One day old, two comments and one follower later, that's how I feel - like a superstar! It's heady stuff, this blogging! Perhaps headier is a spicy Chinese lunch at a restaurant on a somnolent Sunday afternoon, doggy bags neatly stacked in the refrigerator for a second bout of 'Tora Tora Tora' perhaps late in the evening.
Child has departed for a cup of brutally expensive coffee with her friends at a coffee shop nearby, discarding my thrifty suggestions of having them over and stirring up a Cafe Latte Unique with the freshest ingredients from her own fridge and larder. "Mamma, I like to go out!" she squealed in her squeakiest descant designed to pierce even the frequency of a bat. I threw up my hands in defeat, mulling over the idea of positioning them there permanently since I am so often defeated of late! But no - swinging them up and down periodically is good exercise for a sedentary creature such as I. In defeat therefore, lies my victory over the excess pounds (not the British variety) that have accumulated over various parts of my once delicate person.
I went to a lunch gathering of a small number of alumni spread over several batches recently - some of whom I knew slightly and some not at all. It was an eyeopener in the sense that most of us had apparently ballooned into shapes not unlike Obelix and Little Lotta - but some remained remarkably Popeye and Olive-like, without quite subsisting only on spinach. The general verdict was that middle age brings with it its own layers of adipose, and we should not individually be held responsible for it! Most were against gymming but pro yoga and multi-kilometre walks without snatcher-friendly gold chains around our necks.
My daily exercise actually involves walking up and down the stairs and totally avoiding the lift because I am claustrophobic and automated elevators give me the heebiejeebies. Methinks I do not belong to the age of the multi-storeyed apartment and the high rise block.