Back, again.

At roughly 0625 hours, on 5 January, 2010,  I began an abortive attempt at blogging a "better way to live."

I admitted my disease, my powerlessness. I may even have broached that an "-ism" isn't necessarily defined as the addiction to the actual substance, but the mechanics of the things that happen when the drug-of-choice enters your system.

In case you've forgotten, let me remind you. I am an addict. And addicts do what they have always done: feed their addictions. Whether I'm clean or not is inconsequential. What matters is how I live my life. Yes, I'm in recovery. But I'll always have the disease.

So, I haven't 'used' since 1980. And? So what?

I haven't had a drink since 1990. Yeah? Big deal.

I've changed addictions. And, best beloved, there are several. The computer. The phone. Silly home projects into which I've poured my time and efforts...only to half-or partially-complete them. GOOD projects that I over-devote time and effort to, to the chagrin and annoyance of my family.

My current, and most consistently-present "drug" is eating. I eat like I used to drink. Happy? Eat. Sad? Eat. Pissed? Eat. Can't sleep? Eat. Just finished eating? Hell, why put those leftovers away? EAT 'em.

Mostly everyone has seen "WTF" online. Yeah, I bet I know what YOU think it stands for. For ME, it's "WHERE'S THE FOOD???"

And so, I now weigh 254 pounds. I am the most overweight I've ever been in my life. When I was 19, and just leaving Fort Dix, New Jersey (C-7-3 Basic Training Brigade, BOO-yah!) I was a lean, mean, 135-pound trainee. That means I weigh 119 pounds more than I did when I was 19. Like, TWO people walking around in one pair of bib overalls.

A lot has changed, since my last entry (and, to be honest, I'm not going to look back and see when that was.) I retired. Unwillingly. Too many surgeries, too much arthritis, and nobody wants the preexisting conditions with which I arrive. So: short-term disability turned into long-term disability, then that turned into social security disability because, for some reason, my cartilage is disappearing like the dew on this morning's grass. Pssssst! Gone. That condition doesn't keep me from doing a lot of fun things. Just work things. Traditional work things. So, I do a little work, I have a little fun, and get through the day. I get stuff done. But not enough.

Time to work the steps. Time to LIVE the steps. And the bible. And the radical acceptance and situational awareness my VA counselor has been teaching us these last years.

So, what's changed? Besides my body shape, BMI, weight? I'm diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis. I self-inject Methotrexate once a week. Our little boy is growing up, and he's more of a handful to chase and entertain. We're still vegan. "Pasta is the other white meat." "Bread is the OTHER, other white meat." HUGE portions are the norm (and the bane of my health!) Sugar...oh, gratuitously added sugar! What the hell am I DOING to myself?

And, now: baby steps. I've not added any sugar to my coffee for three or four days. I'm taking ONE cup of coffee per day, with green or herbal teas (AND NO SUGAR) for the rest of the day, with no caffeine after midday. I'm eating slowly. Conscientiously. Maintaining portion awareness. I SIT after I eat; I don't automatically leap up for seconds...and discover I don't necessarily want seconds. If I do, veggies are plentiful in this house. The cheap, Dollar General cookies are tasty, and "just LITTLE cookies," but THREE are a serving, not seventeen. I can't seem to limit them, so...I don't buy them. I make a CONSCIENTIOUS EFFORT to stay the hell out of the icebox after dinner's over, the dishes washed, and the extras all put away.

Now, It's only been a couple of days since my VA doctor looked at me with that "LOOK" on her face. That look that says "Despite everything I've told you, despite everything you SAY you know, you're heavier now than the last time we had this little pow-wow." I know, I KNOW! I get short of breath, bending over to tie my shoes. I get winded, coming up the stairs. It's hard for me to get into rides at Kings Island. Some of the safety equipment SQUISHES me to bits. I'm heading toward "Sorry, you can't safely ride this attraction if the harness doesn't fit."

Screw that crap.

This morning, after a couple days of moderation, I weigh 251.6 pounds (-2.4#!) I'm using the MyFitnessPal app by Under Armour to log my caloric intake, and as soon as I get a Garmin tracker, I'll be linking that to the account. One day at a time, I'm going to be a living example of the stewardship of body God intended for us all. It helps that I have a SUPER accountability partner. She's also my diet tech (registered) and best friend, too. As another friend put it, "It's a sack race: we're in it together."

Hi; my name is Steve, and I'm powerless over my addiction to food. Today, it's been 72 hours since I took my life back, 72 hours since I took the fork out of my carotid artery, and decided to QUIT committing "suicide by the mouthful." Again.  I need to immerse myself in purpose, in work, in the service of the loving God Who relieved me of the obsession to use, to drink, and I trust will relieve me of the obsession  to overeat.

Second day of 2014, and I have a mission this year. 

Well...I did, LAST year, too. And, in 2012. Things got in the way.

2011 was surgery and job issues and job hunting. Bitterness along the way. Anger as a side dish.  Got a job, the promises made faded like last spring's clouds. But, it was work. Good work, because I got to share with and meet people of like mind. More tree-huggin' plant-eaters. 

Things went well until my joints began committing mutiny again. First my knee, then my foot...yes, THAT foot, the one I had repaired in 2011. Then the same knee. And, the same foot. In fact, I was in recovery from not one, not just two, nay even three, but four separate surgical procedures this year, between May and November.  And, three invasive treatments, to boot. 

And, I walk no better than I had. So, I had to retire.Now, retirement sounds like it'd be fun...and, it IS. Really. I am thrilled. Just...I kinda thought I had a few more years of clock-punching to do before this. It sorta slipped up behind me, and smacked me in the ass. Not that I'm complaining. Just wish it had given me a little more warning. God, however, is good ALL the time, and He has provided, in His infinite wisdom, a measure of financial security that seems pretty bullet-proof. All of which yields an incredibly intriguing way for me to occupy some time: School! 

Yessir-ee-Bob, I'm a college student! Not in the traditional manner: I'm a senior citizen level course auditor. I attend, cost-free. I don't get a grade, but what the hell, I've got a BS (and, THAT means what it sounds like: BS) in one discipline. Who needs another set of letters? It's not like I can throw out anymore resumes. No...I'm going to learn some formal manners by which to write; some actual rules to bend when I'm taking pictures. Next semester? ASL. I've been dawdling along, trying to learn at least a word or two per week, to share with my Little Buddy Sunshine, but have failed kinda miserably. He does know SOME words (signs) but I know he's the capacity for more, and I owe it to him to help him become all he can. Besides...communication is what this old bullshit-artist does best. More'n one girl has fallen in love with the way I turn a phrase. Now it's time to share that capacity with those that can't hear. To borrow a phrase from "Fifty Shades," my inner cheerleader secretly wishes to be the ASL interpreter at the next concert you attend.

Actually, my inner cheerleader is building quite the bucket list:
1) Children's book
2) Short story (non-fiction)
3) Romantic pap fiction that makes the girlies swoon
4) Cookbook (Veg*n, of course)
5) Year in pictures book
6) Short sci-fi
7)...and so forth.

You may hove noticed I mentioned Veg*nity. Yes, I quietly climbed over the fence to THAT school of thought. And, as you may also have noticed, three months into said animal-product-lessness, I'm not wasting away to naught. Nor falling away to a ton. Some weight loss has been achieved: From flirting with the 230's and above, to ringing in at under 225...sometimes close to 220 or lower (Oh, saints and hayrakes, the holidays rip EVERYBODY a new ass...or waistline...). I am proud to say that I neither consumed ANY cookies or snacks this season that contain butter, cream, cheese (THAT was a bitch...) and only VERY little of the famed and fabled Cranberry Mold my sister-in-law makes. Lemme 'splain:

For those of you who don't understand Veg*nism, there are some degrees and levels to which we all subscribe. Straight out Veg*nism means that we not only don't eat meat, nor do we eat any other animal products: Broths, bouillons, milks, cheeses, butters, fats...any food products associated with the slaughter or 'domination/enslavement' of animals. That's 'dietary Veg*nism.' 'Ethical Veg*nism' means not only eschewing the chewing, but the WEARING as well, of animal products: Leather, feathers, skin, fins, isinglass-fined beverages, gelatin-encapsulated drugs, calcium diet supplements, leather shoes, belts, etc...the list is a LONG one, and you'd be absolutely amazed at what it contains.  

Some of us are all IN...some of us cut our losses at a certain limit. Take me: I eat white sugar (Yeah, yeah, yeah, Dr. Oz and his carbohydrate police have a warrant out for my arrest) and honey. "WTF," you ask, "is wrong with white sugar and honey?" White sugar is made white by passing the syrup through activated charcoal. Bone char, in about 40% of the production in the US.(http://www.vegsource.com/jo/qa/qasugar.htm)

So, yeah, if you're really against animal cruelty, factory farming, etc, there's a good case for avoiding cane sugar. Beet sugar doesn't require the bone treatment, but as a caveat, it does NOT bake the same way as cane sugar. 

And, honey? Requires the captive presence of a queen bee (special hive structure KEEPS her there, so the workers and drones have something to do) and, thus is considered by some to be exploitation. Anybody that's seen "Bee Movie" (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0389790/fullcredits?ref_=tt_ov_st_sm) knows that bees are gonna make honey. Whether WE interfere or not, and whether we harvest it or not. As opposed to milk production, which requires the inhumanity of vacuum machines, rGBH, GMO god-playing and  the abject cruelty (in more cases than not) of brainless handlers, apiarists care deeply for their hives, and never use pitchforks, cattle prods, tire irons or gelding rings on bees.I also take pills. In or around every pill I take (arthritis, blood pressure, cholesterol, etc) is a certain amount of gelatin. Boiled animal bones and hooves. Yup. There's no way around it. "Oh," you chide, "yes there IS! Take your healthy diet and SUPPLEMENT it with supplements." I'd love to. But YOU don't have to crawl out of bed every morning in the agony to which I've been treated, since the first time I woke up with arthritis. I do. So...I'm gonna eat honey, bake with white sugar, and take my pills. It's a journey, not a rule-book. We all take different routes. 

Now, one might assume that I'm militant in my approach to Veg*nism. That every post is a PERSONAL ATTACK on YOU. Nope, nyet, nuh-uh, nein. I am as peace-loving as they come. Really. If you want to eat a sirloin burger with bacon, three kinds of cheese and pork cracklin' crudites, hunker in on it, man. It's ALL you.  Don't tell me what I'm missing, because I gotta tell you, if it's to be eaten, I've probably already EATEN it. I am almost fifty-seven. I'd been raised as a meat-eatin' FOOL. Daddy would lay a half pound of rare roast beef on a NYC hard roll with a load of Hellman's on it, salt and pepper and NO lettuce, TYVM, and the nuns would look at OUR lunch and say how SINFUL it was that WE ate as much on one sandwich as a 'poor African refugee ate in a month...' Va, fon tu culo. Daddy worked so we COULD eat well. So, yeah, I ate meat. And gave it up. Don't look at this as my attack on YOU. I hate factory farming and Big Ag, Monsanto and the science project that uses US as guinea pigs. I don't hate YOU. Gawd, I hate having to explain this as people's blood pressure rises. Only other leaf-chasers can understand the ecological impact of over-intensive farming, the waste of resources, the absolute insanity of the concept of 'more-more-more.' I have to come up with a way to say that this is my non-violent objection to exploitation.

This said, please feel free to follow me, comment, share your thoughts. If you really wanna lambaste me or embrace me, but feel somewhat timid about coming outta the closet  for activism, send me an email. I understand. We are ALL crewmates on Spaceship Earth.

Keep coming back; it DOES work, if you work it. So, work it, you're worth it. 

Wow. Nothing written in 2012. A whole year of nothing. 
And, zip-ah-dee-doo-dah in 2013. 
2014 is going to be different. DIFFERENT, I tell ya!

...on the mend...and dreaming in color!

So, I had surgery a couple of weeks ago. Nothing BIG or SERIOUS. Just bone spurs, but whatta PAIN, huh? Wheelchair for the first ten days or so, crutches around the house. Stairs? Well...let's just say that crawling, in a bathrobe in a medication-induced fog ain't pretty. My poor mother-in-law has seen more of my hairy nether regions than she cares to admit. Poor woman. Probably had nightmares. Anyway, I've been laid pretty low since the 26th of April. And, getting porkier, all the time. Uh huh, I'm damn near back at the weight I  was when I began this trek. Yeah, I know you're supposed to boost protein intake, in order to heal from ANY operation, even stupid little ones, but... I'm looking out my back window, and there's a little tiny bunny rabbit out there; you can JUST see his little ears. Reminds me of ME, looking at my feet; I can JUST see them, poking out from underneath me. Yesterday, I sat on the porch, and began taking loose nails out of the boards, in preparation to remove said porch for renovation. THIS morning, I think I'll continue, in an effort to again, get OFF my ass and OUT from in fronna this electronic addiction, and actually DO something that makes me sweaty and tired.

Meanwhile I've re-invented the frankfurter; of all the things a person could miss, going pescatarian, I miss frankfurters. Oh, yeah, and Lee's livers and gizzards. Possibly the three WORST things I could eat: not just organ meat, but DEEP FRIED, SODIUM-INFUSED organ meat. And hot dogs? If ya don't know what to have, eat a hot dog; they have EVERYTHING in 'em. Oh, yeah, reinventing them: I looked up 'home-made hotdogs' online, got a list of the spices, and then adjusted the weight of required meat and beef fat to the same amount of seitan. Dawn thought highly of them. As a matter of fact, she's eaten over half the recipe, for lunch this past week.  Here, try it: http://recipes.sparkpeople.com/recipe-detail.asp?recipe=1628956

I don't know if I've shared any recipes in the past, but go there; all the ones I've published are there on Spark People. Try 'em. Read 'em. Comment on 'em. Whether you're just interested in different foods, vegetable-based diets for YOUR sake, or the sake of annie-mules, or whatever reason, give it a look-see. As with this forum, I've received a couple of nice comments, which is very cool. It helps me overcome this nervousness, this fear of rejection from which I suffer.

And, speaking of rejection/acceptance...the other night, I was maundering, thinking grand thoughts, idealizing wonderful ideas, when, dreaming out loud, I said, "I wonder if Carlisle would be accepting of the idea of a COMMUNITY GARDEN?" My lifemate, my princess, my love answers back, "Whyn't you email the mayor? He's in your Facebook buddy list..."

So, I did. Emailed; set an appointment to chat with Hizzonor. Hadda reschedule. Then, last night, we met, and tabled some SERIOUS ideas. SERIOUS thought. We even went and visited the one primary site where this could happen. Can you say "PUMPED"??? Holy Mother Earth News, dude, we're all smiling as we  leave that grassy field, because a) it CAN be done! and b) the far-reaching ramifications can be ASTOUNDING.

All because my wife gave me the nudge. See what the right partner can do for you? See what having someone BELIEVE in you can do? Now, all we have to do is get it past Village Council, draft a mission statement, and get started. Maybe not THIS year; it could be too late. But NEXT year? Katie, bar the door!

When I started this blog, I had a certain direction in which I wanted it to go. Strangely enough, it's gone in the GENERAL direction, but not quite exactly where I had envisioned it. Yeah, it's still about getting better in mind, body and spirit, but it's not about ME. I don't give a fig to 'change the world.' I just ain't got the poop. But...I can make a small corner of it greener. Maybe if I pray, and ask God, and seek the help of my neighbors, I can be part of educating the next generation to feed themselves better, treat the land better, come together as a real community. And, not have such an uphill fight as I am.

I'm gonna go outside and play.

Heavenly Father, thank you for keeping me outta the skull-junk this morning. Thank you for an interesting meeting with Tim. May what I do, here, and what WE do, as a civilization, glorify YOUR name and expand YOUR kingdom...not for our sake, but Thine, and, as with all things, I ask these in the name of your victorious Son, Jesus Christ.

An update...of sorts.

Hmmm...another year has birthed, right under our noses. Remember that last full post? October 2010? Where I had an interview? I got the job. Yuppers. I did. Work at Dorothy Lane Market, Oakwood, OH. Been there seven months, now, and love it. You may have seen, in FaceBook, how I cook there, and bring home inspirations to share with my family. It's again' the rules to bring home actual RECIPES, so I commit what I can to memory, and heave forth from there.

BTW...speaking of food, my darling dearest has been on a vegan kick-start for the last two weeks. That ends Sunday, which is Easter. I've been working the REST of the animal kingdom out of our menu, for the time being, and she's at the crux of a decision: vegan or simply ovo-lacto-pescatarian. Harder to say, but somewhat more enjoyable, for yours truly. S%it, I ENJOY the challenge of veganism. I just like fish. And eggs. And cheese. Yeah, I'm a dairy kinda guy. Don't get me wrong, I made a vegan pizza a couple weeks back, COMPLETELY vegan...and the cheese-alternative was, while not exACTly mozzarella, a pretty interesting substitute. People ask me if FISH don't suffer gross injustice and horrendous abuses. I'm not sure. I would guess that they do. Nah, I'm sure. Factory-farmed ANYTHING is wrong. I just cling tightly to the fact that since January of 2010, I, personally, have eaten NO footed critters. I do eat dairy and ocean fish, but in WAY lower quantities than I used to. If I could find compassionate sources for these products, I would gladly switch over to them. I may be naive, but now, I can pass by a field of cows and not feel quite so bad.

Gardening time is almost here. Time to set out seedling pots, and start watching for the emerging plants...I grabbed some seed-corn out of one of t local fields, last autumn, walking with my Babe. Can't wait to just plant it, to see what comes of it. I just wanna say that I planted and grew corn. For the hell of it. I also grabbed some jalapeno seeds from a pepper I dressed out at home, and one from work. It was a fat-boy; maybe if I can cross the two... Oh, crap, I don't really care, I just wanna say that I've GROWN jalapenos, MYSELF. And, research the technique of SMOKING them. My own chipotle...(http://bbq.about.com/od/fruitandvegetables/ss/aa100607a.htm)

Alla this in light of the fact that I face another surgical procedure next week. Bone spurs. If nothing else, I can tend the vegetables, George, and cook, sitting down a LOT when I need to. And, while I'm here, maybe I need to come out of the closet: I want to WRITE. I have tons of story lines in my head. And, I waste enough time in front of the computer to have written "War and Peace" three times over. So, how about a resolution:

Every week, from here out, I'll write for TWO HOURS a week, on one of my days off. JUST two hours, followed by something NON-COMPUTER for the resta the day.

Gardein Giveaway - Mercy For Animals

Gardein Giveaway - Mercy For Animals

Click here for a chance to win this far-out, cruelty-free food item...

Ten months...

So, here we are, on the twenty-second of October. I would guess that I've been meat-free for about ten months, now, and have the blood work to show for it. The icebox is still a mayhem, however, because Momma still insists that she buy and buy like we were all still carnivores, not just her, Dyllan and our new addition, Bethany. Oh, hell, I'm not knocking it. Or them. I don't expect my twisted belief system to become anything like a trend, any time soon. Dawn and I just choose not to partake in the flesh of footed animals. No soapbox, no sermon. We don't eat things with feet.

I've been out of work for a few months, now. Not such a long story; just not gonna share it. Fallout? Wow. Based upon said job loss was the loss of three of my children (temporarily? In whole or part? Who the heck knows. Certainly, yours truly has no clue.) Also in the wings were a union hearing, a court hearing, and two impending department of labor hearings. 

At first, I waited to get my job back. And, applied for jobs and jobs. Then, I gave up on getting my job back, and applied for even MORE jobs. STUPID jobs, jobs relative to what I had just been doing, any job...over 80 apps have been sent out, over 80 disappeared in the wind. I've had a couple of interviews...but got 'Dear Johns' out of alla them. WTH...times are hard for everybody. ONE bright note is that we were able to refinance the primary mortgage on our residence, and save a WAD of money; which, sadly, will have to be applied to our rental in NY state, because the damned escrow shortfall boosted THAT payment to a new level. Again, WTH. The sun shines, and the rain falls, on everyone.  I'm thinking about a new raincoat, because I'm over fifty, I'm disabled, and I have a frame-up against me. I do believe that I've joined the ranks of the unemployable. Call me a pessimist, but I have to say, I've applied for jobs that the only qualification appears to be that you can fog up a mirror, and been blown off. Hell, I can't even get a spot as a Walmart greeter...and you've SEEN some of those folks. 

BUT!!!

Before I get too ensconced on the pity-pot, I must needs take inventory: We still HAVE two houses, with three mortgages, upon which we still CAN make payments. We still have food on the table, and haven't been forced to decide which of us can go hungry tonight, for the honor of the rest of us eating. We still HAVE medical coverage, so our health needn't go begging. We still make our weekly offering to God and His church (Tithe? Not tithe? That's between God and us; I'm not telling, and I'm sure He's not gonna spill the beans, either) because HIS glory is WAY greater than MY troubles. Screw you, satan. (No capitalization of his name; he doesn't get the respect of that convention.) Dawn and the kids still love me; our new grandson loves me (I'm pretty sure, anyway) and even our son, Dyllan's girlfriend is fond of me. And...I'm still clean and sober. Still. And, until roughly 0615 tomorrow morning, I'm firm in the belief that God has a plan for me, and, 24 hours at a time, He'll continue to keep it in place until I discover what it is. Until then, I think I'm gonna get up off my less than fat ass and DO something. 

Yesterday, I mowed the lawn, mulching the leaves, collecting them and placing them in the garden to add organic matter to the soil (which, if I left it alone, would be PERFECT for bricks.) The garden is out; the ornamental plants are gone, their potting soil screened and sealed in buckets, ready for next year. The big limbs are cut into pieces for the fireplace, the little limbs for a bonfire (Dyllan and Bethany think those are romantic) and the outside is nearly done for the year. Maybe another day's work to finalize that. 

Next, to put the final touches on the remodel that began LAST year at this time. Putting that to bed will be a relief. I let it get away from me, grew lazy, got overwhelmed...my own damned fault. Dawn deserves better. God expects MORE. It's called "stewardship." Time to get out from under this keyboard. Facebook, Yahoo and all the other electronic meth will still be there when my work is done. And, to be sure, no one will miss me while I'm gone. If they do, they can always text my cell phone. Besides, I've done the obligatory 'two job applications' for the department of labor this week. 

Hmmmm...just got off the phone with the absolute FINEST grocery store in the area; perhaps the state. They wanna look at me for one of their cooks. I have an interview in a few hours. Gotta shave my head and face, suit up and show up. See ya later.

Hey, Daddy? Just in case this is the job You had in mind for me, please don't let me blow the interview. And, thanks in advance FOR the interview. I...WE appreciate it.