I've been doing a pretty good job of sabotaging my earlier good works this week. I've eaten the calories burned during today's bike ride at least 3 times over. I've drunk far too much wine. I've eaten out 3 times and not been mindful of my food choices. I haven't pointed. I have at least kept up with exercise tho - several walks of varying length (20 - 40 mins), belly dancing and 3+ hours (31.5 miles4) on bike today. I will do better from tomorrow, I will I will I will.
Ms T is
Oh and O suddenly remembered the other day that he never got the promised bowling trip when we went to Brizzul, so we might have to do that. Trafford Centre could be a good idea, akshually - shops and cinema and bowling and bumper cars all together. And we could all go on a luverly bike ride to Lyme Park (speak to me not of Lyme, show me the spot where Mr Darcy dived1).
Maybe Ms J might join us too?
1. Not that that happens in the book. The real Mr Darcy would not have done that. I am a Jane Austen fundamentalist and I complained bitterly2 thro the BBC adaptation3
2. if bitterly = irritatingly pedantically
3. and don't get me started on Bridget Feckin Jones ...
4. I just realised, that's half a metric century5. Wooo.
5. Or 5280 times the length of a London Bus, in real terms