I adored this book. If we had got to have the book club dealy I thought we were going to having (clearing throat, Amanda), I would have thrown all this perspective on them.... as it is, I am throwing it on you, my unsuspecting, but usually up to whatever I have to drone on about, friends.
This book is so all encompassing, I have decided I am going to write about it in three parts. First, let's 'eat'.
This book was like reading my diary. Except without any travel, money, or big word usage. So maybe I should rephrase. This chick might be me. It's uncomfortable to read a book and see yourself (especially the unflattering parts) unfold on the pages. Everything she squirmed about that was totally her, was completely me. Except without the big words.
I loved this book so much I read up on her autobiography to see what she is doing today. What really spoke to me was when asked if she ever thought that SO MANY people would read her book, would she have been quite so 'personal" in her telling, she responded, that if indeed she had known, she might have held back some parts, but for the most part, no, she was pleased with the telling. And boy, so was I.
This chick is recovering from basically her "life". She hasn't lost anyone in death, she isn't so broke she is suicidal, but she has made some horrid mis-steps and longs for a better life, a more peaceful existance. So she first heads off to Italy to discover "pleasure". And she finds pleasure in food. THere are chapters that glory over her lunches, gelatos, and bottles of wine. I am intrigued by this, as I am buying a sign for my fridge that says "The only reason there is a kitchen, is because it came with the house".
I cooked when the older girls were babies and young kids. After the divorce, we started on what I like to call, "the lean years" diet. Consisted of alot of hamburgers and hotdogs, and pizza. And I have stuck with this diet most of my life. We'd have some spaghetti, tacos and pizza ring thrown in there now and then, but to say I cook, is a bit of a stretch. Now, I can cook. And when I want to, I can cook dang good. But then there is the aftermath of cooking that wears me out. The cleanup, the leftovers, the dishes. Blek. So I don't mind cooking if someone else will please pick up.
So I loved the whole idea of Liz eating. She just got her some muffin top fitting "Italy" pants and went on. Everything about that appeals to me. Of course, I say that being a 6 foot tall big ole drink of water that can eat anything I want (almost). My idea of a good round food group for breakfast is cheetos, sour/sweet gummie worms, and a DDP. That takes care of dairy (cheetos/cheese/ get it?) fruit (gummy's/vitamin c infused, right?) and DDP, I guess that's my cold caffeine. If you don't believe me, you can ask Amber, at 7-11 down the street, she will vouch for me. I rarely deviate. Though I have to admit, since I have been walking/running/sweating, I don't eat as much crap, and I only have my morning DDP, and have no more the rest of the day. Water, ice tea.. really trying hard here.
Anyhoo, What I derived from the eating in Italy, was that we don't relax enough and enjoy life. It's all hurry up and go, go go. and in Italy it's a slower gentler, easier pace. (But not as slow and gentle in Holland, my most favorite of all places)
So eat, but be smart about it. Walk 10 minutes at least twice a day, and enjoy dessert.
God is Good, all the time.
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