Hiding

 

Can you believe it? I'm 52 and I've just found out that the dangly thing at the back of your throat is not your tonsils! Apparently it's your epiglottis. It didn't occur to me that tonsils is plural and there is only one dangly thing. How did I not know where the tonsils were?

So Libby the Labrador is still with us. In spite of loving the beach this week's picture is her trying to hide behind my shopping bags because she didn't want to leave the security of the car boot. Of course once I lifted her out she was fine and had a great time. She's a silly sausage sometimes! Her tumour is growing but she's coping. Hubby and I seem to spend most of the day discussing her poos - size, shape, colour, firmness. It reminds me of when I had my first baby. Poo was pretty important then too. I remember seeing tiny worms in my daughter's nappy. Which of course they weren't - it was just the fibre from her very first banana! Oh those were the days. 

Bad news this week. I still haven't reached that first stone lost. And after my wee long weekend it's a bit further away now. Typically! Couldn't you just greet? Yes, me too. Dieting is such a royal pain! I have such mixed emotions but I know I simply can't settle like this. I'll plod along until someone invents the miracle pill.

Comparison is the thief of joy.