points not pints & saving Buddy from the bullet

Bacchus isn't likely to do a doorstop at my place any time soon. He'd be getting coke and carbs. The image here is of a bacchinalian festivity.....i thought i'd put it in to remind myself of what once was
Despite my many blandishments, entreaties, sleights of the celery stick i languish in the world of stodge and german(s)
It is an ongoing fester. Those pathetic 20 points i've been allocated by the greater beings of weightwatchers - it's like a google algorithm determined by age, height, weight (i wonder why), occupation, etc.
I did pretty well day one, all things considering.
But time to come home and face the stove for the beloved (german) and all things broke loose. It was more than a few drops of any pint i needed. i ached for food. real food. not this 0 point vegetable business.
One is supposed to write down every itty bitty morsel that passes through the food orifice. This is so one manages to add up those 20 points. terrible idea.
Day 2 today: won't even talk about it.
But will talk about Buddy. Bumped into - No, i went looking for, the lovely Sarah Bell, artist, mother and soon to be new homemaker for Buddy the reject collie from somewhere near Rockhampton. Sarah and Roger have Osprey Blinds, just up the road from us and are on Luce's regular calling list. Luce being the Italian greyhound, for those who don't know. He's the one who is the most regular cause of my wallet being empty due to emergency vet visits.
Buddy is about to be shot, apparently, if no good home can be found for him. So Buddy is being rescued by the Bell family and will be coming to his new home on the 19th - obviously not a moment too soon.
Sarah, Roger and their two boys, Henry and Louis live in green surrounds, near Cooran and are busy making safe the area for Buddy's arrival. Lucky, lucky Buddy. Sarah said that Buddy's legs were too short to be a good working dog and there's no room for short legged collies from his neck of the woods.
I can't begin to describe my revulsion and horror at Buddy's alternatives.
I like Sarah. She's a very talented artist besides being an obviously compassionate soul.
we have another Sarah in our neighbourhood. She is also on Luce's visiting list; however lower as Other Sarah doesn't produce biccies.
aahhhh. relief - i got back to food. how neat was that. very tidy i do think.

stuffings of......

well: there'll be no more of that now!
my allocation is 20 points per day. and when i look at what 20 points per day will get me on the food ratings - it's not much.
obviously (now) i've been stuffing myself silly and that's why i've ended up at fat class.
silly silly me. blind to my own faults. as ever.
the book of rules says i can have a (small - jaesus, who ever has small, unless it's men and involuntary allocation of anatomical detailing) small glass of wine if i've saved up some spare points.
i'll be going to the point bank and asking for a loan.
the other aspect of stuffing is the bird.
no progress. still stuck in the sewing machine.
have rows of stuffing all lined up, ready to poke into that little fat birdie.
stuffing in this instance is polyester wadding. none of it looks that hot. got some loose stuffing - the craft shop said it was toys, etc. horrid! nasty and worse. lumpy silly flimsy stuff that wouldn't last a minute and cost a pretty penny. Speaking of which, Penny did that particular bit of stuffing on birdie No 1.

fat class was as expected. yes; i had to hop on the scales, but couldn't take my shoes off - "for health and hygiene reasons" explained by one of the helpers. i hope my horror doesn't show. The scales have a thin peel of plastic over them - you know the peel off sticky bits in the crotches of swimmies? a surreptitious squizz around the room and there must be 20 women, plus token male. that's 20 x 2 x 1 week x 50 (allow 2 off for chrimbo and natural disasters) so that's 1200 sets of feet stepping on those things per year. that's a lot of toe fluff. minus the token male here. and no; i'm not doing a recount to include him. ran out of digits a long time ago. and no more toe piccies. so gross. will try and find something more obscure.
quickly now for i have to bed to go.....
the italian has found new tenants. his record intact, it was their first day in the row and they were overhead to coo. Surreptitious peak outs saw the hound in full PR mode, tail-a-woggle - he can't wag. italian greyhounds do NOT wag their tails. their tails have a certain syncopation when in flight. straying - he is absolutely unbelievable. he can sniff out a new tenant in the road from one end to another. and off he goes to say hello, please admire me, i am so beautiful. which dutifully all and sundry do.
and finally i had a little fall from SW business today. nothing major, a momentary forgetfulness. what was this? i had the temerity, yes, temerity to observe that quality of products designated for my use were consistently inferior to quality of products chosen for husband's personal use. Oh dear. what a slip and how silly of me. i was reprimanded of course for questioning. right thing too!

fat class and stuffed birdies

I have a bird in the sewing machine.
It doesn't yet look like a bird. It's in the developmental stages.
Like my life. Which i might add is an incredibly long developmental stage.
I do hope, in those quiet times of self examination, that there is an imminent move on from this extended developmental period.
Perhaps i will so do after tonight's fat class.
Penny says the bird is a turkey. I think it's more like a duck.
However it did require some beak pruning and neck extensions as the stuffing procedure didn't quite work out.
I'm thinking of really exquisite japanese printed cottons. And i did think also of wiring little legs.
But apparently if we develop the bird to a selling point, then legs aren't an added bonus. They'll get in the way of packing.
No legs. Maybe later. Optional extra. Slim-line, full fat, flexible knees, full working order. Pick a box and make your very own selection for your personal bird with or without legs. Additional postage applies.
Back to fat class. Penny insisted i buy slim milk. Hate it. Horrid in coffee. Which is good as i drink much less coffee and tea.
Now i've added twitter to this blog site. But i can't figure out how to get twitter to the greater unwashed so that everytime i do it - blog - that i also tweet.
SO difficult. Will post fat stuff later.
My other friend, Goddess Dianne is telling me about twin sets for Stepford Wives. But that means less fat. Fat arms stuffed into cashmere sleeves are NOT a good look.
Only 2 friends. It varies. I'm up to 11 on Facebook. I guess that's ok seeing as i have made a career out of being overly injudiciously direct and indiscreet, judgemental and opinionated.
And this is all before fat class.
I can hardly wait til after. Maybe i'll find another friend.

have you thought about padded coathangers?

I have. They're like buying the perfect shoe.
Doesn't exist when you go shopping but proliferate like mad when you're not looking.
In my blog description i talk about textiles and i havent.
Talked about anything to do with textiles yet.
However: padded coathangers have been weighing (for you regulars you know i had to sneak that one in) heavily on my mind.
Still 2 days to inaugural weigh in.
I've been shopping the traditional way. Lots of petrol, shoe leather but no perfect padded hanger. Lots of dud and icky ones.silk fabric
I've done the research and i've come up with one company in the UK and there's a how to...make a padded coathanger.
But you know; they're not what i'd call a Bentley model.
Smooth as and beautifully padded so that every aspect is perfectly curved. And then the spaghetti strap holder upper bit, plus one for trousers to avoid the knee crease.
I want groovy, gorgeous fabrics in the finest of cotton and little bobbles on some to act as strap holders.
None to be had. And this has finally forced my hand. The workroom is now being organised. Mike the builder has appeared at least twice - due back who knows when - in the way of builders and the like. We are putting up vertical beams so that i can have rows of fabric strung through dowelling rods which should look pretty snazzy and very, very textile-ish. I've sorted ALL the patterns into sections. Hung the pegboard and carefully unravelled all the cottons.
And when all of this is done i will set to and attempt to make the perfect padded coathanger.
In the meantime i'm looking for fabrics. Do you know How HARD it is to find agents/wholesalers and the like to speak to you? they have a little club and i don't have a ticket.
Totally frustrating.

Sex and the Sofa - all about husbandry

i'm late. i said "tomorrow" which is yesterday.
blame it on slovenliness, Saturdays' and Sunday. today.
ssssss....sad - but i seem to be stuck on "s's
alliteration it is.
back to very important things. 2 days to the inaugural Weigh-in. i keep thinking about ice cream and getting hungry.
and now onto husbandry. apparently one shouldn't always agree with one's partner/husband/significant other. But i can assure you that in my household everything starts looking better when i simply say "yes" and "you're right" and "i really value your view"...yah, de yah, de yah.
the psychologists will have conniptions and a field day i know. but this is the bottom line.
It's called the "stepford wife syndrome".
The cringe factor is completely off the richter scale; i simply do NOT bother with making any intelligent, rational private observations to myself about the state of my life and how it has come to this. because come to this it has and this IS the state of my life and i simply need to do something to make it altogether more bearable with satisfactory outcomes.
NO: leaving is not an option. So making it better is.
And i need to do what ever is necessary to achieve this goal.
Agreement is King Kong of the wood heap.
Once i started agreeing; there were no arguments. If i agree to everything, there is no room for any dispute, nastiness, meanness (oh well - maybe - but more on that in another missil)
think about this: in business we call it negotiation and compromise and successful people are highly skilled at both.
for we know there is a goal and quite frankly most people will do an awful lot of negotiating and compromising to achieve this goal. Note: i do say "Most".
The buddhist way of life maintains that ego is a trip point. Ego can prevent us negotiating the path to negotiation. We throw up hugely emotive words like humiliation, unfair, discrimination, equal rights, abuse. And we should examine these thoughts and processes very carefully to determine whether there is a measure of dignity that will be lost if we proceed down the negotiating path.
What is dignity? a greater or lesser degree of embarrassment? or some deep level of consideration of another person?
My dignity is intact for i have concluded that when i remove the agitators in this washing machine of life i remove the friction agent that causes the "rub" and then the irritation etc. etc.
My dignity is intact because i have examined this dignity business and found it greatly overrated. it depends enormously on your feeling of self-worthiness according to others.
But: you're still wincing. how can this woman publicly state that she is (happy to) adopt "Stepford Wife" tactics. isn't this the most massive and utter sell out on a fundamental level.
Maybe - maybe not. i have not become robotic in my thinking. I have completely independently, decided upon a course of action to achieve my goal.

OH- sex and the sofa.

where did that come in to all of this? it's sunday and alliteration day and we all love sofas on the weekend for relaxing, for lounging, for.........trimming toe-nails and the art of loving.....