I’ve re-written this blog and moved it to Pages in my writing blog, here.
Watching movies like The Lord of the Rings, where the characters have to walk hundreds of miles, makes me happy to be alive in the 21st century. I wouldn’t want to be doing all that trudging around to get where I wanted to go; thank the stars for the diesel engine. It pains me to think of all those miles I might otherwise have to walk… and my son and grandchildren live up the most enormous hill!
No, the diet has not arrived on my doorstep yet. Tonight there have been Magnum ice-lollies, and the shop had packs of sausage rolls for 10p so I had to buy them, didn’t I? I mean there are about ten in each pack. But, it’s coming soon – I know it. I pressed a finger into my shin yesterday and almost lost it! I’ve got grannies’ legs.
So, I should be back here next week to report that I’ve begun, or that I’ve fell through the floorboards or someone’s stairs or just died in my sleep (in that case I’ll get my son to make the report). Don’t hold your breath, will you?
I think I’m falling down, descending, melting and will soon end up spread out and shaped like one of those little dolls with a rounded base – wibble-wobble. Everything is slipping down into my legs! Pretty soon I won’t be able to get up and walk around.
I think this means I need to get up and walk around now – right now. MOVE IT FATTY! Sometimes the fantasy of me setting off every day for a one-mile walk/stroll/drudge flashes into my head and I nod to myself… yes, I’ll do it. It won’t be so bad, but then I have to go out for something, to the local shops, and slip onto the bus instead of walking the quarter-mile into town!
I think I should be in chains, in jail, imprisoned in a health farm. I need some kind of control device; does Ebay sell torture devices? It’s really just my bed and sofa that need electrifying. Hypnotism from my mountain might help; a nice red ray beamed into my flat every day at the same time would get me up and about.
I think I’m dying. One day I’ll explode and then I’ll be sorry I didn’t exercise and explore the area more – I mean there’s a lovely bench up near the loch; I could easily walk the quarter-mile there and sit all day, then walk back, averting my eyes from MacDonald’s (I don’t really like them anyway – it’s not my thing).
I think I’ll make tomorrow a red-letter day and hop on the scales. It’s a cheap set – what if I break them? Is there a weight limit? There’s a limit on my little kitchen steps and I’m over it, but I defy death and use them anyway.
I think I’m running out of options so am eating all the carbs in the house because I’m a canny Scot who doesn’t want to see anything go to waste; there’s still some mashed potatoes and white flour left (though that’s actually out of date – but who takes any notice of dates?).
I think I’m resigned to my fate. Oh dear.
Well the big box of chocolates on my desk at work yesterday morning definitely scuppered the beginning of the diet! So, I’ll start tomorrow, or the next day – depends on how long it takes me to polish them off; I did share them with number 2 son 🙂 But I was planning a late Pancake Day; and all that white flour will need to be used up…so, sometime this week.
Not today because there are still chocolates left and I just had an enormous bowl of Sugar Puffs for my late breakfast. Onward and upward.
I am done in, triple
packs are a fact
ripple in waves
BUY ME NOW!
They’re in my bag!
their crispy wrapping.
OPEN ME NOW!
There’s no escape
the kettle’s on.
I can’t count
the speed, my fingers
reach for another
THERE’S NONE LEFT!
It’s the tea.
If it wasn’t for tea
I’d be thin –
tea needs feeding.