The new, the old, and the irretrievable

Mage (Postcards) was driving me through Old Town.  San Diego in 2012.

Mage (Postcards) was driving. Old Town. San Diego in 2012.

I may have reached the end of my patience with learning new things.  Seems all my online “connections”,  Word Press, Facebook, Ancestry, etc. have switched to a new format with the new year.

When you’ve been computing as long as I have, over 40 years now, the excitement of something new has lost its luster.  How many times in my lifetime will I see the words “new and improved”?  really?  What if I say I don’t believe you?  Okay if you are young you can laugh, but get back with me in 50 years or so and tell me what you think.


Dad has been ill lately with a bad cold. A typical male who seldom gets sick, he was convinced he was dying.  I did my best to care for him during this period. I knew he was delirious when he told me I was an angel.  Angel is not my style.  He’s better now, except a bit sad he says. This morning I suggested he do something constructive today to start the new year.  He calls me ‘sweetheart’ and says he is going to clean up his computer.  Good, says I because its time to think about taxes.  He laughs and says, I thought you were trying to cheer me up!

David must cover whatever we owe in taxes because I am paying for the brickwork.  Troy won’t be here today so the brickwork is paused.  Meanwhile I suggested to David we always wear ‘street’ shoes outside.  Dust from grinding the old mortar blew everywhere.  I looked out the front door and thought it had snowed. Well, it’s not that bad, but it is dusty.  The yard, the porch, and it came through the door and front window.  This morning, we cleaned the floor and window sills covered with 1/8 inch of very fine grey dust…what a mess.


My daughter called last night to share the news she had genetic testing done and it revealed several markers for inherited tendencies.  None of them surprised me as most have already manifested themselves in my body. Or, I figured out I had a tendency toward something or other.

One of them was the “fat gene” or put another way, the tendency to find losing weight difficult.  I knew I had that one. Being descended from European peasants who survived hunger was a clue. The fat gene insures survival during ‘starving times’.

This does not mean potential fatties cannot lose weight, only that its very difficult for us.  These days Connie has embarked on cleaning up her diet and losing the weight she gained. Granddaughters with this potential should take note.

Grandma lost forty pounds and now I am trying to keep it off.  My doctor wants me to lose 20 more pounds.  I have until May when I go for my annual physical to do this. Fat chance.

The fat gene also manifests as insulin resistance.  I knew that too.  Although I was in the danger zone two years ago, I am in the safe zone today, or was last May before I ate 3,000 Christmas cookies.  Given the passage of time, even losing weight does not eliminate this issue. The end result of insulin resistance… Diabetes….is a horrible disease. There were several other familiar markers too, but perhaps she or I will write more later on this topic.

Meanwhile Kathy called to say she was bringing black eyed peas and cornbread down down for our supper. Brenda is back from New Hampshire this weekend, she got rid of everything in the house after her husband’s death, and is having it completely redecorated. Brother Dunstan will bless the house when the work is completed.

16 thoughts on “The new, the old, and the irretrievable

  1. Goodness! You can test to see if you have a fat gene? That’s amazing. I’ve got tons of holiday cookies in my fridge. They keep calling to me. Art somehow doesn’t hear it.


  2. Congrats on the weight loss. Where do you go to get genetic testing done to reveal markers for inherited tendencies? I read that ancestry. com did that, but then the govt. put a stop to it because … I don’t know if it’s too inaccurate or too scary for some people or what.


  3. Read an article about a tribe in Africa that wandered and gathered rather than stay in one place. The women in this tribe had really large butts it was so that in times of scarce food supplies they could survive off the the fat in their butts and still breastfeed children. I must have descended from this tribe. Only thing is I’m way past the breastfeeding age so I guess I’m just ready for any impending famine.


  4. Here’s to our starving but surviving ancestors! Type 2 diabetes runs straight down my maternal (Scots/Irish) side of the family for several generations. No gene testing to figure that out, all those plump little bellies.


  5. Dear Fat gene friend from a fat gene friend. Yes, back to WW with a vengance. I can still get into most of my clothing, but dear G cannot. All that chocolate….all those cookies. Boy, I gotta forgive myself before I end up like my mother.


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