Journey of 1000 Steps

In March of this year, I stepped on my bathroom scale, afraid to look down. My weight had climbed to a horrific number – 263 pounds – after a decade and a half of minimal physical activity, out-of-control portion sizes, emotionally charged eating binges, and a torrid love affair with carbs.  At 29 years old and clinically labeled “morbidly obese,” I was already suffering the ill effects of carrying nearly 300 pounds on my small 5′ 3″ frame.  For about three years, my feet have ached every morning upon waking, and the pain continued through the day.  The previous several months saw a sharp decrease in my energy levels, which had been already abysmally low.  I was in a place where I’d wake up in the morning and cry because I was so tired and couldn’t find the motivation to get out of bed.  Additionally, my PMS symptoms were horrible.  One day, I yelled and cussed at my poor mother for God remembers what.  It was her birthday.  I felt horrible, but in the back of my mind I was grateful that I had been ugly to her and not my kids; it was she who suggested it seemed hormonal.

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Little Bit O’ Lagniappe [vol. 3]

As I write this, we’re “eastbound and down” on I-10 headed from Houston to New Orleans for the Thanksgiving holiday. I cannot be responsible if the thoughts recorded herein lack organization – I just had a stuffed bear thrown at my head and I am getting real sick of hearing the phrase “I want another snack.”  Oh, and the youngest is licking her arm, so….yeah.

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Little Bit O’ Lagniappe [Vol. 2]

**In Cajun French, “lagniappe” (pronounced ‘lan-yap’)  is a term that means “a little something extra,” or a happy surprise. From time to time, I will write a post that has a bunch of little thoughts all captured in once place; a veritable “snapshot” of my life in the moment. Hopefully, something in the mix catches your eye and you can take a little “lagniappe” with you to brighten your day!


Natural Beauty
Last weekend brought coolish temps to the Houston area, if only for those two days, and I couldn’t be more grateful.  One of the things I love about the house we’re renting is our simple deck.  My husband and I relished the opportunity to wake up with the sun, sit out on our porch with some hot coffee, and just breathe deep the cool air and the sights and sounds of morning breaking.  So simple, but so good for our souls.  Unfortunately, it’s back to the muggies this week.  I can’t wait for that next cool front!

Soundtack of my life

Lately, the song “Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)” by Don McLean has been stalking me.  Every time I get in the car, go into a store, or put my music player on shuffle, that song turns up.  I had never really listened to the lyrics, but since the song is following me everywhere I go, I decided to just sit still for four minutes and three seconds to see what Don had to say about Vincent Van Gogh.  In doing so, I was surprised at the poetry in McLean’s words.  In a way, this song is a work of art itself.  The word choice is beautiful, describing Van Gogh’s famous work: “Shadows on the hills/Sketch the trees and the daffodils/Catch the breeze and the winter chills/In colors on the snowy linen land”  The whole song is like that. Of course, the sadness inherent in the melody is reflective of the sadness of Van Gogh’s life and eventual suicide.  Reflecting on this, I’m reminded of those we’ve lost to suicide throughout the centuries – Marc Antony, Judas, Ernest Hemingway, and most recently, Robin Williams – and reminded to pray for their souls.

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