Walked Kimball under gloomy skies, then changed for T.O.P.S. and hey, things are looking up!
Looking down, I mean, that is, my weight. I weighed in at 127.7, down 3.2 from last week, for a total off of 54.2 pounds. Less than two more will get me down to where I want to be.
Of course, the meeting limped along so slowly, I didn't get breakfast until 10:30. Went to Ralph's and WinCo after that to pick up Dave's Killer Bread, blueberries, and crab meat.
Cut up the rest of the watermelon, pared and chopped three big cucumbers, and sliced mushrooms to saute. After that and lunch, I took off for town.
By the time I reached the library, then read for a bit (I lost interest in Steve Jobs and went back to Jackie Kennedy), it was after 4:00. Walked back to my car in rain. It was so light, I wouldn't even call it a drizzle, more a soft shower. I used to hate to be out in the rain without an umbrella, but now I don't mind it at all. Before, it spotted my glasses and since now I don't wear them, I can shrug off getting wet.
Note for St. Patrick's Day: My friend, Pat, mentioned on her blog that her niece named her first baby "Declan." I had never heard that name before (remember, I'm only half Irish), but it must be one of those fads, as names so often are. Tim, my nephew, and his wife just had their first, and named him the same. Incidentally, Tim is 51. Think that makes him an unusually old first-time Dad? Not in my family: My son is Japan was 54 when Koushin, now 4, was born. For that matter, the Byrne- descended girls are no slouches, either. My niece, Elaine, was 45 and had a 5-year-old--not son, but grandson--when her last was born. So Andrew, the uncle, is five years younger than his nephew, Nicky. That's the Irish for you!
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