Dieting Drearies

I'm getting really tired of dieting, but I'm not going to quit. I really have no choice. The minute I open the door to sugar, it's over. I'm not ready to throw the pounds back on and elevate the blood pressure again, and aggravate the knee joints, and bring on the chest pain...so there it is. I'm just going to eat boring food for the rest of my life. Oh, it's not so bad. On Sundays and special occasions, I can break the rules...but that means I have to be ridiculously cautious the rest of the week. I'm not looking for a lot of solutions here; really, I suspect there are none. I'm just asking for sympathy!

Here's the problem:
Why don't the food companies make sugar-free food in more flavors?

I see mocha, pumpkin, cream cheese, mint, caramel, raspberry, cherry, blueberry and coconut cream. But not in the sugar free. Nope. We get vanilla and hazelnut. Don't get me wrong. I like vanilla and hazelnut...but I like the others too. Where are they?

Think about cake mixes. They come in a jillion flavors. We get chocolate and vanilla. Nice.

Ice cream? Same there. I  would love to eat almond chocolate, coconut ice cream...or mint chocolate chip...or peach. I dream of peach ice cream.

And then there's jello pudding. It's my one delightful sixty- calorie treat. I like it. But I'd like it more if it came in Mocha, Coffee, Coconut, Tapioca, Cherry, Peach, or Custard!

Yesterday evening we shopped in a larger city. I scanned the offerings hopefully. After all, online there are pictures of other flavors.
Nope. No luck.

Finally, I spotted a sugar-free tapioca pudding. It was another brand, but it might be tasty. Right? Well it might have been, but it wasn't. In fact there was no taste at all. Imagine eating starch soup. Yep.

Oh well. If only all my problems in life were this small....

Turtle Goes Fishing

The day was calm and fishful
at least the fisherman was wishful.
When he took his light canoe
And sought a quiet spot

 Near the shore the rocks were slippery
His vessel prone to flippery
So he braved the deeper waters
Where fish just might be caught












But ski boats agitated
Sent waves that aggravated
The canoe was buffeted a bit
And the fish were scared away










So he rowed back empty-handed,
Made sure the boat was landed,
And he had an impressive sunburn
To show for the entire day.

Medicine Park

We stopped and had a picnic supper in a recently-discovered and highly commercialized little resort  called Medicine Park. This river area was a public park, running through the center of town.

There were little kids splashing everywhere, so I finally caved in and let Zay and Mim wade in the water---but only up to their necks. Well, if you had smelled the water, you would have set a few limits too!

 The geese were fearlessly swimming and strutting all over the place, joining the waders and begging--nay, demanding--scraps from our picnic lunch. While we were watching the grandchildren  doggy-paddle in the puddle, three wild ducks swooped down and made a glide through the canyon. It was impressive.

 

All the same, we had a concert to attend, so we soon called our bedraggled youngsters to the car, where they struggled into clean, dry clothes that didn't smell like old geese poop. We made it to the school auditorium and listened to Elijah's third-graders and then his fifth-graders. All together, there were around two hundred and sixty choir students. They sang exuberantly. With the auditorium packed, I'm sure nobody noticed what remained of the pond-water smell.

Attractions--Large and Small

 The fence is to keep tourists out...at least the ones who follow the rules and suggested guidelines. The buffalo in the background don't read, yet for some reason they keep their distance from this fierce little attraction

 We always have to stop and say hello to the prairie dogs in their village full of tunnels. Most of the time there are plenty of them on the surface, standing to bark a warning, or slinking up to the fence, hoping for someone to disregard the notice board and throw them a cheese pretzel.

This one found something to munch. We thought it looked like a piece of bread crust, but didn't want to approach and ask politely to see. After-all, if buffalo are afraid of them, they must be fearsome indeed. I'm sure the "cuteness" is just a ruse.

A Picnic in May on a Hot, Windy Day

 When my own children were young, we used to hike in the Wichita Mountains. Now that the grandchildren are visiting, we've renewed the tradition. No, we didn't take the eight-mile Buffalo Trail. We had a lot to do in one day, and the temperature was approaching ninety degrees, so we just hiked a little ways--less than a mile actually, although it included quite a bit of climbing. Since there was a great breeze, it didn't feel as hot as I knew it was.

 That was fine with us, but it sure messed up Mim's posing for the camera. She always had to hold her hair out of her face.

 I liked the look of the swirly clouds and the little trees against the sky here.

 There were plenty of rocks and stumps to clamber over, and the wild flowers were vivid.

 We saw a cosy little bench near the end of the trail, but, since it was not in the shade, it wasn't tempting in the least.

 In the distance--a lake beckoned. Nope, we didn't swim in it, but we did make it back to the creek at the beginning of this article, where two squealing grandchildren scampered around to cool down, chasing fish that were as long as their feet, but swifter.

I realize I'm not keeping up very well. It's a sad fact that I'm not keeping up with everything right now. That's what comes with the last few weeks of school, especially when you're senior sponsor, trying to plan a graduation, make sure all the students get their work in and graduate, plan a senior trip, make a slide show, get caps and gowns to the church, and keep my desk clean. Ha ha. That last one is a joke. Anyway, I plan to write more in a couple of weeks. Here are a few of my exuberant seniors. They're loving this last week. Bless them.

May--Canola and Wheat Pictures

Golden Daybreak

There's a special bonus to getting up early; it's called "Daybreak".
Sometimes it's just called "Awesome".

I took a few pictures on the way to work this morning. I know; they're almost alike, but I had a really hard time deciding which one to cut.

I know the Heavens declare the glory of God. Sometimes quietly, sometimes in a loud and boisterous shout! Today they were singing--fortissimo!

I was listening to my new CD--Handel's Messiah performed by the Cambridge Singers, and the Royal Philharmonic--
'Twas marvelous accompaniment for the show in the skies.

Storms

We say strong faith "moves mountains",
Alters the course of rivers
And sets multitudes ablaze

Yet faith is fragile...like a flame
It must be guarded, if it would grow.
Faith is dependent like a branch
Attached to a vine to be sustained
It cannot yield its fruit alone.

Doubt's tenacious...suffocating.
It thrives in the desert and the dark;
Grows in solitude and sufficiency
Defiant and proudly on its own.
Doubt invades the crumbling conscience,
Of a cynical, spectating crowd
And silently erodes will to won't.

That's because Faith is alive.
Doubt is dead.
And living things take work.
Dead ones don't.






Our Sunday Scribblings Prompt was "Storm".

Wichitas