Advice from a small town girl

Oops.

I didn’t get around to writing a column last week.

It was probably because I was out sweeping the cobwebs off the storefront.

Or maybe washing my feet.

At any rate, time got away from me. My apologies.

This week, I’ve been thinking about one of those things we learn as children, although perhaps not always intentionally.

I’ve been thinking about “Practicing What You Preach.”

I tend to think of this particular topic in capitals, because somehow I grew up thinking it was incredibly important.

More recently than my distant childhood, it has become known as “Walking the Walk.”

As in, not just “Talking the Talk.”

Goodness gracious, I know all about that.

I’m a pretty good talker. You probably haven’t noticed.

Now, if I actually practiced what I preached, my house would be spotless, my dog would be well-behaved, there would be no weeds in the garden (only plump tomatoes and crisp green beans and bountiful, beautiful flowers), I would be thin, I’d be able to run across the street without fear, I wouldn’t waste time playing computer games and I’d be wildly successful. Oh, and I’d have tons of spare time.

You get the drift.

It’s so easy to KNOW what you need to do. DOING it, not so much.

If I had made only ONE of the changes I’ve written about over the past couple of years, I’d be in much better shape today.

But, once written, twice forgotten, at least in my case.

I really thought, when I began this venture, that the potential for public humiliation would keep me on track.

Turns out public humiliation means nothing to me. Make fun of me all you want. I’ll just keep eating.

Now here it is, the end of August.

School starts this week, and Deutsches Fest is nearly here. Then it will be the holidays.

And then I will turn 60.

There may not be time for me to become thin by then, but I could make some progress.

But only if I zip my lip and lace up my shoes.