Monday, April 14, 2014

Eggs is eggs ... Well, they were.

I ate too much and I might explode.  Stand well back.  Mr Smith did this really weird thing; he made Yorkshire pudding with roast pork.  Oh no no no what does he think he is doing, turning our dining room into a Toby Carvery?  I despair between Yorkshire puddings sky risen and perfect, slopping with gravy, piled upon the fork and rammed into gob.  Oh divinity sublimity.  And crackling.

Alexander and I then ate all the Easter eggs bought for the Easter egg hunt on Easter Monday.  We didn't think much of Daim but we liked all the others - must get more.

I am in the final throws of Caribbean painting.  I hate this painting.  I hate his house. I hate his pets and I hate him.  Well, actually I quite like him but he wants to see his painting and I haven't finished it.  Today should be the last day and I would do it but I have to write a list of ways to lose weight without leaving your bed.  I have got stuck at don't eat anything.  I then have to watch the carpenter bodge up more doors.  I may even take some exercise.  I will start another diet ... It's Monday.  I will eat only super foods whatever they are.  I will get out of bed.  I will paint.






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