[di-mok-ruh-see]  1. government by the people; a form of government in which the supreme power is vested in the people and exercised directly by them or by their elected agents under a free electoral system.

If Stephen Harper is reading, he might consider extracting head from… rightwing, ultra-conservative, power hungry ass!!
There  I was, not long ago, expressing my resigned satisfaction, if not relief, at our maintaining status quo, no matter how very mediocre.  Well, I take it back. If this last election and the Conservative’s attempt to manipulate the public, while kicking the opposition while Dion- I mean, down- is not enough, how ‘bout lets really test the nation’s collective constitution and drive us into complete political dissaray in the midst of a financial crisis all under the guise of political and economic righteousness.

Rather than Hope.  Change.  Yes We Can;  as evidenced by our ever-evolving brethren to the south, we get Blatant. Backroom. Partisan. Opportunism.  Brilliant!

And while I maintain only the hardiest of disdain towards the prospect of Celine- I mean, Stephane- Dion as PM, I put my trust in little handsome Jack.  A cobbled together coalition has to be an improvement over being dragged down fascist lane!

And… with this backdrop of uncharacteristically interesting Canadian political activity, I begin Detox.  Not only do these trying times call for a tidy, sparing and prudent pocketbook… but constitution as well.  Excess is out and that means food… fat… and just plain consumption, in general.

It’s time to get rid of what is fast becoming a spare tire.  And saddlebags.  And turkey wings.  Not to mention the patchy, dry flakiness- no not my disposition! Complexion, readers!!- and acne.  No more Coca-Cola.  Miss Vickie’s Salt & Vinegar.  Fondue.  Meat.  Fast Food.  Yuck… yuck… and yuck.

Hello, tahini and rice cakes!!  Herbal tea!  Brown rice!

I turn 40 in a mere 16 DAYS!!!  And while I may no longer have visions of bringing in a new decade in a body much like that of Dara Torres, I’d at least like to feel like I’m on a better, healthier track.  And I’ve signed up for a half marathon 29th of March.  Training must now begin…. again.

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It’s in my cupboards, in my fridge, God knows it’s everywhere when I head to the grocery store, and little by little, week by week, collecting in greater amounts around my middle and on my hips and thighs.

Sure, the answer is… JUST STOP EATING IT!  I know that… sheesh!  The point is, whatever cycle I’m in, whether it be emotional, hormonal or just simply climatic, it’s the fat that satisfies, my friend.  I seem not to be able to get enough.

Cheese upon more cheese.  Chicken wings.  Potato chips.  Chocolate… chocolate… and yes, more chocolate.  Ideally topped with some form of cheese.  Oh, with a Pilsbury Grands Cinnamon Bun chaser.

It’s a sickness right now but I do feel change is in the air.  I mean, how close do I want to come to my 40th BIRTHDAY feeling like I just ingested a whole wheel of English Stilton.

This morning I’ve decided:  five weeks seems close enough to me….

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The subject of this weeks Best Shot Monday is just downright spooky. We are here in Northern Virginia visiting hubby’s family. His sister has recently been diagnosed with breast cancer and only last week began her very aggressive chemotherapy treatment. When the chemo is over she will lose a breast.

After managing their way through the trial of the diagnosis, the information gathering and the just plain old life changing nature of the experience in a very short time, she is now feeling for the most part lousy from the chemo. She will lose her fertility and her hair. But with this most aggressive treatment her prognosis is good.

Here’s the deal. She’s turning 40 next month. She’s married. She has three kids, ages 6, 3 and not yet 2. She has a tremendous fight ahead of her. I don’t know that she quite has her head around what lies before her, I don’t know that anyone would… or could. But she is keeping a fabulous attitude. She smiles. She laughs. She is moving forward with incredible strength, grace and humour.

She’ll shave her head on Wednesday. And in anticipation of that event she asked me to shoot a portrait. The quintessential ‘before‘. She rallied, gussied, put on a smile and sat by a tree nearby her home. Despite being tired, feeling sick and emotionally exhausted!

In honour of all those battling this disease and my dear SIL, with a big shout out to Caring Bridge, where she shares this ordeal with family, friends and others- a mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend- a superhero….

funny…

generous…

alive…

loyal…

loving…

vibrant…

joyous…

strong.

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As of this day, I am a woman in my thirties for only six more months.  Or in a brief six months, I merely resign myself to being perpetually 39.

Nooooo….

So, in contemplating 40 relentlessly bearing down just around the corner, I ask myself, “How do I want to leave this decade?  And how do I want to enter the next?”

I’ve heard women in their forties exclaim enthusiastically, “40’s are theeeee BEST!”

Hmmmmm…. OK.  Groovy.  I can get behind that.  For sure.

But really, what do I want?

The short list:

• to be self-sufficient: in impending months as Filipes leaves present employment, I want to know- and actually prove that- I can support this family pursuing those things I find meaningful and fulfilling.
• to help to establish this family as geographically independent.
• to engage the world- my world- with confidence and self-assurance.
• to KNOW and EXPRESS gratitude… perpetually and profoundly.
• to just plain GO WITH IT!  SURRENDER!  It all works out as it should….

Short list, as I said.  I’ve got six months to make revisions…  I didn’t say anything about consistency.

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