The Boys in the Boat

The book I am carrying around with me, tucking in my bag, reading in the car is The Boys in the Boat.

Someone at Ivy Tech recommended this book to me.  I was asked "What will you do with all of your free time once you retire?" and one of my many responses was "Read something I don't have to teach!"  Then this book was suggested as one to add to my growing list of 'must read' books.

One day during my last couple of weeks at Ivy Tech I sat in Jan Bailey's office, just chatting, and she was telling me about her trip to visit an aunt in British Columbia, Canada, and all of the history of that area plus some stories she had heard about Washington state.  While she was on a layover at the Seattle airport, the bookstore clerk recommended this book as a great one to read about the Washington area. 

I am not dense.  When I hear the title of the same book from two different people in two difference scerarios, then it moves from the 'must read' list to the 'buy it now and read it next' list!  So I was on the quest to find it.

First stop - Target.  Nothing on the shelf with this title.  So Gary and I went to Barnes and Noble and I decided to make things easier and just ask at the information desk.  Before I could finish stating the title, the clerk was walking toward a display of the books and handed me one.  She said "You will LOVE this! Have you read Unbroken?"  I lied and said 'yes' even though I have it on my Nook, but I haven't read it yet. 

Of course I had to finish the book I was reading, one I found on the Bargain Books table at B & N, titled The Summer of Good Intentions by Wendy Francis.  Then I picked up The Boys in the Boat.  It took a little bit to get into the story, mainly because of many interruptions, but once I started it, I was captured. 

After I finished reading the story of the first member of the crew, I know that following the training and the experiences of the members of this Olympic gold team will be captivating.  The history included is very enlightening also.  I remember studying World War II, the Nazis, the concentration camps in junior high and high school, plus I have read Anne Frank and other books, but this will be a different perspective, one that I am sure will be read from a more mature and appreciative viewpoint.

Can't wait to continue reading......stay tuned for more updates.

In the Car

I remember when I was younger that driving from our "little brown house on 62" to Alliance or Salem seemed like a LONG distance.  It was all of five to seven miles.

I remember moving to Mt. Vernon, and in order to do major shopping or go to a movie we had to drive to Evansville, a distance of 15-18 miles depending on to which side of town we were traveling.

I remember my first teaching job at West Central in Francesville and living in Monticello.  I was 30 minutes from school, and I thought that was too far to be driving each day.  I had chosen Monticello for my first apartment because my boyfriend at the time was a student at Purdue, and I wanted to be close enough to him so I could see him occasionally.  Actually he was a 30 minute drive away from my apartment also but I saw him only on weekends.  Too far to drive in 1973.

Now we live in the country, 10 miles from Francesville where we attend church, where the drugstore is, and where we could 'run to the grocery store'  In the other direction is Winamac which is also a 10 mile drive and offers another grocery store, the Pizza King, and a CVS plus Ace Hardware and McDonalds.

Driving to a Walmart is at least 30 minutes one way and Krogers is the same distance.  Going to Lafayette is longer - one hour exactly from our drive to the Target parking lot.

If traffic is good, we can drive to Hilary's house in 45-50 minutes and add 15-20 more to that to arrive at Megan's house.

Driving to West Central from our house was 15 miles, but to Rochester to teach the dual credit classes was 29 which was the same distance from our house to the Logansport campus.  Each time I went to Kokomo, it was a good hour's drive.

My point?  I spend a lot of time in the car.  Our cars rack up the miles.  We spend money on gas.

I thought that once I stopped teaching, my time in the car would diminish somewhat.   Not so.

Monday - home to Pyrmont to Monticello to Rural King, then to Walmart, then back to the Chinese restaurant, then to the PO, then north to Sandy's house for tomatoes.  Next stop was The Farm to check on Agnes then to Medaryville to Dollar General then to Winamac to Ace Hardware then home.

Tuesday - home to Lafayette to Dr. Perry's office then to the mall (Kohls) then to O'Charley's then to Sams Club for gas, then to Meijer.  Up to the Hoosier Heartland to Delphi, to Monticello, to Buffalo, then to Francesville then to The Farm to drop off the medicine, then home.

Tomorrow will be more of the same - home to Pyrmont then to Indianapolis to the Children's Museum then back to Pyrmont.  Megan and I will go to Rensselaer for the Torchbearer Meeting, then back to Pyrmont, then Gary and I will go home.

Driving/riding in the car is part of my life.  I don't see any other way to function without driving everywhere, each and every day.  Not too often do we stay at home ALL DAY without going someplace for some reason. 

This is why it takes so long to do things on a daily basis.  This is why our time flies by.  This is why we spend so much money on gas.  This is why our cars have such high mileage.  

This is our life.  Do I want it to change?  Not really, because I don't want to miss out on the things we are doing.

But some days, I just am tired of being in the car.

 

Pep Talk

Yes, I have been struggling a little bit, especially over the weekend. This morning I was really blue and felt dejected, alone, and just blah.  I was feeling sorry for myself.

The plan for the day was to make salsa, mow, and read.  One of those I have accomplished. 

First we went to Pyrmont to pick up the water bath canner that we had used at Megan's and had been still at her house.  

Next we stopped in Monticello for jars, canning supplies,  some items to put IN the salsa, and rubber gloves (no pain from the jalapenos this time). 

Lunch time! I agreed once again to the Chinese place by Rural King because it was the most economical.  I dislike eating there because I tend to eat too much, but I was cautious this time.

Next a stop at the PO so I could mail three large envelopes: one to Angie, one to Kathy Goad, and one to Katie Saltsman.

On the road to Sandy's to pick up tomatoes.  Then to check on Agnes and pick up the food processor.  That took longer than we expected because we needed to sort through her meds---too long to explain.

Then I decided we should have bought more jars so we went home via Winamac so we could stop at Ace Hardware.  Jars were $1 less too!

Finally we were home and the salsa making process was started.  It took over 6 hours to prepare, cook, process, and clean up, but we have 32 pint cars of salsa cooling in the sunroom.  Not bad.

So where does the pep talk fit in?

While I was watching Gary enjoy his second plate of General Tso's Chicken and rice, I checked our email on my phone and found a note from Karen Whelan.

Karen and I were such good friends when we both taught at West Central, and our friendship is one that has remained strong even though she and Paul left Indiana and moved to Washington state in 2002.   We email each other several times during a month's time, and if one doesn't hear from the other for an extended period of time, there are phone calls made.

Anyway....yesterday I sent her a note about the beginnings of retirement and how it was a struggle yesterday with no preparing for the coming week.  Her response was right on the money and put a smile on my face.  All of those talks after school in her room rushed back at me, and I realized just how good of a friend she really is.   She said just what I needed to hear.

I was a good teacher.  No, I was a great teacher.  I really enjoyed my position in the high school and at Ivy Tech.  I loved being an Associate Professor and seeing the light bulbs click on over my students' heads was SO rewarding for me.   However, I have other interests and talents, too, that I can enjoy and skills to practice and hone.

Today it was ---making salsa and canning.    I felt very productive this afternoon, and all of my insecurities seemed to disappear.

Tomorrow what will it be?  Whatever it is, I know that I can adapt. I have worth.  I have purpose.  I am not going to sit around and feel sorry for myself, wandering aimlessly through life.  

Thanks, Karen, for the pep talk.

A Little Bit of a Struggle

Here it is.  Sunday afternoon in late August.  For the past 10 years I have spent most Sunday afternoons (or evenings if we have  been away during the day) thinking about my plans for the week, grading whatever was needed to be returned, and checking Blackboard for messages from students with weekend questions or the submissions in the online course(s).

No need to do that now.  Not any of that. 

In a way it is glorious.  Freeing.  Lifted pressure.  No feeling of 'well, I didn't get that done this weekend, did I?' like usually happens.

But in a way, it is sad.  Well, maybe not sad.  Just different.  I am not used to this.  My mind is not thinking 'retirement' yet.  My mind is still focused on that schedule of grading the Pod submissions, thinking my way through the Monday morning class, checking my Rochester bag to be sure I have everything I need for Tuesday morning, and making a list if I have forgotten anything so I can be sure to add it to the bag on Monday before I leave my office. The other things I always did were to think about meals for the week (not that they followed that plan but at least I had an idea) and to plan my clothing choices (how do I rotate my black pants and brown pants and what is the weather like and which shoes are comfortable for the long teaching days and will I need to come home after class and pick up Gary and change, THEN go south for another activity).

It still feels like summer.  The flowers. The grass. The temps. The open windows.  The fans running.  The hot nights with sporadic sleep.  So in that respect, these days aren't so different.  Just a continuation of the last couple of months.  But the leaves are falling.  There is the 'look' of fall with the overgrowth of weeds in certain areas and the hanging boughs of the trees that always happens in late summer.  Nothing is as fresh as it was. 

Another difference is that Megan is now on her school schedule.  Hilary is on her school schedule.  I have no school schedule any more. Everything that we plan with the kids involves bus times, pick up times, drop off times, and, soon, practices.  But not for me.  Just them.  That is a good thing (for me) but it is a hard adjustment (for me).

So for a while I am going to struggle.  I have been assured that soon I will forget all about my teaching schedule and I won't think about the need to grade anything. I will be out of the habit of checking Blackboard and my Ivy Tech email several times a day and one last time before I go to bed, just in case someone needed help (and they often did).    It just hasn't happened yet.  But it has been just a week, and I am sure eventually I will forget about how my days were scheduled.

But for now, I am still thinking that at 9:00 on Tuesday morning I will be at Rochester teaching the high school seniors and that I need to check BB for submissions in the AmLit class and that I should re-read "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love" and "The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd" before we go over those in ENGL 112 this week.

I have retired.  That is a good thing.  It is, isn't it?

Pleasant (?) Surprise

After being prodded by my husband for several days to step on the scale and face the music, I did this morning.  My eyes were scrunched tightly shut.  I didn't want to look.  But I did.  And I was surprised.  Only four pounds over what I weighed when we returned home from Disney.  Really?

Well.  At first I was so happy, I nearly skipped (well, not really) back to the bedroom to record the weight in my little notepad in the bedside table.  I was expecting a 10-15 pound increase, just judging from the way my denim capris were fitting. Plus that roll on my stomach that never goes completely away had increased in size. At least it seemed that way from my vantage point.

On the realistic side though is this.  I have been at this journey for just a little over a year.  I have lost 40 pounds, but my weight has been fluctuating around the same 5-6 pounds for over 5 months.  Up a few, down a few.  Up the same few, down a few more.  Up.  Down.  Down. Up. I am not losing again consistently. My excuse of hitting a plateau has worn out.  It isn't a plateau any more.  I am stuck.  Stuck and I just can't move.

As Hilary has said before, and I agree, this is just a number.  And even though it is 'just a number' I am not happy that my pants are tighter and I don't feel as comfortable wearing them.  Something needs to change.

So back into intense tracking and exercise.  No.  Strike that.  

Rather...I need to work toward better eating habits, better exercise routines, and more conscientious food planning and choices.  For this to work, it must be a lifestyle change.  I can't keep yo-yo-ing for the rest of my life.  

This will work.

A Never Ending Battle

I am not sure why weight is easy to add to one's body and so difficult to remove.

Just the wrong spice (such as salt) or one ingredient (like sugar or butter) and add pounds and inches to the body.

However, it will take days of counting calories (or whatever one decides to do to lose weight) and countless hours to exercise to remove those same pounds and inches.

Forty-three years ago when I began teaching I weighed 115 pounds.  Really.

The weight at retirement is not 115, but at one time it was 100+ pounds over that.  Who am I kidding?  Several times it was over that.  Even during the two pregnancies my weight did not reach over 200 pounds.  So what happened?

Life.
Enjoying eating.
Hectic schedules and more quick eating.
Stress.
Just not caring.

That sums it up.  Twice I have started the Weight Watchers journey, the first time with 45 pounds lost and my Lifetime goal met and maintained.  The second time was a little over a year ago when I started again and lost 40 pounds over 9 months.

Both times I have become complacent, tired, uncaring, cocky and sure that I could just eat a few things I liked and it not matter.  Both times I have gained back weight.

This time, however, I am stopping it.  As in right now.  Stopping the carefree eating and not caring.

I MUST care.  I have to care.  It is imperative that I care.

Why?

Four reasons, to start with.  Landon. Tessa. Cooper. Owen.  I want to watch them grow up.  I want to play with them.  I want to enjoy the time with them.

Two reasons.  Megan and Hilary.  I love my daughters so much, and now that I am retired I want to be able to help them when they need help, go with them when they ask, and be an asset not a liability when we are together.  Plus I know that struggling with weight is common for all three of us, and I don't want to be a bad influence in the journey.  

One reason.  Gary.  We have been married for 40 years, and I have taught for 43, with all of our free time scheduled around the school calendar.  Now that I have retired, I want to enjoy time with him, traveling, working in the yard, relaxing, and someone who struggles with just walking because her knees are sore from carrying around extra weight is not fun.

One reason.  Me.  I feel better when my weight is down.
I look better when my weight is down.
My clothes fit better when my weight is down.
I can breathe easier when my weight is down.
My knees don't hurt when my weight is down.

Since we have come home from the trip to Disney World, I haven't gone to WW meetings. I have stepped on the scale just once and I had lost a pound from the last WI before we left for the trip.  

I have been lapsing on recording points.  I have taken chances and eaten things that had been taboo on my list of 'safe foods' to eat.  How many times have I eaten French fries?  Buns?  A few bites of dessert?

Yes I can eat a chicken sandwich on a slim bun with spicy mustard for lunch and be ok.  Yes I can eat a chicken breast for lunch and be ok.  Yes I can eat an ear of corn and be ok.  But I can't eat all of those at one sitting and be ok.  I am slipping.  Big time.

No more.

Today Gary and I went to Cracker Barrel for brunch.  The special was one of my favorites:  Granny's French Toast Breakfast.  Yum.  I was tempted.  Oh my.  That sounded so good. And I told myself this would be my last yummy meal before I started in earnest on the WW journey again.....tomorrow.

I sat.  I looked at the menu.  I thought about it.  I made the decision.  If I kept saying "I'll do it tomorrow...." then I would be in so deep that I would have to start over again...and buy new larger clothes (which I can't afford to do)...and be disgusted with myself (which I don't want to do). 

The fruit and yogurt parfait with granola was really good (so good that I bought some granola at the grocery this afternoon).  The scrambled egg-beaters were really tasty.  I like turkey bacon and those three pieces were really tasty.  I did eat one of Gary's biscuits with the fried apples on the two halves. Yummy.

Dinner tonight was Tater Tot Casserole (thanks for the idea, Hilary), sweet corn, cucumbers, and slaw.  I had one small serving of the casserole, one ear of corn, a spoonful of cucumbers, and a spoonful of slaw.  Then after dinner Gary cleaned up the kitchen and I walked with Leslie, two miles.

I MUST get back into this routine.  I MUST take off the excess pounds that I have added through July and most of August.  I MUST make better food choices.  I MUST exercise more consistently.

Looking back at the reasons why I eat too much - none of those are important (except my life).  Stress should be reduced since I am not teaching any more.  Hectic schedules should now be relaxed.  I DO enjoy eating, but I enjoy eating healthy too.  I feel more sluggish when I overeat and my stomach becomes more upset.  My health is much more important than extra portions of food and unhealthy food choices.

I can do this!

Tornadoes

Yesterday storms hit the mid-section of the state with tornadoes cutting a path through Carroll, Howard, Cass, and Miami counties.

Fortunately everyone is our family was safe.  We discovered that we lost power for a while and clocks had to be re-set.  That is all.

Megan and Matt's house was fine. We were there, making and canning salsa as the news reports came in.

Hilary and Blaine and the kids took shelter in Lortons' basement as the clouds whirled overhead, but no damage occurred there.

However in Kokomo, which had been hit with intense storms in 2013, the tornadoes hit the ground and ripped apart the Starbucks by the Markland Mall, skipped through the subdivision just east of 931, and hit other places in the town as well.  The roof at the building which holds most of Ivy Tech's nursing classes was ripped off.

Classes were cancelled last night as well as for today.  The Event Center was opened and staffed by the Red Cross to offer refuge to those who had lost their homes, who needed help, or were traveling through and had become displaced in some way.

Tornadoes terrify me.  Since I lived in Monticello when it was hit in 1974, I have been petrified.  I have never made any kind of peace in my mind with hearing a Tornado Watch or a Tornado Warning issued, with listening to the wind, or with watching the sky for funnels.  When the girls were small, I imagined a tornado whipping through our farm and ripping one of them out of my arms and carrying her to Pulaski before dropping her to the ground.  Unfortunately some of that fear has passed over to them, and I regret that, but I will never regret the need to keep my girls safe from the harm of the storm.

Fortunately no fatalities occurred as a result of the storms in Kokomo and that area yesterday.  However the effects of the damage will take days, weeks, and maybe months to repair.  I pray that those who lost their homes and other possessions find peace of mind and the comfort and help that they need.

https://www.facebook.com/WTHR13/videos/10154116180721144/?pnref=story 

Tomatoes

Observations about tomatoes:

1.   They grow in abundance.  Out of just a few plants can come oodles and oodles of tomatoes. 
2.   There is nothing like a sliced tomato, freshly picked from a plant outside the door, in a garden, or from a pot.  Sprinkle a little salt and pepper- heavenly!
3.   BLT's are the best summer meal!  Cook up some bacon, add some fresh leaf lettuce, toast a couple of slices of bread and add some Miracle Whip, plus a thick slice or two of fresh tomato - nothing better than that on a hot August afternoon.
4. Tomatoes can be chopped and made into salsa!  I tried my hand at salsa for the first time last week and it was SO good.  Gary thought the tomato chunks were too chunky, but it was perfect for me.  I added chopped green pepper, chopped red onion, chopped jalapeno, and fresh cilantro.  It was SO good (I already said that).  Not only can I eat it with Scoops, but I can add in spiced up hamburger, some grated Cheddar, and a dab of sour cream for some awesome nachos.  Better than anything I order at a restaurant!
5. Not a big fan of drinking this every day, but tomatoes can be made into fresh or canned tomato juice, and the homemade is much better than anything that comes from a store-bought can.
6. Tomato sauce and spaghetti sauce - wow.  Homemade is delicious!  

Why tomatoes as the topic today?  Gary just left to pick tomatoes at Sandy's house.  After lunch we are going to Megan's and make salsa and can it.

Canning has been a lost art with more and more people opting to just buy their sauces and veggies at the store.  However in the past year or three, more in my daughters' age group have been into gardening and food preservation. They say that 'what goes around, comes around' and I believe this about canning.  With all of the additives and preservatives and extra calories packed into pre-packaged foods, more of the younger generations are realizing what our grandmothers knew years ago---growing your own food, preserving that food for the winter months is healthier and more economical.

More later---and maybe some pictures of the fruits of our labor!

Mowing

There is something therapeutic about mowing the yard.

Yes, I said that word.  Therapeutic.

Just think.  When one is mowing the yard, on a rider, NO ONE, and I do mean absolutely NO ONE can ask for a drink, expect you to take a phone call, expect an answer to a text, or want dinner prepared.

No one expects the mower of the lawn to carry on a conversation.  There is something to be said for silence.  Well, as silent as a lawnmower can be!  But no one wants to talk, no needs to listen, no one converses.  The mower of the lawn is alone.  A L O N E.  Bliss!

No fashion statement is made on a mower.  Mowing a lawn is the perfect reason to look dirty and sweaty, wear shabby mis-matched clothes, and go without make-up or a great hairstyle.  I never mind if someone stops by unexpectedly when I am mowing the lawn because I don't have to look good.  The same effect is possible when gardening or cleaning the house, but the sweat and dirt gathered on the body from a lawn mower is perfect!

All other work can be put aside when mowing is needed.  Heavy rains make for greener higher grass, and it must be cut, right?  In the spring, summer, and fall, time must be carved out each week for mowing.  How many times have I said "Oh, I can't do this or that. I have to mow."  Many, many times.  It is a perfect excuse for NOT returning a text, folding laundry, washing windows, cleaning out the refrigerator, grading papers, making a phone call, or scheduling a doctor's appointment.

Finally the most therapeutic reason for mowing the lawn is the peace that comes from just having that alone time.  I often think, as my dad always said, DEEP thoughts while on the mower.  I can solve all of my problems. I can cool off from a heated discussion.  I can think through a problem and come up with a solution.  I can talk to God. I can relax.

And maybe the best thing is that after a few hours on the mower in the dirt and dust and having grass blown all over me, I can clean up in a hot soapy shower and feel totally rejuvenated.

Dad put me on a mower when I was 9 or 10 years old, and I have never looked back. He knew what he was doing, didn't he?  I love it!  

*A Speedex lawn tractor, similar to the first one Dad had when we lived in The Little Brown House on 62.  I learned how to mow the yard on this type of mower.

The Button Box

When I was a little girl, my grandmother had an old treadle sewing machine in the bedroom where I slept when I stayed with her.  On the pedal of that machine she kept a black tin box with pink flowers.  Inside were buttons.  Grandma would snip off buttons from old shirts and dresses that had worn out or were too small. She removed the buttons from clothing that she would cut up for rags or for quilt pieces.  When she purchased a card of buttons for a new garment, she would add the extras to the button box.

I loved to look through the button box.  When she was teaching me to sew, I would try to find just the right button to add to a skirt or a shirt that I had made.  What intrigued me, at the age of 10, was that each button had a story.  She would pull out a big blue button and tell me that it came off of a suit that my great-grandfather wore to Quaker Meeting.  A bright pink button was salvaged from a dress my mother wore when she was a little girl.  Another yellow button shaped like a new chick was from a romper I wore when I was a toddler.

Years ago I found a jar that was made into a lamp, added a cute shade, and it eventually made its way into our sunroom.  However, from the very beginning of using the lamp, I began to fill the jar with buttons.  While I don't cut them from old garments, I do take them from the extra buttons that are attached to new pieces of clothing.  When I add buttons to a new garment that I have made, the extras go into the button jar.    Over the years the collection has grown and the jar is nearly full.

I haven't told my grandsons about the buttons---I doubt that they would find the stories interesting.  But when Tessa reaches the age where she will notice the pretty buttons on a dress or a shirt that she is wearing, when she sits in the sunroom with me telling me about her new adventures, she may notice the jar of buttons and ask about how different they are.  Then I can tell her the stories about her great-great-grandmother's button box and how the button jar got its start.