Sunday, June 17, 2012


We Americans, and especially women, and especially women of "a certain age" love to talk about eating, dieting, cooking, dieting, gardening, dieting and more dieting.  I try not to talk about it.  Now and then, as recently, I read in a blog the list of what some slender woman of my age who is "green" in mentality and at least borderline vegetarian in philosophy eats.  I get uptight thinking about how she cannot possibly shop impulsively as I'm apt to do,  purchasing what's seasonal in the stores, sometimes what's a bargain, always worrying about cholesterol and calories and antibiotics and transfats. 

Is this what life should be in the final quarter?  A constant fear of what our accursed commericalism has made available to us?  Shouldn't we be not only watchdogs of our well being but also enjoyers of the years of life we have had and will have yet?  I have just lost ten pounds without dieting but I do not recommend my weight loss method to anyone. It's a consequence of that bout with the tick bite -- a couple of days when food was of no interest to me at all and now, for the past nearly two weeks a depressed appetite thanks to combinations of medications -- I presume.  Actually I'm not looking for an answer but I'm hoping it continues for maybe another month although there are signs it's fading away.  When I sit down to a nice looking sandwich or dinner and feel about 2/3rds of the way though that I do not want any more, that's great.  I am eating what I want, and I'm not wanting all that much -- but enough.  I know this will not continue very long.  At the moment I'm a bit like those enviable and mostly mythical young people who can eat anything and never gain weight.  Yes, well, they have metabolisms that are not like my rusty, slow old metabolism.

For as long as it lasts, I'll gladly ignore my life-long habit of cleaning my plate and I won't feel guilty when I dump part of my food down the disposal.  I won't feel particularly righteous if I'm lucky and another ten pounds comes off putting me comfortably into some very favorite pairs of pants again -- so favorite I just haven't been able to give them to Goodwill these last couple of years.  At this point in life I take the silver  linings where I find them and know better than take credit for their existence.  But I will also not feel guilty if my occasional cravings for chocolate chip cookies returns.  I don't want the pounds around my middle but I do want life's small joys. I've had a bunch of big ones, but I haven't forgotten how small ones add oomph to a simple day.


Ladydy5 aka: Diane Yates said...

Heck June the tears we have left, I am going to savor anything I want. By the way, the loss of appetite will go away in about 2 weeks.

Ladydy5 aka: Diane Yates said...

That was a typo.....years not tears!

Jonas said...

We Americans are so incredibly effed up. Where are the farmers' markets? The roadside stands of fresh (and fragile) fruits that veritably burst with succulent juices and exquisite flavors? Where are the street-side vendors offering delicacies from every continent (as can be found in Toronto or Paris or...heck...practically every European city? I'm well beyond sick and tired of tomatoes that offer little more flavor than Styrofoam. Same goes for peaches. Same goes for just about everything offered for sale in the produce section of my local grocer.

Gawd, how I miss real food, harvested from farm and field and oceans pure!

June Calender said...

Di,I'm glad you mean Years and not Tears -- there may be Tears but we'll hope for Years. How I hope the loss of appetite lasts longer...

Jonas, you mention my two greatest disappointments: tomatoes and peaches. I have such wonderful memories of both and almost never, ever find that flavor again. Even the few farmers' markets here seem to have been invaded by Monsanto gene-spliced flavorless tomatoes.

Jonas said...

You and I are kindred spirits, June. Growing up, we had two peach trees on our property. I remember the way peaches are supposed to taste. Those pastel pretty, fuzzy orbs billed as peaches today? They ain't.

And this is absolutely true: I bought a peach at a roadside stand in Vermont sometime in the mid-70's. I bit into that peach and experienced something akin to a religious experience. That peach was so good, so miraculous, that I will go to my grave cherishing the memory.

The only tomatoes worth eating are the homegrown heirloom varietals. I gots me friends who grow things. I wish I had a whole lot more (or a garden of my own).