Fok it, I hate Tuesdays. It’s my weigh day. I was soooooooooooo good this last week.
Weighed and stayed the same! So frustrating.
Whilst weighing in my bathroom this morning, I saw my stagnant weight and dramatically flung my comb against the tiled wall. Except that I strategically aimed it above the mirror, its plastic and about 10 cms long and didn’t make a sound as it hit and then slid down the wall. Felt better though. So now I’m going to be keeping a food diary.
We are shearing sheep and everything comes to a grinding halt on the farm at this time. The sheep are raised to Royal Status and that’s all John can think about. I personally give great thought to the wool cheque that will hopefully be coming shortly in the next month or so. I’m that shallow.
The staff, wives and children all migrate to the shearing shed and it’s just wool, wool, wool for over a week. I get sent from pillar to post to free John up. The result is me falling asleep at about 7:45pm in front of the TV and missing Royal Pains. Thank goodness for PVR.
Well this busy and hectic day is almost over. Still got so much to do. A farmer’s wife’s work is never done…. and all that…..