It seems like it's been a while since my last post. I guess it feels like a while only because I'm always writing in my head; that's how I think, in blog posts. Anyway, it's a beautiful day in the valley and I'm going to see one of my most favorite authors speak tonight, Anne Lamott. I'm really excited. At the ripe old age of late 60's, I still owe my soul to the company store but am on Spring Break this week. So, tonight's event and Spring break I can say life is good right now.
Let me fill you in on my new endeavor; raw vegan. Well, I'm trying, and it's my first day. Yeah, that's right, my first day. Don't scoff! So there ya have it. I have realized I have had to do something about my careless eating habits for a while, especially since I recently decided to venture on the scale. I have not been intentional about what I eat. It's been more like feeding a spoiled baby who demands chocolate anytime, any place she wants. Not pretty! Since I was a little girl I've loved veggies, nuts and fruits. I remember at my great grandmother's house playing like I was an adult and fixing my own meals in my apartment which was her basement. She had this 1920's like camp stove down there. Her basement and attic were the things imaginations thrived on. I loved her home. Anyway, so I would go out into the yard and fix a "salad" and put all sorts of colorful things from nature in that bowl. Because it was the late '50's and we were only supposed to eat processed foods in my house, well, almost all processed, I knew not to put a bite into my mouth. I could be poisoned. But I fantasized that was what the good food was all about.Here I am in my 60's going back to those green leaves, nuts and berries. They may not be the same ones, Not sure, but those earthy things appeal to me.
I might add, when I was a wee thing, I would NEVER eat meat...I mean I would try not to. My mother made me eat it, but I would throw it on the floor for the dogs when she wasn't looking. That was the only way to be excused from the table. The red meat she would cook and serve looked like road kill to me and I couldn't stomach it. Needless to say, I was skinny. Not now. Now, sixty years later, I have learned to eat what doesn't appeal to me, and have it appeal to me, and grow sick and fat. In my defense however, I still chose thick brown bread over the white, processed imitation breads served in the late 50's and early 60's.
Of course I did crave sugar. As soon as my bike could take me to Pease's Candy Store I would buy all the penny candy my meager spending money would allow. But, that's all I could eat...just the sugar. Except when I went to my grandmother's and great grandmother's. They made what we now consider whole foods. At least until canned goods became the fashion. That was also the time McDonalds started showing it's arches and food was something that didn't satisfy; you just wanted more. At least I always wanted more after eating those skinny little fries and hamburger patty from McoDnalds. Food wasn't like that at my grandmother's though. Her food was the best. And my great-grandmother? Her home-made pineapple oatmeal cookies were a dream. Only one cookie and you were full and satisfied.
Food has always been an issue for me. Eating at my grandmother's and great mother's meant all is well in the world. Eating at home meant there was never enough, and sugar was the addiction of a nine year old.
When I was a hippy I tried the "macro-biotic diet where you were to eat mainly brown rice. You chewed it until it turned back into water. You shopped at a local hippy co-op because 'health food stores' were for weird people and there was maybe one in my town. My friend and I would sit in our little apartment on the wrong side of town, chew rice until it turned into water, smoked 'herbs" and then bake bread and eat it with honey until we were satisfied. Oh those were the days, (right Carol?)
Then in the early 70' s everything changed and I was told to get a grip, quit being an idealistic hippy and join society. So I did. The good thing that came from that was I quit smoking cigs, but gained 20 lbs. And so it goes.
Here I am, as you know, in my late 60's searching for that little girl again who knew her own tastes, knew herself without a thought; who didn't question herself. I know she's buried under the guises of wanting to conform for false security's sake. She's under there somewhere and really trying to tell me to come back. I'm listening to her now. What have I to lose? I listened to her 35 years ago when she told me I didn't have to eat meat anymore; then my mother was no longer there telling me I couldn't be excused from the table unless I took some bites of the swiss steak.
So, it's time to go listen to Anne. You all have a great week and maybe, if you're lucky, I'll keep you updated on this whole eating thing. Bye for now.
