Going down - with fleas

The preCanada diet is coming along nicely with 4 pounds shifted so far. That is, on a positive note, over a quarter of the way there. On the other hand there is the blind panic of "oh no, only four weeks to go, I'll never do it." However, 10 pounds over 4 weeks doesn't seem impossible, just hard work.

Internet Dating Jane didn't pay me for walking her dog so I kidnapped him. This wasn't my best idea ever as he had fleas which I am sure he will have liberally scattered throughout my house and passed on to my dog. It's Frontline flea potion all round - I do wish Mr Smith would sit still so I can apply it to the back of his neck.

Gay courgettes

It is so hideously dry. We have skies full of dense black clouds that never burst. The garden is frazzled. I water and water but it doesn't do much good; perhaps the bizzy lizzies perk up a bit but everything else looks brown. The courgettes have only male flowers and no pregnant ladies - why? Do bees not like my courgettes? Are they simply batting from the other end of the veg garden? As for those awful runner beans the Lovely Claudia gave me; they have stupid white flowers instead of red ones. I'll never trust her again. The carrots need thinning but I can't really be bothered. The french beans have disappeared. My vegetables are awful this year as I didn't really give them the time and devotion required. One day I will.

Aids

Ooooh how I lurve my new handbag. I am taking it on a journey today - it's first outing... to the seaside.

It's my goddaughter Lizzie's birthday today so I making her cupcakes and taking them to her house for a little party. Hope she likes them. Hope I don't scoff them all.

I have found a less drastic and less expensive answer to my slimming aids. Rather than sign up for a stupidly expensive course of Lighterlife, I am going to give Slimfast a whirl. Their potions and powders and grits can be purchased at Boots, much more convenient, and I can start immediately and lose my stone before Canada. It also means I can eat a sensible amount of fuel rather than a rather measley, not to mention dangerously low, 500 cals a day. Happy now.

Good diet/Bad diet

I have been reading about Lighterlife, the rather expensive diet thingy that people do. Claudia's neighbour has lost a staggering 5 stone in a few months. I decided to do some investigation. On their website are lots of sylphine people with testimonies of worship. Then I fished around the internet for some dissatisfied customers who were, not surprisingly, numerous and easily accessible.

However, I have to say the moaners were mostly moany because they hadn't stuck to it. Yes it's expensive. Yes, you can make your own 500 calorie meals but what a flaming hassle when you can just pay and have them done for you. And of course if you go back to eating all the crap you were before you started you will put the weight back on. Come on you anti Lighterlifers give me some really good moans like "all my hair fell out then I died" otherwise I might be tempted to give it a whirl.

Acquisitions

The Lovely Claudia met me at Westfield Shopping Centre where we went .... shopping. We tried on matching stripey dresses and looked like a couple of deck chairs. Well Claudia looked like a deckchair, I looked more like a comfy sofa. I bought a load of trivia e.g. new shreddies from M&S and some soap and and and ....... THE HANDBAG. Yes, I got it. I got the last one in the shop which is probably the last one in London. Oh it is so so so divine. My very own bit of Louis Vuitton to love and cherish and ponce about with trying to look rich which is a bit of a joke really as I am now poor, but I have a very nice handbag.

I would show you a picture but I left my camera out in the rain so it doesn't work any more and I definitely cannot afford a new one. What a saddo!

Having your cake and not eating it

Dilemma de la jour,(there usually is one): Arty Antonia has invited me to a cake fest at her place for three days. Obviously I won't attend all three days but it is taking place over three days to celebrate her 50th birthday. I have said I'll make and take some cakes which I will happily do as, you know me, I love making cakes. The tricky part is I am on my preCanada diet so I mustn't eat cakes ... but I know I will. If I go on Friday and the cakes are lovely I can then go back on Saturday and Sunday for some more. Oh woe is me.

About the preCanada diet: Boring.
Goal: to lose one stone by 26th August - that's a month away.
Story so far: Day one has resulted in a slight weight loss (I went to the loo).

I am tired from all that exercise yesterday and I'm hungry. Nothing new there then. Sticking to it? Prognosis doesn't look that good really does it? But I cannot be this fat and go to Canada - the plane will not get off the ground and I will displace all the water in our hosts' swimming pool. Efforts will be made.

Holidays in Hell

I have received an email from my Canadian sister in law giving me a run down of the itinerary she has prepared for us during our forthcoming trip to Canada. It all looked really exciting except for the baseball game from which I opted out but I don't think I was ever actually expected to attend anyway. There was a very scary bit at the end "We have a swimming pool so be sure to bring a swimsuit". Oh no. How am I going to lose three stone by Canada? I will start today.

I have been very good and charged up and down the swimming pool like Rebecca Adlington. I have also performed a billion household tasks like Mrs Beaton (including removing that broad bean stain on the sitting room carpet). I have to walk the dogs like Alfred Wainwright then prepare dinner like Delia and all will be well with my multi split personality disorder.

Consider Yourself a bit lethargic

Today shows no improvement in the energy department. I've just noticed Seven Brides for Seven Brothers is on the telly, only I'm too lazy to watch it; I'll read the Sunday papers instead and steel myself for my 782nd viewing of Oliver at 4pm - "Consider yourself at home, dum de dum Part of the Furniture". Mr Smith just scowls.

I podded some of my excellent broad beans and my naughty little dog ate all the bean pods and was then violently sick in the sitting room. The splodge has now turned blue and looks like we've upset ink on the carpet. Sometimes I don't love him as much as he loves bean pods.

Tomorrow I feel a change of mood coming on. Keep on reading because it can never be as boring as this ever again. I promise!

I am a cat

Great things come to those who .... do absolutely nothing at all? There are unquestionably many benefits to doing nothing. If you don't go shopping you don't spend any money; if you don't cook you don't make any mess; if you don't move you don't exert any energy and therefore don't need anything to eat (except chocolate which doesn't count). Also if you just read and stare at the telly or computer all day you educate yourself. It's probably about time I sprang out of this inertia but, as long as my family don't notice, I am really having such a lovely time I see no reason to do anything different. I like being lazy to the point of making sloths appear fast moving. There is a spot of work requiring my attention but it can wait til I come out of this cathartic state. There is a pile of ironing left from my last fit of housework - it can wait til my next. Must dash now, it's almost time for my afternoon nap.

B&B

The student has gone back to his student flat for a few days - so that's him out of the way. I drove the Apprentice to Tooting to remove him from the premises for a bit. Then I cleaned; the prospect of extermination was just too imminent. Mr Smith was quite startled by the gleam of our house; I'm so glad he noticed. He had been staying in a horrid B&B in Kent so was very glad to be home although there was no dinner and the bed clothes were a bit damp. Actually, I might run this establishment as a B&B - Breakfast is only available til 9.30pm and evening meals are only by prior appointment and cost extra.

I have to get the piles and piles of ironing done today. I'm sure landladies have to do lots of ironing. Then I must remember to put masses of blue stuff in all the loos and be a bit offhand when everyone gets home. I think B&B owners are wary of being too friendly in case you don't leave or something. Or maybe they just hate me.

Flushing pride

Elusive Dave the Plumber appeared from out of the blue and my loo now flushes without the huge effort and determination it has required for the past three months. This is so so exciting and I have to keep weeing every three minutes in celebration. Lovely lovely loo, how I love you.

Cleansing rain

Mr Smith has gone away to play golf in Kent. In fact he's been gone for four days and I've only just noticed. Oooh eck, he's coming back today. Look spritely Mr Dyson and you Miss Pledge; we have work to do. I stripped the bed and hung the duvet out of the window. It then rained. Not any old rain but huge Noah rain. I forgot about the duvet. How the fuck am I going to get the sodden thing dry before Mr Smith returns? How can feather down be so heavy when wet? What do birds do - tumble dry themselves? Flight would be completely out of the question. Oh less pondering, more housework. I hadn't realised quite what a mess we'd got into whilst the Senior Darleck was away. Maybe I will just finish my extremely trashy vampire book (Twilight - fabulously escapist, I have the whole trilogy) and the crossword and he can exterminate me upon his return.

Terrible tragic news. (Apart from leaving my camera out in the rain so it will never work again.) I sneaked up to Bond Street whilst Mr Smith was chasing his little golf balls around the Kent coast to buy my new handbag and meet Designer Susan, to whom I was going to show off unashamedly. Her train was cancelled and my handbag was OUT OF STOCK. I nearly cried. I went to Harvey Nicholls to console myself and looked at all the stupid mothers trying to dress like their daughters. I can be smug here because I don't have daughters; I just dress like a 13 year old because I've never grown up. Actually, 50 is tricky because you don't want to look like your mother but there again you don't want to look a sad hippy, an aged rock chic, mutton or really frumpy. I opted for a plain red linen dress with short cream jacket (the frumpy/ mother look) ... of course. Maybe I'll get my handbag on line and a new camera.

I hate shopping

Right, shopping list, let's see: orange juice, food, deodorant, waters and healthy salad. Took the Student to carry the bottled water. Here's what we bought: 60 cans of beer, 30 cans of coke, 2 bottles of water (that's all he could carry?) and NO deodorant. This is almost an emergency now what with the hot weather. I am clamping my arms tightly to my sides and performing all tasks with little or no exertion.

Going away

I had enough of cow painting on Saturday so downed tools and Mr Smith and I went to Petworth to enjoy my National Trust membership. I stupidly didn't get a joint membership so we have to pay for every visit Mr Smith makes to a stately home and it's jolly expensive and he makes me pay. We went on to the seaside and had a lovely weekend in my lovely flat.

That Bag

Oh my God, in the paper today is a picture of Boris's bit on the side toting around Boris's lovechild and on the back of little Stephanie's designer pushchair she's got MY handbag. I think we might have to move the date of Handbag Acquisition forward a bit and stuff the "wait til I can afford it" policy. I want it now therefore I will have it now. Oh Louis Vuitton hold onto your hats and stupidly expensive sunglasses, here I come.

The Lovely Claudia is in Nice. This is to make up for her last holiday about three weeks ago in Nice where it rained all the time and she got very wet. The weather map shows Nice today with a picture of a big sun. Actually, London has one too but all I can see are big fat clouds.

I'm in the mood for a stately home today - Mr Smith can take me to Petworth then we will go to the sea. It's bound to be raining there.

The Silver Dream Machine is back

My whacko wheeze idea of being very green and never driving unless absolutely necessary, coupled with a few weeks oop North, resulted in my car becoming a bit run down. In fact it had become so fat and lazy it couldn't even manage to close its roof. This cost me £170. So now I will be the fat and lazy one whilst my car stays healthy and charged up. Where shall I drive it today?

Internet Dating Jane is buying a new car. Well actually it's an old car but new for her. It's primrose and classic - a Sprite - which sounds and looks very exciting. She has also taking up flying and whizzes about the skies in her little aeroplane with her dates following her - they hold onto the wheels. She has to be careful not to squash them as she lands.

Having delegated all the preparation work on the cow to the student son, which is just about the best idea I ever had, it is now almost ready for painting so I'd better get those overalls on.

Chocolate buttons and jelly babies

The rain is here. My garden is pleased and I can hear it soaking up the water - maybe our grass will turn green once again rather than look like the plains of the Serengeti minus wilderbeast.

I thought the hot weather was making me tired but today I feel even more like lazing around doing nothing but eating Montezuma's giant chocolate buttons and few jelly babies to help them down. The student son has appeared and has set up a cow under a garden umbrella and is beavering away sanding off all the flaking paint. I am amazed and thrilled. Isn't there some hazard about using power tools in the rain? We'll probably soon find out and I will be cross if it affects my sander.

Mr Smith, the Apprentice and Student seem terribly hungry these days and demand more food than I can possibly cook. I have to do double portions of everything. Tonight they want Cordon Bleu recipes - (baked beans?) Oh well, I'd better go to the butcher and find a saddle of lamb butchered in the french style and some feuilletes aux poires. It has stopped raining and looks momentarily sunny which is good as I have no car.

Driving theory

No idea what's happening with my poor little car. Mercedes are being so vague I might go and visit it in its clinic and hopefully parole it. I had to borrow Mr Smith's car for a wild goose chase somewhere in Middlesex. His car was very dirty and smells like the tip because he keeps filling it with rubbish. I changed the seat position, the seat angle, the mirror, the radio station and the air con thing. Mr Smith will not be a bit pleased.

Trying to get to and from Sunbury yesterday during rush hour was hideous. I was stupidly late and had to turn round and come home; only I didn't turn round as I decided to take an alternative crawl to Kingston past some very splendid waterworks buildings which I note are for sale. I'd love to live in a great brick temple of Victorian mechanisation looking out of enormous arched windows at the reservoirs below.

The student passed his driving theory test. Another driver annoys you. Do you a) gesticulate at them; b) shout abuse at them; c) drive very very close flashing your lights at them; d) Yell "Tosser" out of the window and do wanky hand signals. You know the sort of thing. Oh sorry, there was an option of pulling over and ignoring them. All I can say is thank heavens Mr Smith never had to take a driving theory test.

No car, no Oyster, no loo

My beautiful little Mercerdes Maclaren had a terrible mishap yesterday. There I was pottering around town with the roof down when it looked like rain so I thought I'd better close up quick and stop being such a poser. Oh no, it was stuck. After a dash to Mayday motors where heads were scratched a ums were erred, we decided the best idea was to take it to MacDonalds in Wandsworth; there is a Mercedes garage next door. I was beginning to get really anxious as the sky was getting blacker and blacker. Luckily Mercedes in Wandsworth were lovely and kind and caring and a nice member of Hitler Youth took great care to park my car somewhere safe and dry in the Mercedes private clinic where it has to stay until it feels better.

I had to walk home because Mr Smith had borrowed my Oyster card. Why can't he get his own?

Elusive Dave the Plumber appeared today two months after disappearing for a spare part for my loo. He still had no loo part but took an active interest in the Apprentice's shed building. He also promised to return to fix the loo and the upstairs leak (5 months after his original summons) and make Mr Smith's shower work. I made the shower work, eventually, after physically sucking all the air out of the pipe with Elusive Dave watching. "That'll be £60 says Elusive Dave". Oh I see. Well I am not paying him unless he comes back to mend my loo. I am attaching elastic to his car. Sometimes I think it would be quicker to qualify as a plumber onself than wait for Elusive Dave to show up. I hope Mr Smith appreciates my efforts.

Happy Mondays

I love Mondays because on Mondays I get to hog the telly - not always but at least some of the time. Last night was double Corrie with lots of interruptions "Where's my Dinner? Is Gail still in prison? Is Ken Barlow gay?" No, but Norris Cole is. There was University Challenge in the middle - blissikins. My evening's viewing was topped off with Mary Portas telling an awful shop how to make their shop a fabbo shop. They still put it back to how it was once they thought she'd gone. I have a feeling I would as well with the attitude of It's My Shop and I'll have it how I like. But then I would lose loads of money.

The cow is in the middle of the lawn. It's grazing. The Student is supposed to be scrubbing it clean. The Student is fast asleep in his smelly bed - idle sod. I have estimated 20 hours of hard labour on the cow. One hour of this is cleaning and sanding then the fun of painting can begin. Repaints are never much fun as you don't have a free rein and have to make it look like what was there before which can be pain staking and tedious. Oh the things we do for a handbag.

Stupid Sunday

Yesterday I went all the way to Bromley, which is so far way it's in Kent, in order to deliver some plastic bottles to the chap who is making his plastic bottle greenhouse. When I got there I couldn't find it. I searched and searched. I went up Burnt Ash Lane and down Burnt Ash Lane but all to no avail so I then drove my car crammed full of plastic bottles all the way home. Ah, all is revealed, there is a Burnt Ash Lane and a Burnt Ash Road and I had the wrong one. I am never wasting a very hot Sunday evening doing that again.

I dream every night of my big walk. Every morning I awake exhausted. Mr Smith had to replay the World Cup all night- Bravo Spain, Hard cheese Holland - so he must be totally wiped out.

A cow has arrived for mending. I remember mending this one before. The only really awful bits are where I repainted it. Oh well, they've come back for more. I am not quite sure what to charge. I am starting my Louis Vuitton handbag fund but I don't think I can be that greedy.... there again, I've got their cow and if they want it back they'd better cough up.

Fatso thinso

Mr Smith says I look thinner since my big walk but then he'll say anything to get his leg over.

Gosh it's hot

Our hairy dog is so so hot; he flops in shady spots and pants a lot. I'm currently reading the book that everyone's reading "The girl with the dragon tattoo". This is set in a cold snowy Sweden which helps combat this heatwave as does lots of chilled white wine and a sun lounger that I cleverly invested in earlier this year. I fight Mr Smith for the best spot under the umbrella and invariably lose. I made him feel exhausted today with my morning of creeper trimming, dog trimming and patio sweeping whilst he lounged. The creeper looks much better but the dog looks like he has endured a morning with the trainee hairdresser at a concentration camp. He's still too hot and now ugly as well.

Yesterday I broke a tooth eating horrible healthy muesli; the same tooth I broke a few weeks ago. I am so glad this didn't happen on my Big Walk. I rushed to the dentist in London who saved me from having to do something with a bit of polo mint and some super glue and I'm back to normal. Carina and I had lunch in Fortnums and ate so much we both felt sick. We went to the new Louis Vuiton shop on Bond Street - you must go immediately as it is quite amazing. My mother told me to go with the warning Don't Buy Anything. Does a new handbag count? The sunglasses I looked at were £750, I put them back on the shelf very very carefully. I made an amazingly clever discovery in Burlington Arcade: if you buy cashmere from N Peal on the hottest day of the year it's half price, (such a bargain, as I told Mr Smith). It was still heaps but at least I will be warm and elegant in the winter, if I live that long without expiring from heat exhaustion.

Appealing

At the start of my Big Walk my fat little trotters got a bit sunburnt and itched every night for three solid weeks. They are better now but I have started peeling - revoltingly. Huge flakes of skin are being deposited around the house and I have to follow myself about with a hoover. I am in fact a snake. However, I am pleased to report I seem to almost have finished this disgusting process and my legs are looking quite brown if a bit stripey and my knees are a lot less fat after all that walking.

Those useless wastes of space, known as my family, have broken the hoover ... and it was new. I have mended it. God knows what they hoovered up; quite a lot of the dog I think as his tail is looking very wispy.

There are complaints from the vegetarian neighbours about Mr Smith's smelly barbecues. But that's the only way my neanderthals know how to cook! They should be happy I'm back in the kitchen producing the usual inedible meals. Whilst I feel sorry for them having to endure Mr Smith's cooking of dead animal parts I also think Fancy decreeing what the people in the next house to yours can and can't eat and I feel an outdoor pig roast coming on at once.

Lovely Nothing

Oh the desire to do nothing is so great. I made a big lasagne last night - in fact two. My family were so pleased that normal service has been resumed and ate with gusto. A bit of shouting by me and all is back to life as it should be. Both the student and the Apprentice are at home - groan. I love them really. The dog is on a diet - crossly. He is so damned fat. Aren't we all? I must keep up the exercise and not take to the sofa for the foreseeable future. Swimming today. Oh it's lovely to be home.

215 miles - all done

My walk continued following rivers and canals into cities and out of cities over mountains, across fields, past power stations, beside reservoirs, along roads (with tiny verges) to wonderful hotels, grotty hotels, charming B&Bs, vile B&Bs, a fun pub, a rough pub, my mother-in-law's house and finally a train home.

Best bits: Meeting Claudia in Manchester, Howden, Crossing the Pennines, Hull, Liverpool and finally the pretty seaside town of Southport.

Worst: The B&B with a bright turquoise bathroom suite and slightly stroppy landlady. Widnes (scarey place). Pubs being closed when desperate for a pit stop. My feet hurting after walking on pavements for too long. Horseflies - 3 bites and itching.

Am I glad to be home - YES.

Wowden Howden

I arrived at Howden and it just bowled me over with perfection. This is why I did this walk. After the spectacular Humber Bridge I didn't expect another magnificent sight for a bit. As I came into the town there was the most beautiful Minster, tumbled down in parts and totally spellbinding in that shabby dilapidated ecclesiastical ruins kind of way. I stayed at The Minster View Hotel which was a pub rather than a hotel. They assured me they were a very quiet pub with a few regulars and old folk who liked to retire at about 9pm. They were fibbing. At about 4am the punters called time upon themselves with the landlord pleading "You're not going home already are you?" I set off for Selby the next day with the worst hangover in the world.