Kicking off the Holidays

Sunday is Empty Bowl Project day in Austin! It's always the Sunday before Thanksgiving, and I always think of it as the kickoff to the holiday season. Mom and I go together, and this will be our sixth or seventh year in a row to do so.

The Austin Empty Bowl Project is a fundraiser for the Capital Area Food Bank's Kids Cafe. Local potters create beautiful pieces of art in the form of bowls. You pick your bowl for a donation of $15, have it washed and filled with delicious soup made from a few dozen local restaurants, and then sit down to some live music to enjoy the eats. There is also a silent auction of "celebrity bowls" and commemorative t-shirts. All supporting those who are hungry right here in our community.

I'm sure the holidays are going to be tough this year since Daddy passed away just a few weeks ago, but if I can do things like this -- spend time with family and focus on giving and helping right here close to home -- I think I just might survive.

So, are you going?

Emotional Eating

For almost the last two weeks, I've been the walking and talking definition of "emotional eating." That's normally not me. I'm a clock eater: I eat at 9am, noon, 3pm and as close to 6pm as possible. But when Daddy was hospitalized and then put on life support, I had to force myself to eat just to fuel my body enough to travel to see him. When he passed away and we buried him, I again had to force myself to eat just to keep from being dehydrated from all the tears.

Since then, I've been eating everything in sight. I'm sad. And I'm a bit scared and worried, but I really don't know what I'm scared of. And although I know peanut butter cups don't really help with any of that, for some reason in some tiny way, they kinda do.

My dad was an incredible character. I have his eyes and dimples and broad shoulders. He taught me to catch a fish, shoot a gun, unclog a toilet and drive. He was proud of my education and my work, and he hung my photographs proudly throughout his home. He had an amazing laugh that I hope my memory will always allow me to hold on to.

It still feels very unreal to me that he's gone.

I hope I can pull a lesson or two out of all of this: Eat for fuel and health. Cry when I need to. Take more pictures. Laugh. Remember the good. Do something beautiful and full of life every day. Love.