Simple pleasures

My life seems to have settled into a gentle pattern here in New Jersey. I write all day, breaking for meals. Y & I eat lunch together every day in the French fashion. That is we sit down together at a table, with salad bowl & placemats and talk, as opposed to my usual fashion which is to shove everything into a deep white bowl and retire with it to my lair to type & eat simultaneously.

Supper is similar, except we move to the dining room, with candles & napkins and, of course, wine. The downside of all this lovely civilised behaviour is that I am getting fatter not thinner. I'm not overly obsessed with my weight - I don't even own scales - but I do like to be able to fit into my clothes.

So I'm back on my regime minceur. It's quite simple: no wine with supper (which will horrify the boys), no chocolate, no bread, no tortilla chips with my guacamole, no cupcakes or ice cream. It's those little treats that make me porky.

It will help too when the swimming pool here is finished, & I can swim each day. We've been unableto use it as the liner split, & we are waiting for the men to come (tomorrow!) to fit a new one and fill the pool.

This, of course, is the part about which I am excited. The house's water supply comes from an artesian well, so the water to fill the pool is being transported in tankers from the local Fire Station. And that, I believe, means firemen. Excellent.