happy Place

Sometimes, a picture captures a moment so beautifully that it refreshes the soul just as much as the moment itself did.  I present to you one such picture from camping a few weeks ago.  We are ever so grateful to our Cherished Friend, the photographer. Thank you.

Photograph Copyright 2011, Mediocria Firma.

Heavy

Today's post is brought to you by The Jeans That Are Uncomfortably Tight.

Herself has gained a bit of weight.  How much, she does not know; she has kept her New Year's resolution not to step on the scale, in an attempt to break herself of her borderline obsession about about the numbers.  What she does know, though, is that her favorite jeans -- which used to be fairly comfortable --are just a hair too constrictive right now.

Let the self-loathing commence!

She is angry at herself for her clear lack of self-discipline.  She should exercise more faithfully, she should watch her diet more carefully.   She currently is spending time forging a new set of rules in her head to try to lower her caloric intake and increase her activity.  It should help.  Losing weight is always a slow process, though, particularly in women of a certain age.  She's set a reasonable goal of several weeks out to be able to wear her favorite jeans again.  I think she can do it.

The hardest part, though, will be to change her eating habits.  For she is a stress eater, and she turns to food in times of distress.  Self-comfort with carbohydrates. 

Life has been a bit tricky of late.  There have been cookies.

She supposes in some ways that it must be like trying to stop smoking:  just as there are certain circumstances - during stress, as a habit, or even with pleasure, too - under which people feel a need for a cigarette, there are particular times when she craves food. She needs to find a replacement for those times.  But what?  Jog around the house instead? Drink a glass of water? Chew gum? (She does not chew gum.  It is yucky.) 

She tells herself, maybe if she just grew a *backbone*, she could exhibit some self-control and would not have this problem.

We know it's not quite that simple, though.

She is trying.  It will be one day at a time.  Baby steps.

Wish her luck.  

Nesting

During the past couple of days, Herself has spent several hours cleaning and tidying the refrigerator, the freezer, and the pantry.  She also eliminated the large pile of orts and gobbets of family life that had taken up residence on the kitchen counter and was slowing growing, like a fungus.  Her plan for tomorrow is to rearrange the pots and pans in the cabinets. 

It's a bit odd.  I think that she is feeling a seasonal nesting need -- like a chipmunk preparing for winter -- and just happened to start in the kitchen.  She plans to spend one hour each morning on a small project, with the long-term goal of weeding and organizing the rest of the house, one room at a time.  She is enjoying the progress she has made so far; I think it will continue to be fruitful. We shall see!

Emerging

Arthropods -- insects, spiders, crustaceans -- shed a skin in order to grow.  It's an odd process in which a creature works its way out of its old covering and moves onward, leaving an empty shell behind.  We came across evidence of such growth in one of our adventures, when the horde of cicadas that buzzed so noisily left a multitude of surprisingly sturdy casings clinging to the trees in which they had perched.



While people -- mercifully -- do not literally shed their skins, there are times when humans do undergo similarly significant growth. 

Herself knows that she is many ways very different from how she was even a few years ago.  It has been a gradual transformation; there has been no precipitating event, no watershed moment to which she can point.  What is certain, though, is that she has changed.  Even those close to her have noticed:  her mother-in-law (a truly lovely woman) has stated that Herself has blossomed and "come out of her shell."  And indeed, she has. How so?  It is difficult to describe. 

She is more likely to speak her mind.  She questions more, and expects differently. She occasionally puts her own needs ahead -- not necessarily first, but certainly higher up than ever before.  She is less tolerant of unkind words and actions, and actively takes steps to address issues that hurt her or those whom she loves.  She appreciates the unique qualities of each member of her family more.  She has found remarkable reserves of patience and kindness.  She has reached out to other people in ways she would never have dared do before, and she is joyous and grateful for the return that she has received.

She laughs more.  She hopes more.  She risks more.  She dreams more. 

To what can we attribute her transformation?  There are many different factors.  If you ask her, though, she will tell you that the primary reason is:

she has true friends.

Close friends contribute to our personal growth.  They also contribute to our personal pleasure, making the music sound sweeter, the wine taste richer, the laughter ring louder because they are there.  - Judith Viorst

She has shed her old shell.  She will never wear it again.

Likin' Lichen

One of Herself's favorite classes in college was Biology of Plants.  She was a freshman, and most of the class participants were juniors; nevertheless, she was not intimidated, for the subject matter was so very fascinating.  The professor would sprinkle his lectures with interesting, plant-related anecdotes - and lo and behold, the anecdotes would turn up on the quizzes and exams.  Tricky.  The kind of learning Herself loved best. 

She is a little rusty now on xylem and phloem and rhizomes and such.  She has asked Offspring the Second to retrieve her textbook on plants from the depths of his room, so that she may refresh her recollection.  She looks forward to it.

Every time she is out in the wilderness, she looks for her favorite plants - lichens and mosses.  They are unassuming, yet immensely capable.  Beautiful to look at, and texturally interesting to the touch.  I am quite fond of them as well - one could say, I've taken a likin' to the lichen.  Hee.

Smoke

As part of the preparations for attending the Halloween party Friday, Herself took a late shower and then put her still-damp hair into a barrette.  During the course of the evening, she was sitting in the path of the smoke of the fire in the firepit.  Her hair must have absorbed a fair amount of the tiny smoky particulates, for this morning when Herself got into the shower, the wetting of her hair by the water released the faint scent of campfire smoke.

She wishes she could pack up her tent and her sleeping bag and go camping again.  Right now.