temptation. I knew it was wrong to crow even a little bit about how much weight I've lost and how smooth the journey was. Monday afternoon and yesterday it was all I could do not to stop at Culver's or Dairy Queen or slip over to the self-serve bakery when I stopped to pick up a prescription in the grocery. Look at the kind of lunch I have most days. This is nearly 2 cups of chopped salad (out of a bag from Sam's), some deli turkey cut up, and a tablespoon (a mere tablespoon!) of lite honey mustard salad dressing, all stirred together and stuffed into half (and I could eat the whole thing for the same single point) of a Joseph's Oat Bran & Flax pita (from Walmart). It is so delicious and filling, I'm glad I invented it. After I made this go away I ate about a cup of red grapes. Who needs anything else? Evidently my inner 9-year-old who is always whining for candy and ice cream does but I held strong, doubled down on caramel mini rice cakes as an afternoon snack after our visit with our broker. Damned temptation. All it is is a habitual response to a bad-ish mood. I'm bigger and stronger than it is. *nods decisively*
I've been paging through the 2 new Weight Watchers cookbooks we ordered and, as you can see, I've found a few things I'd like us to cook. To be honest, I stopped putting markers in the bigger book because everything looked so good that I told Durwood that I want to make it ALL. He understood and will be paging through himself, making a list of things we've got the meat to make and veggies we need to buy. (I went downstairs and did a new freezer inventory yesterday morning so he can type it up and we can begin with a clean slate again. The inventory list gets messy and inaccurate after a while.)
This little chipmunk has claimed the patio step and sits there chirping most of the day. It's the same note that it repeats endlessly. It's like that guy who used to sit in the park calling out "hey, hey, hey" to every passerby. Sometimes I just have to open the patio door and shoo it away. Drives me bonkers.
The red petunia plant is looking fabulous these days but then I remember to dead head it so it blooms more than it would if I didn't. Another nasturtium grew and just opened its first bloom, so the chipmunks and squirrels left two seeds behind in their night raid.
I finished the last August Preemie Hat last night and then got to the blue body of the August Seamen's Cowl. I've sure left these late this month, haven't I? But I've got a week from tomorrow to finish the cowl. It's good TV knitting so I'm not worried.
August 24--Harold Lee Miller, DS5-1-4-7. Gayle thought Lila looked like a china doll in her little cotton dress with its gathered skirt and embroidered bodice. Her chubby arms reminded her of cherubs' arms in those old paintings from the Renaissance. The straw cowboy hat was a jarring note but seeing that she rode a hobby horse maybe it was the dress that wasn't right. Gayle remembered pretending she rode across the wide open spaces of the West on that same horse when she was a child. She had wanted to be Dale Evans riding Buttermilk alongside Roy Rogers on Trigger, listening to him sing to the cattle as they rode into the sunset.
Okey, dokey. Mrs. Boss called an hour ago to ask me to stop and pick up some tanks that have been serviced so I'd better load up my lunches and head out. Toodle-oo!