Still under the weather…Sharing a published story about us…

While we were still living in Belize up until April 9, 2013, I wrote this new article upon the request of successful best selling author and health advocate, Jonathan Bailor.  

Retired Minnesota Couple’s “Living SANE, traveling the world”

By Jess Lyman (pictured above)
As we sit on our veranda  less than 25 feet from the Caribbean Sea, the constant calming sound of the sea as background music to our ears, we remember when  we were no different  from  average baby boomers; content to stay home, cook  great meals, visit  with family and friends, and  spend  our requisite lounging time in front of the TV.

We left it all.  On January 3, 2013, we boarded the Celebrity Century in San Diego  on our way through the Panama Canal, to begin a five to ten year long journey we’ll continue  until we don’t want to travel an more, until we tire of hauling our luggage, or until we feel a compelling desire to stay put.

Nineteen months ago,  we began another journey of drastically changing our diet.We no longer eat wheat or other grain,  processed gluten free foods,  starch ( corn or corn based products, no beans)  soy or soy based products, no sugar ( agave or other purported safe sugars all of which raise blood glucose levels),  or  fruit other than a few berries. We now eat grass fed meat,  wild caught fish  free range chicken and eggs,  non-starchy vegetables, coconut, almond and hazelnut flour, raw nuts, hard cheeses, cream cheese, unsweetened coconut milk, real butter and coconut oil.

Here’s my story.  From the time I was a teenager, my life revolved around limited portions, denying myself favorite foods and constantly being on a diet.  With a family history of severe diabetes, morbid obesity, debilitating  joint and spine disease, and rampant heart disease,  I began my adult life on a mission to stay slim, frequently going up and down in weight, often as much as 50 pounds, to eventually lose it all on some radical “diet of the month.” I exercised rigorously most of my life.   I tried it all.  I was determined.

I was always hungry, always looking at other people’s plates, wondering why I couldn’t eat that burger, those fries, that triple-decker sandwich on toasted white bread or that lofty piece of gooey chocolate cake topped with a large dollop of ice cream.

Was I eating more “calories” than I needed,  consuming  recommended amounts of carb-laden foods?  What I had perceived to be “healthy” foods packed on the weight;  whole grain breads and pasta,  lentils, brown rice, oatmeal, dried fruit, beans, whole wheat pitas and bagels, yogurt with fruit,  corn on the cob, winter squash and sweet potatoes.   Wasn’t I eating exactly what the medical profession described as a healthy diet?

Over the past 20 years, no manner how hard I tried to be healthy and escape the ravages of my “genes” I suffered with high blood sugar, high blood pressure, chronic debilitating pain and had already had one heart surgery.  I was told a total spinal fusion, from C1 to L5, was the only way to reduce the pain.  My life was going downhill fast.  A wheelchair was imminent.

I refused the surgery instead going on a mission to save my life.  I started with Dr. William Davis’s book, Wheat Belly, 19 months ago, beginning the radical changes in diet  After three months on the diet, I awoke one morning, for the first time in over 20 years, pain free.  I thought it was a fluke.
Then Jonathan Bailor’s book, The Smarter Science of Slim hit the market.  I devoured every word from cover to cover in one day and sent the Amazon link to no less than 10 of my family members and friends.

Prior to reading the book, I worked out six times a week at a local health club, an hour and a half a day, compared to a gerbil  running on a wheel, running into oblivion, performing the same mundane protocol and seeing little results.

After reading Jonathan’s book we changed  our diet to include more protein, from 60 grams a day to around 125 grams, upping our non-starchy vegetable consumption four fold.  The day after reading the book, I couldn’t wait to go to the health club to try my new protocol, instructions on my smart phone in hand, learning high intensity interval training.

It was hard to believe that two  ten- minute  sessions a week plus an active lifestyle of about 10,000 steps per day would dramatically change my health,  body composition, strength and endurance. The eight pounds I was carrying around my mid-section literally fell away. I am full for the first time in my life!  So satisfied that I  forget to eat.  So satisfied that I don’t  go rummaging around the kitchen at night craving something sweet. So satisfied that my waistline has shrunk by 3 inches and I don’t have to lay on the bed to zip my otherwise well-fitting jeans.

The pain is gone, the sleepless nights are a thing of the past, my muscles have grown  into noticeable definition, my strength has increased and I have more energy.

Why, if calories do count, can I now consume 1800 calories a day, 400 more than in the past while desperately trying to maintain my weight?  If calories do count, by now, I should have gained 66 pounds!  Instead, I’ve lost 8!

But most of all, the pain is gone. Yes, gone. After the first year, my lipids are normal for the first time in my adult life!  My blood sugar is normal.

My dear husband Tom has lost 45 pounds since we read Jonathan’s book, 45 pounds of pure and simple toxic belly fat.  Also, months ago, he was able to quit taking seven prescription pills a day, no longer has irritable bowel disease, acid reflux and constant abdominal bloating and pain.  Months ago, he quit smoking and hasn’t gained back a single pound!

Combined, we are a team to be reckoned with!

Twice a week, we walk to a resort next door that has a little health club where I spend 10 minutes, lifting weights, the HIIT way, surprised that I can do it, invigorated by the results and still in awe as to how little time it actually takes.

Currently, we’re living in Placenica Belize, departing soon after a 2 1/2 month stay in a villa on the Caribbean Sea. The cows here are skinny. Yes, skinny. They eat grass and wild vegetation, not grain. They use no pesticides or chemicals here to grow their produce or livestock. Chicken, the main protein source,  roaming free in the farms. Their eggs are all organic, brown and $2 a dozen. This has been a heavenly experience.

Every few days early in the morning, we walk to the adjoining town to buy fresh organic at the outdoor vegetable stand.  The cauliflower is not perfectly shaped, the broccoli is sparse in places, the carrots are uneven shapes and the cabbage,  not as dense as I recall.  Why?  No chemicals. The produce grows unencumbered, a product of clean, non chlorinated spring water, a soil free from “Round-Up Ready” modified seeds and merely subject to varying weather conditions and the loving hands of the local people who  pick it.

Now, as we travel to our next adventures–  Dubai this spring;  Tuscany, Italy this summer; Kenya in the fall;  South Africa in the winter;  Morocco the next spring and on and on, we’ll continue to seek out the simple foods we choose to eat, a safe place to walk, a little corner to exercise and we’re home free… albeit, we don’t have a home… but, in any case, we are free.
For more about our story, please visit us at:
www.WorldWideWaftage.com

Enjoy the new Smarter Science of Slim podcast on iTunes

The Slim Is Simple.org Non-Profit Nutrition Education Effort


 

 

Visiting a friend in St. Thomas…Photos…

Note: Due to a poor WiFi connection in this location, we are unable to correct spacing issues.

The view from the deck as we waited for clearance from immigration to leave the ship.

Thirty-three years ago, I met my friend Colleen in Minnesota. She was a successful real estate agent working for me, then a broker for an international real estate franchise. 

Becoming fast friends, we shared many common interests; philosophical viewpoints, health and fitness goals, and a love of people, animals, and the environment around us.

The view from the pier as we walked to the nearby shopping area where Colleen and I met yesterday at 11:00 am at the Dockside Bookstore.

Eight years later, after many meaningful times spent together, she decided to make a dramatic life change; sell everything she owned, leave family and friends behind, and move to the US Virgin Islands.  Sound familiar? 

Over the years, Colleen worked on charter boats, often out to sea for weeks at a time, later as a massage therapist and eventually as a wedding planner for couples preparing to marry in the islands.  Single, with a gaggle of friends, she supported herself in modest comfort, never failing to appreciate the warmth of the sun, the balmy ocean breezes, and the freedom of a simple life.

 Colleen, my friend of 33 years, has lived in St. Thomas for the past 25 years

Staying in touch and, through her visits to the US, we imagined that someday I’d see where she lived.  Yesterday, at long last, I did.

The view from Colleen’s yard, although encumbered with satellite dishes offers a great view beyond the few obstructions.
It was a joy to see my long-time friend. Tom walked me to the Dockside Bookstore in the crowded shopping area where passengers from several ships were shopping in a wide array of stores. He returned to the ship, leaving me with time alone with Colleen. 
  The view of the port of St. Thomas from our veranda.
When our visit ended, Colleen brought me back to the book store, where I walked a short distance to meet Tom at a  nearby fountain. Hand and hand, we meandered through the jammed area, later returning to the ship.
  After my visit with Colleen, we walk back on the pier as we took this shot of our ship, The Carnival Liberty.  Our cabin is eight doors behind the “bridge” (on the right in this photo) on the port side.
Surprisingly there weren’t many photo ops in that area. Mostly, it consisted of relatively modern stores, not of much interest to us. We saw a few locals, as Colleen explained. Locals don’t frequent the shops by the pier, preferring their shops and malls in other island areas.
 Many sailboats were anchored in the port area.
Goodbye, my dear friend. It was good to see you. Maybe somewhere down the road, our paths will cross again, if not in this life, perhaps in the next.
Loud reggae music was blaring from this party boat as it motored beside the ship, as the crowd whooped and hollered.
 The clouds rolled in, and it began to rain shortly after we returned to the ship later in the day.

A glorious morning…Three days and counting…

Goodbye view! We’ll always remember or we can always check here to be reminded of how much we’ve enjoyed this resort and beach.

After a night of fitful sleep, I awoke at 4:44, wide awake, thoughts running through my mind.  “When does the “motor” stop running?” I asked myself, longing to go back to sleep.

 The gentle sound of the sea at night has been soothing.

Picking up my smartphone-with-no-contract from under my pillow while putting on my spectacles-for-old-age on my eyes, I continued reading the Kindle app where I left off last night. Mindless reading. Not necessarily worthy of mention.

This is the beach we walked almost every day in Belize. We’ll miss this.

Fortunately, it was mindless enough that I dozed off to sleep for yet another hour, dreaming about what I had read.  Oh, yes, clutter my mind with mindless drivel so I don’t go there…my own worrisome thoughts as we near the end of our time in Belize.

As I lay there the second time, contemplating arising, a refreshing thought hit my brain.  No worrisome thoughts are necessary!  I’m a girl (albeit an old girl) that will be cruising for the next two-plus months (except for the 13 nights in Dubai and two separate hotel nights in Barcelona between cruises) and I’ll be looking forward to the following:

1.  No bed to make
2.  No meals to cook or grocery shopping
3.  No dishes to wash
4.  No laundry (perhaps a little hand washing)
5.  No cleaning (only tidying. Tom picks up after himself)
6.  At least one fun dress-up night a week
7.  The ocean around us with breathtaking photo ops
8.  Socializing if we choose, or not
9.  Three pools at which to lounge
10. Movie theatres inside and outdoors (we love movies)
11. Live entertainment if we so choose
12. Educational seminars
13. Ports to visit
14. Tom can drink and I don’t have to drive home
15. Easy access to a fully-equipped fitness center

These are the key points that appeal to me. For Tom, he’s enjoys all the above, except for the health club.  These points drove my mind to a place of imagination.  Imagine, we were living somewhere and were preparing to go on six cruises, almost back to back.  I’d be jumping up and down with excitement.  Tom would be doing his usual smile, enthusiasm tempered with no apparent jumping up and down.

Caribbean Sea, thanks for sharing with us!

Can I let go of all of the things that can go wrong in the six hours from leaving here Tuesday morning at 8:00 am until we’re aboard the ship by approximately 2:00 PM? Only six hours, I keep reminding myself. Only six hours. 

“Get a grip!” I tell myself, “Get a grip!”

Winding down at the local health club…Photos of a walk…

The walk under the trees from  Laru Beya to Roberts Grove Resort.

Within a day of getting situated at LaruBeya, we made our way along the beach to the property next door to us, Roberts Grove Resort, a kitschy, high energy, busy vacation spot entrenched in endless activities and jammed with guests.

One of the three pools along the walk to the health club at Robert’s Grove.

Over our two-plus months here, we’ve frequently meandered next door for dining in their three restaurants, but most of all, for me to use their air-conditioned health club. The fee for non-hotel guests is US $35 a month. At this time, LaruBeya doesn’t have a workout facility.

We duck under the bushes along the walk.

Small, the size of a standard hotel room, the health club is less of a “club” and more a fitness room with a stationary bike, elliptical, treadmill, a universal gym, and free weights. Definitely compact but exactly what I’ve needed to maintain my high-intensity interval training (HIIT) protocol, which I do faithfully twice a week for only 10 minutes each time. 

I use the stationary bike or the elliptical machine at the highest level of intensity, at intervals of 30 seconds for a total of 10 minutes every other time I work out.

This is not an easy 10 minutes. It’s 10 minutes of excruciating work. Ten minutes of groaning, grunting, sweating work. But, then, in 10 minutes, it’s over. Add to that, an effort to walk 10,000 steps per day (not always easy to do in this lazy lifestyle) and my fitness level is improving day by day.

The main pool at Robert’s Grove.

Living in Minnesota, I discovered HIIT last spring while reading the book, The Smarter Science of Slim by Jonathan Bailor I worked out five to six days a week for no less than one hour per day. Not surprisingly, I got into a monotonous routine achieving little results while barely maintaining my level of fitness.

This picture was taken this morning by one of the women I met in the workout room. 

Most of my life, I’ve worked out in a concerted effort to avert the many illnesses that ran rampant in my family history; heart disease, diabetes, joint and spine disorders, and in many cases, obesity. 

The wood sidewalk on the way to Robert’s Grove front desk where I pick up the key to the health club each time I work out.

Not entirely dodging the bullet, I’ve always felt that my exercise efforts paid off, coupled with tight controls on what I ate.  It was never fun and it was never easy. But I plodded along.

The walk along the main restaurant to the fitness room.

As I’ve mentioned many times in this blog, 20 months ago, both Tom and I drastically changed our diet to a renewed level of health and well being, that we’ve committed to maintaining for whatever time we are blessed to have left on this earth. He lost 45 pounds, was able to stop taking seven prescription pills per day, and continues to maintain his weight. (He’d better! His clothes won’t fit if he gains it back.  We’ve already replaced everything once with his weight loss).

The path continues…

It’s not always easy, especially avoiding all sugar, starch, and grains, but it’s rewarding figuring out meals that are both healthful and satisfying for both Tom and me. Tom is less strict than I, enjoying foods that would precipitate illness in me and as I’ve mentioned causing him no ill effects. 

Finally, the tiny workout room at Robert’s Grove, where I’ve worked out the past over two months.

During this morning’s workout, I met three other exercise enthusiasts, two women, and one man, all looking fit and healthy.  I had only encountered two men working out in all my prior sessions over the past two months.  With only one more workout before we leave Belize in six days, I’ll look forward to my workout facilities, aboard our upcoming six cruises over the next two months.

This is the tight interior of the workout room.  I use all of these machines at high levels (HIIT) for 10 minutes.

Working out around the world will continue, no matter where we may be.  If no facility is available, I’ll perform HIIT exercises inside or outdoors at our vacation home wherever that may be. 

Tom, much to my surprise continues to walk with me each day, claiming he’s doing it “for me.” 

For us, flexibility, being active, a healthy diet, some supplements, low stress, restful sleep, a harmonious life, mental challenges, including learning, searching, and discovering, surrounding ourselves with upbeat people, seems to have a profound effect on our health. Throw in a large dose of laughter on a continuing basis and we have our “prescription” for living a full and healthy life. 

Of course, there’s no guarantee for longevity or avoidance of illness.  But for us, it is a guarantee for happiness and well being, one day at a time.

Thoughts from a milestone birthday…

Stormy windy day on my birthday.
Repeat photo from a sunny day a few weeks ago.

Yesterday morning, on the day of my 65th birthday, clouds rolled in from the white capped sea creating a gloomy blanket over us.  Standing at the glass door at 6 am, I wondered if it would clear in time to spend the bulk of the day outside, as we’ve done over the past two weeks since arriving at Laru Beya, a virtual paradise of lush gardens, shifting sands, and non stop congeniality.

As raindrops propelled by the fierce winds splayed on the glass, for a moment I allowed myself a little whine, “Goodness, can’t it be nice on my birthday?”  Quickly reminding myself that the “old me” might have been annoyed by an inclement day, I straightened up and threw my brain into reverse.

“It’s a perfect day.  I’m 65 years old today, alive, healthy and living in a haven of loveliness with the man of my dreams, living a life I’d never imagined, a life I never dared to dream. Let it rain!  Let it pour!  It doesn’t matter.

No walk on the beach.  No long walk next door to be driven to the outdoor Singing Sands, five miles down the road to celebrate the occasion with yet another special dinner.  No one-hour by the pool soaking up our daily dose of Vitamin D, which now “they say” reduces the effects of aging.  We shall see how “that’s working for us!”

Coffee, shower, dress for the day and tidying up our place in preparation for our Mayan maid Gloria to come in and clean at 9:00 am, the same time our trusty cab driver Estevan appears to take us grocery shopping so we’ll be out of her way.

She was early.  We like her.  Tom blurted out, “It’s Jessica’s birthday today!” Obviously, he was fishing for birthday wishes for me when back in the US, the wishes came in abundance on that day. 

Gloria throws her head back and laughs, “Its my birthday today too!  Happy birthday, Miss Yessica,” she says with her sweet broken English.  We all laughed together.  Tom and I couldn’t give her enough good wishes.  How ironic?  I can’t recall ever meeting anyone with the same birthday.

Determined to find something fabulous to make for dinner, we rummaged through the three freezers at the grocery store in Seine Bight, the little town next to us, a short cab ride away.  Sensitive to Estevan waiting outside, I had an awful time making a decision:  frozen chicken parts, thin frozen steaks, frozen hot dogs or frozen short ribs. 

Hummm…what shall it be?  The limitations of our diet added to feeling confused and rushed.  I grabbed the chicken, parts unknown, unable to make a decision for any other nights. 

We grabbed the four packages of cream cheese we’d ordered a week ago,  several packages of local peanuts in the shell, a head of cabbage, six giant carrots and three onions from huge bags that had just arrived from the farm.

After a total of only $35 plus $10 plus tip for the cab, we were back on our way “home” still wondering what we’d cook for the birthday dinner.  As we put the perishables in the ample ice cold stainless steel fridge, perusing its contents, we decided on eating the leftover homemade pizza still in the freezer while I’d make a fresh batch of coleslaw by shredding the vegetables by hand. 

The knife in the drawer was dull.  I sharpened it on the rock Tom had brought inside  and washed for cracking coconuts.  It worked much to my surprise.  When does one “wash a rock” while living in the US?.  Never.  I made the coleslaw early in the day to chill.  Coleslaw and pizza?  Sure, why not?  A perfect birthday dinner.  (This was the other half of the pizza we didn’t really love but ate it anyway a week ago).  It tasted better the second time.

The rain continued throughout the day into the evening.  We’d cancelled the dinner reservation online.  We stayed in all day and evening.  I finished Part 2 of Monkey River for this blog, posting multiple photos (a slow laborious process in Blogger).  Tom watched the stock market news on TV. 

I responded to a multitude of thoughtful birthday wishes posted on Facebook, spoke to family on Skype and paid bills online. You know, the stuff we do on rainy days, snowy days, days we’re stuck inside.  I was not disappointed.  It was a good birthday.

Tom did the dishes as usual.  I played solitaire on my computer scoring my highest score ever.  At 9:30, my head nodding into my computer, I decided to turn in.  For some goofy reason I was tired. I guess that what 65 year olds do.

Twenty one days…

“They” say it may take 21 days to break a habit.   Yesterday, armed with this assumption, I began the process of changing the familiar routines that so shaped my days over the past two years of my own retirement, over the past 26 years of life here on the peninsula.  

Awakening at 4 am with a rare and unexpected head cold, I rationalized my stuffy nose and sore throat as the Universe’s way of reminding me to slow down, to breathe more deeply, to choke my organized and purposeful actions into a much gentler pace.  

In 21 days these daily habits, entrenched in our lives all these years, will be reshaped into new and unfamiliar patterns; brewing my usual morning tea in a strange teapot, pouring it into a different cup while tasting a slight variance from using bottled water. 

As always, the first sip will be accompanied by my gaze out the window in the near future at the vast expanse of the sea, mysterious and foreboding, as opposed to the cozy comfort of gazing at the lake for all these years, a shoreline in the not too distant horizon, predictable even on the windiest of days.  Not so the sea.

Stuffy head, I welcomed the cold, crisp air on the early morning walk, especially chilly at 32 degrees, fingers numb and tightly tucked into my pockets, having failed to wear gloves.  

Wiggling my toes in my tennis shoes hoping to ward off the cold, I picked up the pace walking almost an hour, stopping periodically to look up at a noisy flock of geese honking their way south or to blow my nose into the soft paper towels I had stuffed into my jacket before walking out the door.

When will I be so cold again?  In Belize, at the little oceanfront house, when the average daily temperature is 83 degrees in the winter months?  In Tuscany, next summer?  Doubtful. In Africa next fall, again a house on the sea, in a time in which it will actually be their spring? Unlikely. Or, in the prime season in Kauai in 2015, the ocean at our doorstep, the warm breezes in our faces? No, it won’t be cold.

The colorful leaves, crispy under my feet, a part of my expectations in any fall season yet to come, will forever be embedded into my memories of seasons so clearly defined.  We’ve enthusiastically welcomed and sadly bid adieu to the seasons, ready to move on to the next, often too cold with record breaking temperatures and snowfalls or, too hot with record breaking heat.

Twenty one days to break the habit of that which we have known and loved, at times bemoaned and begrudged, to begin anew in a strange land, finding our way with a touch of trepidation, with an abundance of wonder and with a never-ending desire to become familiar once again. 

Laundry around the world…

Peculiarly, caring for our clothing is somewhat of a hobby of mine. Perhaps, I was a laundress in another lifetime (not to say there is such a thing as another lifetime). Perhaps, I slept in a laundry basket as a baby.

It began when I was quite young, this fascination with laundry.  The middle of three sisters, I was assigned the task of washing, folding and ironing the family’s wardrobe when I was 10 years old. I didn’t mind at all. 

In grade school I attended a “girls only” home economics class (remember that, babyboomers?) where I learned to iron a man’s 100% cotton long sleeved dress shirt from the inside out in two minutes flat.  Failure to do a perfect job resulted in a brisk slap on the hands with a wooden ruler. (Can you imagine what would happen to that teacher in this day and age?)

Over many months, my hands were red and bruised every Thursday after the class.  I didn’t cry or complain to my parents. Determined to get it right, I practiced at home, night after night with a clunky old Sunbeam iron and a wobbly ironing board, often leaving rusty iron stains on my father’s old white dress shirt.

In time, I became the best “ironer” in the class. By the end of the school year I was presented with a pink and white certificate. Not only were my shirts the most neatly ironed in class, but I was able to accomplish the feat in 90 seconds flat.  I’d make a good housewife someday. This was 1958.  

Over the years, my ironing skills honed as irons improved and I could iron a dress shirt in 60 seconds, still doing so today.  

Folding is also quite enjoyable.  I love laundry. Putting away?  Not so much.

In this old house, the laundry is located in our creepy, cobwebbed basement, a full flight of stairs and long walk away. I don’t mind. The exercise is good, up and down, six times a day, to accomplish a mere two loads of wash.

Six flights a day, on average, over the past 26 years and I’ve run up or down, 56,940 flights of stairs!  I’d probably weight 100 more pounds had our laundry room been on the main floor.  I like laundry.

Of course, as time marches on toward the beginning of our year’s long world travels, I can’t help but think about laundry. 

Here are my concerns while living in vacation homes:

  1. Will the washers and dryers work efficiently in each of our rental homes?
  2. Will there be a nearby laundromat in the event one or both doesn’t work or in the case of the Stone House in Cajarc, France with no washer or dryer in the house at all?
  3. Will I be able to remove wrinkles with our new dual voltage steam iron?  
After considerable research, I have discovered that most cruise ships, on which we’ll spend almost one third of our time during the first five months, have no self service laundry facilities. This was both surprising and disappointing to me, far beyond my personal pleasure in doing our laundry, for the following reasons:
  1. Sending out a single tee shirt to be laundered by the ship’s staff may cost upwards of $4! Can you imagine the cost of an entire load of laundry? Including the tips payable for the staff person returning the items to the cabin and two loads of laundry may cost $100!
  2. Irons are not allowed on cruise ships and are confiscated upon entry, an obvious safety hazard (I get this). Thus, one must “send out a dress, shirt or suit coat” to be ironed, costing more than $15 each.  Ouch!  Hopefully, we can depend on that steamer.
  3. Piling up dirty underwear, socks, tee shirts and daily wear to repack in one’s suitcase is rather unappealing. Some of our cruises two weeks or longer. How many pairs of dirty underpants will we accumulate between the two of us and how much space will they take in our otherwise stuffed bags?  No, we won’t turn our underpants inside out and wear them again the next day!  No, thank you!  Dirty socks?  Yuck!!!
My little brain went to work on these realities. As for the vacation homes, we’ll just have to wing it, unaware of what we are up against until we arrive.  If the facilities are not manageable, we’ll plan a weekly outing, doubled up with other activities when we’re already renting a car and make the trip to the local laundromat a fun experience,  playing cards or reading aloud while we wait.  

I’d more than be willing to go to the laundromat without Tom, laundress that I am, but Tom insists that he’ll join me. In certain areas one won’t be safe alone at the laundromat. Daily laundry as I have known, most likely will be a thing of the past. Also, I surrender the fact that I will not be ironing unless an iron is provided.  

As for the cruises, my fingers went flying across the keyboard searching for a solution. In reading reviews at varying cruise websites, I noticed a common comment: many cruises purposely don’t have bathroom sinks with a closing drain.  Here is our solution to washing our own underwear, tee shirts, and small items, purchased from Amazon.com:
Laundry Pack w/ Sink Stopper  Price  $16

Travelon Laundry Soap Sheets, 50-Count

Travelon Laundry Soap Sheets, 50-Count

by Travelon


List Price: $7.19
Price: $4.42 ($0.28 / oz) & eligible for FREE Super Saver Shipping on orders over $25. Details
You Save: $2.77 (39%)

I purchased four of the above laundry packets which fit into the palm of my hand weighing only a few ounces.  These will provide us with 200 sinks-full of wash.  With the above clothes line that suctions inside the shower walls plus soap for my delicate items, we’ll save $100’s while cruising, leaving instead with a small load to deal with at our next vacation home.

Traveling the world for several years with no home, no place to return to repack, restock and replenish, all of these items will save us money, frustration and most of all, precious time doing that which we love, for me; a lot of love and laughter, a touch of adventure, and a little bit of laundry; for Tom, a lot of love and laughter, a touch of adventure and a smile while watching me do laundry. Ah, life is good.

We’ll have bug bites, we’ll be hot and sweaty, the bed will be lumpy, our feet will be tired, we’ll leave a shoe behind, a flight will be cancelled and a vacation home won’t be as described online.  But, in any case, our clothes will be clean.

Paper towels and toilet paper…

While grocery shopping yesterday, I grabbed a 12 pack of my favorite paper towels.  Shocked by the outrageous price of $14.96, I stepped back while my eyes scanned the other options, all of which were lower priced.  I had tried the other towels over the years but none could equal my favorites.  (BTW, this is not an ad for paper towels.  Note, no mention of a brand.  Email or call me if you want the brand name).

Then it hit me!  On average I use two rolls of paper towels a month.  With slightly over four months until departure, we will end up with about three unused rolls of paper towels including the additional cleaning to do before we sign off on the house.  No need to buy the 12 pack.

With the eight pack in hand at $9.97, the math swirling around my head, I laughed aloud at my ridiculousness, threw the eight pack in the cart and moseyed over the toilet paper, again going through the same preposterous calculations.  

I passed on the toilet paper, having counted the eight rolls on the shelf above the toilet before heading to the grocery store this morning, as I often do.  No imminent need for the ultra soft, zillion sheets, favorite toilet paper either. (Please email or call for that brand).

Certainly, a reader of this blog thinks I am the female version of Howie Mandell. I am picky, but I can be kissed, hugged, shake hands and touch the rail on the escalator at the mall (although I seldom go to a mall preferring to shop online).  I wash my hands about 20 times a day, less from obsession, more from a logical desire for the safe handling of our food. 

OCD?? Not really.  I prefer to call it “detail orientated.”  Perfectionism?  I suppose, to a degree.  I have messy cupboards and drawers with the intent to prove that I’m not a perfectionist. After all, wouldn’t a perfectionist, try to be so perfect as to try not to appear to be a perfectionist? 

Who knows and basically, who cares?  No one. Tom is hardly annoyed.  Our kids think I’m weird in any case.  And, most of all, I am neither stressed nor suffer any angst as a result of it. Periodically, I engage in a bout of worry in the middle of the night.  Then again,  who doesn’t occasionally worry in the middle of the night?

Thus, I am a content “detail orientated” individual that may annoy some of the people some of the time that, if they choose, may tease me relentlessly and I will genuinely chuckle. 

Yes, I’m packing too much stuff.  Yes, I spend too much time looking for a better deal on a small item.  Yes, I will hang clothes in the shower to get out the wrinkles.  Yes, I will wear a different outfit every formal night aboard ship and have ample choices for Tom as well.  

Yes, I will continue my healthful, low carb, wheat, grain, sugar, starch and gluten free diet. (Tom, not so much, especially aboard ship). Yes, I will continue to workout and take a handful of supplements each day.  Yes, Tom will continue to spend endless hours working online, fine tuning his ancestry.

We will bring with us, into this new life of world travel, who we are, our endless peculiarities, our annoying habits, our comfortable and seemingly pointless rituals and of course, some of our stuff.  I don’t think we’ll bring paper towels or toilet paper but then again…

No more entertaining guests…Our typical menu when entertaining guests…

Our made-from-scratch banana cream pie with meringue topping.
(Note the watermelon in the background for size reference)

We haven’t had many guests visiting lately.  Our house is upside down in varying stages of packing, organizing and rearranging in almost every room.   

Living on a lake all these years, we have frequently entertained friends either for a party of a few or of many, or for a couple or small group.

Our 6″ tall fresh strawberry creme, puff pastry Napoleon

As a passionate and enthusiastic cook/baker, coupled with Tom’s expertise as a sous chef, bottle washer and host, it was always pure pleasure to prepare the menu, shop for the ingredients and setting a well coordinated table with fresh flowers, linen napkins, matching place mats, and fine dinnerware.  

Prior to the arrival of our guests, we’d print a colored copy of the menu, each placed neatly at the individual place settings in an effort to enhance the experience for our guests.

Here is one of the many menus we saved, on this occasion presented on pretty holiday stationery:

Menu Holiday Gathering 
of Favorite Clients & Friends

December 16, 2006

First Course – Appetizer
Brie
Cheese with Apricot in Puff Pastry
Homemade
Pickled Herring Salad 
with Sesame Honey Crisps
Second Course
Shrimp
Cocktail with Tangy Cocktail Sauce 
& Lemon Wedge
Third Course
Two
Soups Served, Swirled in a Single Bowl Topped 
with Buttery 
Sautéed Morel
Mushrooms
  • Creamy
    Lobster Bisque
Vichyssoise,
served warm
Fourth Course
Salad with Belgian Endive,
Radicchio &  Hearts of Palm 
with Gorgonzola, Walnuts

& Lightly Sprinkled with a Delicate

Raspberry Vinaigrette

Fifth Course
Fillet
Mignon with Porto
bello Burgundy Sauce
Steamed Kings Crab Legs with Clarified Butter
Garlic Mashed Potatoes
French Green Beans, Drizzled 
with Lemon Tarragon Butter
Sixth Course – Dessert
Classic
Homemade Vanilla Crème Brule
Goldschlager,
Cinnamon Flavored Liqueur 
with Flecks of Gold
Cappuccino
with Chocolate Curls

By 2:00 am, guests will have departed with full bellies, slightly tipsy from copious glasses of well chosen red or white wine while Tom and I, smiling from ear to ear, rush about the kitchen putting everything back in order to nary a dirty dish or glass in the sink or a crumb on the floor. 
Our guests appeared to have had a great time and we were content to have shared our home, our food and our wine along with a certain sense of ease we somehow acquired over the years as host and hostess.  Expensive? Yes!  Worth it? Yes!  

We’ve always justified the expense of entertaining due to the fact that we seldom spent money on vacations, dining out or purchasing carry out dinners (once or twice a year at the most) preferring fresh, homemade meals.

Last August, we both became ardent advocates of the low inflammation diet, which includes committing to become wheat free, grain free, starch free, sugar free, totally gluten free and low carb.  

In the past, I frequently baked desserts just for the two of us finding as much enjoyment in the preparation as in the process of eating the delectable result.

So here we are, five months and six days away from our departure to a new and adventuresome life.  No longer will we entertain guests as we continue to pack, examining the threads of our lives and of our memories, leaving so much behind, taking so much with us.  

No longer will we sit in these oversized comfy chairs with a generous portion of homemade pie on a pretty plate, languishing in the simplicity of our homemade lives, requiring so little, gaining so much. 

We’ll make new friends along the way.  We’ll prepare homemade dinners with the simple foods of the area to share with the new friends minus the perfectly pressed and folded linen napkins, placemats and pretty plates.  

Family and old friends will visit from time to time.  We’ll make their favorite dinners, reminiscent of a time past, scouring the local farms and markets for the appropriate ingredients in an effort to recreate the familiarity.  

We’ll smile as we tidy up someone else’s kitchen, wash someone else’s plate, wipe up the crumbs from someone else’s floor, all the while hoping that our guests have had a great time.  

We’ll be content to have shared someone else’s home with the food and the wine typical for the location with that same certain sense of ease we somehow acquired over the years as host and hostess.