On Being Accountable and Whatnot

Here's some food. It is good, and healthy.

Sometimes numbers and statistics are my friend, sometimes they put themselves soundly in the "to be ignored" pile and sometimes that isn't the best idea.

As you would know if you have read other posts, I am calling down hard rain on my excess weight left over from pregnancy and reducing my calories. It turns out that I have an Elvis like capacity for food if I let myself go (well maybe not that bad- this is an Elvis-like capacity he liked his deep fried though) so I need to count my calories realistically. 

At least for now. When I was pregnant I could eat a whole large pizza without batting an eyelid but after 7 weeks of lower calories I find my capacity for masses of high calorie food has decreased. To the point that eating chips makes me feel queasy and two small pieces of brownie have me burping and groaning like after a Christmas dinner. If I wasn't tracking my calories I think I would have just continued to eats masses. Because I love my food. I really love food. Probably too much. That's why I have too much weight for my frame.

Anyway, this is where numbers can help, I am less likely to eat lots of calories if I have to write it down and I can see what makes a good choice and a bad choice calorically if I pop it into my My Blackmores diary. Sort of a curse (because calories alone don't determine the worth of a food- some healthy food have high energy such as nuts and avocados- the My Blackmores meal suggestions do include small amounts of these though) but a blessing because I can be accountable and keep track of my energy intake, which is of course the point. 


Another way of using number to keep track of things is by measuring one's self with scales. Ah. 
I have been very good and weighing only once a week but noticing that the scales behave differently depending on where I stand. The difference can be anything up to four kilograms. I had recorded that I had lost around nine kilograms (the crowd goes wild!) and then I bought some new digital scales which are presumably accurate and my weight is three kilograms higher on the new ones. Oh. Even though I know I am smaller (hello pre-pregnancy jeans, the smaller ones at that!) I can't help feeling a little defeated by the numbers on the scale.  So I might ignore them for now.

I haven't been using the handy meal plans really, nor sticking to the exercise plan provided with the My Blackmores program BUT I have been using them for ideas and ensuring I stick to the calorie allowance and exercising appropriately. My knees have gone a bit funny from Roller Derby training so I have seen a physio and have to alter my exercise accordingly.
Spring is wiggling it's way forward so in between some truly wild storms there are some sunny days and I have been walking as much as I can to get my sunshine and exercise. If you have mild depression in Winter I really recommend this, it can sometimes be the cure and at any rate it will do you good. 

I sound like a health book from the 1930's "Sunshine! Exercise! Vitamins and Pure thoughts will make you Strong!" 

P.S. I am not doing a sneaky sponsored post or anything, I won a 3 month membership to the My Blackmores via a comp on The Shake so I thought I might as well provide some feedback for those interested in using it or similar programs.

Guarded Excitement and De-Cluttering!

It's raining here today. After days of unseasonable joyful sun we have been visited by oppressive grey clouds heavy with a persistent surly rain. Enough to drive you indoors for the duration . A pleasant relentless noise. 

A navel gazing sort of day.

Maybe it is the rain, which seems to induce introspection  or maybe it is just the timing. Yesterday we signed a contract on a new family home . 
A lovely old house with more than enough bedrooms, a cupboard under the stairs, a big gas cooker and butler's sink in the kitchen a cubby at the bottom of the garden and an old disused well. It is in a little town 15 minutes from the city and next to the library which is across the road from two big parks. The front was a former cafe which allows for some interesting possibilities.

The bank is positive but they have been positive before and delayed  and delayed and then said no. 
We planned everything and they said no. 
I can't feel content until the contract is unconditional and the finance approved. 
The feeling has echoes of waiting until you are twelve weeks pregnant before telling everyone and feeling safe. 

In the meantime we are de-cluttering which is really just throwing away junk rather than clutter. I tend to walk the fine line between "that will be useful one day." and "hoarder" but watching those shows on TV have kept me alert to the signs and as a positive result we don't have that much to clear! (I don't want to die under a pile of egg cartons and have my corpse eaten by the cat.)

Baby clothes are my worst clutter though.
I tried to keep on top of them. A couple of years ago I sat down to organise and donate all the tiny clothes my sons had worn and my dear beloved found me in the boys' room sitting in a see of musty onesies with tears rolling down my face. I couldn't bear to get rid of them. He assured me we had the room and could do it later if we wanted.
 Of course they have been sorted and washed and used for our surprise little baby girl afterwards but she is outgrowing so many clothes and I can't bear to get rid of them either. I don't know if I will ever say "This is our last baby" and cleanse the place of baby gear. My main argument against more than three children was the awfulness of people mover vehicles for large families but our old Mercedes estate wagon seats seven and the new house will have spare rooms...we will have to play it by ear, but the tiny clothes stay for now!

Life is becoming more manageable, it has been really hard graft getting it to this point. Light is shining at the end of the tunnel now.
I had better get packing for when it arrives.

A sudden change of gear.

I am typing this from my "new" office which is is reality a couple of years older than me and has all the wood paneling and green laminex to support it's claim on 70's chic. The weather is wild and wooly, rain battering the windows, the awnings (green) and moaning and flapping but we are all snug inside our new house/offices.

It feels like home already!

Just before the move which happened last Tuesday in earnest I received my THERMOMIX posted from Spain with an amazing looking collection of Spanish recipes which I am having to teach myself to read and even though I haven't really got any recipes for it yet I am having so much fun experimenting with food in the wonderful beasty. I have used it at least once a day for the last two weeks, often more, two or three times in the day.

There is an amazing amount of recipes, forums, blogs and videos for Thermomix use and I must say I can't wait to get into some of the more wholefood-ish recipes for the new addition to the family. Luckily our new kitchen is very long galley style (also there are so many powerpoints and cupboards in this house) so Thermomix can have a corner all to it's self. 

The garden is tiny at the new house but I am sort of looking forward to the challenge of some innovative container gardening, I have just found a stash of strange abandoned things like old sleepers and bits of galvanised iron sheds and cuts from water tanks round the side of the enormous shed which Darling Husband looked at with horror but I think could be a great place to find materials for raised beds, chicken coops and scrap metal for some pocket money!

Unfortunately the weather is too wild for any outside photos today.

Purple! Sprouting! Broccoli!

Gardening has come to nearly a standstill at Apple Isle Cottages as we prepare for our big move three doors up the road. 

After raking the frost affected pumpkin vines and harvesting the last of the volunteers (they might actually be some kind of squash, I should ask the hens as they seem to have been the ones who planted them- I certainly didn't) one of the only things left standing in the garden was a lone purple sprouting broccoli plant. 

Spindly is the word I would use. This poor plant has been attacked but thousands (maybe) of caterpillars, pecked by chickens and swamped by pumpkin vines and yet it remains standing (if rather rangier than I expected) I am giving it a monthly derris dusting but that is all the "good"attention it has been getting. Poor thing. I couldn't just leave it. I have soaked it with seasol and bundled it into an old Styrofoam box with it's soil and soaked it with more seasol (evidently it should help prevent transplant shock) and will trundle it up the road with us to see if it will ever do anything edible for me.

It is seriously cold and frosty here and I am eating a lot of cheese which I am kidding myself is some kind of keep warm tactic.. that's why I bought a whole wheel of brie (that would be a kilo of it).