BJean

Have you all tried having the butcher cut you a special bone in pork rib roast? They are awesome. I used to fix them years ago but you can hardly find them anymore in a regular grocery store.

lethea: How frustrating to not be able to save her! As her big sis, I'm sure you have wanted to for 20 years. My heart goes out to you.

Hmmm. That could be one creative way to get all your vegetables in every day.

Yeah Green, the very nature of that song was long, low and soulful. In a bad way. Depressing, really. Had many verses. Almost never would be over. The best way to shake it off was to sit on our bunks and discuss boys.

Mark sounds like your camp counselor was not smarter than mine but much HIPPER! Interesting that you grew up in So. Cal. My son lives there. His friendly next door neighbor, Mike Hunt, has a cousin named Hugh Jass. Small world, eh?

Devana: My sister and I were 13 mos. apart and we had an older brother and sister (8 & 9 years older than I.) My sister and I were almost joined at the hip most of our lives. We could read each others minds, finish each others sentences and confided in each other about every thing. We both always figured we'd outlive our husbands and wind up in an old folks home as roommates. When I realized that she was not going to be able to beat her cancer, I thought I was going to die too. Honestly it was physically painful for me. It took about 2 years or so for me to be able to even think about her without falling apart. That whole horrible time of her illness and dying was totally surreal to me. I don't know how I got through it. I can finally look at her pictures and talk about her and remember the good times, instead of the grief of losing her. Fortunately her two kids treat me like I'm their surrogate mom and that helps a lot. It has been 14 years since she died. Thanks for your supportive words.

Green: If you start out your bar-be-que tour in Virginia you will promptly wretch, turn tail and head back to Toronto. Them crazy folks think that a nice barbeque beef or pork sandwich should come loaded with cold slaw. Yup. You heard me right. COLD SLAW. Gag, wretch. Now if you want some decent barbeque honey, you trot yourself on down to Oklahoma or Texas and get you one fine pulled pork barbeque sandwich. In Texas the barbeque brisket will seriously make you delirious. The ribs are awesome too. Barbeque is a very serious art in Texas and even though Memphis is famous for its ribs, Texas actually has them beat as far as I'm concerned. In Memphis they smoke their meat and use a "dry rub" coating of seasonings all over it. If you want barbeque sauce on it, you add it at the table. Eeeh they're good, I'll give 'em that. But for the very best in barbeque, head west. In Texas and Oklahoma you can get dry rub seasoned ribs and meat if you insist, but if you want really tender and larrapin' meat, you use some amount of water in your smoker and smoke it until it nearly falls off the bone and during the last hour or so you baste it with a somewhat sweet/tart smoky dark red barbeque sauce. Yee haw! The meat should have some blacked edges all around. This all reminds me of a place where my sister used to live, El Reno, Oklahoma, where there was a stand alone red wooden shack in front of the Wal Mart (where else?) and it had a big sign on it that said Bubba's Barbeque. There was a smaller sign under that said, "Nobody beats our meat!" (I never could figure out why Bubba decided to brag about that.) Which reminds me of a ski trip we made to Beaver Creek, Colorado. We decided we needed some alcohol to take the edge off our sore muscles, and went looking for a store. There it was all big and boastful...a sign that said... are you ready? BEAVER LIQUORS. Needless to say we had to go see for ourselves! Woo, hoo!

Green: Up in Oklahoma, Kumbaya does mean "come by here" and it is the name of a church camp song that we warbled around the campfire when I was in my pre-teen years. It was an effort by the couselors to keep us from telling scary ghost stories and thinking up kissing games. However I don't know where Mark grew up, but I am pretty sure that his camp counselors were a more intelligent bunch than the ones I was stuck with.

Wheetsin was a little confused about which thread this is. :embarassed:

faith: Great advice. Through and through. I have the band and it was good for me to read. When you get through the first 6 months post op, it is easy to backslide. You're feeling good, you get happy and then boom, you regress and start eating the things that made you fat. It is important to have a plan. Using fitday.com has helped a lot of people. I know it would help me just to make myself aware of what I'm really eating every day. It is so easy to pop something in on the go and forget ever having eaten it. The next thing you know, you start with the cravings that are hard to ignore. Good advice, faithmd!

Carlene: Sad, but true. If I were older and a man, I'd qualify as a dirty old man, I reckon. I must say though that it's fun to be me!

There seems to be a very high incidence of very early miscarriages in my DDs age group. They think that it is because of the very accurate early pregnancy tests that are available these days. We had early miscarriages too, but didn't know it. We just thought we were having an extremely heavy uncomfortable period. That certainly happened to me once. I had no idea until my doc told me and recommended a D&C.

Green: If there were a way that we could stage a par-tay for that guest list of yours, I'll bet we could get some newbies to join us with their nice fresh meds. Maybe Eddie or Mark could score us some snazzy accommodations in Chile.

Eddie! The next thing you're gonna tell me is that you don't care for Barbra Streisand. :heh: My bubble has been burst.

Denise: Maybe there's about a 6 month thing where we all plateau for a bit and then we start losing again. If you are exercising regularly, you may be building muscle so well that you are actually gaining a little since muscle weighs more than fat. You will begin to see results on the scales if you keep exercising regularly. Do not lose faith! Green: Yes, I was doing water aerobics until we went to California. I didn't pay for April because I knew we'd be gone. I've avoided going back since we got home because, to be honest, the time it took to commute and the time of day of the classes was just so totally inconvenient. However the truth is that it was definitely helping me. My knees were much better and I am sure I was strengthening muscles everywhere - even though it was a soft-core class. Not strenous at all. It was a class specifically for people just like me. Did I tell you about when I went to the first class? There were 12 chubby old ladies all flopping around in the pool. I thought, how depressing to have to go to a class with all these old chubby ladies. All of them had bad knees and had already had some sort of knee surgery. The lady next to me in the water made some crack about her age and I giggled and asked her how old she was. Humph! She was younger than I am. Talk about being paralized. I was for a few moments until I could get a grip. Then when I went into the locker room later, I took a hard look at myself next to a couple of them. I was them, they were me. Holy frijoles!! What a wake up call. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, BJ. Now that we've had this little talk Green, I am getting reenergized and recommitted to getting back at it. Thanks.

Devana: Have I told you lately how jealous I am? Seriously it's great to read about your relationship with your sister. My sister and I were so close and so supportive of each other in every aspect of our lives. I miss her terribly. Count your blessings - although I know you do from your post!

Mr Yo: Excellent point. Another point to ponder: the more you exercise your legs, the better the circulation and consequently enhanced libido.

karey: High five. But not for joy. We're pretty much in the same boat. I have 40 more lbs. to lose and I am at a complete standstill. I too have been considering a personal trainer. I also shrudder at the thought of the expense and time required. I will have to find someone who is schooled in exercise therapy for crippled bastards (that's what my sister used to call those of us with bad knees due to being overweight and having arthritis.) I can't take a chance of having someone put me in worse shape, knee-wise. I've also thought about doing the high protein/low-carb thing. The positive thing about that approach is that these danged high carb treats I've been incorporating into my daily intake will be out of the picture and keep me from craving more of them! Keep me posted on your plans and if you're getting results. I can sure use some inspiration from someone with issues like mine. (NOT suggesting you have carb issues of course!)

Carlene: I have no information that HRT causes hair loss. I do have personal experience to tell you that HRT does not encourage hair growth!! My LB doc says it is normal for us to lose hair after the surgery (usually about 6 months out.) You're too far removed from your surgery for that to be a problem. I've read here that biotin should be taken to discourage hair loss in women.

Green: My DH's biggest complaint when I make soup (and almost anything else) is that I make enough for 20 people. He hates leftovers. I freeze the leftovers so as not to forget about the starving children in China (as me mum used to tell us) and they become like blocks of ice. Then when I bring too much home from the market that requires freezer storage and I'm out of space, I toss the ancient unidentifiable blocks of ice into the waste bin. Our pocketbooks would be much better served if we just ate out at nice restaurants all the time. I still have trouble not using 8 eggs in an omelet for two. Yours and Mr. Green's co-existence sounds marvelous - except for the German cold cuts. I have a German friend who thinks that a gourmet meal always includes some kind of wurst. I grew up in Oklahoma where weiners were always followed by s'mores around the campfire.

Wheet: I discovered that both my DD and my DIL wash their pillows. When I revealed my surprise to my DD, she was aghast at the very idea that I have never washed a pillow in my whole life. She's shocked that she didn't die from pillow mite infestation or foam cootie bites. (We all have an aversion to duck feathers up our noses.) (I will probably get drummed out of the Martha Stewart Corps for that!)

I am thrilled to read ghetto's story of an adoption with a very happy ending! Fantastic. You are one lucky person. And so are your parents! Don't we wish that your story was always the outcome for all adoptions. I worry about some of the really bad stories we hear. I'm sure they are in the minority - most people who adopt really want a child and really love the child they adopt. faith: your next to last sentence made me think about a story I posted a while back about a lovely gal I met in Virginia when I was a legislative aide. She was an attorney and fresh out of college. There was an ERA debate at the capital one day and we talked about it over lunch. She was even more rabid than I about women's right to choose. You see, she had become pregnant from a date rape. At the time, abortion was illegal. She could have tried for a backstreet abortion somewhere, but among other things (like the illegality of it) she was too scared. She realized she had no alternative but to have the baby and put it up for adoption. Then she planned to finish school, carve out a worthwhile career, meet a wonderful man and live happily ever after. Except it didn't play out that way. During her pregnancy, she learned that she had the kind of skin that makes stretch marks - big red, ugly stretch marks. On her belly, her sides and her breasts. She did give her baby up for adoption. She was so tormented by the rape, she just couldn't find it in herself to have warm motherly feelings about the being that was living inside her. The pregnancy was the result of a horrible nightmarish event committed against her by a horrible man. But she was so physically scarred, there was no chance of her marrying someone and falling in love and keeping the whole hellish memory of the rape and the 9 months of pregnancy and the 36 hours of difficult labor and delivery, a secret so that she wouldn't be judged or discriminated against. Her stretch marks would always be there to tell her story. Anyone she might consider marrying would have to be told. She was suffering from serious depression and having to be treated for it. Her story was one of the reasons that I came to believe that it is a woman's right to choose. No one can make that decision for another human. It is way too complicated and no one else's business but the mother, and possibly the father (except in cases like hers) and her doctor. Mark: I haven't made many comments about your posts at this thread, but I do so appreciate them. You sound like a very intelligent and humane individual.

airwayman: No wonder you have a fondness for buying gifts. You obviously know where to shop. Upscale ladies lingerie, perhaps?

Heck, who wouldn't want a good wife?

Well I'm a little confused here. You're talking about domestic things I know nothing of. I'm only into the perfecting it part. Setting a lovely table, making the perfect meal, dabbling in the fine arts for home and hobby. I really try not to get too involved in the drudgery part. I've always been very perplexed when I've observed Martha discussing the qualities of a linen soak. I thought we were just supposed to have fun with this. Whitening my linens is not my idea of a good time. Green, you IRON? I NEVER iron. And I am not exaggerating. You can seriously harm a decent article of clothing with a hot iron. Trust me, I've tried it. I had basically the same homemaking skills as you Green... me mum was a career woman and never taught me how to cook, clean or iron. Her mother never taught her (they had full time domestic help.) Unfortunately she married my very good-looking but very poor father. He pitched in by teaching her how to cook because his mom taught him. He was a pretty mamma's boy. But I must qualify the "how to cook" phrase only to include things like: country fried chicken with cream gravy, tons of big mashed and buttered potatoes, snap peas, cornbread and pies. Lots and lots of pies. Hence my need for Martha to refine my skills so as to snag Mr. BJean and to get bailed out of my ultimate physical mess by the lap band.