Washin’ my drawers down’t’ the washeteria, and other pleasant ways to pass the time

Thought it time to break radio silence. Three things I’ve been doing instead of blogging:

1. Painting windows! Not finishing them as quickly as I’d like to given patient care and family obligations, but they’re coming along.

2. Spring cleaning and organizing! Spring cleaning always hits me earlier in the year than most. Every single January, I am possessed of a passion to begin the year clean and fresh. Since we “simplified” several years ago, it’s not so much organizing as a really deep down, floor-to-ceiling clean that I covet.

3. Hookin’ and needlin’! When time is too short to allow for the spreading out of paints and brushes and the concentration-intense painting of roses, it’s always easy to pick up a hook or a pair of knitting needles.

Below is my latest window, a southern-inspired confection in pink and white, roses and daisies. I went to college in the deepest deep antebellum South. My dorm was even an old Civil War hospital complete with the ghosts of Confederate soldiers in the attic!

Back in those college days (which, I feel compelled to add, were not THAT long ago), the grownups thought it perfectly acceptable to require our precious darling selves to cart our laundry, on foot, two or three blocks to the local coin-op laundromat (uphill both directions in 3 feet of snow year round. In the deep South....) and do it ourselves. And so we did. But of course, as Southerners so often do, they have delightful word for such a mundane place. They call it the washeteria.

And so, every Saturday morning, my sweet southern roomies and I would haul our dirty drawers down t' the washeteria to do the washin'. I loved that word then, and still do to this very day!

I'm not sure we, in our exuberant youth, so eager to do FUN stuff, not chores, got our laundry "fresh as a daisy and fragrant as a rose", but we survived!




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I’ve also been teaching myself to knit, which will inevitably become the subject of some hilarious blog posts before all is said and done. I’ve finally caved in and signed up for a class at a local yarn store. It starts February 1, and I’m really looking forward to it.

I’m a great believer in learning things yourself. So, one Sunday afternoon I headed into the yarn shop to pick up some yarn to finish a scarf I was crocheting for Jack. In its original conception, it was to be a nice, normal scarf.

However, as I began, the yarn (Rowan Pure Life British Sheep Breeds) was so yummy to work with, the scarf quickly took on Dr. Who-like proportions and it has evolved into a 2’ wide by 16’ long (so far) dramatic fashion statement. So much so that it may never grace Jack’s neck, because I may never part with it!

Dr. Who and his scarf, for those of you who aren’t familiar with the Tom Baker we sci-fi geeks adore (ya didn’t know that about me, didja?):



Anyway, I went in to the Knitter’s Mercantile to pick up some more yarn for The Scarf. I proudly took with me my latest knitted sample. Now, I’ve already made and sold several knitted pieces, so I was pretty confident in what I was doing. I knew my knit stitches didn’t look quite right, but I figured it was simply a matter of getting better control of my tension.

I whipped it out of my bag and proudly demonstrated my latest pink competence:


The ladies looked at it, looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Those of you who knit will look at the bobbly-headed stitches in this photo and know immediately what I’d been doing wrong. For those of you who don’t, I don’t care to confess my sins. Do YOU ‘fess up to YOUR sins? Suffice to say I’ve been retraining my muscle memory to knit in the proper fashion.

***SIGH***

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Anyway, as for Jack’s scarf, here’s a photo of what’s done so far. The yarn is undyed - those colors are native to the sheep, and they’re just so rich and wonderful. I’m working with the Black Welsh, Mid-Brown Jacob and Steel Grey Suffolk in a simple sc/dc stich pattern, which makes it nice and thermal and not at all “froofy” - it's manly crochet! I hope to have it done before the sultry heat of summer settles upon us.


And another floral tea cozy -- I’m having a grand time building these beauties!




And another cowl that I created from that incredibly luscious and soft, super bulky, hand-dyed, hand-spun wool from fuzzyfibers1960 on Etsy. Her fibers and her eye for color are so amazingly delectable! I WANT THEM ALL! Knitting and crocheting with the thick/thin yarn is much like giving birth -- the pain is immediately forgotten once your project is completed!


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We were gifted with time last weekend so we could get away from our patient care duties for a couple nights. Not only did the door not hit us in the ass as we ran out the door, I think we made it twenty miles outside Columbus before that door began its return trip to the frame.

In our younger days, we’d throw some trail mix and a change of undergarments in our back pocket and head out, light-hearted and carefree.

HA! No more......


Piles of chargers and communication devices (including that fabulous PINK netbook gifted to me by Santa Father-In-Law at Christmas) notwithstanding, we had a wonderful, peaceful and blissfully QUIET weekend in a cottage at the White Oak Inn in Danville, Ohio. Located VERY out in the country, it was a much-needed and much appreciated respite! Innkeepers Ian and Yvonne are wonderful hosts and chefs who have been featured in numerous publications and on PBS television.

Here is the living room in our cottage. That's a real wood-burning fireplace and there's a HUGE jacuzzi behind me. There was snow on the ground, and it was just so romantic and blissful.


Until next time, I'll be at the easel!

Ronda
www.antiquecottagerose.com

My husband's idea of a healthy breakfast.....

Fudge-n-Butter Cookie sandwich.....


Yes, he really did eat it, and yes, dagnabbitty, he's SKINNY!

Until next time, I'll be at the easel. How many calories does one burn lifting a paint brush??

Ronda
www.antiquecottagerose.com

My Eighth Annual Christmas Window, and in which I pretend that Christmas is NOT TO-FREAKING-MORROW!!!

It’s my annual Christmas window!! Did you think I wouldn’t do one? I think the goddess of painted windows might have forgiven me for not having one this year in light of the perpetual sh*t storm, but EYE would not have forgiven myself!

So in the wee hours of the morning, and in 90 second increments whenever I could find them over the past four months, I got her painted!

This poor window began life in Michigan, one of many in the McKee Mansion in Broken Rocks, Port Austin, Michigan. Then her house was torn out from under her - and I was the lucky gal who got quite a few of the windows and cupboard doors and chippy old oddments from that house! From then, she moved to Ohio with us in 2008, then traveled back to Michigan twice with me last summer while I worked on her, and now, at last, she’s done!

She’ll be available in Our Cottage Garden later tonight.







This is the McKee Mansion, once located on the shores of Lake Huron in Michigan, from whence the window itself came:


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Otherwise, I’ve been a speed hooker, as it’s much easier to carry fiber and needles and hooks around from crisis to crisis than, uh, well, windows and paint.

T’is the year of the cozy! Tea cozies and neck cozies....











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The diet, the diet!! Yes, I'm still "dieting" tho not as obsessively as I was. Having lost over 60 pounds so far (!!!), I've slowed down to a more manageable (and enjoyable!!) number of daily calories and just keep keeping on. As I like to say, it's a "live-it", not a diet, and I love it!

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Mercedes Rule

Somehow I ended up on the mailing list of one of the local Mercedes dealers. That is so hilarious on so many levels I hardly know where to begin.

How many windows would I have to paint to afford a Mercedes? Actually, I think the question is -- how many would I have to SELL to afford a Mercedes? It boggles the mind!

Anyway, I got a bright, shiny big booklet in the mail this week with the 2010 models in it. Wheweeeee! Nice stuff! But it was a vintage one inside the front cover that won my heart.

I taped it to the tree in hopes that the Marital Santa will GET A CLUE and leave one in the driveway for me. Big bow optional, but would be a very nice touch. Or, I guess he could just pop up those gull wing doors -- they look kind of like a big bow.



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Froggy went a’courtin’

Each year, my husband and I choose a blown glass ornament to add to our collection. Sometimes they’re new, sometimes they’re vintage. Always they are beautiful. Well, until THIS year....

Dear husband Jack lost his heart to this goofy thing, and his eyes lit up so much when he saw it, I just didn’t have the heart to roll my own and say, EWWWWW. And anyway, it’s kinda growing on me. It was like three bucks on sale at the Cracker Barrel gift shop last week, so no complaints about the price!!


Next time, I'll show you my buzz cut. Yep, whacked off EVERY SINGLE INCH!!!

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!

Ronda
www.antiquecottagerose.com

Crumby Goodness!

My father-in-law, who his grandkids and kids-in-law refer to as BaPaw (rhymes with paw-paw), loves bananas. Because he loves them borderline green and doesn’t eat too much, I’m finding myself with bananas piling up.

Last night, I made this INCREDIBLE Banana Crumb Muffin recipe (below). SUPERB! Very moist and rich, super tasty, and, for those who can’t eat - or don’t like - nuts in their foods, no nuts! But you could toss in a half cup of your favorite nutty deliciousness if you'd like.

I made half without the crumb topping so my dad, who doesn’t have a big sweet tooth, could also enjoy them. He’s presently in an in-patient physical rehabilitation center, for the past three weeks with one week to go, and he is MIGHTILY tired of hospital food!

These are very fast to make. Serve them warm with chunks of ice cold butter at your next gathering and you will RULE THE WORLD!

Enjoy!



Banana Crumb Muffins (no nuts)
(makes 12)

1-1/2 Cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3 bananas, mashed
3/4 Cup white sugar
1 egg, lightly beaten
1/3 Cup butter, melted
Optional: 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon and 1/2 tsp nutmeg

TOPPING:
1/2 C packed brown sugar
2 Tbsp all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1 Tbsp butter

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Lightly grease 12 muffin cups or line with muffin papers.

In a large bowl, mix together 1-1/2 C flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt (and optional cinnamon and nutmeg if desired).

In a medium bowl, beat together bananas, white sugar, egg and melted butter. Add banana mixture to flour mixture and stir just until moistened. Spoon batter into prepared muffin cups.

In a small bowl, mix together brown sugar, 2 Tbsp flour and cinnamon. Cut in 1 Tbsp butter until mixture resembles coarse cornmeal. Sprinkle topping over muffins.

Bake in preheated oven for 18-20 minutes until toothpick inserted into center of muffin comes out clean and very lightly brown on top.

Until next time, I'll be at the easel or.....gobbling banana crumb muffins! They DO count as a fruit on a diet, right? And fruit content overrides carb content, right? RIGHT?!?

Ronda
www.antiquecottagerose.com

The Diet: Day 73; & The World's Laziest, Fastest Slipcover How-To

Hi! You’re here! Well, far be it from me to keep you from this splendidly gorgeous fall day we’re having, but since you’re here, I’m gonna brag. Yep, I’m still on that infernal diet, but IT’S WORKING! 48 pounds down the drain! Feeling fit and fabulous!

Things have been quite calamitous around here, what with both of us experiencing very serious unexpected health issues in both of our families, one right after another in a very short amount of time. To the point that we’ve taken to calling it a Sh*t Storm. No better description for it!

But we’re coping well. We solved one issue by moving my father-in-law in with us last week. He's adjusting well, very happy to be in such a pretty setting and having people around all the time to tend to his meals and other needs. I was worried he’d have a hard time adjusting from independent living, but he seems as contented as can be.

Father-in-law settled in, everyone else relatively stable, and not needing to putter around in the yard so much this time of year, I returned my attention to trying to perk up the decor around here. My chair and ottoman needed SERIOUS attention! They are EEWWWWWWWWWW. You can tell where the cats like to lay!


We’ve had it about ten years now and I love that chair like an armchair quarterback loves his recliner. It’s SOOO comfortable, and I love the taupey damask. But you can only clean them so many times before they get too overly tatty, and this one passed the tatty stage and went into tattered a long time ago.

I have a collection of sheets and quilts with which I was going to make a slipcover for it, but tending to BaPaw (father-in-law) doesn’t really leave a lot of time for the detailed measuring and fitting and cutting of tissue paper blahblahblah. So I bought a Sure Fit cotton duck in sage for the chair. I mean, it was $40 on ebay with shipping, and brand new, so I simply couldn’t pass it up. I figured I’d use some of those collected sheets and quilts for a custom ottoman cover.

I first drew up a really nice reversible affair, pretty pink and white lip cord around the seams marking the top and bottom of the top cushion and triple ruffles for the bottom half.

As I figured out my cutting measurements and got a good grasp on how much work I was letting myself in for, I dropped the reversible part. Then dropped to two tiers of ruffles, then one tier.

Then I decided to drop the whole “ruffle” concept and just put pleats at the corners of the skirt and leave the rest straight.

Well, if there’s a really super fast, easy and relatively cheap way to do something, I’m gonna find it. Lip cord ain’t cheap, at least not the one I loved - $14.99 a yard, and I needed 7 yards!!! Wasn’t gonna happen.

So I drew an even simpler version that would require half as much lip cord and one less seam. I pulled my collection of sheets and quilts out to make a final determination of what color of lip cord I wanted.

As I spread them out on the floor to ponder, I had a light bulb moment. Why on earth was I making this so difficult on myself?

I grabbed up the smallest quilt, tossed it over the ottoman and VOILA! Almost perfect! I ripped four 4” strips from a divine vintage mini-rose motif duvet cover, stitched them together, folded the strip in half, stitched the ends and the long side seam, turned, starched, pressed, and tied! Arranged the corners of the quilt.

DONE!

Time spent: 25 minutes of toss, rip, sew, turn, press, place, and tie.

Yes, you DO see wrinkles on the slipcover. Why on earth would I iron it? People are just gonna sit on it and leave wrinkles. Have you forgotten how much I hate to iron?

Pillows by the irrepressible Connie at Living Beautifully.







This makeover has earned Pablo's Cat Seal of Approval.



Until next time, I'll be at the easel or....hiding from calamity!

Ronda
www.antiquecottagerose.com

Adventures in Modern Road Construction, Road Warrioring, and Life on the Beach

The trip home was bad. Verrrrry, ver-r-r-r-r-ry bad. Apparently asleep at the wheel or daydreaming or singing at the top of my lungs and just not paying attention, I missed my veer off to Route 23, a gentle, mostly bucolic, easy-on-the-eyes excursion, a pleasant way to travel the road home transitioning back to “real” life from life at the beach.

But I missed it. I was about 20 miles into my mistake before I realized it. I suddenly spied a mileage sign that said: Detroit 31. DETROIT?!! Holy Mapquest, Batman! I should have been nearing Ann Arbor, NOT DETROIT! I knew immediately what I’d done, and how I’d done it.

You see, I am a right lane hugger. My husband is a left lane hog. Generally, I would be in the right lane, happily cruise-controlled behind a semi doing 68 miles an hour, and would seamlessly and effortlessly and without any thought glide onto Route 23.

But since I took this trip by myself and had had the car to myself for over a week, I had quickly adopted the maniacal road warrior tendencies of the motorists around me. I had no passenger about whom my concern would force more polite driving manners, and I had no navigator to shout VEER! VEER! YOU’RE ABOUT TO MISS YOUR EXIT, MORON!

So anyway, I was in the left lane doing my Xena, Road Warrior Princess bit and missed the veer. There I was, stuck on the Horror Highway to Hell of the North, Interstate 75.

At 31 miles from Detroit, I had a couple miles til the next exit to decide whether or not to turn around and go back to Route 23. But I really really REALLY hate to backtrack and redo ANYTHING. Be it in life, painting, cooking, gardening, whatever, and yes, driving, I HATE DO-OVERS. Of ANYTHING. So I decided to tough it out. I said to myself, Self, just gut it out, it will be an exercise in character-building, and you will NEVER EVER EVER make this navigational error again!

So of course, I-75 goes right through the hearts of both Detroit, Michigan and Toledo, Ohio. A real armpit of a trip. Well over a hundred miles of urban and industrial wasteland. (They don’t build freeways through the nice parts of town.) Hot (no a/c in the car -- it’s been broken for six years and they want wa-a-a-ay too much money to recharge it with some fancy, environmentally friendly substitute for good old-fashioned, ozone-eating freon, which the car can’t use), sweaty, horrendous mid-day sun glare, a hideous experience.

Lots of opportunities to fine-tune your most intricate driving skills, as in, HOLY CRAP, if I don’t dash over six lanes of traffic RIGHT THIS INSTANT I will be on the bridge to Canada and I do not have my passport with me and they will throw me in jail as a suspected terrorist!!!

There were also lots of opportunities to fine-tune the expressions of one’s road rage. Like, pretty much at every on-ramp to the freeway, where it seemed every single motorist was moseying onto the 80 mph freeway doing 32 mph. I’m guessing they were all heading out to exercise their Cash for Clunkers trade-ins.

Which is probably where I should have been, except I HATE CAR PAYMENTS. At nine years of age and nearing 150,000 miles, my sweet, topless chick-mobile is the equivalent of a 49 year old woman. She was shiny and beautiful in her youth, but now her looks are starting to fade, she’s a bit creaky and jiggly, and various parts of her need jacked up here and there from time to time. Trust me; I know whereof I speak. Although duct tape works far better on car parts than body parts.......

So anyway, I finally made it to Findlay, Ohio, where I was able to get back on my beloved and beautiful Route 23 for the last two and a half hours home. All in all, it could have been far worse -- although there was lots of road construction, I never hit any major backups or slow downs, and I learned that very valuable object lesson about paying attention while driving so as to avoid nasty navigational errors.

The worst part, really, was the long stretch between, uhhhh, bathroom breaks. You see, I had gassed up and "refreshed" in Marlette, Michigan, and had stopped at the local McDonald’s and got my third large iced tea of the day. From there, I passed only one roadside rest area, and that was very early in my navigational error, when I didn’t have to “go”. By the time I had to “go”, I was well onto I-75, and there was not one, NOT ONE, roadside rest area until Bowling Green, Ohio. That is a distance of 180 miles, half of the entire trip. I usually stop THREE TIMES during my trips between Port Austin and home (49 year old bladders being much like 49 year old cars.....). Between three large iced teas and the teeth-gritting stress of traveling through Detroit and Toledo, well, you know....

But I was NOT GETTING OFF THAT FREEWAY! For one thing, a woman traveling alone chooses her stops carefully, and Detroit, well, with apologies to the many fine citizens of Detroit, I wasn’t stopping in Detroit.

The first time I traveled I-75 alone three years ago, I was traveling to St. Clair, Michigan to meet up with my friend Pam. My parents were terrified, first because I was traveling to meet someone I knew only through eBay and email, and second because I had to travel through Detroit to get there. My Dad had sternly warned me, “Do not stop in Detroit for ANYTHING. Even if you have a flat tire, YOU KEEP GOING UNTIL YOU GET OUT OF DETROIT!”

So with Dad’s stern voice still echoing in my head three years later, I held my knees together tightly and just kept moving. By the time I hit Toledo, I just wanted to get off I-75 and back to Route 23, and I truly didn’t care if I, ummm, well, watered the seat of the car. So I toughed it out until I made it safely (and dryly) to the rest area in Bowling Green.

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Speaking of road construction, I arrived at my motel in Port Austin, Michigan, to be greeted by - AHHHHHHHH - my favorite sight in the world, Lake Huron at the end of Larned Road:

But, uhhhhhhh, what is THIS?



Uh oh, spaghetti-o.

There were FIVE pieces of big, heavy road construction equipment. Now, the Port Austin Motel is located on a dead end, heavily wooded, one-lane road that isn’t much more than a couple of hundred feet long. Couple of houses, the motel, no traffic to speak of, a bit of paradise.

Remember, I lived right there until last fall -- few come this way because few really pay attention to what a jewel and a treasure it is. It’s an unmarked spit of public beach with no parking area; even people who live there generally pass it by for the bigger public beaches in the area. (Their loss.) What on earth could all this equipment be doing on this tiny bit of road in the middle of No-Freaking-Where, Michigan??!

Turns out they were enclosing a ditch, putting piping and catch basins in to carry storm runoff to the lake. The job was originally supposed to be completed before Memorial Day so as to avoid the noise and dust and inconvenience of road work during tourist season. But, of course, you know how the government works..... So here it was, the end of July, and the work was just gearing into full swing.

Well, I hitched up my Big Girl Panties and bravely said to myself, Self, you can just go to another beach for the eight hours a day they’re working, right? Right-o. My old neighbors assured me they didn’t start working until 7 in the morning, and my friends that owned the motel said they didn’t start working until 7:30 in the morning. I am an early riser. Plenty of time to get up, exercise, shower, load up my painting supplies, and go beach-hopping.

They started working at 6:05 Monday morning, and were still at work at 6:05 Monday evening.......

Ten feet from my room, clanking and digging and roaring, spewing diesel and dust. Lots and lots of gritty, sandy dust. Being blown all over paradise by those beautiful lake breezes. My pretty white car soon looked like it had been painted tan.

Couple days of that, and my Big Girl Panties were in a serious wad. I called my husband, all sniffy and sobby, and said, My Big Girl Panties are in a serious wad and I’m coming home.

But Fate sometimes smiles beneficently upon you. I packed up the car and headed into town to say my goodbyes. My friends Helen and Angie, interior decorators and owners of the finest and sweetest cottage shop on the planet, The Haven Antiques, said, “Oh, one of our clients has a cottage behind their house on the lake. We’ll call and see if it’s available.” It WAS! HURRAY!

So I headed 20 miles west, past Caseville, to a gorgeous, breezy, light-filled two-bedroom cottage owned by one of the nicest, wonderful couples you could ever hope to meet. Lots of flowers and trees, a truly restful and lovely place.




This is the back of the cottage. I seem stupidly to have not take a photo of the front, which was a completely enclosed, enormous patio with lots of glass looking out. Very private, so restful.


In that area, the houses are perched about 25’ above the beach. You had to go down some steep stairs, climb down a small dune and walk across a boardwalk over wetlands to get to their private beach, but once you were there, oh, HEAVEN! You could hear nothing but the waves and the wind and the seagulls.


Looking back towards the cottage from the beach:
The beach from the end of the boardwalk. Oh how I wish I could have slapped some pink roses on that shabby old white paint on that boat! This view will most likely turn up in a painting on one of my windows one day soon!

"I heart Caseville" scrawled in the sand by a previous guest of the cottage. I thought about scrawling "I heart Port Austin" next to it, but that seemed highly ungracious, especially in light of the fact that my host and hostess took me in on 45 minutes notice, not knowing whether or not I might be a marauding thief or worse!


I spent two wonderful days there painting happily on the beach and enjoying the spectacular sunsets, then went back to the Port Austin Motel for the weekend (government contracts are not executed during weekends). So while I ended up cutting a couple days off my trip, it was wonderful nonetheless!

Last gasp before dropping below the horizon....

There was no wifi at the cottage as there was at the motel (and I am too cheap to invest in a mifi card just yet), so I was unconnected while I was there, but who really cares? Blissful beaching with no nagging thoughts of “I really oughta check my email”. Fabulous!

And I got some lovely painting done. Two half yard panels (below) completed on the beaches of Port Austin and Caseville, a yard long roses painting on a shabby ol’ cupboard door nearly done, and a joyful cherubs window under way. There might be a bit of sand in those paintings, but they were completed in utter and complete happiness. You can see the panels in Our Cottage Garden, and the others will be posted here as soon as they’re done.





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There was one small price to pay on the home front for my extended absence. The deer and fawns in our woods at home know that if the feed bins are empty, they can walk up to the screened porch and make their “whuffing” noises, and I will come out and feed them.

Of course, for the past week and a half, there’s been no one home during the day to answer their whuffing, so they exacted their revenge on my hostas. Once I was home and filled the feeders and was back at the easel painting, Little Doe made a point of walking over to my studio window and taking once last swipe at the hostas outside my studio window. I wish I’d have had the video running, because after she took this bite, she looked up at me, stuck out her tongue, then strolled over to the feeders.



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All in all, navigational errors and road construction notwithstanding, the trip was a delightful and healing respite from the usual daily life. I can hardly wait until next year!

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On the shopping front, I didn’t do much as I’m not much of a shopper, although I did find myself at one point in need of doing laundry. PFFFFT! Summer stuff is on sale, so I found a cute new sundress and very fashionable pink and black tiered skirt for the combined sum total of $18. This is in keeping with Ronda’s Theorem One: One’s interest in fashion increases in direct proportion to each pound of excess weight lost! Which has a direct corollary to Ronda's Theorem Two: The odds of whether or not a piece of clothing gets purchased rise in direct proportion to each dollar that the sale price drops.

And I brought home an amazing Bird Mansion, crafted of architectural salvage bits by my afore-mentioned and incredibly creative friends Helen and Angie. Old wood, funky table knees, and the ornate top of a cast iron stove to crown it off.




It is HUGE! When next you see it, it will be mosaiced with lots of my old china collection, and smothered in big fat juicy pink roses!

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I might add here, with regard to The Diet, I GAINED NO WEIGHT while I was gone!!! That is a huge victory, because I ate pretty badly, but I exercised obsessively. Five miles a day pounding the pavement (half in the morning and half in the evening), and at least one hour a day of aerobics, usually 1-1/2 to 2 hours. I knew I was eating poorly, and I knew if I didn’t want to gain any of my weight back I had to pay the price. The price was exercise. I happily paid it, and it was well worth every drop of sweat!

Until next time, I'll be at the easel and counting the days until my next trip Up North!

Ronda
www.antiquecottagerose.com

Roses, Cherubs, and THE DIET, Day 26!

As of last week’s weigh-in, I have managed to lose 24 pounds already! The fat's just melting off like butter!

As well it should, since much of it IS butter.......

Much of it due in large part, I suspect, to the fact that I have added lots of walking and mini-tramping to my daily Wii.

Note to self:

IT’S THE EXERCISE, STUPID.

Well, that and the fact that I’m not stuffing potato chips in my face every five seconds. Three seconds.......two..... ZERO TO SIXTY CHIPS IN NINE SECONDS!

Jack’s been doing the program with me and he’s lost 18 pounds! We put on our tee-shirts from our honeymoon resort this morning.

At this point, he looks far better in his, what with it hanging loosely on him, than I look in mine. AT LEAST I GOT IT ON THIS TIME! The last time I tried it on a couple months ago it was so tight I couldn't even get it over my fat arms. Ick. Blech. Disgust.

Yesterday morning, I put on my jeans, then promptly pulled them right back off, then put them back on -- without unbuttoning and unzipping them! What a feeling!

In lieu of stuffing potato chips, I’ve been stuffing a paint brush in my hand. Here are some of the pretties I’ve finished recently.






Now, in about five minutes, I’m off to Michigan for ten days of fun, fishing, sun, sand, and, well, work. Yes, I’m taking work with me, and have work to do once I get up there, too. This one’s without The Husband, so I can gossip and giggle with the gal pals til the cows come home. Uh, after I’ve finished the day’s work, natch.

I hope to lose six more pounds while I’m up there so I can top the thirty pound mark. WOO HOO!

Until next time, I'll have my fishing pole in the beautiful blue waters of Lake Huron, after which, yes, I will indulge in beer-battered walleye. In exchange for an extra two miles on the daily walk, of course.

Ronda
www.antiquecottagerose.com