Skip to main content

Your cheatin' heart...

It was back to Binland yesterday morning to do the short walk to the scales for the weekly Diet Club weigh in.  

Bearing in mind that it had been almost impossible to stay away from the brown egg-shaped stuff over Easter, I was expecting the walk to be accompanied by one of my colleagues shouting out 'Fat Bird Walking' in the style of The Green Mile.  A single tolling bell would have added to the somber nature of the weigh in yesterday, and approaching the scales, I breathed out deeply (every little helps) and hopped on. As it happens,  I was pleasantly surprised.  'Deeply grateful' is another phrase I could use, along with 'Dear Lord, it's a miracle'.  I had stayed the same weight as last week you see, and I felt like I'd been given a reprieve.  Mrs S, who keeps a tally of the weights, was off work, so I jotted down my stationary weight and trotted back down the passage to my office, rapidly breathing in to stop myself from going blue.

Perhaps the long walk on Saturday had something to do with the calories being used up.  I had only planned to be out for an hour, but made the foolish mistake of turning left instead of right at the footpath crossroads.  For about half an hour I was quite excited about walking through uncharted territory with the dogs, but an hour later, when I realised that the path was going at about a 45 degree angle in the opposite direction I thought I was heading, I had a decision to make.  

Did I simply carry on walking, and hope that I might chance upon a pub with a good phone signal, so that I could call the husband and ask him to rescue me?  Or should I just cut my losses and turn round?  Well ladies, I did the latter, and finally crawled through my front door with two knackered dogs a couple of hours later.  Neither they or I moved from our allotted place of rest for the next five hours, other than for a comfort break (me) or a dog biscuit (still me, as by then I was past caring).

Now as you know, I had 75% of my children here on Easter Sunday for a special roast lamb lunch for fourteen.  Daughter number two presented me with a stunning bouquet of flowers to thank me for 'adultifying' her room.  This was totally unnecessary of course, and once she'd had a look round, and realised that half of her cuddly toys had done the long walk to pastures new via the general waste bin, I'm sure she regretted splashing out on such extravagant blooms.  But at least she will now feel happier when Jolly Sock Man stays over.  He was with her on Sunday, and my family taught him the joys of Newmarket and Chase the Ace - two card games which rear their ugly heads at any family get together.  Newmarket is always accompanied by two things... alcohol and cheating, although this did me no good on this occasion as Jolly Sock Man ended up sweeping the board and taking all the money (£3.75 at the final count).

Chase the Ace was a hoot, and finally getting the hang of the game, Jolly Sock Man turned to me, and said that he didn't trust me as I was putting on 'that Fake Ace Face' again.

Turned out it wasn't that fake after all though.

That will teach him to never under estimate a middle aged woman filled to the gunnels with alcohol and cheap chocolate...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I can't stand the rain...

The bloody rain's back then...
I suppose that this is a blessing of some sorts as it means that my hosepipe will get a well earned weekend off, and the flowers won't be looking at me through the kitchen window, wondering whether there will be any chance of me getting off my derriere and giving them a drink sometime before the next millennium.  Talking of watering flowers, I haven't had any feedback from Mrs B next door as to the complete transformation of her front garden while she's been away.  I would imagine that after two glamorous weeks away, that she will have more than enough washing to do, and perhaps hasn't had the opportunity to do a full horticultural inspection as yet.
I finally got round to cleaning Charlie out yesterday afternoon. Armed with a bin liner and some sweet smelling multi surface cleaner, I gingerly opened the door.  Oh dear Lord....it is amazing just how much detritus eight adults can make over five and a half hours, and I soon realised that…

In da club...

Boy was I glad to see the end of this week.  What with the football, the weeping colleagues (just the male ones as the female variety were quite cock-a-hoop) and the incessant watering of myself as well as the allotment, my garden, and a neighbour's garden (a greenhouse, thirty tubs, four cacti, seven bowls of hedgehog water and a scoop of mealworms each day....in the hottest fortnight on record).  Throw into the mix some rather frustrating conversations with someone who shall go unnamed, I was very glad to leave Binland on Friday afternoon.
But there have been good things too.  And isn't that what life is about?  There's no point having good things if you don't have the bad to compare them to.
I spent a lovely two hours with the Mother on Thursday discussing plants, allotments and beetroot, and I'd like to think that the highlight of her afternoon was digging up a couple to take home for her dinner that night. Or maybe it was the contraband tomato I smuggled out …

I'm walking...

Having been knocked flattish by a sore throat and all of its accompanying delights, I was quite anxious as to whether I'd be able to rally for Schnauzerfest yesterday.  I'd pulled out all the stops with cakes and dog biscuits, and was desperate to do my favourite good cause justice.  

But oh happy day... I woke up yesterday feeling quite normal (stop laughing, you know what I mean) and I loaded the car and drove to Wittenham Clumps (yes, it's a real place!) Getting there early with Miss R and Mrs S we gave the dogs a quick walk before all the other walkers turned up.  The sky, which had been threatening an apocalypse, finally decided to show its good side, and the sun shone as we got ready for everyone else to turn up. 

Now I have been doing some serious whistle training with my two for the past month or so.  This basically means blowing a whistle and shaking a bag of cheese cubes, and I was optimistic about finally letting my two off so that they could run free with the res…