Old Pastry Chefs Never Die, They Just Make Less Dough

Blahg.

I guess what's kept me from blogging all this time is that I've waited for things to get better before I post. You know, happy blogging. Nobody wants to read about the latest whine-du-jour. But frankly, things have basically sucked since my last post and have gotten suckier. So it's either post something whiny or post nothing at all. 

Ready for the whine fest?

On a positive note, I did lose 25 lbs after joining the gym. My problem now, is that I haven't been to the gym in 2 months and I can't seem to make myself go because I'm so depressed. Remember that word, "depressed" because that's my whole problem in a nutshell. I know exercise elevates one's mood, and I've experienced it, but I just can't seem to break a sweat to be happy. I just want to curl up in a ball and stay in bed all day, getting up is such a chore. Like the rest of my life. A big fat freakin' chore.

I'm still traveling back and forth between Port Townsend and Redmond to take care of my mom. I've been doing this, what, 3 years now? I can't believe it. I'm only home in Port Townsend on the weekends, and I feel like I don't live in any one particular place. Picking up and switching residences every 3-4 days is disconcerting and difficult. I have not just one house but two houses to keep up the chores and finances in and I'm tired, tired, tired. 

Mom is doing well physically, but her memory problems are a little worse. She doesn't pick up after herself very well (she waits for me to get there to do it), and she lies to me about what she's doing on the weekends when I'm not there. I know she lies in bed all day, but she tells me she's up and watching TV when we talk on the phone. I wish. Instead, she stays in bed and forgets to take her medicine. Oh, she would do SO MUCH BETTER in assisted living, but she doesn't want to move out of her house. The question is, when do I say, "Mom, I know you don't want to, but you're going into assisted living and that's it." When do you take their independence away? I think the time is now, but it's so hard to just go and make that decision against her will.

Taking care of mom entails cleaning up after, and feeding her, and making sure she takes her medicine. I fill up a month's worth of medisets, each day box having a morning, noon, night, and bedtime compartment. She's pretty good about remembering to take her medicine, but like I say, on the days I'm not there, she'll just sleep all day, and miss her doses. This hasn't seemed to affect her health negatively in any way but it still drives me nuts. So when I'm not taking care of her in Redmond,  at home I spend all my time worrying about her. So it's like 24/7 mom, mom, mom.

Over Christmas, my brother and I shipped her off to his house in Minnesota so I could have a break. It was a great break, but the three weeks slipped by so fast. I could use another break. In general, I need a big break. Something that will change this circumstance of mom care. I can't stand to think I'll be doing this another year, or two years or three, or 10.......aaaaaaaaahhhhhh! I wouldn't make it. I'd crumble. I think I'm crumbling now.

Then at home.......well, that's another story. It used to be a place of respite from Mom, but now it's just a place chock full of it's own problems, so I'm never away from some sort of drama. As I write this, I realize, hells yeah, I know why I'm depressed! No big mystery. I'm living in a vortex of misery. No amount of prescriptions can medicate it away. I feel very overwhelmed and trapped at the same time. It's hell. I feel for any person who has to take care of a parent. I know I'm not the only one. 

I'm also angry at my mom for putting me through this. She had always said she "didn't want to interfere with my life", but here she is doing just that by being so stubborn and not going into assisted living like a reasonable person. Is it too much to ask her to be reasonable? Yes. She's so out of it, she doesn't realize there's people's lives outside of her own. I'm missing so much time with my husband, and that's something I'll never get back.

I want my life back.

Next chapter, professional counseling. I can't seem to break out of this rut I'm in or make a change in my surroundings. I need to deal with certain people better. I need to be happy or somewhat content. I'll take anything that's better than this.

Hopefully, my next post will be sooner and happier! 

Old Pastry Chefs Never Die, They Just Get Less Doughy.

 

 

 

Hi Kids! Long time no bloggy. It's because everything's been the same old, same old........stay with Mom Tuesday through Fridays in Redmond, and back to Port Townsend for the weekends. My life, in short, is in a huge rut. 

I'm in a rut spiritually, physically, and emotionally. The spiritual and emotional I can't do much about, but I can bring about change physically. So I figured, I'm at Mom's 4 days a week anyway, why not join a gym? I needed to face the fact that I'm so out of shape I can't even keep up with my 62 year old husband, and I'm 48! I have some poundage on him too. Not much, but enough to be embarrassed about. For crying out loud, you shouldn't outweigh your husband, unless he's a dwarf or something. 

So I took the big step and joined 24 Hour Fitness. Hey, it's open 24 hours and it never rains in there, so it takes away two big excuses that I  had not to exercise. Time and crummy weather, which here in the good ol' PNW is abundant. The crummy weather that is. So far it's been a cold miserable Spring, and I just don't like walking in inclement weather. It's only 30 bucks a month to belong to the gym, so there's another excuse taken away. That's a pretty good deal, which I can afford. 

Made the appointment to talk to the membership counselor, and signed on. I even went the extra step to hire a personal trainer, because when it comes to all things fitness, I'm a moron. I've never been fit in my life, and dammit, I want to be before I turn 50 in 2012. Hopefully the world won't end then. According to the Mayan calendar, as soon as I become fit, the world will end. Luckily I don't believe in the Mayan calendar crap. When I become fit, hell may freeze over but the world won't end.

Do you think a year is enough time for me to become fit and slender? I do. At least I'm realistic. I've been at this daily exercise thing since March 23rd, and I've lost close to 6 lbs already, which isn't too bad. I need to lose about 60 more lbs. It's going to be a haul, but I've decided to do it. Why am I following through this time?

Because I've been around too many sickly old people lately. Because I outweigh my husband. Because I want some energy, and to feel stronger. Because I'm sick of feeling fat. Because I'm sick of mail ordering my clothes from Lane Bryant. Sick sick sick. Lane Bryant clothes are ugly, because they're made to hide folds of fat. Might as well shop at the local tent and awning company really. I want to buy clothes off the rack again.....go to REGULAR (ie. cheap) stores like Target and Wal Mart and just pick anything out that's on sale. Size 1X is for the birds!

I've learned something. When you're out of shape like I am, starting a physical fitness program is HARD. Especially when you have a personal trainer pushing you. The first couple, well, no, make that all the sessions I have with him are intense, and they make me sweat like the late James Brown. 

He has me do squats, in three sets of 30, and I can barely finish them. He wants me to be able to do 20 minutes of hard cardio on the elliptical machine or the stair stepper or the treadmill, still which I cannot do. I can manage 10 minutes on the elliptical and then my legs give out. My goal is to work up to 20 minutes but I can't do it right now. What I can do is a good 35 minutes on the treadmill, and another 30 minutes on the exercise bike, which equals about an hour of medium to upper cardio for me (according to my heart rate). 

Marcus, my trainer, is a good guy, although he's mean to me. He makes me do stuff I don't think I can do. But I'm not one to say "I can't", I'm more one to say, "I will" or "I'll try". And I do. Marcus is young and cute (not to mention fit), and I'm not about to wimp out on such a young 'un. I've still got enough ego in these folds of fat to push my own limits. Geez, I remember when I was running and jumping around as a kid, with no effort at all, and now I have to re-learn the effortlessness again. I want to be able to run a reasonable distance without collapsing on the ground, clutching my chest.....is that too much to ask?

Of course Marcus had to laugh when he found out my trade was Pastry Chef. I'm his biggest challenge. And he's making ground meat outta me. He makes me write down all the food I eat in a journal and he checks it. At first he was disgusted with my eating habits, like half and half in my coffee, and bread all over the place. He scowled as he looked over my journal the first time, grumbling "this is crap, this is crap and this is crap." Well, duh, how do you get to my condition if you don't constantly eat crap?

So my eating crap is definitely on hold. No bread, no rice, no corn, no potatoes, no sugar, no pasta. More fruits and veg, fiber and protein. It's been hard, since I'm not much of a meat eater. Not that I dislike meat, I just dislike preparing it. I'm bad with meat.........I either undercook it or overcook it, and either one is just plain yukky, so I stick with what I know, fruits and veg. They're easy to eat, cook, and or prepare. I'm bad with fish too. REALLY bad. I've got a freezer full of fish out in the garage, but I'm so scared I'll screw it up, I don't cook it. I know I should eat more fish. Did I mention chicken? I can actually DO chicken, but dammit it has to be skinless. I love chicken skin! But it's pure fat. Sigh. 

In my journal, I had written down that I ate an innocent hard boiled egg. And Marcus says, "did you eat the yolk?" and I said, "Well of COURSE!" and he says, "after all that work, you want to put a ball of yellow fat in your body? That's all it is is cholesterol and fat. You don't want that do you?" And I'm like "well no". But inside I'm thinkin', "who eats a hard boiled egg white?" Apparently a lot of people that don't include me. So scratch hard boiled eggs for me. Without the yolk, they're tasteless little orbs of tastelessness. And secretly, yes, I DO want to put a little yellow ball of fat inside my gut. It's yummy.

I thought I'd be more self conscious working out at a gym. But it turns out there's people there of all sizes. True, most of them are fit, but there's balls of flab there just like me, and some are worse off than me. And most people are there just concentrating on their workouts, not trolling for dates, or flexing muscles for the sake of flexing muscles. There ARE mirrors everywhere, so you can't avoid looking at your bod when you're working out. There must be some psychological reason for this, and right now, I don't appreciate looking at my flab as I struggle on a weight machine or exercise ball. But those mirrors do keep you grounded, and say to me, "see why you're here?" Oh yeah. 

This blog entry is about pastry, as in, too much of it can lead you down my path. I haven't baked in months and I miss it. I won't be baking for several more months either. Would be too much of a slippery slope. I  remember the days when I worked in pastry and people would say "how do you stay so thin?" When they stopped asking me, I knew I wasn't skinny anymore. And that was a long time ago.

So here I go, starting on my quest to be fit, not fat. Strong, not weak, Smokin' hot, not some dumpy housewife. Marcus kicks my ass. And if I pay him more money, he'll keep kicking my ass. And soon, I'll kick my own ass. 

6 lbs down, 64 to go.

 

 

The Abandoned Blog

I haven't totally abandoned this blog. It's just there isn't much pastry going on in my life right now, and this blog is supposed to be about all things pastry plus extra bonuses, like how great my life is. Ha. 

Actually I did get to do a little pastry work at The Famous Northwest Catering Co. in the Madison Park area of Seattle over the Christmas holidays. I got to reprise my role of working with the famous, ass-kicking Jewlz, who in her words calls herself "chumpy". If being a great pastry chef who cranks out delicious and numerous goodies on a  seemingly effortless basis is "chumpy", then I'm less than chumpy. I aspire to be chumpy. 

It was fun to work with Jewlz, and not have to sit around with Mom all day. No offense Mom, but you're not the most exciting company in the world these days. More on that later.

Christmas for the catering co. was very very busy, and Jewlz' regular assistant chose that particular time to go to China for two weeks. What I did was travel into the city on Tuesdays like usual to stay with Mom, I worked with Jewlz on Wednesdays and Thursdays, then went back to Port Townsend on Friday. I did this for two weeks. Like I said it was fun, and good to get my hands back in the dough again. I felt far more useful doing that, than watching my Mom just veg her life away. 

I made dozens of mini tart shells, cookie doughs, macaroons, batters, tea breads, etc. What I found interesting was the "if you don't use it" you lose it syndrome. Things didn't come to me as easily as they used to, and I was extra careful not to make a mistake, so I worked a bit slower than I usually do, but I did pretty well for a kitchen I wasn't used to. That kitchen was definitely stuffed to the rafters with ingredients, dishes, baskets, equipment, etc. Things were behind things that were behind things that were behind things. The walk in refrigerator was the fullest walk in I'd ever seen, and when I first went in there, I thought I'd never find what I was looking for. Eventually I stopped being overwhelmed by it, and just dug around for stuff like everybody else did. I was amazed that such a relatively small space could crank out so much food. I've worked in larger spaces that didn't do nearly the production. 

I don't have nearly the self-confidence in a kitchen as I used to. Kitchens used to be my "comfortable place", now they're my "nervous place". I think getting back to work is the only way I'll get my mojo back. 

To be blunt, my life sucks right now. I've been caring for my mom for over 2 years, and it's kinda taken it's toll on me. The traveling back and forth, 2 hours each way, not including the ferry ride, the cost in gas and ferry fare, the time lost at home, missing my husband, not being able to work, being responsible for mom's well-being and her household chores as well as mine at home....well, it's just too much. Things have to change. 

I've called my brother in to help me with the task of convincing Mom that she needs to go into assisted living. This will not be easy. Mom is adamant about staying in her own house, but the fact is, the only way she's able to do that is because of what I'm doing. I can't continue it anymore, so we have to come up with alternative solutions. She has to stay near Group Health territory, since that is her health care provider, so having her come live with us is out of the question. Besides, none of us would be happy with that. Mom needs more socialization, not isolation, as is the situation now. When I'm not at her house on the weekends, she is totally alone, and does nothing but sit on the couch and watch TV in her pajamas. She barely eats, and doesn't take care of herself very well. Surely, there has to be a better life for her than that. I can't provide her with 24/7 care and activities, which is what she really needs, and assisted living seems to be the only solution that I can come up with. My brother and I need to do an "intervention" of sorts. I'm really glad he's coming out to help me with this, because I've been slowly going crazy for a while now.

He'll be out after the middle of February and it can't come soon enough. Hopefully things will be looking different and better soon. 

We now resume our regularly scheduled suckage.

 

Old dogs and new tricks.

Well, due to the poor economy I guess, the host of my blog, Vox, is closing at the end of September, so I've had to move my blog over to this Typepad thingy. It's a major pain in the ass to learn and I'm cranky about it. Why can't things just stay the same? 

I've always wondered why old people seemed cranky. Now I think I know. It's change! I've mastered setting the clock on my VCR so it doesn't flash 12:00 all the time, but who needs a VCR? I need a Blu Ray and a plasma TV but can't afford those and that also makes me cranky. 

I do have a new computer and cell phone though. If it weren't for iPhone 4 fever, which my husband and I caught, we wouldn't have upgraded at all. We were one of the first in line for the iPhone 4 on launch day, and we were so happy with our purchases......until we found out our phones were not compatible with our "old" computers. Now I don't know if it's just 'cause I'm old and crabby, or what, but I don't think 10 years is old. To me, OLD, for an object, is like 30 years. My parent's dishwasher lasted 30 years. That's how long things should last.......til you can afford a new object. I didn't think my 10  year old computer was "old". It was working just fine for me! But I guess 10 was bordering on obsolete for Apple. 

So, in order for us to sync our phones to our computers (and you have to be able to do that, especially with an iPhone), we had to get new computers. Yay. Sort of. I was really attached to my old "basketball iMac".....it had so much character. Now I have a new iMac and it's speedy and cool, but nowhere as cool looking as my basketball. I haven't yet parted with it......it's on my back desk, just in case I need it or just want to look at it. Soon though, it will make the trip over to my Mom's to replace her computer which is an iMac G3, which is WAY old.......so old in fact, that you can't even give the things away. I absolutely HATE our "disposable" way of life these days. The world is a big oil slicked garbage heap.

On the subject of dishwashers, we had to replace our "old" dishwasher this summer also. It was just over 10 years old too. Why can't they make things like they used to? I'm sure this new dishwasher we bought will bite the dust even sooner than our "old" one did. I can tell. It just "feels" cheap and flimsy. 

So if you wonder why old people are cranky it's because nobody makes quality stuff anymore (well, maybe except Apple), and we don't like change. Change just means we have to learn something. I'm too cranky to learn anything new and learning new things makes me cranky. It's a vicious circle.

Sorry about the small font. As far as I can tell, there's nothing I can do about it, except get out my reading glasses.

Now you kids get off of my lawn.