After my recent posts a friend introduced me to a book called “How to Lose Weight without dieting” by Jessica Robbins. Robbins expands on what I called “thinking slim” and introduces the reader to a number of theories and exercises to retrain the way we think about ourselves, our bodies and our ability to lose (or gain) weight. It hit the mark for me and I’ve now bought my own copy.

What I was most interested in was the idea of pain vs pleasure. Let’s say we start our comfortable with our bodies and then we eat because eating is pleasurable. Then we gain weight and no longer is eating pleasurable because we feel overweight, so we diet until we get back to where we are comfortable (even if it’s not our ideal). It’s at this point that the idea of dieting becomes more painful than the pleasure of our current state and so we stop our diet, are happy for a while until the cycle begins again.

This is totally it for me! Even last year when I wasn’t dieting I reached a place where I felt comfortable and consequently the concept of losing more weight seems like such an effort. In fact so much of an effort the cycle unwittingly starts again.

I’m finding it a fascinating read and feel very empowered to think that a big part of the “battle” can be won in my mind.

Exhausted but

it’s good to be home.

These are just some of the amazing creations my aunt made:

So it might make some sense why I felt such trepidation when it came to making this:

The funeral is happening as this post is being published. I wanted to share here, for my own personal record but also for you, the eulogy I will give today….

Growing up we were always a family of 10: 5 A’s, 3 B’s and 2 Senior C’s!

As my husband has already mentioned, one of the first things he learnt about our family is that we will get together for “The opening of an envelope”. Friends used to think it was odd that we, “the A’s” spent so much time with “the B’s” and that an invitation to a family dinner was an invitation to join “the 10”, not the 5 of us. Some of my friends came to know The B’s so well over the years, that they’ve been sending cards and sharing their memories and grief with me this past week. Some have even joined us here today to celebrate her life.

As a child, and as an adult, Aunty Di was, along with my Uncle, another trusted adult in my world; another source of utterly unconditional love, care and support and my brother and sister and I regard our cousin to be as our fourth sibling. I know Aunty Di considered my daughter, to be as a granddaughter, and she loved her as such.

My siblings reminded me recently of the many pikelet breakfasts we had with Aunty Di. She would let us help make the batter and then would make us pikelets in the shape of our initials. As we’ve talked about Aunty Di over the past week the baking memories have come through strongly, from all sides of the family.

Early last year when my daughter turned 1, I faced the daunting task of making her birthday cake. Again friends didn’t understand why I felt like this was both a very important, and very intimidating task. They didn’t grow up with an aunty who would make whatever amazing creation was requested and who consequently spent a good portion of the year thinking about which cake they’d like for next year!! I remember year choosing something quite elaborate. I can’t remember what it was but I remember looking up at her as she said “That’s very elaborate sweetie.” That of course, meant nothing to me and I so went on my merry way. It’s only now, as an adult (and having now made a couple of these cakes myself) that I realise that “it’s very elaborate sweetie” was code for “this is going to take a really long time and are you sure you don’t want something else?”. But, she made that cake for me, lovingly and gladly as was her nature, and the nature of her love.

I must admit that this past week has not seemed at all real. I can hear her, “Hi Sweetie”, “Hi Beautiful” and whether my eyes are open or shut my memory of her, the healthy her, is as real as if she were about to walk into the room at any moment. I am so thankful that she knew how dearly she was loved by us kids, and us by her. There are very few people in the world who will love you unconditionally. To stand here and know that she did, means more than I will ever be able to say.

Aunty Di’s influence has impacted spheres of my life that I didn’t even realise until this week, down to the way I speak to my own daughter. I grew up with Aunty Di and Ma calling my sister and I their “beautiful girls” and “precious girls” and only this past week have I realised why those phrases slip so easily off my tongue when I speak to my own daughter.

I promised her, a few days before she passed, that my little girl would know all about her great-aunt. It’s a promise that will be easy to keep as Aunty Di was so much a part of my life that I wouldn’t want anything but for that to continue, through the sharing of memories, stories and love.

Do you have a “veto” arrangement in your house? We do, sort of. It’s kind of arbitrary and mostly falls into the HH’s favour because I am soft and he is a designer.

We’ve just (finally!) set up our spare room/study and soon it will be furnished with a desk made by the HH for yours truly.

We need to finish it off with a few nice touches. Including a lamp…or two. And a single seat.

I like this one…(not in that colour though. Probably in black, or red….or maybe in the green)

The HH likes this one…

Apart from the fact that my lamp is $100+ cheaper than the HH’s one. I like it. I also think it’s got a wider appeal and as it’s for the guest room and my study I think I should get the power of veto. Apparantly this is a view not shared…

We’ll see :)

Who gets the veto in your home?