Yesterday I was weary, fatigued for whatever reason and didn't organise my food. I ate bread, butter and jam and far too much of it. Then I couldn't sleep so this morning I am up another kilogram and still weary.
I have set aside any hope of keeping to my plan today but I will not eat as badly as yesterday.
We are off to Mum's mid-morning as we have visitors coming for lunch. I have made a delicious soup just throwing things, mostly carrot, pumpkin and kumera, into some chicken stock I had in the freezer and whizzing it smooth. My friend is bringing crusty bread and we have all the frozen savouries and sweet bites in the freezer from last weekend. This is another celebration of Mum reaching her 95th birthday.
I thought I might have to cancel our friends because Mum had a bad cold threatening after all the stress and gallivanting round last week but we started her early on antibiotics and when I left yesterday she was nearly normal with just a slight huskiness. She was eating properly but complaining that her food didn't taste right or had no flavour, no seasoning, no sweetness, whatever. I get quite cross sometimes because she makes out we haven't done things right when all the time it is her fading/jaded taste buds.
Sorry about the moan but I get so tired of being blamed for things instead of her accepting that her body doesn't always work as it used to. All she has to do is say that something needs more salt or sugar or pepper and we can give her whatever she wants and Mum can adjust it to her taste. No she rather be a martyr and complain. All my life it has been like this, making me feel guilty for no good reason, so not a lot to do with growing older.
When I'm tired or fatigued I dread spending time with her because I know I will react badly to things I can ordinarily ignore.
Today will be nice. The sun shines, we've had buckets of rain so the drought is broken and the air feels fresh but it's still warm here. I'm typing away, sitting in my silky nightie, drinking coffee, with nothing on my feet and feeling quite comfortable.
Although I'm tired TWJ will be with me today and I'm looking forward to seeing our friends. I guess Jill is my longest, oldest, friend, who is not a relative. We moved into town, from my Grandfather's farm, when I was 8 years old. Our new home was across the street from Jill's family and we all became good freonds, especially our mothers. That makes us friends for 63 years. I'm impressed! I guess our friendship might have been lost except that Jill always kept in touch with Mum after her own mother died. I'm not that great at faithfully keeping in contact. We'd have drifted apart had it been left to me which would have been sad. TWJ and I value the friendship of Jill and Roger.
When we come home tonight I plan to have 2 complete days at home working on getting my weight loss/exercise routine back on track, even if it means having a semi-fast day. It's the quickest way to get all the sweet and starchy damage out of my system.