Tag Archives: family

A Nice Problem To Have

In the here & now, , ,

I think I mentioned didn’t I, that I was going away for the weekend with my mum? We’ve rented a little cottage near the sea, just for a few nights and when I went up to help her pack her bag last night she was almost beside herself…she does giddy almost as well as I do. To be fair, I think she’s just excited about spending four days with Charlie dog, who she utterly adores, but she doesn’t seem to mind that I’m tagging along too.

Mum’s packing was easy. She only has a tiny wardrobe, housing a few carefully selected clothes. My packing on the other hand, is proving more difficult, and it boils down to the fact that there’s just too much choice in my wardrobe these days. My first cut would have kept me comfortably clothed for a month, so I fannied around for ages putting things back and trying to second-guess what the weather’s going to do so I could pack just the right amount of stuff. Yeah, epic fail on that front by the way, my bags are stuffed to bursting point and anyone would think I’m about to leave home.

I’ll tell you what though, how much more enjoyable is it, packing for a trip when you’re excited to wear the things you’re taking with you? I know I won’t wear half the things I’ve packed but choosing which ones to leave behind is impossible because I want to wear them all so I’m unashamedly dragging a ridiculously large suitcase with me because you know what, I’ve earned the right to revel in these clothes. I’ll try them all on and do a fashion show for my mum every morning and then decide what to wear.

I have this wonderfully romanticised picture in my head, of me, gliding along the promenade with the gentle sea breeze ruffling my hair, looking so stylish in my new duds that folk take a moment from their busy day to just admire the look. Come on, that’s never going to happen. I’m more likely to be battered by the hoolie blowing off the east coast, which will whip my hair into a frenzy as I try to control a hyper-excited cocker spaniel and prevent my tiny octogenarian mum from blowing down the beach.

It doesn’t matter, does it? Whether anyone notices I look nice or not, I’ll feel nice. I’m about to go work out, and as I grit my teeth all the way through my muffin tops and bingo wings class, I’ll be thinking about those size eighteen linen pants hanging on the outside of my wardrobe. For my friends in the States, that’s a fourteen in your neck of the woods…I know, right? I’m five dress sizes down from where I started. I don’t care that there’s barely room to squeeze out a trump once I’ve put them on…they fasten, and I can still breathe if I sit down so as far as I’m concerned, they fit.

I hope you all have a wonderful Easter. Keep your eye on the Facebook page for postcards from the East Coast, and I’ll see you on the other side 🙂

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Time To Make Lemonade!

Freeform thoughts, , , ,

HNY

Well, posse, who’d have thought it? I keep scratching my head and looking around for someone to explain to me how the hell we got to the end of the year already. I hate to say this with virtual champagne corks popping all around me, but for the longest time this has been my least favourite night in the calendar. I mean sure, back in the day when I could comfortably drink my own bodyweight in champagne and party ’till the cows came home I used to like it, but for at least the last twenty five years New Year’s Eve has been up there with colonic irrigation as one of those things I’d rather have no part of.

I’m planning to retire with a good book way before midnight and just let 2016 settle gently around me, although my four-legged bedfellow will have other ideas once the fireworks start going off at midnight. Considering he’s of working gun-dog descent, he has a real issue with bangs, and he’s usually as miserable as me on old year’s night.

The problem I have with it is twofold. Firstly it’s an opportunity to take stock of where you’re at in your life, what you’ve achieved this year and what your dreams are for the next. I don’t know about you, but during my annual stocktake I’ve never been able to place a tick in the box for being filthy rich, skinny and dating a bloke who’s who’s hung like a donkey. Life gave me lemons, right?

Secondly it’s a date that pretty much demands that you eat, drink and be merry. How arrogant. Let’s revisit yesterday’s post about being stubborn shall we..? I’ll enjoy it on my terms if you don’t mind. And in any event, forget the booze, I’ve been pre-occupied most years by how much I can eat before midnight because the New Year diet is looming.

But this year feels different. Different better. I’m not about to embark on a fresh cycle of failure marked by a succession of false starts because I’m already in the groove. I’m just about three dress sizes down, and this morning I fastened my watch on the next notch on the strap. Such a little thing but a moment, you know? Oh I know I’m still a heifer, and I will be for a good while yet, but before long I’ll be a foxy heifer with bone structure…awesome.

This year when I look back, I smile. I’ve eaten within a food plan for one hundred and thirty six days without stepping a toe out of line, and I feel strong, and sure-footed. I don’t always make the best choices, but I spend my budget, and that’s that. I discovered a love of writing and now I can’t imagine a day when we don’t chat. I’m fitter, and whilst I won’t be winning races anytime soon, I’m moving. And you guys…well, what can I say? One hundred and thirty six days ago I didn’t know you, and now we’re practically family.

2016 is the year when I’m going to get reacquainted with my collar bone. You’ll be able to tell where my shoulders finish and my head starts, imagine that. I’ll be able to get out of my armchair without having to rock myself up. And oh my god, the first time I can sit down and cross my legs…well I think I’ll burst with being giddy. It’s the little things that will mean the most you know? I mean I know I’ve got exciting stuff planned but it’s being able to do things that most folk take for granted which will give me the biggest thrill of all.

I’m excited about the future, and I hope you are too. I’m excited about trying that size 22 top on tomorrow that I’ve been visualising since Vegas. I suspect I might need to breathe in a bit to make it fasten (!) but really, who gives a crap…second skin or not, if the zip fastens it’s a goal, right?

Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing on the eve of this clean, bright shiny new slate, I’d like to thank you from the deepest bit of my big fat heart for your company and your unwavering support over the last few months. I wish every single one of you a very healthy, happy and skinny New Year. I hope that we’ll continue this journey together…2016 is our year chaps.

We’ve got this 🙂

 

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