One of the many pieces of advice the wonderful Vicki Pettersson gave in her workshop was this - writing is ACTIVE. Nutrition and fitness are connected to managing yourself as a writer. So I've begun another journey, one that leads me towards wellness, and that means stepping up the daily walks with The Budster, and changing my eating habits. Doesn't that sound tra la la wonderful?
I'm sure you know the old adage "when momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."
Well, giving up my long love affair with sugar and carbs means ain't nobody happy around here at the moment. Let me pass on this bit of sage advice. When in the throes of withdrawal, do NOT clean out the dining room and then ask your husband to throw out his old textbooks from dental school. (Don't ask me why they were stacked in our dining room. Just don't.) Because it will result in a meltdown of epic (one-sided) proportions with momma insisting, "You haven't cracked open even ONE of these books in years. Throw them in the recycling box!" And him, equally stubborn, countering with oh, they're stayin' baby, totally missing the irony that he's sneezing from the dust because THEY HAVEN'T BEEN OPENED IN TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. His argument? "You never know."
Holy Moses in his underpants! Yes I do. I know they're going to sit here for another twenty-five years and we're going to be having this same argument (sorry, DISCUSSION) again, only next time, he's going sneak them into The Home where I know I'll end up pushing them out of the way with my walker until the fateful day when I trip over them and BREAK MY HIP.
Well, I am nothing if not calm and rational, so we reached a compromise - the books can go but he wants me to haul them down to our local thrift shop and donate them. Now, call me crazy, but I'm fairly confident the casual browser who is looking for a book on crockpot recipes or muffins for every occasion will not want to bring home ORBAN'S ORAL HISTOLOGY AND EMBRYOLOGY or THE STOMATIOGNATHIC SYSTEM - FUNCTION, DYSFUNCTION & REHABILITATION. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe someone would interested in a medical textbook with graphic black and white photos of the gnarliest teeth and gums imaginable, or as I like to refer to it, The Worst Case Scenario guidebook for what happens when you don't floss.
We'll see. In the meantime, I can now walk around the dining table without tripping. Of course, now I have to tackle the TBR stack beside my bed.