I know I said it wasn't going to be about the struggle

Several days ago I wrote a sort of manifesto for my one thousandth post, some blather about moving on, escaping from the prison of food, I'm more than my weight, blah, blah, blah. I've been doing pretty well not bringing up the subject one way or the other.

But I gotta tell you, it's hard to not focus on something that gets in your way every. damned. day.

And it's especially hard when, now that I'm much more active than I've been all winter, the number on the scale is creeping upward.

I would have expected the opposite. Wouldn't you?

I recently ordered a couple nice pairs of capris in a size smaller than I wore last summer. Last summer's capris are very baggy and I'm constantly fussing with them. The new ones came, I tried them on, they were a little snug. But I thought to myself that it wouldn't take long before I'd be able to wear them comfortably. At the rate I'm going, it's going to take, um, forever.

So I'm discouraged this morning, and sad, because I don't want to think about my weight all the damned time, but my weight is holding me back from doing things – normal things, little things, things most people take for granted. Things like getting out of bed, which was very difficult to do this morning.

Not a good way to start a rainy weekend. Sorry for the backsliding attitude, but it's my blog and I'll cry/whine/bitch if I want to. (Plus, it's Saturday and not as many people will see it as if it were a weekday.)

I have it on good authority …

that the marmalade turned out great. The friend I was helping with the holiday card went home with two jars and he called it "mmmmmmarmalade." Sounds to me like he liked it!

I'm still working on the 2010 jar I opened the other day. When I tilt one of the new jars, the contents move a little and the color is lovely. Last year's overcooked batch was darker, and the content wasn't really mobile in the jar unless it had been warmed. Delicious, but not something I would serve or give away.

That's the thing about home-canned jams and jellies – you don't know how they'll behave until you open the jar. Surprise! It's like Christmas every time you want a piece of toast. And you can process two batches identically with different results. That happened to me with apple jelly last year. One batch was truly perfect, while the second was a little runny. Which, of course, adds to the charm of home-canned fruit. Heh.

I have enough citrus "in stock" to make two more batches of marmalade, with a couple pieces of fruit left over to eat, though I'll probably just make one. Six pounds of fruit yielded 13 8-ounce jars on Friday. Which reminds me, I should probably check my jar supply.

I spent yesterday hunched over a scanner and the computer, preserving old photographs to load onto the digital picture frame we're giving my husband's mother. I hope she likes it, and I'm wondering if I could hire myself out as a digital picture frame loader-upper. People my mother-in-law's age would really enjoy the memories, but generally don't have the equipment or technical skills to set up the frame. Hmmm. I think I'll put an ad in the paper.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about my weight and fitness and health in general, and I have some stuff to say about it, but not today. All those ideas need to cook a little bit more. Like, maybe, until January 1st. In the meantime, there's football and knitting and Christmas dinner to plan. This week I'll be making candy to go with the cookies we're taking to the Christmas Eve open house we've gone to for the past 15 years.

Probably not a good week to write about my weight and fitness and health. I'm just sayin'.