Wednesday, November 05, 2008

The holes, a colleague and wonderful man.

1. Butter drips through the holes in my crumpet.

2. Debbie buys my lunch because I've forgotten my purse.

3. I come home to a hug; and 'My poor darling and her distraught early morning phone call'; and my summer shoes, the mould cleaned off, lined up under the bedroom heater.

Doing dips, practical and post.

1. I'm into week four, and to my surprise, I'm doing triceps dips. Not very well, and I can't manage the whole forty-five second...