I stood on the scales
today and weighed in at one hundred and seven point nine kilogrammes. In
imperial terms that’s a loss of five and a half pounds in a week. I know from
experience that a *lot* of weight
comes off in the first week of any diet, but if I could manage to shed only a
pound a week for the rest of the year I might just only be “overweight” by Christmas.
As I made my brekkie (toast and jam – three hundred calories)
I wondered if maybe muesli might be a better brekkie for me. I might get some
and find out.
Interestingly the
people who provide my calorie counter emailed my today with some
weight loss tips. Nor much as I admire them for the
calorie counter and the database of the nutritional content of over two million
different foods, I was rather dubious about advice being offered by someone by
the name of Jackie S Womble.
There wasn’t much
happening on Facebook this morning, but I saw that CAMRA had announced its “Dover pub of the year”. I wondered about
asking how the decision had been made; for several years I was a member of
CAMRA’s Ashford branch and never heard
anything from them whatsoever from one year to the next. I used to get wound up
when the local branch would declare its local pub of the year and claim that
the membership had decided it when neither I nor any fellow members of my
acquaintance had never been asked.
I set the washing
machine going and set McAfee scanning my lap-top, then got the dogs organized
and took them round the park. There was a minor disaster when we found our way
blocked by some tree surgeons. I say “blocked”;
we could walk round easily enough but it involved walking round by going
through a swamp. Once past the swamp we met Oscar; a little pug who Treacle
actually played with for a while. Fudge behaved himself mostly; there was a
near incident when he tried to join in with OrangeHead’s posse, but one of
their number stopped and caught him for me. She knows what a pain he can be.
We came home; both dogs
had the mud washed from their undersides. I hung out the washing and put more
in to scrub. "er
indoors TM"
had sorted some rubbish for the tip so I loaded that into the car together with
four black sacks that (for no reason that
I could fathom) the bin men didn’t take. I collected Cheryl and her mate (who were on the way home from town), got
Cheryl’s old mattress, and took a car full of rubbish to the tip.
The tip was rather busy
for a Tuesday morning. Things might have been easier for me had I not been
followed by one of the staff who was constantly telling me that towels went in
the household waste. I assured him that I had no towels, but he wouldn’t let it
lie. I showed him the rubbish I had; old clothes, a broken vacuum cleaner, a
cracked bowling ball… still he wouldn’t shut up about towels.
With rubbish unloaded it
was only a short hop from the tip to the shingle shop where I bought four bags
of red granite. It is surprising how heavy those bags of shingle are. I got
them into the car easily enough but had to seriously strain getting them from
the car into the back garden.
I hung out more
washing, then put undercrackers in to scrub as I watched another episode of “Jamestown”. It was odd. The show started
off being a period drama and it carried on like this for the first season and
most of the second season. And Jocelyn’s heaving bosom was a little (not so little) bonus. Now it has suddenly
become a zombie-horror show, and Jocelyn has put her bosom away.
What’s that all about?
I took myself off to
bed for the afternoon. I slept reasonably well. I would have slept better had
the dogs not been barking at random shadows for much of the time. I woke just
after five o’clock and spent an hour devising a geo-puzzle which I might hide
for the gratification of humanity (or
that fraction of humanity which likes hunting Tupperware) later in the
week.
Once "er indoors TM" has cooked my
dinner I’m off to the night shift…
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