The sober equation
Working on Skelton Yawngrave this morning, cutting away like a maniac. Have changed being a painter splashing on colours to being a sculptor chipping nervously at a block to release the form inside. After a while of this stuff time to slope off to the gym. Noticed my brown hoodie top I wear there is a mite looser, a tiny thing but it all counts to feed the dream of the new willowy me.
Home to a warm and restoring bowl of bean jar.
Lorraine working from home today, so I popped over late afternoon for a cup of tea and to watch her cooking a potato and onion stovie to take to her girl's night at Jan's house. We discussed managing difficult conversations, which she is reading about now for her leadership business. I am slightly anxious she will become a leadership ninja to whom I will have no choice but to slavishly comply. L has also lost five Xmas pounds and is quite cheery about it. We are encouraging one another.
An equally cheery Betty came back from working away from home for two days, sporting new turquoise converse boots and having been working on her personal statement for University applications.
Home again. Bizarrely ate what I fancied. And what I fancied was smoked tofu and raw red onions on oat biscuits (no sugar etc. just 100% oats).
I have decided I need to enter poetry competitions more. It is a nice profile raiser if you win. Have been trying to ready a couple of competition winning poems (which are a slightly different species to normal poems). Annoyingly the first poetry competition I entered, admittedly only a small one, I won first prize in. Since then nothing but tumbleweed and crows. Must try harder.
Otherwise all quiet in the Twitten apart from Calliope having a noisy punch up with a small and fierce tabby version of herself. Watched several Frasier episodes and noticed again that they are constantly helping themselves to sherry. I found myself fancying one and I don't even particularly like sherry. Luckily there is an equation in my head which goes like this. Drinking = giving up my diet = an early (and capacious) grave. So far this has proved highly effective.
Working on Skelton Yawngrave this morning, cutting away like a maniac. Have changed being a painter splashing on colours to being a sculptor chipping nervously at a block to release the form inside. After a while of this stuff time to slope off to the gym. Noticed my brown hoodie top I wear there is a mite looser, a tiny thing but it all counts to feed the dream of the new willowy me.
Home to a warm and restoring bowl of bean jar.
Lorraine working from home today, so I popped over late afternoon for a cup of tea and to watch her cooking a potato and onion stovie to take to her girl's night at Jan's house. We discussed managing difficult conversations, which she is reading about now for her leadership business. I am slightly anxious she will become a leadership ninja to whom I will have no choice but to slavishly comply. L has also lost five Xmas pounds and is quite cheery about it. We are encouraging one another.
An equally cheery Betty came back from working away from home for two days, sporting new turquoise converse boots and having been working on her personal statement for University applications.
Home again. Bizarrely ate what I fancied. And what I fancied was smoked tofu and raw red onions on oat biscuits (no sugar etc. just 100% oats).
I have decided I need to enter poetry competitions more. It is a nice profile raiser if you win. Have been trying to ready a couple of competition winning poems (which are a slightly different species to normal poems). Annoyingly the first poetry competition I entered, admittedly only a small one, I won first prize in. Since then nothing but tumbleweed and crows. Must try harder.
Otherwise all quiet in the Twitten apart from Calliope having a noisy punch up with a small and fierce tabby version of herself. Watched several Frasier episodes and noticed again that they are constantly helping themselves to sherry. I found myself fancying one and I don't even particularly like sherry. Luckily there is an equation in my head which goes like this. Drinking = giving up my diet = an early (and capacious) grave. So far this has proved highly effective.
Comments
A bean jars is like a woman. Each one has its moods, and unpredictabilities, its spirit cannot be captured ;-)