Failure When Deserving Success; Harvest Pictures

I don't know about where you are, but it's getting mighty frosty up here!

Thankfully, the last three days have been gloriously sunny--clear skies, cold nights. Our garden beds are starting to look forlorn: we're glad that we (especially Phil) spent a lot of time last week pulling things out of the ground (more harvest pics in a minute).

First, I want to talk about the painful poignancy of experiencing failure when you absolutely know that you have done everything possible to ensure--to deserve--success. (Of course, slapping on the label of 'failure' is adding to the pain, but I'll get to that in a moment.)

It's normal to expect to build muscle if you exercise consistently. It's normal to expect to achieve some success and recognition if you work countless hours on a project designed to benefit other people. It's normal to expect that if you spend lots of energy digging and hauling, bringing natural fertilizers to your garden, you will grow better and more nutritious vegetables. But sometimes, the fertilizer you bring in has weed seeds in it, or contains more nitrogen than the plants need to thrive. Or, you spend countless hours and pour your talent into your writing, but cannot get your book (or even a few poems) published (yes, failure where success is deserved is a big part of being a writer).

Or, you exercise consistently, vigorously, for many months; you never ever eat junk, or overeat, or do any other counterproductive thing, and after all that time you see virtually no change in your body composition. That's me. Phil was an athletic coach for many years, and while he's constantly careful to insist that he loves how my body is, he too is expressing surprise that no change has happened with all the work I've been doing: he knows how badly I want it.

In the bigger scheme of things, being of service to other people and getting my writing out there are both far more important than my body composition goals. But the body stuff is so near and direct that I tend to think, "If I can't succeed in this, how could I possibly succeed in anything else?" So this very personal sense of failure can infect everything else.

I've been patient! I've set reasonable goals! I've done the work! I've formulated and repeated affirmations, I've visualized the goal achieved! And all for nothing, or nothing but some improvements in general strength and stamina.

But this isn't a rant or a pity party. I meant what I said in my post about purpose and audience, that really, the only way to make this kind of issue meaningful is to look for what I can say or do toward the positive about it; what I can learn that I can share with others.

So, we know my endocrine system is messed up. In fact, it bears remembering that until about eight months ago, I couldn't exercise at all--so, from a different perspective, there is some success here. When I see my ND this week, I'm going to ask very specific questions about the whole body composition situation related to endocrine problems, and how I can remedy it; and will share here.  I will open myself to the possibility that cutting out fat has contributed to my problems and will find out 'how much of it' I should add in (acknowledging that my recent efforts to include it have been somewhat minimal), and will share ideas on here for how to incorporate that in preparing food.

The feedback from Phil, who is an experienced coach, is a preventative against slipping into self-flagellation. With his observations, I can't justify calling myself fat and lazy, although that's definitely a reflex response to this kind of frustration.

I will acknowledge that patience, persistence, affirmations and visualizations have worked and do work for many people: that maybe I simply need to be more patient, more persistent. That rejecting the affirmations and visualizations may have contributed to my sense of despair: starting them up again may engender more peace around the issue. And I may also need to look at underlying negative voices that undercut the affirmations. I will be unbearably honest with myself and share on here whatever I think might be helpful.

One more thing: I haven't submitted a piece of my writing anywhere for many months. Submitting work for publication, receiving multiple rejections, sending them out again, is an important part of being a writer that I have been neglecting, partly for the simple reason that I'm afraid of the sense of failure. But I can use this experience with my own body to remind myself that in fact, I am very used to dealing with failure. And maybe, as William Stafford would say, I can continue to strive to fail better.

Thank you for letting me share this: I feel that transforming feelings of despair into something more positive and constructive for the purposes of the blog is helping me to feel and be better about it away from the computer screen as well.

Now for some harvest pictures.
I keep finding more and more monstrous rutabagas. I think this one may be bigger than my head!

 Here's another shot of it--big and multifaceted.

And oh, we have spuds! I'm so grateful to Phil for getting them dug before everything freezes, although I'll miss my routine of the last month or so, of going out to the garden when preparing a meal and simply pulling as many as I wanted out of the ground.

 We washed them in our water catchment, let them dry in the sun, and sorted through them, setting aside any that were cracked by too much nitrogen (from kelp), or bored by worms, or gnawed by rodents. Those should be eaten first--they won't keep as well.

We have some huge ones and some delicate little ones. Guessing maybe 150lbs of potatoes all told.

Do you have experience of working for many months toward a goal and not achieving it nor making progress toward it? What has helped you to live with that?

Taking The Breakfast Challenge

When Vega invited me to participate in their Breakfast Challenge, I was intrigued.

I'm a person of cycles and wild variations: a couple months ago, this was my standard breakfast:

Lately, as I mentioned in my turmeric post, this porridge has been my breakfast...

...with some extra fruit on the side (this plate gets shared with Phil, for whom I make an entirely different breakfast).

And not so long ago, my standard breakfast was a very green, herbal smoothie with frozen peas or beans and no fruit whatsoever!

My breakfast changes from one thing to the other depending on what I think is easy/cheap/convenient/healthiest at any given time--from the outside, this probably looks like mere whimsy. And I was intrigued by this opportunity because I haven't ever measured macronutrient ratios in these different breakfasts. In an effort to distance myself from the days when I couldn't put a piece of food in my mouth without having weighed it and counted exact calories, I've tended to avoid paying careful attention to quantities and ratios. My ND encourages me not to count calories, but also encourages me to eat more fat and protein, which I constantly seem to resist. Somehow, having numbers on it may bring some clarity.

So, I've spent some time wrassling with Fitday and also, thanks to Vega, tried out a couple of the delicious breakfast smoothie recipes they offer in this free booklet.

I made their pear-ginger smoothie (I used coconut cream powder instead of nut milk as I didn't have any)...

 And I made their chocolate almond smoothie, using the full two tablespoons of almond butter, despite my current omega-6 phobia--I split this one with Phil so that I wouldn't get too wired from the cacao (and wouldn't get too much omega-6)!

Pear-ginger, chocolate-almond--they speak for themselves, don't they--delicious. Phil (who's skeptical of smoothies) loved the chocolate almond.

Fitday took some work--I'll probably have to get all obsessive about it and use it all the time, just to make it worthwhile!
Here's what it had to say about my porridge, made with amaranth, a tiny amount of flax meal and lecithin, a little pea protein powder, a banana, a small sprinkling of gojis and raisins, and of wild Alaskan blueberries:

308 Calories. 6.5g Fat (18%), 52.7g Carbs (65%), 14.5g Protein (18%)

This seems quite good, although I imagine my ND would say it's not enough fat. With the extra melon and orange slices on the side, the percentage of carbs would go even higher with the other two macros going down.

And here's what it had to say about the pear ginger smoothie:

410 calories. 13.6g Fat (15%), 59.4g Carbs (66%), 16.8g Protein (19%).
They're actually fairly similar on the macronutrient level, although I was surprised that the smoothie came out lower in fat as a percentage, since I used a full serving of coconut milk powder and didn't skimp it like I usually do!

In terms of standard recommendations, both these breakfasts look pretty ideal--and far better balanced than that hunk of watermelon, that's for sure! In terms of what my ND wants me to eat, probably more fat and less carb would be 'ideal.' The Vega protein powders are low in carb in themselves, so the overall carb content will depend on what's added to them. I can imagine some wonderful smoothies based on Vega powders with some berries and some avocado--stay tuned for these.

And what I shouldn't forget to mention is that Vega's protein powders carry fully 50% or more of the RDAs of all the vital macronutrients--it's like taking a supplement as well as the food. Getting a good dose of protein together with all the important micronutrients is a great start to a clear-headed day.

Thank you so much, Vega--now, with a good breakfast under my belt, I should get out and enjoy what might be one of our last warm-sunny days of the year.

What did you have for breakfast?

An Amazing Movie, Raw Gingerbread Success, and That Salad

Friday already?! I hope it's been a good week for you. Yesterday, we did get to see Cave of Forgotten Dreams, as I'd mentioned I was hoping to.

 It turns out that this was also the first time Phil and I ever went to a movie together just the two of us! I wish I'd taken a picture of Phil's giant bowl of popcorn, but anyone who knows Phil can picture it and probably the rest of you have an idea by now, too!

This was an unusual and amazing movie. Not just because of the film crew's exclusive access to a 32,000-year-old cave with animal paintings of astonishing dynamism and beauty. Not just because the sensitive circumstances of the cave meant that the film crew was restricted to four people and to a two-foot wide walkway in the cave, disallowing particular angles of approach or even the tidy hiding away of other crew members. Not just because of the insistent music (choir, small orchestra, cello obligato)--although the shrill dissonance of the choir right at the beginning almost made me run outside...

I was also struck by the fact that throughout the movie, we heard only one native English speaker, an American professor based at the University of Tuebingen. Otherwise, there was Herzog's gentle German accent and a couple other Germans, and mostly French people, all speaking English (or speaking French with simultaneous translation into English in a French accent). How many other languages would you find spoken mutually by second-language-learners like this? It was humbling.

The cave pictures themselves were more accomplished and beautiful than I had anticipated, with lifelike depictions of extinct animals and possibly, an allusion to the 'Europa and the Bull' story 20,000 years before the dawn of Ancient Greek mythology! And yes, I do think the 3D presentation enhanced the sense of their perspective and placement. I appreciated the discussion of the usefulness of paintings to communicate with the future (though alas, I can't draw or paint!) and of the permeability between material and spiritual world and fluidity of physical entity that appears to underlie some of what was there (what Phil would call "the woo-woo stuff").

There was even some humor--a bizarre musical performance on a vulture-bone flute by a German paleontologist and a spear-throwing demonstration by the French Einstein-lookalike anthropologist. The very bizarre postscript to the movie was maybe 'a bit much,' especially as the film is slow-moving, but I admire the artistic sense overall.
And yes, our first 3D movie experience--of course, I was always peeking over top of the glasses to see how different it was without them, and it really was an enhancement.

So, if you haven't seen it, and are at all interested in ancient cultures and artworks, or in interesting foreign accents, or in amazing 3D effects, I would urge you to go!

OK--this post has gotten long already! Let me wrap up briefly by sharing that my second time making Raw Gingerbread was much more successful.

 Here's what I did different:
I used sorghum flour and a bit of maca instead of the 2c almond flour.
I also added 1/4 cup irish moss gel and a tablespoon of molasses to the 'wet ingredients,' and upped the coconut oil to 3 tablespoons, since the overall fat content took a hit with the replacement of almond with sorghum flour.
I also mixed it by hand instead of in the food processor, although I did Vitamix the wet ingredients (first the sweeteners, then the nut milk and oil), since I already had the pitcher dirty from making irish moss gel! I enjoy using plain old elbow grease and was pleased with how well it came together (and that I got to break a sweat instead of using electricity)!

 And I dehydrated it for a little less time.
This time--moist, melt-in-the-mouth, deliciously spicy and not heavy!

Finally, I promised the recipe for this salad.

You need:
2 cups cooked great northern beans
2 cups cooked wild rice
1 large carrot, finely chopped
2 tomatoes, chopped
1/4 avocado, chopped small
3 chard leaves, finely chopped
1/4 cup chives, finely chopped
1 tsp fresh thyme, finely minced

Mix together all except the chard and chives.
Pour boiling water over the chard and chives to wilt them, then strain, put in the freezer for five minutes to cool, and add to the rest. (If you prefer a stronger 'onion' flavor, leave the chives raw.)

For the dressing:
1 tb coconut nectar
2 tb lemon juice
2 tb olive oil
2 tb apple cider vinegar
1tsp turmeric
1 tb miso mixed with 1/4 cup water
Whisk all these together and mix into the salad.

The softness of the beans dances well with the chewiness of the wild rice; the avocado and tomato marry beautifully as always, with the special note of the thyme in there. The carrot pieces give a nice crunch and the greens are delicious without harshness.

As it stands, this is a mild salad: I enjoyed it with some salsa added. If bell peppers didn't make me sick, I'm sure they'd be great in there--as would some stronger spices. Play around and enjoy!

Have a great weekend! I'll be back tomorrow with some breakfast talk.
Have you seen Cave of Forgotten Dreams? Or would you like to?

Golden Color and Spice for "Gladdening"--the New Cacao?

It seems deliciously ironic to be writing a post about things that are soothing and calming, since I've just spent close to an hour trying to open the page on which to write this post, had the pictures 'disappear' five different times, browser crash twice, rebooted the modem, and now I'm not even sure I have time to write before I have to go out...

Deep breath, then--and I've really been looking forward to sharing these thoughts about golden colors and a golden spice. First, though: thanks for all the good suggestions about the raw gingerbread: I tried it again today with some tweaks and I think it's much better--we'll see if my testers agree and I'll report back.

At our poetry group last week, our gracious hostess served "golden milk:" warm milk (almond milk, in this case) mixed with turmeric paste and sweetened. It's been a while since I've had what used to be a great comfort for me, and it was such a lovely surprise. I felt warmed, welcomed, and somehow accepted, met: I hadn't expected to see a drink like this anywhere but in my own home. Our hostess' home is a Rivendell of a gorgeous woodsy retreat and we sat at the windows watching sun turn to rain and back, sipped from beautiful little cups, talked poetry. It was easy to remember to feel grateful.
Of course I had to make my own...

I used coconut milk and added some cardamom to mine. I followed our gracious hostess' advice and made a turmeric paste first: mix together two parts water to one part turmeric (e.g. a half cup water and a quarter cup turmeric) and simmer to a paste on the stove.

It's so beautiful, and I've been putting it in everything, from the soothing 'milk,' to my breakfast porridge (amaranth and millet with a little flax and lecithin, with raisins, gojis, mulberries)...

...and a banana and some wild blueberries...

...not really golden anymore once it's allmixedtogether!

Still that lovely, golden taste, though, even if it looks like a child's painting. 

I think it's just as good in sweeter things as in savory. On the savory side, I used a little in the dressing for this beautiful wild rice and bean salad (recipe coming soon).

Especially this Fall season, it feels good, now that I've been reminded, to get turmeric in everywhere I can. No, it's not cacao, but it is as versatile and has a comparable number of widely touted benefits-- without the overstimulative/addictive/other adverse effects. Perhaps I'm overstating to compare it to cacao (I can see a few people rolling their eyes) but seriously, take a look at all of turmeric's known benefits, and step beyond the curry bubble! Expect more from me on this.

It's not just the taste and all the beneficial nutritional/medicinal properties that endear turmeric, though: it's the color! The 17th century herbalist Nicholas Culpeper (great name for an herbalist!) recommended marigold (calendula) partly because "it gladdens the heart" with its bright orange-golden blooms. In homeopathic medicine, aurum, i.e. gold, is frequently prescribed for people suffering depression or a sense of dislocation.

I found myself seeking out the color beyond the spice.

The fruit plate that I put with our breakfasts has been canteloupe and orange lately--nicely golden...

...And of course, at this time of year (although not for much longer), all we have to do is look outside! I've shared some pictures already of our Fall glory, but these larches (aka tamaracks) are particularly special: they're the only conifer that is also deciduous. We're enjoying them until a windstorm blows everything off, as happened this time last year surprisingly early.

I also enjoy this bandana--a nice accent with all the black I tend to wear, a good reminder to take that golden color into my eyes and have them be 'gladdened.'

Have you had 'golden milk' before? Do you (think you would) like it?

Some Recent Culinary Adventures--Carob Brownies, Gingerbread Two Ways

I promised a food post for today, and here it is! It's been well over a month since my last "Food as Pleasure" post, in the series of challenges where I set myself to make a 'goodie' without 'healthifying' it except inasfar as to remove allergens so that it's not poison to me.

With Amaranth goodies and Banana Bread, we were going nicely in alphabetical order.

And so, did I stop at "C," because "C" surely has to involve chocolate and I have come to the conclusion that I really do need to steer clear of chocolate except for very rare occasions?

Well, I guess something along those lines did happen. I've been kind of indisposed, too, which has made 'food as pleasure' a tougher concept to grasp. That said, here are a few things I've tried recently--the first two I would describe as only moderately successful; the third is a make-again.

Carob Brownies
As much as I hate the conflation of carob with chocolate, because it does such a disservice to carob (which is an entirely different and distinctly delicious (also super-nutritious) kind of food), I have been finding myself drawn to the idea of playing with carob more as a way to fill the chocolate gap. Not that I was eating any chocolate anyway--but I've done precious little playing with carob yet either, so maybe talking about it here will inspire me.

The recipe for these carob brownies came from this website.

 The only changes I made were to use gluten free flour and xanthan gum, and to omit the walnuts (I hate nuts in baking) and the coffee substitute (which I didn't have or care for).  Oh, and I used coconut syrup instead of rice syrup because it's what I had.

I was a little suspicious of the recipe just from looking at it: it struck me as potentially heavy and dry. And then I was out working in the garden, so it went for the full 30 minutes without my checking it a little earlier.

Yes, it was dry and dense--not much of a crumb to it, not very tasty generally. Not a success.

Gingerbread
Perhaps it was the quest for 'dense and moist' coupled with a dark color; perhaps it was my love of spice, but my next experiment was with gingerbread. I've actually made gingerbread using carob in the flour mix once--maybe I should try that again.

I used this recipe from Vegetarian Times and followed it precisely except that I made it gluten free. I used fresh-ground amaranth flour and tapioca starch with xanthan gum.

I loved the idea of lemon zest as a seasoning in this, but was suspicious with this recipe too: a whole cup of molasses seemed like an awful lot for two and a half cups of flour!

And as you can see, it was super-moist: the sort of gingerbread that leaves a sticky residue on your fingers (and everything else with which it comes into contact)! Which is a good thing, in some ways. It did taste great, but the molasses was a little overpowering (and I love molasses). It also didn't feel that great inside me--sugar shock, maybe?

I'd like to try this again with less molasses and perhaps some applesauce to displace it and some of the shortening.

Raw Gingerbread
Staying on the ginger theme, I had a desire to make raw ginger snaps in the dehydrator but ended up caught by the recipe for Gingerbread in Matthew Kenney's Everyday Raw Desserts.  Lisa generously shared this recipe on her blog about a year ago, if you don't have the book. I went with her suggestion of doubling the amount of grated ginger.

I was intrigued to see how a gingerbread would be with no molasses and using fresh-grated ginger instead of powdered dried ginger.

I used goji berries instead of raisins just because, and teff flour instead of almond flour because I didn't have any.

 Our work-in-progress kitchen...

 Pretty with the lemon glaze (which I almost didn't make but am glad I did)...

 I thought they looked lovely when they had dehydrated a few hours.

They were a little dense and dry, almost more like biscotti than bread. This was my first experiment making 'raw cake' in this style, and I probably have some things to learn in order to perfect the texture.

Verdict? I shared these with some friends and, to judge by their muted reactions (and in one case, frequent reapplications of whipped cream), they were distinctly underwhelmed. But 'my crowd' up here is about the most resistant to this kind of food of any that I've seen anywhere (and we had just had a big meal). On the other hand, I really liked them! They are dense without being overpowering, and the spiciness is great for me (maybe too much for some). They are really not very sweet, either.

I would like to try them again, with a little more moisture and maybe some molasses in there, and a shorter dehydration time (these had about six hours).

One of the fun parts of 'unbaking' is that you end up with leftover ingredients--like date paste

 and lemon glaze.

 What should I do with all that? Make some more gingerbread for starters, I guess!

Do you hate carob because of its unfortunate association with chocolate?

What Fall Brings and Documentary Film Festival

Happy Sunday, Happy October! See the snow coming farther and farther down the mountains?

 Yes, Fall, for sure. Perhaps it's the chillier mornings and colder ambient temperature, but when I poured the hot water into my tea jar yesterday morning, it cracked! Amazingly, I managed to get it over the sink before the bottom fell right out--hot water and glass contained successfully.

It didn't feel like a success at the time, though--I was already running frantic, frustrated by a late start to the morning after getting home late Friday night. Oh, and it looks awful in the sink, but really, it's just powdered rhodiola root (supports adrenals) and a bunch of liver-supporting herbs.

Definitely an occasion for my 'security duster!'

Being fall means that the layers are creeping on: I'm already wearing an extra layer on top and am postponing the additional encumbrance of long-johns as late as I can, but truth be told, I'm going to need them soon. And for the next nine months...

Fall also means spending time near the 'sad light.'

 We've had this out since August, but as the mornings get darker it begins to feel more and more significant..

Fall also means that my days of biking are numbered for this year, and even the rowing machine is starting to become less appealing. It takes longer to work up a warming sweat when the outside temperature is close to freezing and there's precipitation into the bargain.

I love my rebounder, but lately every time I mend it, I get about 25 minutes' use out of it before another spring goes. So it's between mends again and I need something until I can get a better one.

I picked up this jump rope for about a dollar when I was in town...

 ...and amazingly, I can actually swing it in here--I didn't think there would be room! It's been a while since I've used a jump rope for dedicated exercise, so I'll appreciate any recommendations or how-tos!

The other thing that Fall signifies is that the 'indoor' activities around town are getting into full swing. This week, the Homer Theatre is hosting its Eight Annual Documentary Film Festival. Last night, we saw Soul Resonance--a movie produced by some local Homer folks, actually, about the spread of Zimbabwean music in North America and beyond. Marimbas, mbiras and cultural sharing--so much beautiful music. Homer is a huge marimba town (there are four bands, including a kids' band that is just phenomenal) and it so happens that some of the people who 'seeded' marimbas in Homer are the same people that seeded them in Hawaii where I used to live, so there were even some familiar faces in the movie! The marimba bands were present for the movie and performed afterwards, so it was a high-energy and high-local-pride evening.

I'm also hoping to take in Cave of Forgotten Dreams (in 3D, of all things--I've never seen a 3D film before), I Am, and The Interrupters--and maybe even a couple others. It'll be a sweet challenge to find the balance between taking advantage of offerings in town and hunkering down to get my work and writing done.

This advertising board, right by the farmers' market, seems to sum up the spirit of Homer. "Inspired Health" and "Spit Tobacco"--only here...

I'll be back with some food talk tomorrow.

Have you seen any great documentaries lately? Do you watch more movies when it gets darker outside?

Anchorage Trip; Tactile Sense to Stave off Anxiety

Happy Friday, everyone, wherever you are! I'm on my way home from another Anchorage trip--solo, this time. Having been a green-card-holder for two years, I have to reaffirm my presence and personage and be checked again for bona fides. So today, they 'captured' my fingerprints (I love that expression: don't worry, the part that makes prints is still attached to my fingers!) and mugshot. Hopefully it won't be as bad a shot as the one on my current card...

I also got snow tires put on our 'warthog.' Which meant being helped out above and beyond by one of the in-store mechanics at CostCo, and then being patronized mercilessly by the guy in the shop. I did lay myself open for even more of it by cringing at one of the especially ear-splitting hydraulic wrench noises, I guess... Not before time with the snow tires--I'll share pictures tomorrow but compared to this one from last week...

...the snow has now advanced at least half-way down the mountains, closer every day. And so we're heading into yet another beautiful face that this land can present. Hazardous as it can be, the drive between Homer and Anchorage is always so beautiful--I'm grateful that so much of it is so 'wild.' Anchorage itself, of course, is the antithesis, with cheaper and more abundant everything in its much larger variety of stores (although, to be fair, there are plenty of 'wild' areas in Anchorage and you can always see the mountains like the walls of a bowl). It can be bamboozling, all the errands we run when we go to Anchorage--from CostCo to the Natural Pantry to the Habitat for Humanity Store to Office Max to the bookstores to (horrors) occasionally WalMart... I think back to times when I lived in close biking or driving distance to the analogous gamut of places, though, and overall I feel that the lack of those conveniences at home is more than made up for by the natural beauty. It's also yet another way of paying attention to what we choose to buy.

Speaking of choosing what to buy, I made a somewhat wacky purchase today that, wackiness notwithstanding, was probably a very smart buy indeed. I showed these fluffy dusters at the Habitat for Humanity Store on our last trip, mentioned that they made me smile.

I was back there again this morning, looking for door hinges and such, running the gauntlet of defunct refrigerators and rows of bathtubs laying there like coffins, miscellaneous parts and pieces in ziploc bags stuffed in milk crates. Stores are anxious places for me anyway, even stores with a logical layout where I know or can infer where everything is. Stores with an element of chaos are difficult for me above and beyond that. The predictable run to the bathroom didn't stop the rising panic; I was starting to be incoherent...And then I found myself over with the fluffy dusters, holding the fluffy in my hands, just feeling the softness, the givingness.

I breathed. I felt.
I became able to continue looking for hinges, even if I did drop several and get my finger pinched in one to the point that I almost couldn't free myself!

So, for the princely sum of $2, I walked out the store with two different possibilities of hinge-set and one deep green fluffy duster-head (I didn't need the stick part).Throughout the day, driving around, doing errands, not receiving an email I needed to receive, making it to Biometrics and the scary Immigration people (who were actually extremely nice and friendly and not-scary), I thrust my hand into that giving softness and felt calmer.

Like a baby with a security blanket? Well, yes, I guess so. And I think there's some good reason for that behavior. It seems like different senses can be different avenues to get back into the body, to pull back from the brink. It was good news for me today that the tactile sense worked so well. It might even become a good decoy from nail-biting and skin-pulling.

The most impressive thing: it got me to breathe. Seems like as long as you're breathing, there's a chance.
Do you love the feel of soft and fluffy things?