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Last night, a friend had a ‘purse party’ and I got myself this funky blue hat, a ‘Coach’ knock-off . I think it brings out the blue in my eyes. Just a little token of appreciation to myself for mothering 5 kids.

I’ve got a kitchen table full of things to inspire my creativity. Atop le tableau is a stack of fabrics that are lookin’ real good to me right now and my yarns, and even a doll I’m working on for an order. I have such an itch to start making some dolls, I just need to find the time. In that pile of inspiration, lies 3 or 4 Faithy Trumbull dolls in various different dress & bonnet colors. I’d like to add them to my eBay store when they’re completed. In the meanwhile, the cats are having a good time checking out all my goodies.

I was searching through an old box of photos and stumbled upon these childhood photos of me when I was young and sweet. These were taken at my grandpa’s farm in Tennessee. Almost every year, my mom and I used to take a train down South to drop me off. I’d stay for a month during the summer until my dad got his vacation, then they would both drive down, stay a week and we’d all drive home.

I think these photos are almost ethereal. They are just beautiful to me. I don’t remember feeding the chickens, but I’m glad there are photos that show I did. The most precious photo to me is the one with my dad. He was a wonderful father and I will love him always. I was the proverbial ‘Daddy’s Girl.’ I’ve been without him for 26 years now and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. He’s always there in the back of my mind, right where God lives in me and where the thoughts of everyone else are that I love.

Me, age 3, and my father, Emil Steiner

Sitting on grandpa Herman’s lap.

Feeding the chickens, age 4

Feeding the chickens, age 7

A few months ago, in my never ending quest to find out what exactly I am made up of genetically, I decided to go along with a DNA Ancestry test to see just what kinds of ancestors I have. So, I contact GeneTree.com and request my free test kit.

The kit arrives within a week, so before going to sleep one night, I vigorously rub the inside of my cheeks & gums with the designated swabs provided and carefully pop them in the postage paid envelope. The next day, off it goes with a gulp, and a hundred dollar testing fee.

I wait about 4 weeks and I get this email from the testing lab. By now, I’ve almost forgetten about the whole thing. I open the email and voila! The test results. It was a good thing I was sitting! Here it goes. My ancestral genetic make up consists of the following percentages:

79% European (no specific countries, thank you very much!)
12% East Asian (!)
7% Sub Saharan African (!!!!!)
2% Native American (!!)

Holy Jesus! I got some soul sistah in me! How cool is that? That must explain how I can talk to my kids teasingly in a mock ghetto tone and do it well. Now, if you look at me, you’d beg to differ with these results. How can it be? All I can say is what mysteries we all have lying within our DNA. This must have gone wayyyyyyy back in time, like 700 years. The Native American is funny, too. Looks like someone in my line got off the Mayflower and fell in love with an Indian, or worse. Maybe my great, great, great, great grandmother was at the first Thanksgiving, with her lover, the Haudenosaunee.

Last night, as I sat in a throne-like chair getting a pedicure, I was flipping through a magazine which had a small article on the subject of guilty pleasures. I suppose the difference between ‘guilty’ pleasures and ‘simple’ pleasures, is the guilty ones aren’t free. For example, a ‘simple’ pleasure might be enjoying a bouquet of flowers by simply burying your face in them, breathing in their intoxicating scent and feeling the satiny petals brush against your skin. Whereas, a ‘guilty’ pleasure might be purchasing yourself that bouquet of flowers, for no other reason except that you desire them. I was reading some of the examples of what the writer considered ‘guilty pleasures,’ and here are a few I found interesting:

1. Buying yourself flowers
2. Hiring a housekeeper
3. Purchasing expensive jeans
4. Holing up in a hotel
5. 800 ct. thread sheets
6. Sneaking a midnight snack while everyone else in your family is asleep. (Big deal on that one.)

So, here is my list of should be guilty pleasures, although, I admit, I don’t really feel the guilt at all!
1. Sleeping on a freshly laundered set of new sheets or under a deliciously soft new comforter (my guilty pleasure doesn’t have to be 800 thread ct., although I do own a set.)
2. A weekend jaunt to New York City with a girlfriend.
3. Getting my nails done in RED
4. Buying some new beauty products and relishing those moments when you go through the bag of new items and open them up.
5. Having lunch at Panera Bread with my daughter
6. Purchasing a new Tascha painting off ebay

A few times a week, I’d like to list some of the things I’m thankful for…just to keep my perspective on what ‘s really important in life.

I’m thankful for my home and the refuge and comfort it provides. I’m thankful for air conditioning; the sound of rain on the roof while I drift off to sleep; for beautiful art to enjoy, for my creative spirit; for my children, my husband and my familie’s health. I am thankful for a fresh pot of coffee and yummy creamers to go with it, for lemon biscotti, chocolate and I am thankful for my furry friends, Blaze, Lily, Chaz, Fletch, Cosmo & Oliver–for life without them would be so empty.
More thankful fors tomorrow!

I read this on the Figure Magazine website:

“When you’re upset or angry, having a good laugh can really cut the tension.
But chuckling may do more than just ease our minds — a new study suggests that laughing relaxes our blood vessels as well.
University of Maryland researchers measured blood flow in 20 people before and after they saw a funny movie. When the film ended, 19 of the subjects showed improved circulation, with an average boost of 22 percent.
The benefits of increased circulation include stress reduction and better immunity. “
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I truly believe my dear friend Cat will be soley responible for lengthing my life by a few weeks or even months. Not such a bad thing to credit oneself with, huh? She is so dang funny…I just love her. Whenever that woman and I get together, all we do is laugh. Our times together can be so riotous, my face sometimes hurts long after she’s gone. She knows just how to bring out the happy in me. It’s amazing how good it feels to just let down your guard and giggle. It lowers blood pressure and like the article above says, it makes the blood flow better. When I’m with her I actually feel healthier!

At my age, I’ve found there’s nothing better for my soul than some quality girlfriend time. I find an excuse, any excuse to just to get together. As I’m getting older, I want to filter out my time spent with people who have nothing positive to offer me. I am cleansing myself of the downers–the people who are pessimistic, opinionated and overbearing. I want as much as possible to surround myself with people who will lift me up, make me happy, and make me laugh. Sunshine people is how I’d describe them. I think I can safely say, if there was one person I’d have to be marooned on a desserted island with it would be Cat. She would make being shipwrecked hilarious. Now isn’t that what life is all about?
My recommendation to anyone reading this is to get themselves a ‘Cat,’ hold on to your heart and laugh as much as you can. Oh, yes, and have plenty of underwear on hand–you’ll need them.

Yes, this is my question. I am struggling with my weight, knowing full well I most likely will never, ever see a size 7. I don’t think I was that size when I was born….well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration.

In my quest for thinness, I’ve committed myself both mentally and financially to a gym membership. My friend Kim is my inspiration. She is my muse for weight loss. She shed 100 pounds in 9 months by sweating it out at Golds. So, of course, I’m of the mind that if I join a gym and commit myself to it, I should obtain the same results. I’ve been going since December and now, after 4 months, I’m at the point that I feel terrible if I don’t go. I try my hardest to get there 4-5 days a week. I do the elliptical at least 4 times a week. I am now up to 30 minutes per day on this machine, which to me is a major accomplishment. The sweating and ass busting is paying off. I feel incredible. I sleep better and I have so much more energy. However, the weight is slow to leave. If I could just get my eating habits on the right track, hopefully, these unwanted pounds will just slip away. South Beach, here I come…the diet that is.

At my tender age of 44, I keep telling myself this fitness program is primarily for health reasons-you know, to help prevent cancers, heart disease and other dasterdly ailments that somehow develop as a result of being overweight. But in reality, I am determined to get thinner just because I want to look as sexy as I feel. My fourties have been fabulous…I’ve never felt more sexy, smart or self-confident as I do now. In fact, Larry, my husband, finds my new found confidence somewhat of an annoyance. He calls it my ”woman hear me roar campaign.” (I’ll cover that in another post.) I wish I could capture the essence of this state of being. I know I’d make millions if I could bottle it. The ironic thing is, I feel like a thin person. In fact, I think of myself as one. But hahaa! When I look in the mirror, or have my photo taken, what a shocking surprise it is to see a larger woman staring back at me and it really does make me feel uncomfortable.

I do realize I need to make peace with myself because there is a real chance I may never significantly change my body shape. Oh, I’ll probably be much healthier and firmer, no doubt. But the reality is, this blubber may never disappear. So I need to love and embrace the woman I am. I need to accept how I look and accentuate the positive. Although I’m married, it’s comforting to know there are men out there who adore curvey women and would not look twice at a woman with a runway model physique. They wouldn’t trade their curvey women for all the tea in China–or maybe I should rephrase that and say they wouldn’t trade their curvey women for all the thin women in China.

So, tomorrow brings with it my gym appointment with the elliptical machine. It is my friend and I will be faithful to it. But whatever shape my body takes after 1 year of exercising, I do know this. I love myself and I adore the person I am. Having a more mainstreamed, shapely body is just a fancier picture frame for what is a very, very beautiful photograph. Don’t mind me. I’ts just the self-confidence talkin’.