Seven seconds of bliss

I hope the world is treating you all well this mid week in October.

After some period of apparent inactivity, I came home to find Colin the Model - you remember him - the modest one, trying to improve his physique on the ProTrainer using the half kilo weight. I don't know if he is trying to say something about my pitiful endeavours, but if he doesn't want to end up in Woollies window without any clothes (if you get my drift), he best be tactful about it. I don't know how he even got in the garage, the door is really stiff.

Brother in law and I were planning to take some long exposure pictures of the bright lights of Hull Fair this week, but the weather is against us with low cloud and mist, and getting close or in the fair taking pictures is problematic so hopefully if the weather lifts we may get some nice pictures to display for you.

I went to the quacks this morning and when I left him to go to work, I had my headlights on - the time? nine-fifteen. It was grey and miserable. I noticed that when I put my headlights on, the sat nav went into night mode and I couldn't read it, even though it was daylight, albeit murky daylight.

Did I say my knee was playing up? It's been really painful for about six weeks after a session one night on the treadmill when I was very tired and not in the mood. I went to my good friend Linda's house last night to work on my meditations which have been less than fruitful or beneficial in recent weeks and by coincidence, Linda happens to be my Shiatsu back therapist. I sat down, gingerly, and she asked me what was the matter with my knee. After the end of the meditation session, she sat me on the floor with my legs out straight and felt my knees (lucky me).

My right one, she said was fine, the left one (which was giving me some pain) had slipped out of position after I presumably twisted my knee even though I can't remember doing it. Anyway after about seven seconds of manipulating it, it went back and other than some muscular tenderness around it, it's now pain free. Just shows eh? Six weeks of pain, seven seconds to remedy it. Losing weight undoubtedly helped to minimise the pain because there is less stress on it - ironic that it should cause the pain (through exercise) in the first place.

Confucius

Anyway, I thought I'd bring you all some culture and I looked at the works of the mighty Confucius. He was a philosopher and thinker, as you would imagine and he was born as far back as 551 BC in China according to legend. His work influenced many far eastern countries such as Japan, Korea, China and Vietnam and it majored on governmental morality, social relationships, justice and sincerity. Thanks to Wikipedia for the info. Here are a few lines (best said in a fake Chinese accent):

Woman's charms like a spider's web - lead to flies undoing;
Man who drive like hell bound to get there;
Man who keep feet firmly on ground will have trouble putting pants on;
Man who live in glass house should change in basement;
Man who want pretty nurse should be patient;
Better to be pissed off than pissed on;
Man who leap off cliff jump to conclusion;
Man who put head in fruit drink get punch on nose;
Man who handles privates all day not necessarily sergeant;
...and finally to show Confucius not sexist:
Girl who sit on jockeys lap get hot tip.

Chat soon

Ta-ra.

New clothes required

I'm slightly worried about Colin the model. He's got through two locked doors into my garage while I was at work today and when I went for my constitutional this evening, I found him... on the treadmill! What is going on? I know he's like me, hitherto not very active - in fact positively comatose, but wooden artists models are NOT supposed to need exercise. I wonder what he's up to and I wonder which of my three lads he's conspiring with? No-one is admitting anything despite bright lights and the threat of crisps deprivation.
Anyway, while I'm worrying about what Colin will get up to next, I think it's time to divulge the latest diet update. The diet has been going well, nothing's changed - intake is the same, more exercise now and clothes decidedly too large. I can't remember if I ever told you that at the beginning of the diet, you start with a strict week, really low fat, very few points (and mine as a matter of interest was 28). The points refer to certain foods which are allotted points and 28 was the maximum I could have per day.

After the end of the week, the weighing was done and points should have been recalculated according to weight. Problem was my dearest never recalculated hence why my weight fell off, she should have increased it to 37 and never did (by mistake) - I stuck to 28 - but none the wiser!

But dramatic though it has been, thank goodness it's been okay - the diet has really given me hope and impetus to keep it going for good even after my body tells me it's reached the weight it should. After 20 weeks, I have now lost a grand total of ('weight' for it...)

57 pounds! (just over four stones)

The question I am asked is how much do I want to lose and I have never revealed that for two reasons: firstly I am embarrassed about how obese I had become (and still are although at a lower category); and secondly, I didn't want to set myself up to fail. I guess that at some stage, the body will come to a level of weight where it is happy and despite sensible diet, will lose no more. That's the point I no longer say I am on a diet, but I carry on with my healthier eating lifestyle (with gentle exercise) as a norm - and do you know what? I don't miss the chips, crisps, chocolate, pints of milk, cheese etc., etc., at all. I don't nibble at any of them because if I did, I reckon I'd be tempted back - so I just don't have it.

Easy? No and I can understand those who struggle with the psychological battle on a daily if not hourly basis. I don't have any answers save to say it was the shock of seeing myself in a glass wall one day on my way to work and suddenly realising in an instant what I had become without ever realising I had reached the point of being grossly overweight. Sheer shock.

Today's story is food related. A man and a woman were sitting at a table in a restaurant when the waitress noticed the man slide down his chair and under the table. The woman he was sat with looked remarkably unconcerned. The waitress thought she had better mention it.
"Excuse me," the waitress said, "I think your husband has just slid under the table."
"No," replied the woman coldly, "He's just walked in the door."

Whoops!

Chat soon

Ta-ra.

The mystery of Colin

Being half asleep this morning (and every other morning) I trudged past the bookcase carefully balancing my bowl of Weetabix and sultanas and the glass of orange juice and plonked myself on the chair. I don't have a lot of time during the week but on Saturday mornings when I get up early to take my lad to his Saturday job, I have the luxury of watching the news on the BBC for ten minutes as I wake up. This morning however, I didn't do that. I stared at the bookcase realising something was slightly different and then I spotted it. Colin the model was holding the bookshelf up!
Now Colin I have to tell you, and I am comfortable telling you, because I can trust you and in any case Colin can't read, that Colin is not a great conversationalist. He usually stands quite quietly, doesn't move around much and watches the world go by. He doesn't offer opinions or have any loans with the bank (as far as I am aware.) He does like to be the centre of attention when I have pencil and paper in my hand and use him in drawing practise. He's cheap to have around and he only needs cleaning with a fluffy duster now and then.

So how he came to be holding the shelf up is a bit of a mystery. As models go (size minus 42) he's not that good looking if I were honest and I won't be getting any calls from Cosmopolitan I shouldn't think, but I never imagined for one minute that I had a DIY expert in the house. This could be useful particularly because I need some painting doing soon and some hooks putting in the wall. The problem is he's only 12 inches tall and not strong enough to carry ladders so I'll have to do most of the work in any case - no good there then.

I'll have to wait and see if he demonstrates any other useful functions before I can take him on (as long as he doesn't want paying).

As it's the weekend, its list time. This is what would happen if men got pregnant:

• Morning sickness would be the nation's top ranked illness needing a cure;
• Maternity leave would be two years with full pay;
• Children would stay in the maternity ward until they are toilet trained;
• Natural childbirth would be a thing of the past;
• There WOULD be a cure for stretch marks;
• Sons would have to home from dates at 10 pm sharp;
• Men would be eager to talk about commitment.

Chat soon

Ta-ra.