|I was walking up a hill, turned to check out the view and saw the glow of the sun |
just coming up over the mountain. I did not, however, actually see the sun,
which is what the camera saw. I love this picture.
I'm going to use the photo blog this year for food pictures, probably just one meal a day. I know there are weight-loss/photo bloggers out there who hold themselves accountable by snapping a picture of every little and big thing they eat. But I'm not dragging the Rebel out every time I eat an orange, and I want to use the good camera for Project 365. I certainly get the idea of recording your daily intake with pictures, though. There's even an iPhone app that will count the calories you've eaten by analyzing your photos.
I'm not limiting my Rebel photos to food, though, which is what today's post's title is all about. All of our talk about losing weight once and for all, all the weight-loss and gym commercials cluttering up television this month, and even the discussion yesterday about Weight Watchers then-and-now seems very dark and tangled and mysterious.
|The tangled jungle that is|
the spider plant in my
Interesting, isn't it, that fruits and vegetables are zero-Point foods on the current WW plan?
I could get very analytical, but I'm not in the mood right now and I doubt either of you would find it very compelling reading. I simply want to figure out (and writing about it really helps) what seems to be the best way to chop my way through the thicket of plans and processes and programs. And I think the plan I outlined yesterday is not only effective (it was effective in October, just THREE MONTHS AGO, and then I abandoned myself to the holidays), but doable. And also because of the whole I-don't-want-to-be-old-and-immobile-thing-so-I'd-better-start-RIGHTNOW-to-eat-better-and-move-more commitment.
|Baby spider plants.|
I've watched this little rescued spider plant thrive since I brought it indoors for the winter. The mint, rosemary, chives and citrus are all doing well, too. They get fertilizer, water and sunshine on a regular basis, which is exactly what they need.
Perhaps gardening is the metaphor I need to take care of myself. I have no problem caring for my plants. They can't take care of themselves. I knew what I was doing when I brought them indoors. No one but me can make me work out or eat right or drink water or do any or all of those effective Things On The Plan.
But I'm glad, as Denise said, that the road is crowded.