Okay, back to the sensible Z some of you know and love.
Pam and Peter are coming for supper tonight as I said, and I’m keeping it simple. Caesar salad, chicken in a nice sauce, meringues, strawberries and cream. Not made into Eton Mess, I haven’t made a trayful of carefully-shaped meringues just to break them up and put them into more cream than I want to eat. I don’t really want to eat any cream myself, being bent on major weight loss.
My forties were not good years. I can only be blunt about that. They started with my mother’s hip replacement and ended with her death. In between – well, it took me a long time to get over it all and I’ve never felt able to blog about it. And during the course of them, I put on two and a half stone in weight. I lost one and a half of them when I was trying to stave off deterioration of my hip, put half of that back on afterwards, dammit, have lost that again and now I’m going for the rest. Maybe not quite all of it, you can be too thin (and my mother was) and probably too rich as well, though I don’t suppose many of us have the latter problem, but I’m going to be the size I want to be and I’ll stay there.
And now I’ve told you, I’ve got to do it.