Friday, June 27, 2014

Fasting Improves Cooking

Made it five days this time.
I really LIKE fasting, for maybe-weird personal reasons.  I like using myself as a guinea pig.  I like making changes to see what will happen.  I like new sensations.
Cleaning some junk out of the old system is always good. 

Fasting sharpens the senses.  I notice that fasting upgrades my sense of smell and touch.
I walked by Pizza Hut and the smell was... repulsive.  Because of the fake and nasty ingredients they use! 
I walked along, pondering this.  When we are in a heightened state like this, we can detect the smell of chemicals as being very unattractive.  I'll bet if there was a real pizza, with a handmade crust with fresh ingredients and oregano, and the toppings were higher quality, the smell would be nearly irresistible.
And then about a mile later, I walked past the Pizza Time.  HOO boy, Lord have mercy. 

Fasting improves my cooking skills!
All of a sudden I can think of a hundred different wonderful cheap meal ideas  :-)

This one doesn't look like much, it's just rice cooked in chicken broth, with fried onions and corn, and cheese on top.  Boy did it smell good, though. 
I wanted some. 

Here's where I surprised myself.  Cooked chicken breast then wiped out the pan, cooked corn at the bottom, the sliced chicken breast over that, then some flour and milk mixed together, and a lot of chopped spinach.
I got unsolicited, flowery compliments from all the kids. 
Karen said it was "ultra yummy" 
This is homemade custard style honey ice cream.  Half and half, blackberry honey, eggs and vanilla.
My nose knows what it's smelling here.

The kids had some while it was chilling and some more once it was frozen. And wanted more. 
I told them I may not be your STANDARD mother, but there's no mother on earth is going to let them have ice cream three times in one day!
Dave told me that was my chance to be a really SPECIAL mother! 

Oh, and I was wearing a muumuu  :-)   
The best part of fasting, I couldn't get to this time.  The best part is once the body is totally independent of food, and all of those uncomfortable, obsessive, worried thoughts seem to just float away, and there's just me and life interacting without contamination between.
That part is cool. 

I would love to eventually do one of those epic 40 day fasts, in order to experience something I've never  experienced before, "true hunger."
I'm really curious about that!  A physical sensation I've never felt?
I need to know.

(end of my remarks)

True hunger is a sensation in the mouth and throat, similar to thirst, and not a gnawing pain in the stomach. The way it will get your attention is that comes after many days of experiencing no hunger. Seemingly out of the blue, you'll have an intense desire for food.
When food is taken at this point, it tastes extraordinarily wonderful, a real sensual treat. And the act of eating itself is fulfilling, creating feelings of contentment and pleasure. This is the experience eating is supposed to be.
Having once experienced this "true hunger", you will no longer confuse it with the emotional desire or physical discomfort we usually associate with hunger. Such physical "hunger pains" felt either in the stomach, or as "hunger headaches", are said to actually be withdrawal and detox symptoms from rich foods, chemicals, and stimulants.

Most Americans have not felt true hunger since they were toddlers...

If you only ate when truly hungry, it would be almost impossible to become overweight. True hunger is a signal to eat to maintain your muscle mass.

True hunger is not uncomfortable. It does not involve your stomach fluttering or cramping. When you feel it, you know it is a normal reaction that signals a need for food. It makes food taste much better when you eat, and it makes eating much more pleasurable. People are consistently amazed at how good the simplest foods can taste when they are truly hungry.

True hunger requires no special food to satisfy it. It is satisfied by eating almost anything. You can't crave some particular food and call it hunger. A craving by definition is an addictive drive, not something felt by a person who is not an addict. Remember, almost all Americans are addicted to their toxic habits. A disease-causing diet is addicting. A health-supporting diet is not.

Killer Shoes from the Clothing Bank

I have enough money to get by, if I'm really careful.  Rice and pinto beans, yum!!
The lack of any cushion worries me a bit, but I've realized from the lives of others around me, that with any reliable income I am well off.  
The ones I feel sorriest for are the fathers with young families, who can't find a job despite trying.  That's gotta hurt. 
Anyway.  Some have told me to go to the food bank, but I don't feel right about it.  Others need that worse than I do.

The clothing bank is another story!  In America, grown-up women's cast-off fashions are so abundant that there's plenty for all and no end in sight.
In that marvelous place (run by the Catholic church) they hang up all the donations, and a couple times a week let everybody in to "shop" for free.

I've found all kinds of cool stuff there!
What a boost it is to get new-to-me and different stuff to wear, quite regularly!  
In a way, it's even MORE fun even than the thrift shop, because you can pick up anything that looks interesting, bring it home and if you don't end up liking it, just donate it again.
As Karen's pointed out, this expands our options because we sometimes pick up things we are not sure are really the type of thing we'd wear, then it turns out to be.

I stay pretty true to form  :-)
It must have flowers all over it.  

Karen says of this one, "It looks like you want to be a nurse."
I haven't worn it, it'll probably get donated again! 

These, I love.  LOVE, I tell you!!

There's no longer any law that says I have to wear flats.
I'm 5'10" in these!

For walking around inside buildings, a slight heel is actually more comfortable, but I had not hitherto found a heel that suited me.  Most heels seem so unstable. 
And then I find THESE and they were FREE
*happy sigh* 

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Playground! Not just for kids...

Let's post something.  Anything!

I can do this.

The "journey to recovery" has been very interesting so far.  I get out of my pressure cooker, and get out of my head, stop the drama and I can start to grow, expand, become.  What am I becoming?  Not sure yet.  I guess that's the fun part! 

It's helpful to try to remember what I liked as a child, what my hopes and dreams were.

I used to dream of being in the circus.  When my mother took wide-eyed little me to see Circus Vargas, I saw those ladies in spangly outfits swinging from rings and felt the heart-stirring of recognition. 
That was my favorite fantasy from then on, as I played on my rope swing.
The first thing my daddy did, at every place we moved, was hitch up another rope swing for me. 

When I was married and lived out in the woods, one of the loggers who came out was kind enough to climb two big trees and string up the highest swing I'd ever had, using steel cable from the back of his pickup.  He put on an old manila rope that was nice and thick and easy to hang on to, and said, "Now don't trust this for very long!  Be sure to get a different one.  I was going to toss it because I don't trust it any more."

So I swung on it happily for like three winters until it broke at the high point and dumped me flat on my back.  I remember lying on the ground stunned while the kids watched me.  "Mommy, there's blood coming out your ear..." 

My earring had scratched the side of my face  :-)  

When I moved to the apartment last year, I had to find ways to get exercise in the city.  It is kinda cool to live a few blocks, or a couple miles, away from nearly everywhere I need to go.  Money being what it is, I have a perfect excuse to walk. I've gotten better at walking. 

Then I discovered the nearby elementary school had those nice kind of rings with a thick coating. 
Why not walk over there every day it's not raining and try to get my grip back again? 

At first I could hang on for only a few seconds before my wimpy hands hurt, and if I ignored it my palms would bleed.

They've started to get better  :-) 

I guess we go through phases. First we play on the playground. Then we're too old for kid stuff any more. Then we grow up and might like to play, but can't anyway, and are ashamed to be seen trying and failing. Then we get really old and don't give a fig who's watching, and try patiently until we can again.