It's Mardi Gras today which literally translates as Fat Tuesday. I do feel a bit fat. Pancakes tonight and a debate about what to give up for Lent. The Apprentice and I have chocolate at the top of our list but I am also considering alcohol. I never succeed anyway. I am just not Jesus. "Get behind me Satan" seems to turn into "Ooooh goody goody wine and chocolate, Come here Satan, bring it on."
Mr Smith brought home a horrid little publication in the form of an alcohol unit chart that you can attach to your fridge. It advises on the bossy government's recommended daily alcohol consumption and throws in the calories for good measure. You line up your preferred tipple e.g. white wine small glass, (OK, large glass) then read the numbers in the little window. 3.5 units, 290 cals. Below is stick man and stick man in a skirt. Skirty's daily allowance is 2.5-3 units. Oh well, I've blown it now; may as well have another.
Miss Ross, who lives a few doors down from me, has alzheimers as does her dog. Yesterday they lost each other on the Common as usual. I helped in a half hearted fashion; I went home to see if the dog had gone that way. There was a severe frost in the night making everything look prettily sugar glazed this morning. I so hope Miss Ross and Holly were reunited as I would feel great remorse if they had spent the whole night out searching for each other and now look like crystalised fruit.
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