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Year Three, Day 247: Memories of Food II

I slept much better last night. I arrived at my daughter and son-in-law's trailer about 10:00 p.m. I felt calm and content after my adventure at the late night Starbucks. I had a lovely hot cup of "Peach Tranquility" herbal tea. I finished my second week of video lectures and quizzes for the classical music course I'm taking from Yale University online through Coursera. Fun class. I am thoroughly enjoying it and learning quite a bit - even though I've been studying classical music most of my 56 years!

56. It is surreal. So close to 60! Yet I find that there is a freedom in aging. I have slowed down. Enjoying the moment more. Not as concerned with the superficial components of life.

Which leads me to the topic of this post: FOOD.

It has been the center of my life for 56 years. And suddenly, this afternoon, I decided to take it down a few notches.

"Eat to live, not live to eat", as my mother told me over breakfast last week. Right before she ordered a warm cinnamon roll "because she deserved it!"

I come from a long line of food addicts.

And last night, as I settled down to try and sleep, listening to Baby Gracie's gentle breathing and Honey Dawg's snoring, I had a moment of anxiety. Instead of drifting off to blissful slumber, I felt my mind waking up.

No! Not again! I simply couldn't imagine another sleepless night!

I had soft ckassical music playing. I had my cell phone on my purse, so as not to tempt me. I tried breathing slowly. I prayed. I counted sheep.

Still my mind was wide awake. Then, it suddenly occurred to me to count food. As in, every pleasurable meal I had ever eaten. It worked! The first thing that popped into my head was the bran muffins I used to order at The Holland Restaurant in Vancouver where my mom and I would frequently have breakfast.

It would arrive warm, with a pat of real butter melting on top. And it would practically melt in my mouth. I can still recall the taste. I cannot remember what my mom and I talked about. But I remember that muffin! I smiled behind closed eyes and let my mind pull up another food memory. Who needs Google anyway? I just say, "Brain, show me memories of food!" And ouila!

My next memory hit me hard.  I could almost taste the salty, creamy, comfort of my mother's tamale casserole. The cornmeal polenta type crust was creamy inside and slightly crusty on top.  Underneath lay a ground beef, onion and tomato sauce mixture, seasoned with salt, pepper, chili powder and cumin. She always decorated the crust with my beloved black olives.

Interesting the feelings these food memories evoke.  Feelings of comfort, love, safety, pleasure.

It occurred to me today, that I can dredge up these memories, but from here on out, perhaps I should make memories with people.

Instead of food.

Just a thought.  Perhaps I am finally ready to shed this weight.  Perhaps it has been insulating my feelings all these years.

I shall have to ponder that. But tomorrow, I am going to just eat for fuel. See how that feels.

I would love to see the scale start moving again. Downward!

On another note, I love my new backpack!  It puts very little pressure on my shoulders. And although I carried just as much stuff as usual, it was much lighter!

A happy camper, err...walker, am I!






And on that note, I wish you a lovely evening.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Sweet dreams, or perhaps salty and savory?

Love,

Zita

P.S. Here is today's hooping video. I'm on Day 209!


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