79 Turning points

Today my blog is going to shift a bit to my health.  "Today I decide to be healthy."

I've got my job starting in a month, and I need to get physically prepared for it.  I know I'm @ 100 pounds over-weight, maybe less, as my weight in college was 170.  I'm 260 this morning.

Yesterday I was thinking about the hymn, "I'll cast my burdens at his feet, and bear a song away." And I thought about that some more, and gave a silent prayer, asking if I could do that, and I got the answer back, a very small, still small voice, that I could.

So I'm going to start with giving 50 pounds to the Lord in this month and during my time at Park and Rec. 30 weeks.  That's a healthy loss of almost 2 pounds a week on average.

I've been exercising, but not steadily.  And I've made some half-hearted attempts at portion control.

Today I need to do better, and everyday. Without the extra weight, I'd be able to buy clothes, and I know I'd feel better and look more employable to others.  I saw one of the moms at Pine Ridge walking in front of me, and I hoped I didn't look like that in the back, and I felt sorry for her.

This morning I took a one-mile walk with the dog down to the river and back, and was pleased that I was able to do the slope without getting winded until about the end, and still have energy when I got home.

I bought over 2 lbs. of broccoli last night, and ate over a pound for dinner with a salmon patty.  No potatoes or bread.

And wealth-wise, I'm thinking about Tabatha Brown's Fashions (no bolts of fabric were cut) sewing.  There was a black curtain with flowers I saw at Goodwill--it would make a beautiful jacket. But the thought of buying it gives me a guilt feeling--that's $8 I could spend on my children or on bills.
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I've been toying with sewing ideas, and one of my fantasies was a business named "Tabitha Brown Fashions," after the Mother of Oregon, a woman named Tabitha Brown, who came out west on one of the worst wagon trains ever assembled, probably second to the Donner Party for its bad luck.  After making it to The Valley, at age 66, destitute but for her family, she found a coin worth 61/2 cents--a picayune--in the finger of a glove, and used it to buy a sewing needle, traded some fabric for buck skin, and made gloves to sell, and that was the start of her fortune. She ended up founding an orphanage, prospered, founded an orphanage (now Pacific University), and died wealthy and well-loved.

What better name to bless the business?

And then I googled the name and found that Tabitha Brown is already in existence as a fashion planner in Tennessee, on Facebook (Australia), a murdered woman in South Carolina, a dead one in Missouri, and a blogger/illustrator on Esty who has her studio named "The Pairabirds".

There's a small business thing at the Library on Tuesdays. I can always check out there using the name there.

77

I called June and offered to take her to the library, which she accepted. 
I got the OHSI paper delivered to NeighborImpact, and we shopped at the new DollarTree, and had lunch at Reye's Mexican restaurant. She also gave me $20 for gas, which I gratefully accepted.

I mended some clothes and returned them to her, and deposited Elizabeth's paychecks that had arrived in the mail today.

I keep thinking about the cloth/curtain that I saw at Goodwill, and imagining it on a very thin me.
I've eaten so many calories today, it's just awful. 

61 A day of work and a recipe for molasses cookies

Today I decide to be wealthy.

The sixty days are up, but I'll go on.


Today was busy.

I got started on Park and Recreation application.

I baked up the cookie dough I'd made last night, and delivered three dozen cookies to a friend to take in to the blood drive, and I went to the school, taking 2 two dozen cookies there.  I told the staff I'd been there so often, I figured it was my turn to contribute.  They were happy to have them, as was one of the custodians, who declared them to be delicious. (Cookie recipe is below.)

I worked at the school from 11:15 to 3:00.  It was uneventful, which was very nice, and afterwards I went to the blood drive and donated blood, and over heard more praise for my cookies. (My blood pressure was 150/98.  Not good.)

I went to the doctor's office, and saw Dr. K and Roxie, his nurse, both who've been with us since after my oldst was born.  I hadn't been there for a while, and when I was, I hadn't seen either of them.  Roxie and I visited for a bit, and then I went shopping at a couple of thrift stores, and didn't buy the velour shirt. Four dollars is four dollars. I may go back and get it tomorrow.

Home, where my husband fixed dinner, and then to a neighborhood association meeting, where there were three board members and only four members. I took the minutes.  Got a lot of ideas for newsletter articles.

I should just mark out an hour a day and write. Thank you letters, newsletters, articles, the books.  Nothing but production.

And an hour for job hunting/applications.

And an hour for housework, so I can find my way around and get ready for the next major employment adventure. (Speaking of which, I need to talk to Tina about the air freshener thing, explain why I'm not going to pursue it.)

And make sure I get to bed at a decent hour.  Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.  ~ Benjamin Franklin.  

Today I decide to be wealthy.

Gingerbread molasses cookies. Oven at 370 F, makes 5 dozen cookies

1 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
1 cup molasses
1 egg
2 tablespoon vinegar
Combine
Add 5 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon cinammon
1 teaspoon cloves
Mix thoroughly
(I use a cookie scoop, that measures out about 1 even tablespoon at a time)
Roll ball of dough, about a tablespoon size, in a small bowl of granulated sugar, and place on ungreased cookie sheet, 2 inches apart, about 12 balls per sheet.
Press down to 1/2 height, using bottom of drinking glass.
Bake 8 minutes, or until tops are puffy and cracked. Allow to cool 6 minutes on cookie sheet, transfer to cooling rack.

Day 35, re. "The 5 Lessons...for Women" book

Today I decide to be wealthy.

I finished "The 5 Lessons a Millionaire Taught Me for Women," a few days ago.  In fact, I read it for the first time a year ago.  It's time to return it to the library.  But first, a book review.

The five mistakes women frequently make when it comes to money, include:
Unenlightened beliefs about money
Undervaluing their assets
"Burnt toast syndrome"
Investment paralysis
Over trusting

Guilty, guilty, whoa, guilty, guilty.

Whoa on the burnt toast syndrome(page 107)  Hey, I take the burnt toast because 1) I can eat it easily, as my spouse thinks he's going to get cancer from it, and the girls don't want the mess.  Furthermore, the girls are the ones who are going to be picking out (and unfortunately, probably paying for) my nursing home.

I did, however, have them do their own laundry, starting with the second grade, something which they didn't think was a good idea until sometime after they were in college.  But financially, there isn't any money for them to sponge off of me.  And they know it.

As for the unenlightened beliefs about money, I wasn't taught much about money, except that it's one of the things my parents fought over, and I'd be upstairs, listening to them argue and wonder what life would be like in an orphanage. Sometime afterwards, my parents were able to put 20% down on one of the largest houses in Lakeview, complete with three acres and it's own well, and get it paid off in 10 years.  All I knew was, "can't afford it, can't afford it, can't afford it," and never how it could be afforded.  I had my own part-time jobs later, but saving the money didn't work.  I saved up for college, and all I had at the end of my junior year was less than $85, and that bank account was started when I was in grade school.  I bought own clothes at times, although my mom would buy my fabric if I sewed my own.  That was back when it was cheaper to sew.  When I was in college, I worked summers for my room and board, as I had a tuition plus scholarship, thanks to a long dead philanthropist.  Basically, there was no belief about money, except I was powerless.

As for the "I'm not worthy" point, I don't think he got it, about how so many times the boys got an allowance, and girls didn't.  That's how it was at my cousins' house.  (I have one brother, who is way younger than I, and he didn't get an allowance at the time either.)  I sure didn't any allowance, and I didn't earn any money, other than the once-in-a-blue-moon baby-sitting job at a neighbors, where I had to immediately put the money into the savings account at the bank. I didn't get any money from my parents if I wasn't worthy, like if I'd fought with my sister earlier in the day, or whatever other reason my parents found.  I didn't get any money if my room was clean, because it's supposed to be clean, and if I asked for money, the answer would be something like, "you don't need to get that,"  but if I asked for some money to get something, and my room wasn't clean, then that was a reason not to give me any money. There was always a reason not to give out any money, but no reason to give any, and worse, no way for me to earn it.

One item I despised in the book was the marshmallow experiment (page 88), where a four year old had a marshmallow put in front of the kid, and the experimenter told the kid that if he/she didn't eat the marshmallow, and it was still there when the experimenter came back, then there would be two marshmallows.  So some of the kids didn't eat the marshmallows, and they grew up to be smarter, richer and Mary Sue and Gary Stus, because they could delay gratification.  Hey, guess what, Sherlock:  Some kids ate the marshmallows because they were already taught that adults lie.  I know that was true in my family.  Eat the marshmallow if you want to, but you're going to get a smack on your head.  And even if you left it alone, there's not going to be a second one.  Better not to want the marshmallow at all, so you don't get a smack if you take it, and you don't get disappointed when there isn't the second one.

As for undervaluing my abilities--I would have ideas and time and time again they would get shot down.  When I was a kid, I'd think of a song, and go to the piano to try to write it out, and get chewed out for "making noise." It seemed that time and time again, "it's stupid," "a waste of time," etc.  How do people get past that, and do something? Yes, writing fan fiction didn't make me any money, and it probably caused more problems than it solved, but I enjoyed it, and when I did it, I got more ideas for other things, and now I quit and made some people satisfied that I quit, but now I don't have any ideas at all.  Like when I gave up trying to write music--I used to create symphonies in my head, and now I just want something from youtube to go into it.

Investment paralysis.  I've blown it there so bad, being afraid of making a mistake, of having someone, anyone, mad at me.  I should have pulled my daughter's account when I felt that the stock exchange guy didn't respect me, and put the whole thing into CDs on my own.  I shouldn't have worried about what my cousin would think when she handed the whole thing over to me.  I spent too much time worried about what others would think if I stood up and made some noise.  But then, I'm three years old again, having done something that a three year old would do in a grocery store, and my parents are telling me, "You see them?  They're looking at you.  They're laughing at you," as they point to the meat cutters who are standing behind the counter, watching people walk by, laughing at who knows what joke.

There isn't any job right now, and there isn't anything to invest.  We're living off of the money my mother-in-law gave us, and we've got medical bills up the wazoo.   I went to college.  Got two bachelor degrees. But now, except for shipping my own kids off to college, I'm wondering what good it's going me now, in providing for my life now and in my future.  I'm stuck at the Brad Lemley adage (paraphrased):  "An education is directly proportional to the enjoyment one has in watching the sunrise."  (It was the moral to a story Brad wrote of all these college graduates--bachelors, masters, doctorates, who, after college, couldn't find any work other than the backbreaking work of tree planting, and how they still had great attitudes as they discussed the sun rising over their labors.  Decades since he wrote the story, tree planting is no longer available to Oregon citizens:  the companies claimed that there weren't any people qualified to do it, and so imported laborers from other countries, using government funding to do so.)

I would like to be in the position of the paragraph on page 13:  In order to be truly happy, we must live balanced lives.  To be in great fiscal health is very much like being in great physical health: it allows you to do more and be more, and it permits you to live your life free of constant pain and bondage.

I'm tired.  It's draining going back into the past, and hearing and seeing stuff all over again.  I hope my kids do way better than I have.  I'm glad they've turned out good.

I'm going to bed.  Tomorrow is Sunday.

Today I decide to be wealthy.

Thursday

"Today I decide to be wealthy."  Repeat morning and night, and during the day, whenever.

Affirmations are nothing new.  The Greatest Salesman in the World was very popular in the '70's, and I think my dad even had a copy of it.  I got a copy of it when I was in Eugene or Logan, and tried doing it, and failed by the second chapter.  One of my friends, a former missionary, said that the affirmation sentences were all put together and was basically a mission chant.  She wasn't even aware that there was a book, let alone the preaching published for each affirmation.

Saturday Night Live mocked affirmations I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like Me!: Daily Affirmations With Stuart Smalley, is still available on-line.  The author of that is now in politics; you have to believe in yourself pretty good to have that job.

But I'm still going to try this one--  Today I decide to be wealthy.  (Not become, but to be.)

One of the other things in the book was about "making money in the margins."  I'm a trained writer; I've sold a short story and a children's puzzle, so I'm also a published one, even though it was decades ago.  I should be using this talent to make some money.

And goodness knows, I still have Sister B.'s book to do, the family history books and the neighborhood newsletter, all today.