Triumph by proxy: my half-assed primal husband somehow misplaced fifteen pounds in about three weeks. I'm steadfastly refusing to weigh myself because I'm a total weenie about it. We don't own a scale, but he hopped on at the vet's office last week.
However! My own triumph, I am loving like hell the PB directive to spend some time in the sun every day. I started by lolling around in the yard with a book on my lunch breaks, but that evolved into a serious resolution to up the ante with my little "urban homestead" this year. So! In that spirit, I've so far: potted a crazy bunch of herbs, planted all kinds of veggies and greens, gave some love to my grape vines and got them re-arranged, took a hatchet to my cherry, plum, and snowbell trees and whupped them into shape, moved a medium-sized lilac into a happy new home, cleared the jungle along side the garage and set up a proper, living compost pile (as opposed to the "pile of discarded vegetation" that's always been there), thinned out the dead blackberry canes and tidied up the thicket, and set up a spot to plant some asparagus crowns. *Whew*! I made a point to do everything the "hard" way and used a hatchet (which, if you haven't tried it, let me tell you it's *super* fun) and pitchfork for everything, instead of gas-powered tools. I swear, I'd never have had the energy or inspiration to get so much done out there without the PB. It's a nice way to get my sunshine and love my green space a little more every time I visit it.
My next evil plot is to get a cattle tank and some local pond mud and set up a little mini-eco system with a few fish and some watercress and irises. Then I want some yard ducks for eggs =).
Somewhere along the way I dug out some drawstring pants I haven't seen in years. They looked small to me but I had to cinch 'em up to keep them on, that feels good. Also, and this is horrible, but I have started wearing (gasp) tank tops while working in my back yard. I will definitely not be doing this in public any time soon, but I figure anyone peeking through the fence gets whatever they deserve by looking ;0)
Grock on, PB-ers! Cheers to everyone's joys.
Last edited by mixie; 06-10-2011 at 05:50 PM.
“Falconry is not a hobby or an amusement; it is a rage. You eat and drink it, sleep it and think it. You tremble to write of it, even in recollection. It is as King James the First remarked, an extreme stirrer up of passions.” --T.H. White, The Godstone and the Blackymor
"The world must be all fucked up when men travel first class and literature goes as freight."
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude