The Easter Egg Plan

Twenty seven years ago today my mother-in-law and I decided to stop smoking together. She had smoked most of her eighty one years. I had smoked about ten. She died April 1st. And over the course of the next few months, sometimes I envied her. It was the hardest habit I ever had to give up.

The point, though, is that I did give it up. “Your last real vice.” my husband sneered, “Now I suppose you think you’re perfect.“ I had to cut him some slack here. He’d been smoking nearly thirty years and was trying to quit too. I still drink coffee and have an occasional drink, but my real last vice is eating too much.

Until I moved away from Bloomington, I rode my bicycle every day and sometimes twenty, or more, miles on a weekend, but the trails were close and the environment conducive to that. Here the mountains undulate in grades that have the kids gasping for air. I just can’t do it, so I’ve put on weight and that makes everything harder. Plus my time is broken up by watching Lennon and any commitment has always been hard for me, no matter how pleasant it is.

Honestly, I hate the way I look. It makes me want to hide away. And then I seem to be falling apart, one muscle at a time, so it becomes a sort of vicious circle. After receiving an encouraging email from a friend I have decided to try out the Easter Egg plan, (looking for the hidden me and trying to bring her back into sight!)