I woke up this morning, booted up the ol' Toshiba laptop, and got the blue screen of death. Twice. And then... nothing. Even worse than nothing, the next time I started it I got a creaking, crackling noise from the hard drive and the message, "operating system not found." Niiiice. So I tried a few things the local computer gurus suggested, including safe mode, hard disk scan, startup repair, etc, but it appears the hard drive may be at least partly fried. The gurus will be looking it over and giving me a diagnosis in a few days. Meanwhile, here I am, blogging on my teensy netbook (which I bought for travel and *love* for reading and doing light stuff in hotels, but wowsers, this little keyboard and tiny screen is something else to blog on!) I am a little distracted and my thoughts don't flow as freely on this thing, but I'm here, anyway!
I feel like I am on the edge of something. It is like standing at the edge of the ocean, maybe, watching the giant waves crash in and then roll right up to your feet and wash backwards. Or like standing at the edge of a cliff when you've climbed a high mountain and you're looking out over the tops of the forest below. (I would insert a picture of such a thing right here, as I have one on my laptop from when I went hiking 2 years ago, but that will have to wait). I was on the edge of something back in 2007. I knew it. I felt it. I was on my vacation at the beach (with extended family, in a beach house), and I was sad... so sad, at such a beautiful place with people I loved and my sweet little daughter had just turned 2 years old, but my weight and poor health made me miserable no matter how much joy was surrounding me. I could not go down and walk on the beach with my children. I sat in the beach house while my sons all went swimming and surfing and playing on the beach all day with their cousins. I looked out the window for hours and wondered what they were doing. What kind of vacation is that? What kind of *life* is that? And so it was, that while they were out playing on the beach and I was alone in the house with my daughter napping, I got out my camera and took those pictures you see at the top of my blog, in the sidebar... the 'before' pictures in the black stretch capris and white shirt, where I weighed at least 278 pounds and knew I could not live that way anymore. I took so many pictures in that mirror, of my face, my back, my side, my chins, my behind. I knew I was on the edge of something big. I knew the pictures would mean something, someday, because they were taken at a defining moment of my life. Someday I will share them here. ALL of them. With my face showing. And there will be afters, too. Because even now, 30ish pounds from my goal, the change is dramatic.
Once again I am headed to the beach with my kids. No beach house this time... just a no-frills, one room camping cabin without a bathroom or running water (just shelter and a light, basically) and then at the end of the trip we will stay at another site in a cheap motel right on the ocean with windows that look right out over the waves. There won't even be a mirror, this time, but my kids will take pictures of me I am sure. I want them to. I am on the edge of something again, like I was four years ago before I began this blog. I feel it in the air... another defining moment... and I imagine it coming to me as I walk the beach and climb the mountains. I know it is coming and I am ready. So ready.
Weekend Of Muddy Puddles
23 hours ago