Why and How I Choose to Eat Healthy
A little about my background — I have struggled with weight issues since I was in high school. About ten years ago, I was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes and put on oral medications. Four or five years ago, I had my gall bladder removed. You would think because of all these things, I would have been committed to a more healthy lifestyle a long time ago. So, why wasn’t I?
Here are some of the reasons: 1) during my high school years, whenever I wanted to try dieting to lose weight, my mom wanted to support and encourage me, but another family member made a habit of sabotaging us; 2) born and raised in Pennsylvania Dutch Country, the land of whoopie pies, shoo-fly pie, chicken pot pie (not baked in a pie shell), and many other high carb high sugar foods, unhealthy eating is a normal way of life; and 3) as a mom, I am much better at taking care of others than I am at taking care of myself because I always put others first.
So, if you look at the above photo, you will see the third book from the left is the most recently published THM (Trim Healthy Mama) cookbook. Three years ago, a friend encouraged me to try THM and I did, and with that friend’s constant encouragement, I succeeded in sticking to the THM healthy eating way of life for an entire year and lost fifty pounds. Then two years ago, right before Christmas, our oldest son had to have major jaw surgery, and his poor face was so swollen and bruised when he first came home, and he couldn’t really eat anything. So I committed to taking care of making sure he was getting enough nourishment in the few items (smoothies, broths, liquids) he could receive, then gradually graduating to soft foods, before slowly being able to begin incorporating normal foods back into his diet. So, because I focused all my energy on caring for him, I fell back into eating the way I had been raised to eat–the Pennsylvania Dutch way. Amazingly, though I did gain some weight back, I did not gain all fifty pounds back, even though I continued on this path for just about two years.
Then, July 10th of this year, I went to the ER with chest pains. I was given and EKG, chest x-rays, and bloodwork — all came back normal. I then realized the pain was similar to what I’d had before having my gall bladder removed, and I told the doctor, who told me that just because I didn’t have a gall bladder anymore didn’t mean I couldn’t still get gall stones. So he decided to check the ducts in my body, so I was given an ultrasound, which they had a difficult time with because my stomach was filled with gas. However, my pain was completely gone after the completion of that test. Then I began to wonder if it was all due to my bad eating habits. Well, the doctor order one more round of bloodwork, and the only thing he found was that my liver enzymes were extremely high. He decided to send me home with the stipulation that within the following three days, (this was a Wednesday), I would call my family doctor, have him order the bloodwork again, then see my family doctor. I did that, with the same conclusion. My family doctor sent me home with orders to get the bloodwork redone in a week and to get back to healthy eating, then I may or may not have to see a gastroenterologist. I went home with a new determinate to commit to the THM plan for the rest of my life because I knew it worked for me in the past for a whole year.
I returned to eating according to the THM way that very evening and haven’t looked back since and don’t plan to, because the following week’s bloodwork came back with my sugar level lower and my liver enzyme count back to normal. No trip to the gastroenterologist.
So, what is the THM way to eat, you may ask. Well, I struggle to understand the entire plan, but in a nutshell, it’s eating high protein, low-carb, and no white bread, no white sugar, and no white potatoes. It’s also eating healthy fats, but separates fats and carbs to allow the metabolism to function at its best. It’s focus is low-glycemic.
My biggest problem with the plan, in the past, is all the prep work for many of the recipes. I don’t have a lot of time to spend in the kitchen, nor do I really want to spend a lot of time in the kitchen. That’s why you see the other two cookbooks in the above photo. The internet is full of women who eat the THM way and who enjoy creating their own THM friendly recipes. My favorite is Brianna Thomas. I’ve been following her blog since I started THM, and she has created two cookbooks of her THM friendly recipes, and she uses simple, everyday ingredients, and because she’s from a similar background to the Amish and Mennonite community in my area, many of her recipes are healthy versions of foods my family is used to eating, and the majority of her recipes are not time-consuming.
Now, I’ll just touch on the four products you can see in the above photo: the little green bottle is liquid stevia. Stevia is a natural, plant-based sweetener, not a chemical, and I love to use this liquid version in my THM drink recipes, especially the cold ones, because I don’t have to struggle to get it to dissolve. The little bag next to it is Pyure, which is a stevia/erythritol blend (natural sweetener) which I like to use in my baking. The box of 100% pure Oolong tea is a staple in the THM shrinker drink, which helps in the aid of weightloss. The final product is THM’s brand of whey protein (non-flavored) that can be added to smoothies and baking products and shakes to boost the protein, and I like that it doesn’t have a flavor that will affect the taste of the final product.
In conclusion, I am back on track with the THM plan and it wasn’t hard to get back on board, and I am committed to sticking with it for life so that I can remain healthy and live as long as possible to be here for my family and to continue writing good stories, especially since the first one is almost ready for publication. This really plan does keep my sugars and weight under control.
Sorry for the long post! I hope you found it interesting, informative, and helpful. If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to post in the comments section.
Flash Fiction Friday
What If?
by Kelly F. Barr
Was he making a mistake? They say you can’t go back in time. Thirty years had passed and he was pushing fifty. Could it just be a mid-life crisis?
She hadn’t crossed his mind in years. But then he’d found that old shoebox—the one he’d hidden way back in his closet, the one that held letters and photos faithfully sent to him during the four years he’d spent in the marines.
Maybe he’d started thinking about Carly again because he’d found the box or maybe he was lonelier than he wanted to admit. The kids were grown … had their own lives now, and it had been six years since his wife passed away.
He carried the shoebox to the living room, sat in his favorite chair, and removed the lid. He picked up the first envelope and carefully withdrew its contents. Two sheets of paper with cursive writing on every line. No one writes cursive anymore.
He read letter after letter, traveling back in time in his mind. Then he withdrew the contents of another envelope and found a picture of Carly standing near a tree smiling, strands of her long blonde hair blowing over the left side of her face and her blue-green eyes sparkling. She was a beauty. The letter accompanying the photo was the one—the one that made him a fool—the one where she had suggested they might spend some time together the next time he was home on leave.
That letter that had changed their relationship. Fresh out of high school and he’d enlisted in the marines. Carly promised to write to him the entire four years he would serve.
But when he’d received this letter, he wrote back, informing her he had a girlfriend.
Jenna had been that girlfriend, and Jenna was the girl he married upon his discharge.
Carly had been hurt. The cursive of her next letter had angry slants and dark punctuation marks. Her pen bled, How could you let me think you might be interested in me? How could you tell me how much my letters and photos meant to you—ask for more photos—when you have a girlfriend? What, are you … one of those men with a different woman in every port!
He hadn’t expected to ever hear from her again, but a month later another letter arrived, and her letters continued until his discharge. Carly had kept her promise despite the hurt he’d inflicted upon her.
What would happen if he found her … went to see her? Would she be happily married? Could there be anything between them? He wanted to try—needed to know.
A Google search found a Carly Nelson who was a songwriter. Could she be his Carly Nelson? He clicked a link and a photo popped up. A twenty-something woman with auburn hair and brown eyes.
Next he tried Facebook and found a Carly Nelson Winchester and clicked her profile photo to make it bigger. The photo filled his laptop screen. It was her—his Carly. She had a few more lines around her eyes, some silver streaks in her hair, but the smile was unmistakable. Another click and he read about her. She was still in Pennsylvania, married with four children. He searched her photos, but none of the recent photos showed a man with her.
He opened another tab, searched the airlines, and booked a ticket on the next flight to Pennsylvania. He packed a carry-on bag then lay on the bed to try to sleep but the butterflies in his stomach and the drum pounding a rhythm in his chest wouldn’t let him.
He closed his eyes and memories of working with Carly at the shoe store in the mall flowed through his mind like an old movie: Carly laughing at his corny jokes, teasing him about another female employee she knew had a crush on him, but never letting on she might be interested.
He rose from his bed, grabbed his carry-on, walked out the door of his apartment locking it behind him. Sitting behind the steering wheel of his red classic Ford Mustang, he placed his hands on the wheel, rested his head on them, and prayed this wasn’t a mistake. That Carly might be glad to see him … be willing to give him another chance.
At the Harrisburg Airport, he rented a car and drove into Lancaster … to the address the internet listed as hers. When he pulled up in front of the house, his palms grew sweaty and his throat dry because there she was … his Carly, sitting in a wooden rocking chair on the porch.
As he brought his rental car to a stop and shut off the engine, she rose to her feet and moved to the porch steps. He slid out of the car, walked around the back, and started a slow trek up the walkway. She moved a couple steps, then stopped, tears trickling down her cheeks—tears of joy or something else?
When he stood before her, she reached out a hand as if to touch his cheek, then stopped and let the hand drop. Her eyes searched his. “Keith … Keith Phillips?”
He offered a hesitant smile and nodded. Was that sadness in her eyes?
“It’s been such a long time. What are you doing here?”
Wordless Wednesday
Tea and Poetry Tuesday
Today’s Tea Tidbit:
“I like the pause that tea allows.” — Waris Ahluwalia
Blackberrying
by SYLVIA PLATH
Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,
Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,
A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea
Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flattening their sides.
Overhead go the choughs in black, cacophonous flocks—
Bits of burnt paper wheeling in a blown sky.
Theirs is the only voice, protesting, protesting.
I do not think the sea will appear at all.
The high, green meadows are glowing, as if lit from within.
I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies,
Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chinese screen.
The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them; they believe in heaven.
One more hook, and the berries and bushes end.
The only thing to come now is the sea.
From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me,
Slapping its phantom laundry in my face.
These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt.
I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me
To the hills’ northern face, and the face is orange rock
That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal
The Gold Son by Carrie Anne Noble
I was so excited when I met Carrie Anne Noble at the Realm Makers book stand at our local homeschool convention this year, especially when I found out that she’s written a book about Leprechauns! I have not heard of any other authors writing fiction fantasy stories about Leprechauns, so I knew I had to buy this book. I also bought Ms. Noble’s first book, which I will read and do a review on at a later date.
SUMMARY OF THE BOOK, BASED ON BACK COVER BLURB:
The Gold Son is about a human boy named Tommin. He is an ordinary sixteen-year-old who wants to make beautiful shoes and take care of his granny. The thing about Tommin that is not ordinary is his insatiable need to steal. He’s driven by a curse that demands more and more gold.
One day the mysterious Lorcan Reilly comes to town with his “niece”, Eve. Tommin believes Lorcan wants to help him, but instead Lorcan whisks him off to the underground realm of the Leprechauns, where he and Eve are forced to prepare to become one of them.
Eventually, Tommin and Eve find themselves falling in love with one another, and they begin to plan their escape. However, things don’t go according to plan, and Tommin’s humanity is slipping away. If Eve can’t find the remedy in time, Tommin will be destined to become a thieving trickster for all eternity.
MY REVIEW:
I have to say that I had trouble getting hooked into the story. I felt that the beginning seemed a little slow and repetitive.
In chapter three when Lorcan Reilly and Eve came on the scene, things began to pick up, but I didn’t really get caught up in the story until they were in the underground realm of Leprechauns. There things became interesting as other characters were introduced and Tommin’s struggles began — struggles of missing his Granny and wanting to return home; struggles as his urges to steal gold became almost unbearable and affected his health. As his feelings for Eve strengthened and problems continued to keep them apart, I couldn’t stop turning pages to see if they would overcome the issues and finally be together.
An unexpected twist made me gasp and nearly broke my heart, but I kept turning pages. Now I had to know how this book would end.
In the end, I enjoyed the book and its characters. Ms. Noble’s portrayal of the Leprechauns and their realm was very interesting. I had never researched much about Leprechauns. What I thought was that they guarded the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and that they wore green clothing and shamrocks. Ms. Noble showed me new things about Leprechauns that I didn’t know and I found it all very fascinating.
I do think the book is geared more for middle grade readers, which is not my normal reading material, but I enjoyed The Gold Son and look forward to reading Ms. Noble’s first book, The Mermaid’s Sister in the near future.
Flash Fiction Friday: An Unexpected Blind Date
Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash
Nervous tension filled me as I waited for my date to arrive. When he showed up on a motorcycle I thought I would faint. Did he really expect me to climb onto the back of a motorcycle with a complete stranger? I must’ve been crazy to allow Charissa to talk me into signing up with this dating service.
However, when he took his helmet off, my heart did a flip. His hair hung in dark waves just over his shirt collar. Then he turned those baby blues on me, and I was a goner.
He swung off the motorcycle and stood before me—head and shoulders taller than me, and my heart started break-dancing in my chest while butterflies filled my stomach.
“You must be Callie. I’m Wade Carson.”
His oh-so-smooth voice rolled over me like a refreshing summer rain. “Uh, yeah, I’m Callie.”
“I hope you don’t mind riding on my bike?” He quirked an eyebrow at me.
I looked at the motorcycle then back to him and cleared my throat. “No, that’s fine. I mean, you just rode it, how far to get here, and you arrived safely.” I released a nervous giggle.
He chuckled. “It was a forty-five minute drive, and don’t worry, I’m a careful driver. I have an extra helmet.” He moved back to the bike, lifted a helmet from the far side, and held it out to me.
I moved closer, took the helmet and inspected the bike. I didn’t see any handholds for the passenger. I looked into his blue eyes. “What am I supposed to hold onto?”
“Me.” He winked and grinned, displaying two deep dimples.
I forced myself not to fan my hand in front of me, but this was so not what I expected from a dating service. I thought only desperate losers resorted to sign up with dating services. “Okay.”
He helped me strap the helmet under my chin, then swung his arm in an arc, inviting me to get on the motorcycle. When I was seated, he swung his leg over and took his position in front of me.
“When we go around a turn, the bike will lean. Lean into the turn, otherwise we may tip over.”
I nodded.
He started the bike, pulled out of the driveway and onto the road, and I placed my hands on his sides.
We attended a matinee showing of the movie “Mask” that starred Cher, and if I’d known it was going to make me cry, I would’ve suggested something else. I tried to keep my sniffling to a minimum, but Wade reached over, took my hand in his, and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.
After the movie, we went for pizza.
“So if you read my profile, I guess you know I work in construction. Job foreman, actually. And you write for a magazine?”
“Yeah. I’m one of the feature writers. I pretty much get to pick and choose what stories I want to write.” My curiosity getting the better of me, had me blurting out the question I’d been dying to know the answer to. “So why did you sign up with the dating service?”
“I was having trouble meeting women who were more than just a pretty package.”
So does that mean I’m more than a pretty package or something other than a pretty package?
“Have you gone out with many women through the dating service?”
“A few.” His eyes bored into mine.
I became uncomfortable under his scrutiny and was the first to look away.
We left the pizza shop and he took me home. He walked me to the door, stood close, and looked down at me.
When he bent closer, I took a step back and put a hand on his chest. “I don’t kiss on the first date.”
He put one hand on my hand on his chest, and took my other hand in his but never broke eye contact. “When can I see you again?”
“I’m available next Saturday.”
He dropped one of my hands, grasping the one on his chest in both of his and raised it to his lips. He kissed each finger, then the back of my hand. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”
I walked into my apartment, leaned against the door, and sighed certain that Wade Carson with his dimples and baby blues would be first and foremost in my mind the entire week.
Wordless Wednesday
Tea and Poetry Tuesday
Today’s Tea Tidbit: “Rainy days should be spent at home with a cup of tea and a good book.” — Bill Watterson
by Maya Angelou
Flash Fiction Friday: A Heart’s Longing Fulfilled
Photo by Brooke Winters on Unsplash
I stood by my car in my parents’ driveway. I’d just returned from my final year at college. That’s when I saw her. A gorgeous blonde walking toward me on the sidewalk. She turned to follow the path to the house next door. I watched as she opened the door and walked in without pausing or ringing the doorbell.
Mom hadn’t said anything about the Stewarts moving. I searched my memory. The Stewarts had had a daughter … Audrey, Abigail, … Allison, that’s what it was, Allison. But she was a gangly, freckle-faced girl with braces last I’d seen her. That blonde couldn’t be Allison.
I grabbed my suitcase and backpack and strode into the house. “Hey everyone, I’m home!”
Mom came from the kitchen, Dad from the living room, and my younger brother, Tim, bounded down the stairs. I got hugs from everyone and after taking my bags to my room upstairs, Tim helped me bring the rest of the stuff from the car.
“So, little brother, I come home and you’ll soon be leaving for college. You got some big dreams?”
Tim smiled. “Doesn’t everyone have big dreams? I’m headed to the same college you just came from, but I’ll be studying computer technology. I plan to create the best social media ever.”
“Social media? Don’t we have enough of that?” I poked him in the side with my elbow.
“Not like what I’ll create. You just wait and see.”
“Will your social media be able to hook me up with the gorgeous blonde I saw walk into the house next door?”
Tim’s gaze dropped to his feet. “You won’t need any help.”
“Whoa, did I say something wrong? Who is that girl?”
“That’s Allison Stewart, don’t you remember her? And, no you didn’t say anything wrong.” Every word came out monotone.
“That’s really Allison? How did that transformation happen? Whoa, is she your girl?”
“Huh, I wish! She doesn’t have the time of day for me, and yeah, she grew up and the freckles disappeared. The braces came off to reveal a dazzling smile, and she filled out well, didn’t she?”
I grinned and tousled his hair. “Okay, Tim, I’ll stay out of your way. I can see you’re interested in her.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“Not right now. She doesn’t keep a boyfriend long.” Tim looked at me but didn’t say more.
I got settled in my room and enjoyed Mom’s cooking and dinner with the family. It felt good to be home again but I didn’t plan to stay long. With the job I had lined up, I should be able to move out of here for good after the holidays. Maybe not out of the area, just out of my parents’ house.
The following Friday I rang the Stewart’s doorbell. Mrs. Stewart answered.
“Is Allison here?”
“No, she isn’t. She should be back in about an hour. Is there something I can do for you?”
“No. I’m Chad Waters from next door, just returned from college. I saw Allison the day I arrived, and thought I’d stop by and say hi.”
Mrs. Stewart looked me up and down, then closed the door. Had I offended her somehow?
As the time drew nearer for Allison’s return, I went over and sat down in their driveway in front of her dad’s Range Rover. I bet no guy had ever waited for her like this before.
I didn’t have to wait long. I saw Allison coming down the sidewalk, wearing a pair of jeans and an orange t-shirt, her hair, pulled into a ponytail. I could tell the moment she spotted me. Her pace slowed and before getting too close, she called out, “Who are you and what are you doing sitting in our driveway?”
I stood up and smiled at her. “Allison, it’s me, Chad, from next door. I thought I’d see how you’re doing and maybe take you out for a soda or pizza or something.”
She came and stood about three feet away from me. “Chad, is it really you?”
I nodded. She stepped closer then reached out and touched my arm, sending an electrical current up to my shoulder. Then she stepped even closer and put her hand on the side of my face and my heart skipped a beat.
“You’re more handsome than I remember. This must be a dream.”
“I know what you mean. You’re so beautiful … not at all like I remembered you.”
She laughed out loud—a sound like tinkling bells.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she whispered, “I’ve always dreamed of being your girl.”
Then I kissed her.
Kelly F Barr 