From Chuck Galvin's walls. The Bird Man of Marin County.

1. Get in touch with your in-fun-it self.
2. Develop your fool potential.
3. Don't forget how unique and special you are. Without you there could be no everybody.

Sunday...6 hours of repotting. This is the inevitable backlash of being a nutter, container gardenging out of necessity, and being a size queen when it comes to foliage. And I'm only 1/2 done. *thud* At least it was far cooler yesterday than Saturday. The bees, wasps, and hummingbirds were pissy at me all day because I'd upset the balance of the deck. But those in the know already know how I deal with insects that get in my face. After the "glare" they usually settle nearby and look suitably chastised. The hummingbirds...well, they're birds, and we all know they just bitch for fun, like my pasta-stuffed gem.

Repotted:
Black-stemmed Hydrangea into a 20 gallon tub
Wisteria into 15 gallon tubs (one white, one purple)
Angel's Trumpet vine into a 15 gallon tub
Tibouchina (tee-boo-kye-nuh) into a 15 gallon tub

Used:
4 cubic feet of pricey water-retentive soil
1 cubic foot of shredded bark mulch
1 quart of root stimulator
25 gallons of sweat

This may only sound like the repotting of 4 plants, but heft large plants in 15 gallon tubs of wet soil once or twice. Now lift them about 4 feet off the ground. That's the ticket. But I'm proud of myself cuz the deck is fully swept down, I made some hard decisions about what to keep, and what to toss, and I finally got around to doing all of this fer chrissake. Last weekend I was barfing after all.

What I wanna do piece by piece for the rest of the week (cuz I don't wanna lose another full weekend day to this psychosis called GARDENING):
--rehang wind chime
--relocated hummingbird feeder
--train Wisteria vine shoots securely
--repot Lilac vine
--repot French Lavendar
--repot Spanish (rabbit ear) Lavendar
--repot Rosemary
--repot Dusty Miller
--repot Norolk Pine (gots to keep the Xmas tree a-growin)
--repot Lantana

We traipsed into SF to the Great American Music Hall last night to see Concrete Blonde, one of Duane's favorite bands in the world, and now offically one of mine. My first sighting of them, was apparently his 7th. I've found that not an unusal ratio going to a lot of concerts this summer with him.

If you've never seen the inside of this place, go. Check it out. It's smack out of the 40's and 50s era of dance halls. You know, a dime a dance, a dime a lady? It's a miniature opera house with a spacious bare wooden floor in the center. The upstairs is a giant balcony circling the "dance floor" with tables and ringside seats. The stage is two-story. The kind where you can picture a small brass band, drumset, vocalist, or maybe a string ensemble in the upstairs portion. Yeah, I could feel the age of the place. Good times have been had under that roof. Prohibition there must have been a blast.

Anyway, Zonk opened for them. They were a techno-pop group with lots of good talent, and plenty of ideas. A guitar player with his own PowerBook and keyboard, no drums but a DJ set-up replete with a Titanium, base player with a harmonica brace around his neck, and a skinny red-headed vocalist in a Chinese dress prone to bullhorns and a kazoo. Yeah, it was interesting. I know you wanna hear it now ;)

Then intermission, followed by Concrete Blonde's emergence. A 3-piece band (drums, guitar, bass). Jim Mankey, the guitarist, is a middle-aged guy with gray hair, crocodile boots, and talent instead of skin - damn he could pluck the strings. And Johnette....well, kudos for her on all levels. She walked out in a black. fitted, shiny, knee length, sleeveless number (no frills), long black hair and a cowboy hat low on her brow, and barefoot. It was warm in there, so the hat came off fast, perhaps blown off by the force of her voice. That woman plays bass, and makes your skin ripple with the volumes and tones she can achieve. She's one of those singers who "don't do" mastering of the vocals. No need.

They played for neary 2 solid hours and the time flew by. Aside from the diehard behind me who woo-hooed in my ear one too many times during the first 3 songs, the entire experience was fantastic. I hate being critical of diehards, cuz every band deserves em, but this guy was in my right hear. I found that an abrupt about face and a curious expression from a 245 pound guy like me is enough to make a guy stop yelling - I didn't want to be a dick, but he woo-hooed during every one of Johnette's vocal peaks of the first 3 songs. Imagine going to a concert and only being allowed to hear the choruses, and you'd get my frustration. He fortunatly moved off, or got too hoarse to yell anymore, and I could ear every sordid, sexy, magnificent dulcet tone Johnette pumped out the rest of the night...ah, heaven.

For a final gastronomic hoo-rah before hitting the point calculator for good, Friday night we went to the Mountain House restaurant on Skyline. Nestled in the dark woods about 15 minutes south of 92/Skyline, fire place in the bar, soft live music in the corner. Only 20 minutes from home, and in the neighborhood we (secretly) really want to live in.

We started with some Fat Tire in the bar, and had a lookaround. If you get past the bar's signed Jerry Rice jersey under glass, and other unobtrusive sports paraphenelia, you get to the restaurant with phenomenal food. When it was time to feed, we ventured in...

Bruschetta (a variety without mozarella!). Duane was suitably pleased. The bread for it was sweet and thick to counter the spicy tomato salsa on top. Our server, Nancy, was awesome. She brought our caesar salad and a huge pepper grinder. She asked if we liked pepper, and seeing the gleam in our eyes, doused our salads. Apparently the chef loves pepper, too, and makes the dressing to go really well with copious amounts of it. We were in (peppery) heaven. Nancy was a corker. A man at another table, a regular apprently, was giving her some friendly shit about something, and she smiled, started walking away, and slapped her ass for him. A slim, knowledgeable woman in her early 50's...it was a sight to behold. Duane had Hanger Steak, potatoes and veggies cooked to perfection - we were really surprised how well everything was cooked. I had a seafood pasta with huge scallops that melted, prawns, mussels and clams. The amount of pasta and cream-based sauce was perfect - no overfilling was required to eat the whole thing, and nothing needed salt or other seasoning. We shared a bottle of Viognier Chardonnay. Dessert had a high drool factor: Duane's was blackberry peach cobbler. Mine was a black pecan pie. Both with a scoop of cinnamon ice cream. We wanted to share each others', and we tried, but we both found ourselves growling over our own. We managed a trifle of sharing, and found it easier afterwards ;)

Afterwards we sat in the bar and listened to a 3-man band (guitar, base, and drums) do some jazzy pieces. Duane was transfixed, saying it was some of the best quality live music he'd heard in years - then denounced the live "shit" you always hear in the city. Love those fickle musicians. Nancy showed up with a card for the restaurant where you can hit the website and get dessert coupons, and nudged us to come to the Labor Day King Mountain Art Fair, which she says is the best around. Walking out the door and turning to look at our newfound favorite restaurant, we spotted the candelit outdoor drinking nook, and prompty decided pre-dinner drinks would be had there next time. Then home, and sleep, and more sleep.

I'm shrugging off this sense of failure. The Universe is about beginnings, not endings. The loss of 4 months of data is unfortunate and inconvenient, but it's not a show-stopper. I've narrowed down what my strengths and weaknesses are. I feel better prepared. I'm now going to dig in and get serious about putting my health and peace-of-mind first. I expect hiccups, and I expect Life to happen, but I'm done bemoaning what I deem failures that are just a result of being half-assed. Half-assed isn't a failure, it's just a lack of strong committment. I've made progress, I'll take that success, it's time for more. That said, let's push on shall we?

It's August 27th, 2004, and I'm off...

This is a day for ffff(udge). Finally sat down to figure out (once again) how to sync my Palm Pilot to the computer. Figured it out. Also figured out how to delete programs from the Palm. Managed to somehow accidentally delete all of my point-counting data for the last 4 months. *rolling eyes, breathing deeply*

I've been having a hard time getting back on the wagon since coming back from vacation, and (I've posted this before) I know it's my weakness. Even though I mindfully gave myself permission to eat what I wanted, and not count points. Even though I went on 1 to 1.5 hour walks, sometimes multiple walks per day, every single day. Even though I only gained 1 pound during the trip.

Note to Self: Adam, one of your biggest hurdles in life is giving yourself a frickin break. No one, and I repeat, No One, is harder on me than anyone else. My problem is I'm still sort of on vacation from counting points, and haven't been doing it consistently for the last 2 weeks. The result? A sense of failure.

It's annoying that I can make those break-giving decisions and still berate myself as if I'd failed somehow. It's as if somewhere on a backburner in my brain is a big ugly pot of burnt goo that I refuse to toss, but let sit and smoke and fester, if only to remind myself that I can fuck up and am likely to do it again.

On the otherhand, there's this "clean slate" sensation from having to start anew withe a fresh point-counting database. Sort of feel like I can start from scratch and not worry about the last 3 or so weeks of random days of 0 points catalogued. Sigh, sometimes it has to be the small pleasures that get you through, ya know?

oh briliiant, Adam

that hangover was mighty fun

dumb dumb dumb

Happy Sunday everyone! Did you wake up to barf at 4 am?
You don't know what you you're missing. Or perhaps you do, which makes you smarter than me.

I have been on vacation, that's where. From everything.

A week at the beach, where I conciously said FU to all things regarding counting points, or exercise. I just said bleah to it all and enjoyed myself. Came back and had gained only 1 pound. Not bad if you ask me. Now I'm back at work and up to my ears in everything. I've kept my cool, and have even enjoyed being busy, and I'm still carrying a bit of joy and peace from the vacation with me.

What else? Read on...

What makes the last couple of week stand out?

The most amazing cookie recipe in the freakin world.
Brownies to make you underwear vibrate.
Home!
Wisteria that grew several feet and is happily reaching out everywhere.
Large Large pots to replant, uh, not everything?
Daddy-O has a brand new job, and his energy is bluuuuue and greeeeen.
A smiling moon.
Being your own tornado, stirring things up just for fun.
A new non-stick saute pan.
New clothes that fit, in my colors.

Sleeeeep in my oooowwn bed.

So it's been a week. Not much sleep, a lot of work. The lack of sleep contributed to the lack of exercise for the last week or so. And the nagging sore throat didn't motivate me to push what little activity I did get. I've been eating within points for nearly a month now. Rejoicing about that. I look at the mirror and see some changes, and more importantly, feel them, too. I know it would all be happening faster if I exercised, but I feel I'm making smart decisions by not pushing it when my body is showing progress and getting sick now would only hinder me. Vacationing next week. A kitchen away from home - it'll be like camping.

So we come to the beginning of a new month, after witnessing the rising of a phenomenal Blue Moon, the last we'll see until mid-2007. I have to admit I've felt this moon differently than I've felt moons in the past. I've been struggling to stay on plan for the last week, or more accurately, struggling to keep track of my points. I've had a couple of concerts which involved some fun drinking and late night food to soak up the alcohol. I was true to counting, but it seems the swelling of the 2nd moon this month helped me suck up a few extra points, too.

By Saturday morning, I'd caught up on my lost sleep, but also developed a "fuck it" attitude. I was happy, content, feeling dozy, the neighborhood was fogged in and everything had this cozy aura about it. I stayed at home, didn't work out, did some chores, played with the bird, and pretty much said to myself I wasn't counting points today, but wasn't going to over eat. I knew that Saturday night was a dinner party/gathering sort of thing and it would involve foods hard to count at best, and desserty and pointy at worst. I drank cocktails, ate some lean meats, sampled some cheese, and ate bites of desserts here and there. I'm sure I soared way over points for the week from both the alcohol and the evening, but even before the party Saturday night, I was already 20 points over. How could it get worse? ;) That's not the source of the "fuck it" attitude, honestly. I just felt like letting go, giving myself a short break. I've lost some weight, but not sure how much, I can see and feel the difference. I treated myself. The week was ended way over points, with little exercise. I've also been fighting off a sore throat, and being overtired from the late night concerts, so exercise seemed too much. That week is over.

The new week ahead of me, in a new month, is beginning. I'm back on plan and ready to move. I have just over 2 weeks until my next weigh-in, and I'm gonna make the most of them. Eat right, count points, bake and feed the masses at work, try some new healthy recipes, workout, bike rides, weight training. And oh yeah....heh....I'm going on vacation from the 9th to the 13th leaving me 4 days from the end of vacation to the weigh-in. And food and wine are on the program....sigh. Ok. Vacation strategies. I have to read up on them. I'll be at the beach. Long walks are the primary source of exercise there, and I can easily do a couple of them a day - around an hour each one. At my current weight, a light walk of 60 minutes is 3.5 activity points. Do that twice a day and I pull in 7-8 activity points a day.