Wily Kat
Woo HOO! That is all I can think of to start this off. 11 stone 13 pounds this morning. Yes, that is ELEVEN stone something.
I guess the last time I weighed this must have been around August or September 2006.
Witness, ladies and gents, the amazing results of 14 days perfectly on plan (around 1950 calories per day)...SEVEN POUNDS LOST IN 14 DAYS.
A great reward. It took me more than 5 months to lose 10 pounds before this, so it just shows what small changes you have to make to make a huge difference in your weight.
I look pretty skinny in my clothes this morning, I have to say.
Well, skinny for me.
Out of my clothes, it is a different story. I haven't exercised regularly since Christmas. I was reluctant to start again before I got into the 11s, because my weight loss slows a lot when I exercise. Now, however, my body seems to have become an amorphous, jellified mass. My boobs are sagging, my belly is oh-so-wibbly-wobbly, and my thighs and bum..well, they have more dimples than my face and that is saying something (my face is round). There is even cellulite on my arms.
So, it is time to start the exercising with a vengeance. Cardio marathons, pumping iron...whatever, as long as it gets me buns - and arms - of steel within seven weeks, for my holiday in the States.
Scale addict that I am, I had better not weigh myself tomorrow, because I know I shall be back in the 12s from my post-workout water retention. Good job, then, that my scales are being singularly uncooperative. 'bATT,' they declare accusingly every time I step on them. 'bATT.'
They have only lived with me for eight years, there is still time for them to learn proper English.
I just want to tell you the fuller story of what happened at the RSPCA inspection yesterday. I still can't think about it without cracking up...
I wrote yesterday how I took a while to clean up before the inspection. By the end, the house was pretty sparkly. I had cleared away all the concrete bags in the kitchen that said 'highly toxic' from our garden landscaping. I had hidden away all the bottle tops and toilet roll tubes our current cat plays with, and got out all his 'real' toys (the ones he turns his nose up at).
When I was done, I looked around, and I was quite pleased. And then I made my mistake...
I figured the inspector would want to see our beautiful, healthy current cat.
He had been warned to be on his best behaviour. I had been explaining to him for days that he was going to get a Baby Sister. Although I wasn't sure how much of it he was taking in.
The trouble was, showing our cat to strangers is easier said than done. He is terrified of them. When people come round, he tends to hide in the shower.
However, I had cunningly shut all the upstairs doors so he had nowhere to run. I was feeling mighty smug.
But pride, as they say, comes before a fall. When the inspector knocked on the door, I seized my moment, picked up my beautifully groomed darling and took him to the door with me. So I open the door, he sees this strange woman and goes crazy. He flails like a mad thing to get down, legs thrashing, and he makes two really deep gashes on my chest, before struggling free and leaping up the stairs.
So I am greeting this pet inspector with a cat that has run from me in terror, and rivers of blood running down my chest.
And then from upstairs starts this appalling yowling. It was one of the worst things I have ever heard. The cat has found out he can't get into any of his hiding places - but to hear it you would think he is being strangled.
Luckily, we were approved anyway.
But after Scary Inspector Lady left, kitty and I had some serious words.
Turns out, he DID understand me about the Sister...and he was not impressed.
He decided to make out he was a poor, maltreated kitty, just to stop her coming.
Wily little git.
Lots of love, Rach xxx 