And still counting (12,560-12,600)

sunshine peeking through clouds
goal reevaluation
hot tea in the afternoon
vitamin gummies
texts with Christy
restorative yoga

a class of all of us, each letting go of something (or trying to)
Ruth at my feet
clean floors
a full fridge
Trader Joe's spices

errands with Lanie
King Arthur with Erin
medieval history
Amy at the table
pumpkin pie spice in coffee

the jade plant in the window at the storage facility
her things in her space
Shane, his patience and understanding as I continue to process the losses
good sleep in my bed
Teresa Tapp

peppermint patties in the freezer
a pool covered in time for leaves and rains
texts with Cindy
that gf spinach and mushroom pizza from Freschetta
two big bags of clothes to donate

Shane installed anchors for a new cover.

Hoping this makes next year's opening much easier!

I never thought I'd be able to wear this sweater buttoned again.

and a whole closet of dresses to wear
that favorite pair of jeans for a someday wear (and today is someday!)
health!
cooler temperatures
fall

Sofia
a Sunday rainy run
a neighbor's encouraging call, "You're determined!"
cranberry blood orange tea in a mug from Rebecca
texts with Marshall's Mom

Erin's love of cats

We ended up keeping two cats so her heart wouldn't break.

a jacket in the rain
library books on adversity and healing and pressing on
clean sheets on the bed
Ruth's foxy toy at my feet

Day story

September

Outside my window another overcast day and drizzle. It's been a wet year. A wet month. At times I've welcomed the hunker. Introverting in full force.

In the school room, we are pressing in and pressing on. Medieval history and literature, botany, biology, chemistry, geometry, algebra 2, saxon, and, and, and. Keeping our focus, and still trying to get used to all new rhythms of classes and extra curriculars. It is good. Lanie and I commented last night about the routine of things. Maybe it will feel familiar next month, but I still find myself wondering what day it is, and what is on the agenda.

From the kitchen, lots of black bananas that found their way into banana chocolate chip bread and oatmeal cookies. I'm really trying to give attention to making baked goods. It's easy to forget that those gestures nestle and root into my kids' memories and hearts. I want to fill them up with all the hygge to take out into their own homes.

I am sad. And I don't know if it's September or all the gray. But I suspect it's all the old losses and the newer losses and the realization of things--the loss of expectation that seems to want to hit closer to heart and home this time. It's the tears that keep coming from a source that doesn't run dry. When I was in college, I was part of a group of adult kids from alcoholic families, and one person commented on (criticized) how I never cried when I spoke about the hard things, and I remember thinking I was afraid if I started to cry, I would never stop. Now I cry easily. And I suppose there's fault in that too.

I don't want to forget crossing a finish line to a goal. Recently reevaluated pursuits in the quarterly check.  

Around the house, Shane commented on how suddenly the wood stoves seem to be giving out smoke scents, and I laughed, because they do around this time of year. This house has life of its own and reminds me of comforts to come, warm home lights, home fires, and togetherness. Already I think of hot teas and hot chocolates and all the hygge of home. Yes, please.

I am hearing the kids cleaning up from lunch in the kitchen and I'm getting ready to move into the next phase of the day. Ruth is relentlessly squeaking her ball.

A view of my favorite things

These dogs. Love them.

Ebe-schmeezer-shmo. He's kinda sweet too.

Flowers at my doorstep from a neighbor. And her note, oh that note.

A field cut during a break in the weather. Glorious.

Lanie with me in the garden helping me to weed. So thankful!

At the table, a lunch here with a friend tomorrow. I think the last time we visited was a year ago, and I have a gift I want to give her. I have things to ask her too, about time, healing, grief, acceptance and forgiveness. Or maybe we'll just eat chicken salad and talk about pumpkin recipes and coffee. It can go either way. The forecast is calling for sunshine and I almost can't believe it.

***

He commented on my appearance after I changed for class.

"You're smaller," he said.

And larger than life, I lifted my tank top to show my stomach, and rubbed it in exaggeration, "That's even after a food belly!" And I laughed.

Erin gasped in shock and surprise, "Mom! That's inappropriate!"

And he pulled me close to him, and I was surprised at the spontaneity of it, and he kissed me, and I smiled.

***

In the class, she talked about clay pots and the insides being filled with whatever we put in them, in those empty spaces, how we are filled. I think about friendships and the depth of them, and thoughts and the quality of them, and of the point of it all.

***

I know that I face a choice. I can feel it down inside, and I watch it take place in my heart. I can let my disappointments define my life. Or I can let them take me back to God, to find my life in him in ways I have not yet learned. (Walking With God, John Eldredge, p 184)

Homeschool notes

"Then as the death-dragon raged and roared, rearing up to attack Beowulf again, those chosen few, those trusted comrades-in-arms, who should have rushed to his side in his moment of need, turned away and ran for the safety of the woods, saving their shameful skins, leaving their king to face that flame-belching monster all alone. Only Wiglaf, the youngest there, stood by his lord. He felt the bonds of kinship more keenly than the others. ... He would stay and fight at Beowulf's side" (Beowulf, Michael Morpugo, p78).

This month, focusing long on character. Reading through medieval times. I want to impress these stories upon my kids; even though Grendel and his mom aren't dragging men off from the mead-hall in real life, plenty of battles still exist. Plenty of people fall away.

Today, in science, we are studying angiosperms. And as I read along with Erin with this paragraph, she said to me as I finished, "You sound like you're going to cry."

The things we draw or work on are special to us while we are focused on them. Sadly, we easily forget about the things we have made or done, always moving on to the next thing. Thankfully, God never does that. He is still focusing on His creation. He is diligently working on the details of every single thing that happens on this earth, though he formed it long ago. He sees every caterpillar egg that hatches, every hair on your head, and every tear in your eye. He loves you so much and wants the best for you. He is always making sure that things work out according to His perfect plan for your life. All of nature must obey Him, and He is in control of all things. (Exploring Creation with Botany, Fulbright, 2004)

Amen.

Thanks, God, for speaking to me through the pages of sixth grade science. Thank you for loving me as much as you do.

And still counting (12,508-12,559)

piano music in the house
a goal, achieved
and all the non-scale victories that accompanied it, named and unnamed

encouragement and congratulations from friends
for people who are for me
a good week homeschooling
flowers still in the garden for a botany study
gray shirt day at the house

fitted jackets
a favorite pair of comfy shoes
Beowulf, always, a hero
Sophia
side planks

the run the day after goal, transformed
zinnias
a wood wall, waiting for fall's first
socks on my feet
a fleece jacket in gray

the citrus oil anointing in savasana
my Lord, my God
his sovereignty
books on hold at the library
white chicken chili that fed me three days

buttermilk corn muffins
home
texts with Amy
that man of mine
pumpkin pie spice for $2/bottle

pumpkin pie spice in my morning coffee
flowers on my doorstep from Pamela
and the heartfelt note she wrote to me--treasured
the difference here makes
encouragement

sunnier days
a field cut
"he who watches" healthy, and standing tall, waving
a merry wave from a fellow lawn tractor rider
fragrance, sweet and thick

the arm band for my phone
podcasts on crisis
a surgery date set
strawberry coconut popsicles
pumpkin spice tea

the last slow pages of a book I don't want to finish (Walking with God by John Eldredge)
Erin's biggest smiles leaving her first dance class
her joy at going to church
friendships for her
backbends

$4.99 capris in a smaller size
a favorite pair of black sneakers
mums, revived
Ruth

Oh, but my darling

Losing weight was only part of it--this pursuit of health (mental, emotional, physical). I first got on Lose it! just to see how many calories I was eating daily, but somehow ended up plugging in a weight loss goal and deciding to go for calorie counting/restriction. It wasn't really part of my plan, but I figured, what did I have to lose? (Spoiler alert ...)

I held myself accountable for every sip and crumb. I logged in exercise, and vowed to exercise every day between running, walking and yoga. I didn't skip a day of running and walking--they were my dynamic duo. If the weather was going to be super hot, I got up super early, sometimes running at 6 a.m. And even yesterday, with a goal week on the horizon, I was not going to slow to reach the finish line. I was going to finish strong. And if you're already wet from going one mile, it doesn't feel any different to go three. So I did.

The rainy run with holes in my shoes and wearing Shane's jacket.

"I can't believe I'm going to reach my goal this week," I said to Shane as I hugged him goodbye this morning.

"You could even reach it today," he suggested.

Nah. Not likely.

And that's been the subtle disbelief this whole way. From picking the number of pounds to lose to seeing the results week after week. I wondered, could I really lose twenty-five pounds? It seemed unattainable. And how did I land on that number? I went back to a picture of me at a time that I felt good about myself.

2013

Could I ever get there (after this time of grief and loss and heartache and heaviness)?

Even when I was halfway to goal, it seemed unimaginable that I would cross the finish line.
Even when I was one pound away. (Even when I was One. Pound. Away.)
The goal projection forecast Friday.

It was wrong. (And I was wrong.)

It turned out to be today.

I reached my goal with mixed emotions of joy, shock, relief and delight.

"What will you do after you reach your goal?" Shane had asked me a couple of weeks ago.

Today, I can say, "I'm going to keep running."

It was for more than just losing weight.

The non-scale victories:

I can wear my engagement ring again. I fit into a size medium again. I wore a horizontal striped shirt today and got a compliment on it from a stranger. I can run up the hill. I can run well past the curve of my driveway and not die from it. I can climb up the stairs and go down the stairs without pain (or taking them one step at a time). I can stand in mountain pose without even thinking to lift my heart. I started something and finished it. I pressed on whether it was for the short or long run. I have peace. I can put my socks on my feet. I don't feel embarrassed if my husband walks into the room while I'm changing. I'm setting an example for my kids that health matters--even when you're a mom. I put myself on my priority list. I learned how to quiet my mind. I got to spend time with God. I got to hear song in my heart this past month. My blood pressure is out of the pre-hypertension zone. I am hoping to see lowered ocular hypertension as well! I am making myself the best version of me before surgery. I feel stronger. I am stronger. I practiced perseverance, discipline, diligence, and self-control. I heard the call of southbound geese and cars driving on wet pavement. I saw fallen maple leaves and acorns. I smelled the fragrance of neighbors' gardens.

There is freedom waiting for you,
On the breezes of the sky,
And you ask, "What if I fall?"
Oh, but my darling,
What if you fly?

"What If I Fall" by Erin Hanson

To the woman in the before picture, and even before that, to the one who opened up a goal planner in December and made a promise to herself that this year would be different: you did it.

Me, before

 I look at this before picture and I want to cry for all the pounds that weighed me down, for the body that was slowly stiffening from exposure like the tin man, for the heart hidden and broken inside.

Dear self: you are worth fighting for.

Fly. Fly free.

Love you.

Love, me

And still counting (12,481-12,507)

matching running shoes with Lanie
a great first week of school
flow that kicked my butt
determination to finish strong
song in my heart

welcoming hugs with women at co-op
mums revived
Beowulf
rain
cooler temps

texts from Tracey
Ann, catching up
thoughts of the beach, the ocean, the heavens
66 Books
air conditioning

food in the fridge
pumpkin spice sampler in the mail

rain resistant running jacket on sale
and a gray fleece jacket, hygge!
a Sunday, rainy run

Holes!

a goal week on the horizon
pants for Erin
Trader Joe's pumpkin spice
the last four cans of rf coconut milk
and new pumpkin stuff debuting later this week

that man of mine
happiness

Shuffle

I finished my last Monday yoga class. The instructor talked about change, transitions. For her, job changes, a move, new schools for her kids. For me, schedule changes, health changes, and family changes. I wish I had written down what she said, but not so easy to do from the mat in savasana. The marrow of it was this: whatever season you're leaving, remember it with gratitude for the lessons you learned.

A summer season closes and we transition to fall. The summer was good with goal focus, perseverance, and learning. The summer was hard with trying to keep up, the battling of emotions and actions behind the scenes, seeing hard truth. I've experienced joy, satisfaction, peace, rest and progress. I've experienced betrayal, loss, heartache, anger, fear and disgust.

I always wrestled with the verse that talks about thinking on what's lovely, etc. In all the difficult circumstances I've faced, I felt like I was fooling myself to believe the best about others, when truth revealed I was off the mark. Believing the best about someone else didn't change the circumstance or them.

It changed me.

Yesterday, the thought repeated, "Love protects."

I looked up the verse in 1 Corinthians.

What love doesn't do: envy. Boast. Act haughty. It is not self-seeking. Not easily angered. Does not delight in evil. When I look at this list that is very UNLOVING, I know there was a choice to be made that originates in a heart.

What LOVE DOES: It is patient. It is kind. It keeps no record of wrongs. It rejoices with the truth.

It always protects.
It always trusts.
It always hopes.
It always perseveres.

It never fails.

When I think of offers to love and include that were rejected, it feels like love fails. And when it feels like love fails, it's hard to hope, hard to persevere, hard to trust.

I'm thankful for the repeated words, "Love protects."

Character is built by decisions that originate in the heart. Life is built by decisions that originate in the heart.

When at a crossroad, each of us gets to choose a path. One can walk in anger, envy, pride and evil (and truly, walking with any of those companions leads to the same end--and it's not love.) Or one can walk in love, trust, hope, perseverance. The choice will define us.

In this season of change, I get to choose too. The One Who Loves Me sent me a text, "Here we go again. Storm season." And I felt the chill of double entendre. I brace.

"This week has me all out of sorts," I told Shane this morning. Holiday on Monday. Back to school on Tuesday. New running routines. New classes. I prepared my 66 Books post today because my Thursday mornings are different now. Even the trash pick up schedule this week is different. "I don't even know what day it is."

"It's Friday," he said, leaving for work. And I laughed.

First day of school

Yesterday you would have overheard this on the car ride ...

Lanie, with excitement, ""I can't wait for tomorrow to get back into routines and all the work again!"

And Erin, annoyed, "Can you stop trying to ruin my last day of summer vacation?"

***

Today, an early start with a flow class, a run and step goal for three miles. Lanie was downstairs at five in the morning with her first subject in hand, because that's how she's wired.

We did some back-to-school pictures, baked an applesauce cake, and pretty much enjoyed the day. No one cried. No stress. In fact, there were a lot of laughs.

Happy back to school.

Happy.

Erin with Comet

Goofing around for a science project

Science shoot continued.

I love this. Sneaked around the corner to catch this.

Puppy love

batter

Math!

And still counting (12,444-12,480)

a haircut and color
the hand massage that brought me to tears

a full fridge
several pairs of jeans that are now available to me
pushing past tired and doing it anyway
sleep, even if it's broken
country skies on the drive home

Becky's expression at my (sad) mums
a neighbor who asked me to water her plants
and the sticky nail clings she gave to my girls
running every day
that moment when Diana noticed my weight loss

Rebecca for sharing images of a very special occasion
admission into heart moments
Nora at Home Goods
a big bag of peaches
August

wine in the fridge
Miss Pat at the store
hugs with Erin in the cold aisles
a wood delivery
old photos, good memories, the smiles

clean floors
cold coffee
the music playing in the wine store
Shane, laughing
the awareness and sadness and acceptance of lasts, and honoring the moment

a new school year on the horizon
menus and lessons planned
chia seeds
yoga with Chris
progress

texts with Marshall's Mom
that man of mine
clothes in size medium
sunny days
good morning walks