Uphill idealist

"Everything is a miracle; it's a miracle that one does not dissolve in one's bath like a lump of sugar." There are days that it's feels you would or could melt away in the bubbles and heat of a long soak in the tub. Even when you say, "Calgon, take me away!", and disappear for 30 minutes of bubbly solitude - you still don't really melt away. In spite of the intensity of what draws you to the tub, there you are soaking and with wrinkled fingers and toes... but there you are. Still in one piece. Resting in bubbles and warm water provide rest and recoup - what the bubbles take away are the worries, not you. At the end of the bath, there you are - clean and wet and still here. That is a miracle indeed. Girl Before a Mirror - Picasso.

After of working very diligently, minus some sweets every now and then, I've been on the wagon of exercise and eating "healthy" through June and into July and I'm doing rather well. I'm about 15 pounds down from where I was in spring thus far. To be honest, I've drank more fruit and veggie smoothies than I've had desserts - so it's not going too rough. I'm mixing up the cardo and weight training, even added spinning and on my third week with that now - and have a session with a trainer later this week to make the best of my time at the gym. I'm hoping all this work continues to pay off health-wise...in a few weeks I'm headed to New Orleans for a youth trip and will be away from my regular routine. I'm feeling a little nervous about that. Any suggestions on staying "on the health wagon" while on the road and out of the norm? Comment away!

Image found at Desert Pastor. As mentioned, I've been reading Anne Lamott's book, "Traveling mercies">. The title alone has stirred some thoughts in my heart. Here written below are some of the ripples of idea on living in and through traveling mercies. When I was a little girl and throughout my childhood, I remember the ritual of praying with my family before any significant road trip. My Dad would say, "Let's hold hands, we're going to ask God for traveling mercies." I'd usually be sitting in the middle seat,being the youngest of three kids, perched between my brother who was seven years older than I and my sister who four years older than I. My sister would happily grab my hand and my brother would reluctantly hold a few of my fingers to officially complete the prayer circle. He didn't mind the prayer part, but holding his littlest sister's hand - that was a bit too much for any teenage boy. Most of our road trips involved heading ...

I've been on a reading binge the last two weeks for books written by Anne Lamott. Bird by bird has a permanent home on my bedside table. Once a friend of mine who sells used books, and I told to hold all the Anne Lamott titles for me asked, "...Is it because you have the same almost the same name that you like her books so much?" My middle name is Lamont - hers is Lamott, close but not quite. I'd misplaced my copy of Traveling Mercies about a year ago, and found a hardcover copy in another used book story this weekend for only $3.00. I knew I'd be ready for another one of Anne's books as I was in the final chapters of Blue Shoe on Friday. I started Traveling Mercies on Monday and I'm already halfway done reading it. Anne Lamont's books, both the fiction and non-fiction have a way of getting under your skin. I find myself thinking about the characters in her fiction, wondering how they are and then remember they are fictional. Then again, when I read he...

After a sun-filled, activity filled holiday weekend I came home and plopped myself down on the sofa in our living room. Within a few minutes I was out cold and snoring away. It's not very often that I find myself waking up on the sofa, to find it to be the morning after. Usually I can get comfy for a cat nap, but this time around I was totally surprised to find myself still wrapped up in a blanket hearing the morning birds chirping away. Uncharacteristically dozing off on the sofa reminded me of the beginnings of the idea of "sleeping with bread". Bread was given to displaced children during WW2 to help them to sleep knowing, "Today I have bread, and I will have bread tomorrow." Last night I think I better understood the contentment of these war ravaged children, as all weekend long I made great attempts to live in the now - not looking back to the past or forward to the future, but living and soaking up all the present offered me. I'm working on being inten...