Pie

Let’s talk pies. I like them.

‘nuff said. Then again. I don’t think I have said enough. Y’see, I’m kinda weird. I like my pies cold. Is that too unpleasant for the discerning pastry connoisseurs amongst you to even consider? It makes my friends heave. They all like their pies toasty warm and straight from the oven/microwave/appropriate heating device. I on the other hand, prefer them to be cold so that all the insides have set a bit. Actually, now that I read that last line it sounds totally repellent. Perhaps we should stop talking about pies….

OK. Let’s move on to other stuff. Half way through January and I’m still happily coasting along with my new trying-to-eat-healthily-and-do-more-exercise plan. I’m experiencing a slight loosening of the trouser and I’ve now managed to clear all of the dreadful junk food out of my house (by eating most of it all at once – job done!)
I’m also feeling a sense of inner-smugness that I’m managing to continue with my project. I have to say though, that this feeling only comes over me when I have just finished exercising - before the aches & pains set in. Pre-exercise, I only feel dread and terror. I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy it. I’m slightly in awe of those people who spring around, confidently clad in lycra and without any irony or embarrassment. Just the idea of pulling on any kind of stretchy outfit sends me to the kitchen in search of something chewably cakey. I must add that I’m not some kind of man-mountain addicted to baked goods and pastry. I do have to make sure that I don’t go completely off the rails though and I’m always teetering at the edge of the overindulgence abyss!

Heavens! Work awaits and my inbox is now overflowing uncontrollably.

Blog soon…