A Tale of Two Sisters

"It was the best of times,

it was the worst of times"

(Charles Dickens said so)…

It was the best of an older sister,

(glamorous and wise)

it was the not-so-worst of a younger sister,

(adorable and eager to learn)

(I just said so).

It was A Tale of Two Sisters!!!

No, no not THESE Two Sisters:

(by way of the movie epic "Frozen")

And not THESE "Two Sisters"

(by way of Auguste Renoir):

BUT (wait for it)...

THESE "Two Sisters"

by way of the Montesano Family—

Kathie and Mary Rose

 Yes, here they are—

 Senior Goddess Supreme Kathie 

(as in SGS41)

and Junior Goddess Supreme Mary Rose

(Photo taken circa 1967—do the math)

Yes, my darling baby sister,

nearly 21 years younger than me

"could have been my daughter",

as I heard so often.

But—surprise!

She was way better than a daughter—

She was a soul mate

and best friend

without any parental angst.

She was the best baby sitter

for my kids Matt and Niki and Jeff--

who then became her best friends

(only ten years apart in age).

Her kids were more than 

my adored nephew Steven and niece Alicia—

they were indeed like grandchildren

who I could indulge

ten years before my own grandkids

(Jake, Rosie, and Bella)

happily happened in my life.

And so she remains today…

My baby sister, my dearest friend….

throughout all the pages of our lives…

A Tale of Two Sisters….

A Tale Without End.

Keeping Our Home Fires Burning!

My daughter Niki and I 

were very pleased to see

 that our new apartment 

had a fine-looking fireplace……

until we actually realized,

during our first cold days in November,

that we didn't want

REAL fires that required

real wood

real tools

real removal of ashes

real viligance with our lively cat

in residence.

Soooooo….we improvised

and even economized

with this 

cheery low-maintenance

non-fire blaze of light….

thanks to a string of mini-lights

and a strategic mirror

(can you spot it?)….

with the fun option

to keep it lit

with many other color choices….

the lovely year 

long!

11-12-14 "Who Are You Wearing?

On the Red Carpet,

celebrities are asked 

that snarky catch phrase:

 "Who Are You Wearing?"

My childhood self

would have mumbled shamefully

"Sears Husky". 

We fat children of the 1950's 

wore "Husky" sizes—really!

Now, most retail stores 

designate

 "Plus" sizes for girls

 and "Husky" sizes for boys.

Hmmm…...so good

we live in a more sensitive time.

  In the U.K., these sizes 

are marked "Outsize" for all.

For chubby adult women,

there are "Women" and "Plus" sizes;

for the fat men,

there is the "Big" designation.

But we really need a label for

"sad and fat"

or

"make my body invisible"

or

"pretending to be thin"

START WORKING ON THAT,

ALL YOU P.R. PEOPLE!

While we hid out under our 

"Women" "Plus' bodies

along with our "Big" comrades.

When I could shop for smaller sizes,

I wanted to shout out,

"Look everybody, look where I'm shopping!"

Now ordering online becomes

that more appealing.

And it uses up less calories.

11-11-14 "I Read the News Today"

So I woke up today

 with the first line of a Beatles' song 

bouncing around my brain cells. 

 It wasn't until 

I stepped on my (very dusty) 

bathroom scale 

that it all made horrible sense...…

Yep, "I Read the News Today Oh Boy"…..

So now, dear Readers, 

I draw you into 

 My Nasty Predicament.  

What predicament?  

To dial down that number, 

that accusing number, 

that number that always haunts me. 

 But, see, to dial down that number means 

MINDFUL EATING AND

 MINDFUL MOVING AROUND 

(" aka "Exercise")

Back to my Predicament—

I love to eat (mindlessly)

and I have a body designed 

to fiercely protect the many calories 

I throw into it. 

That results in a lifetime 

of chubbiness 

and all the shame that goes along with it.

And the other part of my predicament, 

I hate to move around (exercise) 

When other children visit a park-

they scramble over to the playground. 

 Me, I scramble (well, saunter) over

 to the nearest bench and read.

You see the problem.

Now, a Great Irony 

(God has such a sense of humor):

Arthritis has invaded most of my body,

 and that extra weight makes it worse. 

 Sigh.

I tried what in my mind 

was "a quick fix" in April 2005—

I had a bariatric bypass.  

Yes, I had my anatomy drastically altered 

to "solve" my problem. 

 At the time of the surgery, 

I weighed 278 pounds. 

 I lost 110 pounds over the next year.

And I've been slowly and horribly

 gaining it all back.  

If you set your mind to it,

 this can be done.  

Too much eating and too little exercise 

will put that flab back.

Sigh.

So I've had both knees replaced. 

 I've had my right shoulder replaced.

 I must have worn out my rotator cuff

 with all that food-to-mouth movement.

Now I walk in pain 

because the arthritis is invading my back.  

And the weight still keeps on coming.  

It's very evident 

that the weight is a real pain—

all I need to do is pick up a gallon of milk,

 and watch all my arthritic body parts 

"weigh in". (pun intended)

So, Gentle Reader,

 I begin today in my quest

 to reverse the flab festival.  

Anyone who has seen the movie "Wall-E"

 recalls that the futuristic lifestyle 

has everyone packing on the pounds 

as they loll around all day

 on little lounge chairs, 

with all their food brought to them. 

 Exercise of any sort is forbidden.  

The lifestyle looks great to me:

HOWEVER, "I've Read The News Today—

OH BOY!"